Dangerous Bond (Jamie Bond Mysteries Book 4) (19 page)

Jenkins darted between the tables, surprising the early-morning diners. The little weasel wove between them like navigating a maze. He was outnumbered though. He had to have known that. He was panting too, and I could see a sheen of perspiration on his face. He paused as he rounded the breakfast buffet displays, his eyes darting between me and the exit behind me. I felt Derek and Sam come up just to my left, blocking the path Jenkins had taken into the dining room. A quick glance at Derek had me struggling to hold back laughter. His mustache had loosened and tilted. One half covered a portion of his mouth.

When I looked back, Jenkins had stolen a biscuit and several slices of bacon. How rude.

"Sam," I shouted and moved closer to the breakfast display.

"We got him," she said and went in the opposite direction.

Jenkins just stood there frozen with a slice of bacon sticking out of his mouth. Sam went around one end, and I was making my way toward the other. He was cornered, and the wide-eyed fear on his face stated he knew it.

But instead of coming with us peacefully, he reached into a serving dish and pulled back a handful of scrambled eggs. Gosh, was he that hungry?

Suddenly the eggs were flying through the air and hit me in the forehead.

I yelped. "Sonofa…" They were hot. I stared at him, watched a small blob of egg fall from my eyebrow, and did the first thing that came to mind. I grabbed an apple and flung it at him. It missed by a mile, but there were plenty of others. I refused to acknowledge that my actions were childish. Flying breakfast items were better than flying bullets, right?

Jenkins flung some eggs at Sam and then started tossing around slabs of ham like Frisbees. A slice hit me in the neck. I grabbed a kiwi, but it was hard aiming well with grapes hitting me in the face.

"Hey, that hurt!" I shouted. I tossed a handful of hash browns at him, hoping they were as hot as the eggs.

"Jamie, look out," I heard Sam yell, and I ducked just in time to avoid being hit by a cantaloupe slice being thrown like a boomerang.

"What's going on here?" I heard someone screaming. Out of my peripheral vision, I spotted Charley and Elaine. At first they were fully focused on the food fight…until Elaine's eyes wandered to my right and widened in shock. Or maybe outrage.

"Derek Bond!" she yelled. "What on earth…" She trailed off, taking in his disguise.

"Hey, babe," he said, giving her a little one-finger wave.

"Are you spying on me?!"

"Uh…" Derek didn't get a chance to answer before a glob of cottage cheese whacked him in the side of the head.

"Take that, you suspicious old coot!"

"But, Elaine—"

He was cut short by a handful of pineapple joining the cottage cheese.

Normally I would have been doubled over with laughter, but I was preoccupied by fending off my own incoming fruit salad as Jenkins picked up a grapefruit half and lobbed it at me.

I retaliated with a ladle full of sticky oatmeal that I hoped landed in his greasy hair.

"Gross!" he yelled. Bingo. He grabbed a large serving spoon, dipped it into the eggs Benedict and hollandaise sauce, and shot it at me. The bastard.

I held up an arm to shield my face from the scalding sauce. Luckily, most of it missed me, but a good chunk of my hair now smelled like butter and lemons.

Someone shouted for us to stop, but none of us obeyed. It wouldn't be long until hotel security arrived. And Jenkins knew it, if the panicked look in his eyes was any indication. As biscuits flew through the air, his eyes shifted toward the exit as if contemplating a break for it.

I rushed forward, stepped on a pineapple chunk, and slipped. By holding on to the end of a dessert table so I wouldn't go down completely, I managed to stay off my butt, but my arm leaned into something sticky. Maple syrup. I hoped. This cleanup would take a giant-sized bottle of hand sanitizer.

"Stop," Derek shouted.

Elaine was rubbing orange slices on his head. His hat and glasses were on the floor by his feet. That darn mustache was still hanging on for dear life.

Charley stood back in the archway, with her mouth hung open. She was smart to stay out of it.

I turned my attention back to Jenkins, who was being pelleted by granola. Sam's aim was spot-on whether she held a semiautomatic or oats and nuts.

