Liberty...And Justice for All (14 page)

“My daughter needs good female role models,” she called from the hall. “So stay safe and don’t fuck that up for me.”

Catherine turned to me as I looked around the room one last time. The cheap carpet, the banged up walls, the piles of makeup—it all looked the same, but different. I had been so afraid when I’d worked there, in so many ways. There were so many things waiting for me, and I’d always worried that they were all bad.

But I’d been wrong.

Instead of feeling satisfied by this, I felt…motivated. Motivated by what had happened to Mia, and to Tracy’s boyfriend Jimmy, even though Jimmy was nasty and always had a drug habit.

I was okay now. I’d gotten out. I’d even managed to get Catherine out. Whether or not
she
was okay was another question, one that I could ponder at another time. But for now, I was left with one over-arching need.

“What’re we going to do?” Catherine asked.

“We?” I asked. “Huh?”

“You heard me. You have the stripping expertise, but I’m the one that knows how guys like these operate. You heard Tracy. She said Mia is as good as dead. We have to do something. I can help, Liberty,” Catherine said. “In fact, I might find that cathartic.”

I exhaled deeply and just looked at her.

Her father was going to pinch the bridge of his nose right off.

I
an was calling my cell
. “Hi,” I said.

“Liberty.” The tone in his voice was one I recognized—he had something he didn’t want to tell me.

“What’s the matter,” I said, not bothering to make it a question.

“I’m afraid that we have mail, my dear.”

I ugly-sighed and waited.

“Actually, as it was dropped off without any postage, it doesn’t technically qualify as mail,” he said.

“I’m gonna go out on a ‘limb’ here, ha ha,” I said, “and guess that it was from someone who’s related to me and who hates me. But not Catherine.”

Ian cleared his throat. “It’s a letter. I’ve nicknamed it.”

I laughed a little, picturing Ian naming my hate mail. “And?”

“I call it ‘The Taunt.’ Because that’s exactly what it is. Someone’s obviously upset that you haven’t been paying the necklace case as much attention these past few days.”

“I’m ready,” I said, even though I wasn’t. “Go ahead.”

Dear Liberty,
Ian read.

I know that you met with
family members in pursuit of your missing necklace. I told you not to come looking for it. I told you I would hurt you.

So watch your back. And don’t assume that you’re a welcome part of the family. Your father was a lot of things, but he is not grieved. His wishes are not honored.

You will always be illegitimate, by blood and by claim.

I sat there for a second, staring at a wall, not saying anything.

“Are you okay?” Ian asked, worriedly.

My head was spinning. “I’m not sure,” I mumbled.

“The fact that they had this delivered here—or delivered it themselves—along with its contents has me worried,” Ian said. “In spite of what they’re saying, I think they wanted you to come looking for them. It’s a game to them. I think they want to win by hurting you.”

“Well, they can’t hurt me out here,” I said. “And I have to stay here for now. Matthew’s coming. We have a…guest, I guess you can call her. And I have to help John get this woman back. Without blowing the entire desert up, first.”

“And then?” He asked. “Provided you finish up there and are still in one complete piece?”

“Then I’ll come home. And I’ll find the, ahem,
a-hole
who wrote that letter.”

“You know I’ll help you,” Ian said. “I think they’re an a-hole, too. By the way—Jacob, Sean and Michael checked out everyone’s alibis. They’re legitimate. They found no records of rental cars or flights on the date of the robbery, either.”

“One of my siblings could still be guilty, though,” I said, my mind racing. “They could have driven their own cars out to the house later that night, after they attended their various events. Even Jacoby. It’s fourteen hours, but still.”

“It’s absolutely a possibility. We need to find the guilty party. Soon,” Ian said.

“Let’s find them and scare them
a
lot,” I said.

“It’s a date,” he said. “Now my dear, please be careful out there. I demand that you come home in one piece. We have bad guys to fight.”

“I promise, Ian. I can’t wait. I miss you.”

“Be safe,” he said, “I can’t deal with John if you’re not.”

I
an wasn’t
the only one who was having a hard time dealing with John. “Just tell him that I’m leaving if he doesn’t let me do it,” Catherine said, pacing back and forth, an unlit cigarette stuck in her mouth. She wanted to go outside and smoke it, and then shop some more, but I wasn’t having any of it.

“Oh no,” I said. “
You
are talking to him. Not me. There is no way I’m getting in the middle of this one.”

