Eight
Star was anxious. It had been forty-five minutes since she’d called her parents. She wasn’t sure how her rescue was going to happen, but she had to believe they wouldn’t let her down. This would likely be her last chance at freedom.
She pulled the curtain aside, but saw nothing except city traffic and a few pedestrians walking on the street beyond the motel.
Her heart was beginning to thump erratically. The fear of failing to get away again was overwhelming. The skin on her back felt as though it was pulling, almost like it was shrinking. She knew the sensation was a result of the alcohol she’d poured on her wounds, but it was better to be uncomfortable than get an infection that would slow her down.
She went back to the bathroom to see if the wounds had dried up again. She couldn’t see all of her back but what she could see wasn’t pretty. There were scabs trying to form and staples on a half-dozen different places—they’d told her forty in all. That Nevada desert shit was almost as mean as Anton Baba. She would be scarred for the rest of her life, but it wouldn’t matter if she and Sammy got to safety.
Deeming her back dry enough to get dressed again, she slipped into the sports bra and pulled the well-worn T-shirt over her head. The fabric was soft, close to threadbare in places, and would do as little damage to her back as possible. She put her shoes back on, got Luis’s gun from the backpack and turned out all of the lights except for in the bathroom. She sat down in a chair against the wall where she’d be out of the line of fire if someone came through the door shooting.
She took a deep, shaky breath and glanced at the clock beside the bed. The hour she was told to wait had come and gone.
Her heart was thumping harder.
“God, please let this be okay.”
* * *
They came into Las Vegas in a convoy. Eight dark blue Chevrolet Impalas with Nevada Highway Patrol insignia on their doors driving bumper to bumper, but devoid of flashing lights and sirens, down the main drag. In spite of the high energy and the myriad of colored and flashing lights from businesses and Lucky Joe’s Casino, their dark and silent presence was obvious.
Inside the cruisers, the radios were silent. The officers driving the cruisers had volunteered for this rescue mission. They knew there was a connection to Anton Baba with this case, and that the mission could go sour at a moment’s notice. But they’d been told a brother officer was going to rescue his sister who’d been missing for the past seven years, and that was all they’d needed to hear.
Officer Justin Davis, a four-year veteran of the force, was in the lead car, following GPS directions to get to the address his father had given him.
He was still in shock from the phone call, and like his parents, he had pretty much given his baby sister up for dead long ago. He didn’t know what was waiting for them upon arrival, but he was ready for it. It would be the ride of his life if Starla was really at the end of it—waiting for someone to take her home.
The night she disappeared was as fresh in his mind as if it had happened yesterday. He’d had nightmares for over a year afterward, imagining her crying out for help and no one coming. He didn’t remember when the family began to act as if she was dead, but for years now she was always spoken of in the past tense. If this rescue played out, it would be nothing short of a miracle.
The GPS told him to take the next right, and as he did, he glanced up in the rearview mirror, grateful for the backup behind him. He took a left turn at the next stoplight. The motel would be four blocks down on his right. He could hardly believe his sister was really this close. When he finally saw the neon light of the motel sign, his gut knotted.
He flipped the turn signal, and as he drove into the parking lot, he began reciting the details his dad had given him in his mind. Seven doors down from the office, window facing the street, room 107. There weren’t any parking spaces, but that didn’t matter. Justin wheeled his cruiser behind the car parked in front of 107, while the other seven officers fanned out beside him and parked.
Justin checked the rearview mirror again. Their abrupt and silent arrival had caught the interest of people walking the streets. Some were slowing down; others had come to a complete stop, curious as to what was happening. That many patrol cars in one place was unusual, especially since highway patrol territory was the roads and interstates. He couldn’t do anything about their presence, but as long as the curious kept their distance they’d be fine.
He got out with his weapon drawn, slipping between the cars, as did the officers behind him.
Justin motioned for two patrolmen to stay outside as guards, then pounded the door with his fist and called out loudly, “Nevada Highway Patrol. Open the door!”
* * *
Sitting alone in a darkened room would normally have made Star sleepy, but she was too sore and scared to close her eyes. When she heard the knock she nearly flew out of her chair, but then she heard her brother’s voice and felt an instant flood of relief and hope. One quick glance through the peephole was all it took. Her knees went weak.