Jenkins reached for the bacon. Oh no, he couldn't waste the bacon.

I lunged forward and threw myself at him for the second time in less than 24 hours. This time there was no dangerous concrete, and I wouldn't tumble down a flight of stairs, so I didn't have to be as careful. Which was just as well because all of the fallen food made the floor slippery.

I landed on his back, like a giant bug. Since my shirt was covered with various food remains, I started to slip off him, so I dug my elbows into his shoulders and my knees at his hips. Between my weight and the thick Belgian waffle that hit him in the face, we went down.

I'm not sure how long I clung to a cursing and squirming Jenkins, but it wasn't until I saw security swarm the buffet that I contemplated letting him go. I felt someone grab my forearm and start to lift me up and off of the sticky little weasel's back. "Easy there, Bond," a familiar voice said close to my ear.

I didn't need to turn my head to realize it was Aiden. Where he had come from, I had no idea. Of course he showed up
after
I had to single handedly tackle his bad guy to the ground. I rested one open palm on Jenkins's back and pushed against him while I found my footing, which wasn't easy, considering I still had a chunk of pineapple stuck to the bottom of my shoe. Those suckers were slipperier than they looked. As soon as I was off of him, a security guard quickly cuffed the weasel.

When I was finally on my feet, I brushed the fruit off onto the carpet, pushed a chunk of hollandaise-sauce drenched hair behind my ear, and faced Aiden. "Nice to see you," I said, trying my best at a professional voice.

He grinned. "Likewise." He gave me a slow up and down, and I could see laughter threatening to overtake his expression.

Yeah, yeah, chuckle it up, buddy. I probably would've too if the pungent aroma of eggs and maple syrup wasn't starting to make me gag.

"I am so sorry I missed this," he said.

"I'm sure security has it on tape," I said, feeling a bit cheeky.

His face lit up. Then he turned to a security guard holding Jenkins. "I'll need a copy of that, Bob."

They were already on a first-name basis?

Bob didn't look all that happy at the state of the dining room or at being ordered around by an out-of-state ADA. I couldn't blame him. We'd basically destroyed the place. And by this point, we had a small audience watching and filming us on their cell phones. Maya and Caleigh had joined Charley, and luckily Elaine had stopped squishing strawberries on Derek's chest.

The security guard helped Jenkins to his feet. "The police are on their way."

Aiden turned his attention to Jenkins. "Where is Heavy Cash?"

So Aiden had figured out that Jenkins was involved in Heavy's abduction too. I wondered how much he knew about Jenkins Jr.

But Jenkins kept his mouth shut. I glanced at Sam and wished she could threaten him to talk with her Taser, but Aiden and the security guard didn't need to see that. It also didn't need to be filmed and posted on YouTube by all the spectators either. When this night—or day or whatever time it was now—was over, I planned to order the largest alcoholic drink I could find and enjoy it in the bubbliest bath I could find. I was all out of Zen and needed a super recharge.

"If you want to play games, we can," Aiden told Jenkins, putting on his seriously intimidating ADA face. "I'm getting paid to spend time with you. Can you say the same? How is business doing?"

I inwardly smiled at professional Aiden being a shark. It was kinda hot.

Jenkins grimaced and made some sound in his throat.

"Move, move," said a voice in the distance.

I turned to see Heavy's manager, Johnson, trying to elbow his way through the small crowd.

"Mr. Prince?" one of the security guards called.

Aiden gave me an apologetic smile. "Duty calls," he said. Then he moved toward the guard's side, listening intently to something.

While part of me was dying to eavesdrop on the conversation, I didn't get the chance, as Johnson finally made his way through the crowd.

"Jamie!" he hailed me.

I spun to find him still in his rumpled slacks, though he'd thrown a button-down shirt on over the undershirt from earlier. Even though it was horribly misbuttoned. "Jamie," he said breathlessly, like he'd been running. He looked over at Aiden and lowered his voice. "I just heard from Heavy."

That perked me right up. "When? Where is he?"