“This whole stupid trip was your idea,” she hissed. “You dragged me out here. Like John says, everything happens for a reason, so…”

I looked at her, exasperated. “So the reason you’re here is so you can go undercover, get kidnapped by a bunch of drug dealers and then shoot your way out? Because you think it’ll help you close some sort of circle, or something?”’

She stopped pacing and stared at me. “I thought that you, of all people, would understand,” she said. “That’s exactly what John said to you. And you still want to do it.”

She paused for a beat. “At least you won’t be out there, alone. We can help each other.”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked.

“Because I think that I can help. And I’d like to be of some use, for once.”

“No offense—but why start now?” I asked.

“Because I know what these people are like. What they can do to someone. Especially a woman.” She shrugged and lit her cigarette, casually breaking every fire code in existence. “If we can get her out of there, maybe I won’t have to have nine vodkas in order to fall asleep.”

“I didn’t know,” I said.

“What? That I had a conscience?”

“Right,” I said. “I had no idea.”

“Well, I didn’t either,” she said, and took another deep drag. “But for some reason, my gut is telling me to do this. That it’s the right thing.”

“I don’t think you can really trust your gut,” I said, thinking of my half-brother Jacoby, and a myriad of other things.

“Why not,” she said, and shrugged. “I’m still here. That’s more than I can say for a lot of people.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” I said, trailing off.

“Then it’s settled.” She stubbed out the half-smoked cigarette. “Let’s go see John. I’ll even call him Dad, if you don’t fucking smile at me when I do it.”

I wasn’t going to smile. There was no way that was going to happen. John was going to freak out, and by the way my stomach was twisting, I knew that I had a lot to answer for.

C
orey and John
were in the room, looking at a map on a tablet, Shawna’s bedroom door closed tight.

“How’s she doing?” I asked, motioning towards the door.

“She’s fine,” John said. “I just don’t know what I can use her for. She won’t talk, and nobody wants her back badly enough that I can trade her.”

“She knows about the Freemans,” I said. “She knows where they are, who their contacts are that they send into the club, and also the other girls who’re still working with them. But I can’t get her to talk, either. Should we, uh…” I looked at Corey’s gun, sitting on the table. “You know…threaten her?”

John raised his eyebrows and just looked at me. “We can.”

I shrugged. “Let’s do it.” I grabbed the gun.

John looked like he was about to pinch the bridge of his nose when there was a knock at the door. Corey got up and opened it; Matthew lumbered in, a huge duffel bag thrown over his shoulder, his bicep bulging. He looked at me and frowned.

“Why’s Liberty holding a gun?” He asked. “That’s never a good sign. What’d you do, bro?” he asked, looking at John.

John snorted but he smiled at him. “I’m glad you’re here.” He jerked his thumb at me. “We were just about to start threatening our hostage.”

“We have a hostage?” Matthew asked. He looked pleased at the thought.

I shrugged. “She’s kind of just a captive. We can’t really use her for anything.”

Matthew and John just looked at each other for a beat. “I think your wife’s been hanging out with you too much,” Matthew said, and laughed.

“It appears so,” John said. He turned to me. “You want to let Matthew work his charms on poor Shawna before you go in there and shoot her?”

“If you think it’ll work, sure,” I said, putting the gun back down carefully on the table. Corey and Matthew started talking to each other immediately, catching up on the status of things, who Shawna was and what we might use her for.

That left me, Catherine and John, alone with the immense amount of guilt I was carrying.

Catherine went closer to him and he looked up at her. “Dad.”

He raised his eyebrows at that. “What,” he said, warily.

“Liberty and I were talking,” she continued, looking at him for once, instead of at her cuticles. “We’ve decided that, in order to move things along, we’re going to the club. Undercover. Tonight. We’re going to see if Shawna can give us any more information before that, so we can target our interactions. Any luck, we’ll be on our way to the dealers compound tonight, as new recruits.”

“They’re not going to take you back
tonight
,” John said, practically spitting out the words. “They’re not stupid, Catherine. They’re going to want to screen you, to see if you can be trusted.”

“Not if they want to sleep with us, they won’t,” Catherine said, not missing a beat as John flinched.

He turned to me. “So now the plan is for my wife
and
my daughter to try to have one-night stands with heavily-armed drug dealers? And rescue Mia from their stronghold out in the middle of the desert? And come back alive—without getting raped, beaten or shot?”

He looked from me to her, her to me.

“Are you two fucking kidding me?”