Justin!
Forgetting she still held the gun, she unlocked the door and seconds later the room was flooded with police, all yelling at her.
“Drop your weapon! Drop your weapon!”
She had not even remembered she was still holding it and immediately laid it on the floor.
Her brother’s voice sounded cold and angry as he grabbed her by the wrist.
“Where’s Star Davis? What have you done with her?” he yelled.
She was shaking so hard her body was swaying.
“Justin, it’s me! I told Daddy to tell you I was in disguise. Didn’t he tell you?”
Justin stared at the woman standing before him in disbelief.
“Starla?”
She nodded and held his gaze firmly, waiting for some sign of recognition.
“Oh, my God,” he whispered suddenly. Then he pulled her into a hug.
But the moment his arms slid against her back she screamed out in pain.
Justin immediately let her go, then turned and pointed at his team.
“Close the door and hit the lights!” he ordered, then grabbed Star by the arms. “What’s wrong with you?”
She shrugged out of his grasp as the lights came on, then turned her back to the room and pulled the old T-shirt over her head.
She heard the officers gasp. One cursed softly beneath his breath. One cleared his throat.
When Justin spoke, his voice was shaking. “Sweet Mother of God! Sis...what happened to you?”
She lowered her shirt and turned back to face him. “I was in FBI custody when Anton’s men caught up to us. They shot at the car we were in. It started rolling and... Sammy and I were thrown out of the open sunroof. I guess I slid across a lot of desert.”
There was a muscle ticking at the side of Justin’s eye, the only outward sign of his distress.
“We need to get you out of here now. I’m going to cuff you and take you out as a prisoner. We want this to look like a regular arrest, in case any of Anton’s hunters are out there. We don’t want anyone to realize we have you. So keep your head down. Don’t look up no matter what.”
“I need my backpack,” she said.
Justin handed it off to one of the officers as she turned and let him cuff her.
She was in tears.
“Thank you—all of you. I’ve dreamed of this moment for seven years, and there aren’t enough words to express what this means to me.”
Each of the officers nodded in respect as Justin led her past them. One touched her arm, another her hand, simple gestures to let her know they heard and understood.
Then the door was open, and they were on the move. With no wasted motion, he put her in the back seat of his cruiser, buckled her in as he would have any suspect they’d taken into custody, but before he backed out, he quickly unlocked the cuffs and closed the door.
“Let’s do this,” he said to the men, and within moments they were all back in the cruisers.
The sound of eight high-powered vehicles starting up at once echoed within the confines of the parking lot.
Justin led the way out, back through the streets of Las Vegas and then out of the city. The moment they passed the city limits sign, they hit their lights and sirens and were doing eighty miles an hour when they disappeared into the night.
* * *
Nick gave Quinn a quick glance as he slid behind the wheel. His head was pounding. He patted his pocket to make sure he hadn’t left the bottle of pain pills behind, then turned up the air conditioner to cool off the car a little faster. She was sitting so still...almost too quiet. He had yet to explain why this was happening in the middle of the night and guessed she was nervous.
“Are you okay? I can recline the seat if you’d feel better lying down?” he asked.
“No, I’m okay. Just uneasy about this. What’s going on?”
Nick put the car in gear, and as he drove away, he began to explain what he’d learned about the fire alarm and the sprinklers, and the bounty on Star Davis’s head.
Quinn was quiet for so long after Nick stopped talking that he was wondering if he’d said too much. As he stopped for a red light, he absently noted a convoy of Nevada Highway Patrol cars passing through the intersection and was wondering why so many were in the city at this time of night when Quinn finally spoke.
“She’s tough, isn’t she, Nick?”
“Who? Star?”
“Yes. She knew testifying for the Feds would be dangerous, but she loved her baby enough to take the chance to make a new life for them. And she’s still taking chances, willing to do anything to change her life. I hope she gets away...far, far away. And I hope Anton Baba winds up in prison somewhere...or dead. Preferably dead. People who do what he does don’t deserve another chance.”
“It’s my job to find and capture the bad guys and bring them in...but I’m not going to argue,” Nick said.
“I’ve been afraid. I ran,” she said.
The quiet tone in her words reminded him of what she’d said about her past. Some horrors could only be talked about in whispers. He reached across the seat and gave her hand a quick squeeze.
