Chapter Eight

 

 

 

I was just getting ready to board the plane when Slammer called me.

“I’ve got a problem,” he said angrily. “My step-daughter, Jessica, is missing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Frannie told me that she called her, about twenty minutes ago, and said that Jessica thought that she was being tailed by some of the Devil’s Rangers.”

I swore. This was the same girl who’d been raped. It didn’t look good for her. “Where was Jessica when she spotted them?”

“Leaving our townhouse. She took off and was supposed to meet everyone here at the clubhouse, but hasn’t showed up yet. She’s not answering her phone, either. Frannie is worried sick.”

“I’ll get there as quickly as possible,” I said. “In the meantime, I’ll make some phone calls. Find out as much as I can about Reaper and see if anyone knows where he might be holding up.”

“I’d appreciate it, brother.”

I hung up and got into Barney’s plan, a small Beechcraft that I’d ridden in at least a dozen times.

“Can I use my cell when we’re up?” I asked him. Normally, I wasn’t much of a phone conversationalist, so I’d never bothered checking with him before.

“You won’t get a good signal. If it’s urgent, I’d make the call now, before we fly.”

“Okay. How long will it take to get to Jensen, do you suppose?”

He looked at his watch. “About six hours.”

“Okay. Give me a minute,” I said, shoving my travel bag into one of the compartments.

“No problem.”

I stepped back outside and began making calls. Eventually, I found a contact who knew something. Brett Davis.

“Reaper has an uncle with a cabin in Cedar Rapids,” said Brett. “Rumor has it that he was going to be visiting it soon.”

Which was only a couple hundred miles from Jensen, I thought.

“You got a name or address?” I asked him.

“No, but I can make some phone calls.”

“I’d appreciate it,” I replied.

“I’ll call you back in a few.”

“Okay. Leave a message if I don’t answer.”

“Will do.”

We hung up and I stepped back onto the plane.

“You ready?” asked Barney.

“Just ten more minutes. Sorry.”

He laughed. “No problem. I’m in no rush. Sophie is out of town and I’m supposed to be fixing the fence, in the back of the yard. Wasn’t looking forward to that pain-in-the-ass project. Now I have an excuse to put it off longer.”

Sophie was his wife. I’d never met her but had heard plenty about her. I’d known Barney for two years and he was a good pilot. He was also a good storyteller. He liked to reminisce about his life and didn’t ask a lot of questions about mine, which was one of the reasons why I’d stuck with him.

“If you need help, let me know,” I told him. I’d never been to his place and normally liked to keep things impersonal with business associates, but Barney was no spring chicken. Helping a guy like him out seemed like the right thing to do.

“I might take you up on that,” he said, reaching into his travel bag. He pulled out a large, metal lunch box. “Since we’re waiting, I may as well eat. You want an egg-salad sandwich? I made some for the flight.”

“No, that’s okay. Thank you, though.”

“You sure? I made plenty. Just in case.”

My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten for a while. “You sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Here,” he said, handing me one wrapped in plastic. “I’ve got some bottled water, too. Help yourself.”

“Thank you, Barney. You’re a life-saver,” I said unwrapping it. I took a bite. “It’s good. You make it yourself?”

“One of the few things I know how to make. Sophie spoils me. Does all the cooking, usually.” He patted his stomach. “She’s been gone for two days, though. I’ve already lost a couple pounds.”

I smiled. He wasn’t fat, but he looked well-fed. He also had many laugh lines and his blue eyes were always twinkling. “You’re a lucky man.”

“I know. I thank the stars every day that she’s put up with my orneriness.”

“You’re ornery?” I asked, surprised. “I would have never guessed. You’re always in a good mood.”

He shrugged. “I’m diabetic. If I don’t eat regularly, I can be a bit of an asshole.”

“I didn’t know you were diabetic.”

“I take insulin shots and make sure I have this lunch box filled with oranges and Wheat Thins,” he said, patting it.

“Shit. I’m sorry for eating one of your sandwiches. You going to be okay for the flight?”

“I made extra. Don’t worry.”

“Well, I appreciate you doing this. I know the flight was spur-of-the-moment.”

“Like I said, it was a win-win situation.”

“Good.”

“So, how long have you and Sophie been married, again?”

“Forty-two years.”

“Wow. That’s impressive.”

He nodded. “Mind you, it hasn’t been easy. Relationships take work and there were times when we wanted to kill each other. But, in the end, it’s all been worth it. I get to spend my dying days with a woman that I’ve shared so much with.”

“So, no regrets?”

“Nope. Well, it would have been nice if we could have had kids. Maybe even adopted.”

“Couldn’t have them, huh?”

“No. We tried for years but found out later that she had a condition. Something called Endometriosis, which made it harder to get pregnant.”

“What about treatment?” I asked, having heard the term, but not what it meant.

“It didn’t help much. She didn’t want to take any fertility drugs either. Always said that if it was meant to be, it would happen. Guess it wasn’t meant to be,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“At least you had each other and still do.”