I took a deep breath. “Actually, no. We’re not kidding. And as much as I’m against Catherine coming with me, she has a point—she’s been in this type of situation before. She can help.” I felt a stab in my heart as I watched John’s face—he didn’t have to say a word, I knew him so well. I was betraying him, hurting him again.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s just that if we move now, maybe they won’t expect us. And if Catherine and I pretend that all we want to do is party with the big boys—people will believe it, John.”

“
Gangbanger
has more than one meaning, dad,” Catherine said. He winced again. “It’s first definition is being a member of a gang; its second is a groupie for bad guys. People get that. It’s a thing.” She looked at me, a questioning look on her face. “Or it will be. Once we get through with it.”

John broke down and pinched the bridge of his nose then. I couldn’t blame him.

“I’m not down here so that I can pimp my wife and daughter out and put them in danger. That is the opposite of what I want. I will put this company out of business before I let either one of you ever get hurt again.” He stood up. “Guys, let’s go. I’m done with this.”

“Babe,” I said, standing up. “Give me one more minute. Alone.” I grabbed his arm and led him to our room. He didn’t say a word and he wouldn’t look at me, which hurt my heart more than I could even process.

“I’m sorry,” I said, as the door closed behind us.

“You should be,” he said, almost viciously. I winced. I’d never heard that tone from him before.

“It was
her
idea, John—”

“Of course it was,” he interrupted me. “She’s fucking crazy, Liberty. I need you to reign her in. Not lead her on with these wild plans. You’ll both get killed. Do you think I could live with that?” His blue eyes rose to meet mine, and I could see the pain in them. The anger.

His jaw was clenched and he ran his hands through his thick hair, making it wild. “You started this. Now I want you to back down. You know I can’t let you go. And I can’t let Catherine go with you.”

“You’re the one who asked me to help her,” I said. “Catherine wants to do this, John. She wants to save Mia.”

“Why are you doing this to me?” John asked, his eyes flashing.

“I’m not doing it to you—I’m doing it
for
you,” I said, breathing hard. “Having her work with us was your idea. Not mine.”

We stood staring at each other for a second, anger rolling off both of us.

“I understand what you’re saying—of course I do,” I said. “But I still think it’s better to send us in there than starting a war with the cartel. Do you know how many people are going to die that way?”

“I don’t care.” John just looked at me. “Do you understand? I could give a fuck. The only people I care about are you and Catherine. Anyone who gets in the way of keeping you safe is going to get shot. I won’t even think about it twice.”

“What about what
I
care about?” I asked. “I don’t want you and Corey and Matthew taking on an entire crew of dealers, outfitted with machine guns. Not again. Do
you
understand?”

John shook his head at me. “We’ll just have to come bail you out, if you get stuck there. Which you will. And we’ll just have to shoot a shitload of people then.”

We were still facing each other, both of our arms crossed over our chests, a veritable standoff.

“I don’t like your tone, John,” I said. I felt, for the first time in our marriage, irretrievably angry at him. I was shaking, I was so mad. “I think I’ve proven that I’m better at this than either one of us thought. I’ve come a long way since that abandoned building with Ray. I’m not afraid anymore.”

He winced when I said Ray’s name. He looked as if he might actually cry. “Are you trying to break me?” He asked.

That was it. That undid me.

“No, babe. No,” I said, and I threw myself at him. He stood against me, stiffly, but I grabbed his arms and pulled them around me. I buried my face in his chest. “I’m sorry,” I said.

He pushed me away.

I felt the world tilt underneath me; John had never rejected me before, never pulled back. “Please don’t do that.” I looked at him, wild-eyed.

“I can’t do this,” he said. “I can’t be your
parent
, Liberty. I shouldn’t have to tell you what’s right and what’s wrong.”

That was like an ice pick in my heart—but at the same time, beneath that pain and my lurking tears, I felt anger rise up. I was
really
pissed, like I used to get at Sasha sometimes. A special level of hurt reserved for only those closest to me.

“I don’t need you to be my parent,” I hissed. Now the tears coming were bubbling right below the surface, hot and angry. I wiped my eyes roughly. “For your information, I
need
you to be my husband. Which is what I thought we were doing. Trying to work out a problem, like adults.”

“You haven’t been acting like an adult,” John said.

That stopped my tears cold. I felt like he had slapped me. “I’m here to help you. You blindly rejecting that help is treating me like a child. And you have a child already. That’s how you’re treating her, too—and how’s that working out for you? I don’t see you learning your lesson here, John.”

Pain crossed his face and I wished that I could sew my mouth shut, so I never said horrible things to my husband ever again.