Highways & Hostages (8 page)

Stella continued to wend through the park without speaking. She finally pulled up to a decrepit singlewide. Finn watched as she threw open her door and got out, closing it gently. Finn eyed the mobile home with distaste and started to second-guess himself. He got out of the car, glad to be able to unfurl himself from its cramped interior. He wasn’t claustrophobic, but he didn’t think anyone would be able to spend any significant amount of time in that small, dusty car without going insane. That didn’t bode well for the trip.

“Be careful!” Stella exclaimed. “That door is hanging on by duct tape and a prayer.”

Finn could believe it. He followed Stella up a small set of steps. “This is…nice,” he offered as Stella unlocked the door. She didn’t answer. Instead she stepped into the dark trailer and flicked on a light.

“Phoebe?” she called.

“Phoebe’s not here,” Finn said matter-of-factly.

“And how would you know that?” Stella asked him. “Did you accost her and have her drive you somewhere earlier on her bike?”

“No, but I do know where she is and who she’s with,” Finn explained.

“Did she go to Mexico?” Stella growled.

“Not quite,” Finn replied. He eyed the tatty floral couch that looked like it would have fit perfectly in his Gram’s living room. “Look, can we sit? I’ll explain everything.”

“Will you stop pointing that gun at me if I say yes?”

“Possibly.”

Stella gestured at the couch. Finn sat down experimentally, feeling around for any out-of-place springs. Stella stood in the middle of the room with her arms folded over her chest and one eyebrow raised.

“You might want to sit for this,” Finn suggested.

“I’m fine,” Stella said. “Just tell me what this is all about.”

Finn reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a plastic baggie, its contents somewhat obscured by the blood-red substance coating the bag. He placed it on the coffee table, leaned back, and crossed his legs.

“What
is
that?” Stella asked.

Finn clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back into the sofa. It was actually quite comfortable. “See for yourself.”

Stella inched closer to the coffee table and bent forward. She poked the baggie and leaned closer. She poked it again and screamed.

“Shhh!” Finn directed.

“What the hell is this?” Stella exclaimed.

Finn opened the plastic baggie and pulled out a severed human index finger. The guy at the prop house he’d gotten it from did a great job. He placed it on the coffee table and looked up at Stella. Her eyes were wide, as if she had seen a ghost, and she seemed to be gasping for air. He hoped she wouldn’t faint or something. He didn’t know CPR.

“Oh my God, get that off my coffee table.”

“It’s one of Phoebe’s fingers.”

Stella took her eyes off the severed digit to glare stonily at Finn. “No, it’s not.”

“Yes. It is,” Finn said, calm and collected.

Stella shook her head, never taking her eyes off of the coffee table. “That is NOT Phoebe’s finger. She painted her nails an ugly shade of blue the other day. That is CLEARLY not her finger,” she said with increasing volume.

“Are you sure?” Finn asked.

“WHOSE FUCKING FINGERS ARE ON MY COFFEE TABLE AND WHY AREN’T THEY ATTACHED TO A HAND? AND WHY DO YOU HAVE SEVERED FUCKING FINGERS?” Stella shouted.

Finn sat forward and threw his hands up. “Keep it down! Fine, since you’re so damn difficult. No, they aren’t Phoebe’s fingers, but they very well could be. Phoebe is being held hostage by one of my friends.”

“What the fuck, dude?” Stella said. “I am
so
confused. Is this some kind of shitty-ass prank? Am I on a hidden camera show?” Stella glanced around and waved as if expecting a cameraman to pop out of her minuscule kitchen.

“This isn’t a joke,” Finn said through gritted teeth. He was beginning to lose his patience.

Stella was silent for a moment. “You’re really serious?”

Finn nodded, glad she was finally understanding the gravity of the situation.

Stella sank into one of the shabby armchairs flanking the couch. “Is it Mr. Hot—one of those guys who always comes into the bar with you? Why did you take Phoebe? What do you want from me? I’m broke.”

Finn held his hand up to silence her. “I need you to join me on a road trip for my job. I’ll return Phoebe safe and sound—not that she’s being hurt or tortured or anything,” Finn blurted out.

“Let me get this straight. You’re holding my sister hostage…and you want me to go on a road trip with you?”

“Phoebe’s in great hands. And ‘hostage’ is such a harsh word. He’s more, like,
babysitting
her.”