"He called my cell from a number I didn't recognize. His voice was low, and he only got out a couple of words before it cut out."

"What did he say?" I asked, steering him away from the crowd.

"Parking garage."

That was all I needed to hear.

I signaled to Sam and Caleigh, then booked out of the dining room. I felt my girls hot on my heels, with Johnson huffing a few paces behind. Derek must have seen me bolt, as he turned and joined our chase as well.

The parking garage was located just behind the casino and was almost as tall as the casino itself. If Heavy was being held there, he could be almost anywhere. I paused at the garage elevator for a moment, giving the girls, Johnson, and Derek a second to catch up as I contemplated my options. On instinct, I went with the top floor. If I were trying to hide, that would be the least traveled level. We waited an agonizing minute and a half as the elevator traveled upward. When it opened, I scanned the nearly deserted level and quickly spotted a dark late-model sedan sitting alone near the back corner.

I made a beeline toward it and was rewarded when the driver's side door opened and Wrap Guy Jr. stepped out. He too still wore his Lite Wrap's uniform. When he spotted me, his brows shot up his face.

"That's the man who said he was a detective," Johnson yelled.

I no longer had doubts, but it was nice to get confirmation.

Junior started to get back into the car, probably to drive off, but Sam pulled out her Taser. "Stop right there, or you're barbeque!" she shouted.

Junior's eyebrows went even higher, this time accompanied by his hands as they rose into a surrender motion. "T-take it easy, lady."

Banging and muffled sounds came from the trunk. It had to be Heavy.

"Pop the trunk," I said as Sam pointed the Taser at Junior.

He was a lot smarter than he looked and quickly complied, leaning into the front seat to click the trunk open.

Derek lifted it, and we all peeked inside. Sure enough, Heavy Cash was squished into it like a sardine. How he fit was beyond me. There was duct tape across his mouth and his wrists. His eyes were wide with fear, and I thought of Johnson calling him a cuddly bear.

Derek and Johnson helped Heavy out of the trunk, while Caleigh found a knife in the glove box, which she used to cut the duct tape at his wrists.

When both of Heavy's feet were on the ground, he peeled the tape off of his mouth and stared at me. "Thank you for rescuing me from that crazy dude. I thought he was going to kill me." And then he did a double take. "Whoa, why do you look like you just rolled around in the buffet?"

There was a desperation and softness to his voice that tugged at my heartstrings, despite the food comment. It didn't matter that Heavy was bigger than Junior. The man had genuinely been frightened. "What happened?"

"This idiot turns up at my hotel room with a fake badge and says he's the police. Says I need to go with him to answer some questions."

"And you did?" I asked.

Heavy nodded. "Sure I did. I'm an upstanding citizen, yo. But then this weasel pulls a gun and tells me to get in this lame crap-mobile's trunk, or he's gonna shoot me. Jerk." He punctuated that last barb by kicking Junior in the shins.

"Ow!"

"How did you call me?" Johnson asked Heavy.

"Idiot boy here left his phone charging in the backseat. I reached through the trunk hatch to the backseat and was able to get a couple words out before he caught me." He shot Junior a look. "Of course, then he taped my mouth and hands. Jerk." He moved to kick Junior again, but this time Junior sidestepped him.

"Why did he grab you in the first place?" Caleigh asked.

Junior pursed his lips together like he wasn't talking.

Heavy took a deep breath. "Man, this whole thing's been like a mess. I don't even know where to begin."

"Begin with why Roger had your gun," Sam offered. I had to admit, I wanted to know the answer to that too.

"Okay, look," Heavy said. "Here's how it went down. Roger was terrified of Ian Jenkins. The lawsuit Jenkins had brought against him was being settled, but Roger didn't have the money to pay the settlement."

"Claremont was a bastard," Junior shouted.

This time
I
kicked him in the shins.

"Ow!"

"Roger was planning to file bankruptcy. Turns out his wife had spent most of his sandwich-fame fortune. The last of it was invested into our music video."

Poor Bristol. She hadn't wanted to know about their finances, and she wasn't even aware of her predicament. At least there was the insurance money. I hoped.