“It took you a while to do it, but you ran straight into my arms. I’m still trying to come to terms with the odds of this happening, although I probably shouldn’t be surprised. This is the city for luck and playing the odds.”
Then the light turned green and he drove on.
Again she stayed silent as he steered into the flow of traffic. After a few minutes more of trying to stay awake, Quinn leaned her head back against the headrest.
“Are we far from your home?” she asked.
“No, not far at all.”
“Do you live in an apartment?”
He smiled.
“No. I have what’s called a Spanish-style bungalow. Three bedrooms, with some bells and whistles. You’ll have your own room with a private bath.”
“It sounds like heaven, but I don’t want to wear out my welcome.”
“That’s not going to happen unless you snore. I’m the only one allowed to snore in my house.”
She smiled.
“You make me laugh, Nick Saldano.”
“You will learn that I have a full repertoire of amazing skills.”
Her laugh was soft, but he heard it. It felt good to know he’d taken her mind off the fact that Anton Baba knew her name.
It wasn’t until he finally turned onto his street that he began to relax. When he saw his house, he tapped the remote for the garage door, and it was already going up as he turned into the driveway.
Quinn was wide-eyed now and taking notice of all the houses on the block. They all had some kind of security light on except for his. Seeing Nick’s home by moonlight gave it a hint of secrecy.
The light from the garage door opener was dim as he pulled into the garage, but light enough to see her Harley up against a wall and the duffel bag still tied down on the back.
“My bike! Oh, thank you for taking care of it. It’s basically my whole life right there.”
He hit the remote to close the door, and as it was going down, he brushed the back of his finger along her cheek.
“Hey... I said I would. Don’t doubt the cop in the car beside you. Sorry everything is so dark, but I haven’t been home in days...actually, not since you walked into Homicide and turned my world upside down.”
“I’m not afraid of the dark,” Quinn said. “Besides, you’re light enough for me.”
Nick was so moved by the declaration that it took him a few moments to speak. Then he reached for her hand.
“You were always special to me, and nothing has changed that. I know you’re scared. I’m scared for you. But it’s no longer just you against the world. You have me, and we have the entire Las Vegas police force on our side. I can’t promise the rest of this is going to be smooth sailing, but I can promise you won’t bear it alone.”
Quinn nodded. Blinking back tears, she unbuckled the seat belt and grabbed the blanket in her lap.
Nick aimed a remote and deactivated the security alarm, then hit another button that turned on a few lights inside.
“I’ll show you to your room and then come back for your things while you get settled in, okay?”
“Yes.”
Shaky and exhausted, Quinn let him help her into the house.
She caught glimpses of dark wood and warm red tiles on the floor as they moved through the kitchen, and overstuffed leather furniture in the living room off to her right as he led her down a hall.
The energy in the house was calm. She would be safe within these walls. When she was a child, Nick and safety were synonymous. Despite their unexpected reunion, it seemed nothing had changed.
“This is my bedroom,” he said, pointing to the open door on the right. “Yours will be the next one on the left.”
The lights in this room were not programmed into his remote, so he flipped the switch on the wall and then stepped aside for her to enter.
“I have a great cleaning lady, so I trust everything in here is in good shape. The bathroom is through that door. There’s a shower and a tub, plus a linen closet with towels and washcloths.”
He led the way into the bathroom, opening drawers to show her where extra toiletries were kept and where the night-light was so she wouldn’t be stumbling around in the dark.
And all the while was watching Quinn’s face. Her silence was unnerving, and he was hoping she wasn’t suddenly uneasy about being alone with him.
“There’s also a lock on your bedroom door,” he added in case it might reassure her.
Quinn looked up at him then, and he realized there were tears in her eyes.
“I’m not afraid of you,” she said quietly and then walked into his arms and laid her head on his chest. “Thank you for this...for a safe place to be while I heal.”
“Anytime. Always,” he said and kissed the top of her head. “I’m going after your things. I’ll turn down the bed as I go so it’s ready when you are.”
He gave her a gentle hug, careful not to hurt her shoulder, and left her in the bathroom, closing the door behind him as he went. She heard him moving around the bedroom, then heard him walking away. She had washed up and was already in bed when he came back with her duffel bag.