He nodded, smiling. “What about you? Anyone special in your life these days?”

“No.”

“Why not?” he asked seriously.

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess there really isn’t room in my life for a relationship.”

“Too busy, huh?”

“You could say that,” I replied. “I’m always involved with work and obviously, I travel too much.”

“So, you’ve never been in love?”

“Can’t say I have,” I replied.

“What about dating or…” he winked, “knocking boots? A fellow like you must get plenty of women.”

“I get my share,” I replied.  “Usually just one-night-stands.”

“Life is short and before you know it, you’ll be staring up at the ceiling at night, wondering where it went and why you feel so empty inside. A job pays the bills but it shouldn’t be your entire life.”

I already stared at the ceiling at night, but it was because I had plenty of enemies and knew I was being hunted. I didn’t need to share any of them with a woman.

“I get what you’re saying,” I said, knowing that he was speaking from the heart. “I do. Honestly, I guess I just haven’t met the right woman.”

“Sophie has a lot of wonderful friend’s with daughters. We could set you up on some dates?”

“No,” I said chuckling. “I don’t have any problems finding dates. But, thank you.”

“You sure? Because-”

My phone, going off, interrupted him.

“Yeah,” I said, getting up to answer it.

“I got an address. You ready for it?”

I looked back over at Barney. “Do you have a pen and paper?”

“Sure,” he said, wiping his hands against his pants. He reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a pad of paper and a blue pen. “Here.”

“Thanks,” I said, taking it from him. “Okay. I’m ready.”

Brett gave me the information and I wrote it down.

“Thanks,” I said.

“No problem. Keep in touch.”

“I will. I owe you.”

“Buy me a steak dinner the next time you’re in New York.”

I smiled. “Damn right I will.”

“As far as Reaper, be careful with this guy. He’s a real nutter. Gets into some seriously crazy shit.”

“Don’t we all?”

The man chuckled. “There’s crazy and there’s psychotically fucked in the head. The guy doesn’t seem to even care about dying. I heard that he plays Russian Roulette for fun. Even forced his grandmother to play, once.”

“She win?”

“She won to tell about it. When you’re grandmother hates you, you know your shit is messed up.  He should have never been let out of prison.”

“Right. Well, I’ll take care of that problem and make sure Grandma only plays Parcheesi from now on.”

He laughed. “I know you will,” he replied. Brett was with the FBI and knew what I was all about. It didn’t stop him from helping me out, though. Of course, saving his ass, during one of my assignments, probably made me that much more appealing. He’d been beaten and shot by a gang member, in Chicago. One I’d been hired to kill. After walking in on their moment, I filled my order and then took pity on Brett, by dropping him off at a nearby hospital. A month later, I’d heard rumors that he wanted to thank me personally. Knowing that it could have been a trap, I went anyway, meeting him at a seafood restaurant, where we’d talked face-to-face. That was sixteen months ago and since then, we’d helped each other out, more than once. 

I looked over at Barney, who was still eating and watching me intently. “I’d better let you go so we can get into the air. Thanks for the info.”

“You’re welcome. Go take care of business.”

“I will.”

After I hung up, Barney cleared his throat.

“You got problems with your grandmother?” he asked.

“No, but someone else’s apparently needs a Family Intervention,” I replied, texting Slammer the address for Reaper’s uncle’s cabin.

His eyebrows shot up. “You going to be part of that?”

“I hope so.”

Barney smiled and began cleaning up the lunch mess. “You’re a good man. I knew that the moment I saw you, Jordan.”

His words made my stomach sour. If he knew the real Jordan Steele and what I was capable of, something told me that it would crush him. “I don’t know about that. Anyway,” I nodded toward the windshield, “we can leave now.”

He chuckled. “Not much for compliments, are you?”

“Hey, coming from you, I’m flattered, Barney. I truly am. I don’t think there’s anyone that I respect more, to be honest.” Which was the truth. Not only did he appear to be a great husband and business associate, you could tell he really cared about people. There was a shortage of that, these days. 

Barney grinned proudly. “I’m honored you feel that way. Thank you, son.” He started flipping some switches on the dashboard. “I’ll contact the tower for approval and we’ll get moving.”

“Okay. By the way, could we find someplace to land in Cedar Rapids?”

“Why there?” he asked, looking surprised.

“Because there’s been a change of plans. Hope it’s not too much of an inconvenience.”

“No. We can do that. I’ll radio the tower.”

“Thanks. Sorry about the confusion.”

“Not a problem.”

I sat back down and stared out the window as Barney put his headphones on and began preparing for lift-off. I knew that I was going to be late for the party, in Cedar Rapids, and that Slammer’s step-daughter was either dead or wishing she was. No matter what her fate ended up being, I was going to make sure that Reaper was wiped off the face of the earth. Anyone who made their grandmother put a gun to her head, deserved nothing less.