"If Roger filed bankruptcy, he said Jenkins wouldn't get a single dime out of the lawsuit after all. Jenkins knew it and had been threatening Roger to get his money, which is why I gave him a gun for protection."

"Why didn't you just tell this to the police?"

"Like they'd believe me. Man, I got a record!"

I bit back a reply that I knew his record was mostly manufactured and any "street fighting" experience he had was likely all with light sabers.

"Anyway, after I found out Roger was killed with my gun, I knew that Jenkins had done the dude in."

"That's a lie," Weasel Jr. shouted.

All of us, except for Heavy, said, "Shut up."

Junior actually looked mildly offended.

Heavy continued his story. "I figured the cops were going to arrest me too, so I went to my friend, Julio's, grabbed him, and we drove to Vegas as quickly as possible to finish the music video."

This part I knew, but I didn't bother to interrupt.

"Only things went south when Jenkins arrived in Vegas too. He came to my hotel room and tried to blackmail me. He said he'd go to the police with a fake witness testimony saying how he saw me shoot Roger. He wanted me to pay up the money that Jenkins was entitled to under the lawsuit settlement. As if I had that kind of cash on me."

Heavy pointed to Junior, who glared at all of us. "But while his son is crazy as a mofo, Jenkins was no match for a group of rappers. We tied him up and shoved him into my bathroom."

He chuckled, and Johnson joined in.

"What were you planning to do with Jenkins?"

Heavy and his manager stopped laughing and gave each other a long look. Then they turned blank stares my way.

I held up one hand. "Never mind. I don't want to know." Sometimes it was better to be ignorant of intended crimes.

I was just about to ask how Jenkins had known where to find Heavy, when I spotted the elevator doors open and a familiar face walk through them.

Aiden. I had to admit, this was one time I was happy to see him crashing my party. My grip on Junior was getting tedious. And the hollandaise smell was making me nauseous.

Minutes later the parking garage was swarming with security guards and local PD, Junior was in custody, and his car had been cordoned off as a crime scene. Heavy told his tale a second time to Aiden, though I noticed Johnson carefully censoring some of the parts this time.

Aiden listened carefully, peppering him with appropriate questions throughout. When he got to the end, Aiden waited a beat to take it all in, staring thoughtfully at Heavy.

Finally he said, "We'll need to get an official statement from you, but from what it sounds, there won't be any formal charges brought against you."

I let out a sigh of relief. Despite what they may have done with Jenkins, they weren't involved with Roger's death, and that's what mattered to me. Plus, Jenkins kinda deserved it.

But Heavy jumped up. A deep frown furrowed his brow. "What? No, dude, I just confessed to giving Roger that gun. And we tied up Jenkins!"

"I am not going to press charges for kidnapping, Mr. Cash. Be grateful." Aiden walked off to join a group of police looking through Junior's car.

"But…" Heavy trailed off, looking defeated.

I thought of Julio's words and how Heavy getting arrested would've been great, free publicity. "Uh, Heavy?" I said.

He turned to me with the saddest pair of puppy dog eyes I'd ever seen. "Yeah?"

"There were some people filming the food fight. The press will probably be here soon, if they aren't already," I said.

Heavy's eyes lit up. He nudged Johnson in the ribs. "You hear that, yo?"

Johnson sighed. "Oh yeah, I heard."

He raced toward the elevators with his manager reluctantly in tow. But before he was out of sight, he turned and pointed at me. "Thank you, little lady."

I smiled and then looked to Sam and Caleigh. Caleigh still looked clean and mostly fresh. Sam, however, had a few grapes stuck in her curls, and her halter top was stained with breakfast. And Derek was a fruit salad mess. I reached over and yanked off his mustache.

"Ow," he said and rubbed his lip.

"What do you say to showers and then breakfast?" I asked. I tossed Derek his fake 'stache.

Sam wrinkled her nose. "I don't think I can stomach anything that involves an egg."

Caleigh linked her arms around mine and Sam's, and we headed to the elevator. Derek followed behind.