“I’m going to put this on the desk so you won’t have to bend over to get to your things in the morning. I have my pain pills if you need one, and I’ll call the doctor tomorrow to get your meds.”
“Thank you,” Quinn said, watching as he moved about the room adjusting the curtains and lights.
She couldn’t get over the fact that they were back in each other’s lives, or that she was in the guest room in his home.
Nick leaned over and lightly kissed her on the cheek.
“Welcome to my home. Sleep until you’re ready to get up.”
She wanted to hug him, but didn’t.
“I am so grateful,” she said.
“I’m the one who’s thankful to be able to help you,” he said and headed for the doorway, only to pause at the foot of her bed.
“You are a very beautiful woman, Quinn O’Meara,” he said, and then he turned out the light and closed the door.
Quinn shivered. Part of her wanted him to come back and explain what that meant but was too afraid it meant nothing. She nestled down into the pillows beneath her head, eyeing the room again. This time it was in shadows, lit only by the night-light in the bathroom. After years of apartment hopping, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept in a real home.
The house was quiet. A neighborhood dog was barking somewhere down the block. The glow from the streetlights coming through the closed blinds left thin slashes of light on the darkened walls. She was in Nick Saldano’s house and she was safe. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
After the constant bustle of the hospital and the messages on the nurses’ intercom interrupting her sleep, the silence wrapped around her like a hug. She touched the place on her cheek where Nick had kissed her and let go.
The next time she woke, the sun was up and the comforting scent of coffee filled the room.
* * *
Anton had gone to the TomCat Club, one of the houses he ran outside of Vegas. He’d availed himself of one of the new girls and spent the whole time thinking Star was better than this and sent her away after he tired of her. He was still asleep when his cell phone began to ring. He rolled over, saw that it was already almost 9:00 a.m. and frowned. He never slept this late. The phone rang again but without an ID. He wasn’t going to answer it, then remembered his life was not stable enough to ignore anything and reached for the receiver.
“Hello.”
“Your girl’s not in Vegas.”
“Who is this?” he snapped.
“Just a guy doing you a favor. Star’s gone. Word is she got picked up.”
“And you’re telling me this, why? Because you’re such a Good Samaritan?”
“I’m telling you this so you won’t hurt Luis Alvarez for letting her get away.”
“Who is this?” Anton snapped.
“Just another Alvarez who appreciates your generosity toward my siblings.”
“Okay, I hear you and thank you for the info,” Anton said.
The line went dead.
Anton’s belly was in knots. He guessed she’d been picked up by the Feds, and this time there was no chasing after her. It was time to leave the country.
A couple of hours later he was packed and ready to go, with just a few loose ends to tie up. He called the hospital to check on Luis’s condition and learned he was still in ICU. He left info with the billing office to send the charges to him as a signal to Luis that they were okay with each other. Now it was time to check in on the one person other than Star who could do some real damage to him right now. The woman who’d witnessed the car crash.
“Transfer me back to the main office,” he told the woman on the phone. “I need to inquire about another patient.”
“Yes, sir. One moment, please,” the billing clerk said.
Anton got a couple of minutes of music and then another voice in his ear.
“Centennial Hill Hospital. How may I direct your call?”
“I need to get the current status on a friend who is a patient there,” he said.
“One moment,” the operator said, and again Anton got the hold music.
“Centennial Hill Hospital. How can I help you?”
“I would like the current status of a friend. Her name is Quinn O’Meara.”
“Yes, sir. Let me check,” she said, then moments later, “Oh... I’m sorry, sir. We don’t have anyone here by that name.”
Anton’s heart skipped a beat. “Check again,” he demanded.
A moment of quiet, and then the clerk confirmed what Anton already suspected—she’d been discharged.
“Damn it!” he yelled, throwing the phone down on his bed and shoving a hand through his hair in angry frustration. “Son of a bitch. I bet the Feds have her up, too.”
Now the urgency he felt to leave was overwhelming. The car he’d called from home to come pick him up was outside, waiting to take him to the private airport where he kept his jet, and he was digging his passport out of the briefcase when the phone rang again. This time there was a name on caller ID, and it made him groan.
“For God’s sakes! Will this shit ever end?” he muttered, then took a deep breath to collect himself and answered the call.