Stella stared at the fake fingers on the coffee table and crossed her arms. She lifted her eyes to meet Finn’s gaze. “You can keep her.”

“What?” Finn asked, unsure if he’d heard correctly.

“I said you can keep her.” Stella leaned back against the armchair and studied her nails as if bored by the topic of conversation.

Finn sat forward, hands on his knees. “What?”

“This is way more work than I’m willing to put in.”

“Are you serious?” Finn leapt from the sofa. All of his plans hinged on Stella being willing to help him. He hadn’t thought for a second that she would turn him down.

“The kid’s a brat. You can have her.”

“What the fuck? I have your kid sister!”

“And I said you can keep her! Besides, I’ll call the police,” Stella declared, looking him straight in the eye.

Finn towered over the seated Stella and channeled Julian’s intensity. He imagined the look on his face was dangerous.

“You do NOT want to do that. Besides, I have your phone, and what on earth makes you think I’d let you leave this trailer without me?”

“Wait a second, how do I really know you have Phoebe? Let me talk to her.”

Finn threw back his head in frustration, ready to tear his—or Stella’s—hair out. “Phoebe’s alright. But here.” Finn retrieved his own phone and dialed Billy’s number. The phone rang three times.

“What’s shakin’?” Billy answered.

“Stella wants to speak to her sister.”

Billy murmured something. Finn passed the phone to Stella. She listened for a moment, then her eyes widened and slid back over to him.

“Oh God, it’s true,” Stella said in a small voice. She listened again and then held the phone out. “He wants to talk to you.”

“I’m back,” Finn said.

“How’s everything on your end?” Billy asked.

“Just fantastic,” Finn replied.

“Good; keep it that way. Talk to you later.”

Finn clicked off the phone, looked at Stella, and arched a brow.

Stella crossed her arms and fixed Finn with an intense glare. “What’s in it for me?”

Again, Finn was caught off guard. He’d have to watch himself around her. “What’s in it for
you
?”

“Yes, what’s in it for
me,
and what do you need help with?” Stella repeated. “You are obviously desperate for my help, or you wouldn’t have gone to such great lengths.” She waved a hand at the discarded baggie and its severed fingers.

Finn ran a hand through his hair. “I need to get from here to Millstown, Texas by Saturday. It’s near San Antonio. I need your car.”

“So why don’t you just take my car? Why do I have to go with you?”

“Because you’ll run to the police.”

“Driving you to Texas is way more work than I’m willing to put in. What if I promise I won’t run to the police?”

Finn frowned. “Are you serious? Look, I’m going to make A LOT of money by doing this. I’ll give you fifteen percent of what I make.”

Stella’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What kind of job is this? It sounds like you’re going to rob a bank. Are you a bank robber?”

“No, I’m a…courier. I have to pick up something for my boss from Texas and bring it back.”

“So you’re a drug mule,” Stella said.

“How the—” Finn put his hands on his head and doubled over in frustration before righting himself and sighing deeply. “No.”

“Is it legal?”

“Erm…not exactly. Look, I’ll give you twenty percent for your trouble.”

Finn could see Stella turning over the offer in her mind. “Is it blood money?”

“Not at all.”

“I want fifty percent.”

“Twenty-five.”

“Fifty.”

Finn scrubbed at his face. “Thirty-five. I’m being generous here.”

Stella regarded Finn for a few moments. “Could you put that thing away?” she asked, gesturing at the gun. “It’s not exactly instilling me with confidence.”

Finn looked at Stella. He put the gun back in his waistband and raised both hands.

Stella stood with her arms crossed. “Do I have to do anything illegal?”

Finn shook his head. “I just need you to help drive.”

Stella and Finn stood face-to-face for a few moments, staring at each other. “Thirty-five percent, eh?” Stella said.

Finn nodded and swallowed. Stella offered him her hand and Finn shook it, breathing an internal sigh of relief.

“Okay. When do we need to leave?” Stella asked.

Finally, things were progressing! “Tonight,” Finn said.

Stella looked at him aghast. “What would you have done if I said no?”

Finn shrugged.

Stella ran her hands over her hair. “I have to call and ask for time off. Bert’s going to be really suspicious since I
never
take time off. Not even sick days. And I need to call my fiancé—”

“And just what do you plan on saying to him? ‘Sorry, dear, but I have to disappear for a few days with this random guy who has kidnapped my sister. But don’t worry, I’ll call you when I get back’?” Finn recited in a reedy, high-pitched voice.