“Good morning, Mr. Stewart.”
“Good morning, Anton. I have a firm delivery date for the products you needed.”
“Right...about those products. It appears I won’t be here to take delivery after all, so I won’t be wanting them at this time.”
“What do you mean, you don’t want them?” Stewart snapped.
Anton’s voice rose in unchecked anger.
“Exactly what I said. I have a situation I’m dealing with, and I don’t want to mess with a whole new delivery right now.”
“That’s all well and good for you, big shot. But that’s not good for me,” Stewart snapped again. “You’ve just proved to me that I can’t trust you to keep your word.”
Anton frowned. He didn’t like to be challenged like this, but Stewart was a man of mystery, and Anton didn’t know enough about him to push any further.
“All I can say is I’m sorry,” Anton said. “I’ll let you know when I’ll be available.”
“We’re not done here,” Stewart said and hung up.
A niggle of concern pushed at Anton’s conscience, but he let it go and called to have his luggage taken to the limo.
He called his home, left word with his housekeeper to tell people he was on a business trip, and then he was off.
But the trip to the airport became yet another issue—they got stuck behind an accident and were trapped in a long line of traffic while ambulances removed the injured and tow trucks removed the wrecked vehicles. Finally one lane was opened to traffic, and the line slowly began to move.
Anton kept looking over his shoulder the whole time they were there. The impending hand of the law was far too close on his ass.
By the time they reached the airport he was short-tempered and shouting even though there was no need. His pilot, Paul Franklin, met him at the top of the boarding ramp.
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Baba.”
“Get me in the air ASAP,” Anton muttered.
“Absolutely, sir,” the pilot said. Then he added, “There was a situation here. As I was driving in I saw a man staked out watching this airport. He’s still there, up on the ridge as you drive in. I’m sure he saw this car and probably you getting out. I just thought you should know in case...”
Anton tossed his briefcase onto a section of seating along the wall and grabbed his phone.
“Thank you. I’ll take care of it,” he said.
The pilot nodded and left as Anton sat down in his flight seat beside his dining table and buckled up, then waved away the flight attendant.
“Not yet,” he said.
She turned and walked away as he made his call.
“Hello, Mr. Baba.”
“I have a problem at my airport. Get out here ASAP. There is a man in an old green Jeep up on the ridge as you drive in. I want him gone.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How soon can you get here?”
“Within the next ten minutes.”
“We won’t take off until it’s done. Call me.”
“Yes, sir.”
He disconnected, then buzzed the pilot, who’d already fired up the engines.
“Don’t take off until I say so.”
“Yes, sir,” he said.
Anton wiped a hand across his face in frustration. All of this shit was getting on his nerves.
“Linda! Bring me a drink.”
The flight attendant entered within seconds, bringing Anton his usual in-flight drink of choice—two shots of whiskey, neat—and mini-Bavarian pretzels, heavy on the salt, in a cut-glass crystal dish.
Anton eyed the woman who’d been serving him in this capacity for as long as he’d been in Las Vegas. Logic told him she must be in her midforties by now, but she still looked like the young, vivacious girl she’d been when he hired her.
“Thank you, Linda.”
“You’re welcome, sir. Would you like me to bring you something to eat? We have the Gulf shrimp on ice that you like and some rare roast beef with horseradish sauce.”
Anton took a sip of the whiskey and leaned back with a sigh of relief.
“Shrimp cocktail and a roast beef sandwich. Sounds perfect.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll have it to you soon after the pilot reaches flight altitude.”
“We’re not leaving yet, so hold off for a bit.”
“Yes, sir,” she said and walked out.
Anton sipped on his whiskey and nibbled at the pretzels while waiting for that text.
Five minutes came and went, and then ten. He was getting antsy when his phone suddenly dinged, signaling a text.
It is done.
He buzzed the pilot again.
“Take off now, please, and hurry.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Baba.”
Anton buckled up.
“This is your captain. We are getting ready to taxi for takeoff. Take your seats and buckle up, please.”
Linda made sure Anton was situated and then went to her seat and buckled herself in.
Anton had visions of the Feds somehow stopping takeoff and boarding his plane, then hauling him away in cuffs. It wasn’t until he felt the plane go airborne that he finally relaxed.