“I do NOT sound like that. And no, I wasn’t going to use those exact words, but something similar. It’s non-negotiable.”

Finn frowned.
Who the hell was this broad?
He felt like he was losing control of the situation. If—strike that—
when
he completed this job, Julian better make him second in command or he was walking.

“I’m kidding,” Stella said. “Derek would freak if he knew what was going on. I won’t tell him, but I do need to call him.”

“Fine.” A reluctant Finn handed Stella her phone, then pulled out his gun. “No funny business. Put it on speaker.”

Stella rolled her eyes and called her fiancé. She turned her back on Finn.

“Stella, you were supposed to call me after you finished your shift! I was about to come over there,” the fiancé answered.

Intrigued, Finn listened. It seemed Stella was on a short leash where the fiancé was concerned.

“I’m sorry, hon. Things were a little hectic leaving today.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Derek, I’m fine. But actually, I’m going to have to cancel on tonight. Something’s come up.”

“What? Is Phoebe okay? Can I help?” Derek asked.

Stella glanced over her shoulder at Finn, who quickly glanced away. “Phoebe’s fine. I just…have to go out of town for a few days and I didn’t want you to worry. Actually, I’m taking Phoebe to a spa in Arizona.”

“Arizona? You haven’t said anything about a trip before, babe. You haven’t even taken a day off from work in months.”

“I just need some time to get away and think, okay? Some time to myself.”

“Stella Sunshine, talk to me. What’s really going on? You don’t sound like yourself.” There was a pause. “Is it my mom? Is it me? Is it something I did? Something I
didn’t
do? At least let me come over to see you two off.”

“Derek, no,” Stella said firmly. “I just need a break. Look, I have to go. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Where is this spa? How long are you staying?”

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Love you!” Stella quickly hung up the phone and put it in the pocket of her dirndl.

“Sorry, but I’m going to need that back,” Finn said.

“But I need to call my boss, and Valerie—”

“You can call from the road.” Finn waved the gun. “Give it back.”

Stella scowled and handed over her phone, then eyed the gun pointedly. “I already agreed to help you.”

Finn put the pistol away. “We need to get this show on the road.”

“Well, I’m not going in this!” Stella exclaimed, gesturing at her work uniform. “And I need to pack.”

“Get to it then! We need to be out of here within the hour so we can get a good deal away before we stop for the night.”

Stella rolled her eyes. “Wait here. I’ll go change and throw some stuff in a bag.”

Finn started to reach around for his gun.

Stella held up her hands and wiggled them. “I know, I know. No funny business.”

“These are the best burritos in town,” Billy said as he accepted the foil-wrapped package through the window of the Mi Abuela’s Burritos food truck. He passed it over to Phoebe, who stared at him with a suspicious look on her face. He accepted the second burrito, placed a hand on the small of Phoebe’s back, and steered her away from the truck.

Billy thought the evening was going pretty well so far. Phoebe had been impressed when he picked her up on his motorcycle—he knew she would be, because all girls were—and brought her to an outdoor music festival in the park. It wasn’t his type of music—some electronic shit that sounded like a broken washing machine. He preferred his beats hard and gritty, but Phoebe seemed to enjoy it…or at least she had until Finn’s phone call. Billy unwrapped his burrito and sniffed it.

“You didn’t answer me the first time, so I’m going to ask again. Why does my half sister have your number?” Phoebe stared up at him with a hard look on her face.

Billy took a huge bite of his burrito and took his time chewing so he could think. What excuse could he give her to get that look off her face? At the very least he needed some kind of distraction. He thought the burritos might do it, but Phoebe’s dangled from her fingers, forgotten.

Phoebe crossed her arms. “Did she put you up to babysitting me or something? This is
so
unbelievable.”

“No! Of course not…” Billy trailed off. “She was on a date with my friend Finn. He told her I was out on a date with you. And you know how older siblings are: all in your business and trying to convince you they know best.”

Phoebe frowned. “Not really; Stella wasn’t around when I was growing up. I thought me coming out here would bring us together, but anyway…” She pointed the burrito at Billy’s face. “Stella’s engaged to her über-geek fiancé, Derek. Why would she be out on a date with another guy? And how does your friend know who I am?”