Mama Said (19 page)

“But why wouldn’t he report whatever he knew, especially once he got arrested?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe there was some way he could be implicated,” he huffed. “This is getting too convoluted even for me.”

“We’ve got to find a connection between that case, the cops and the Blues Stop. What if Annie’s death wasn’t so simple as getting on the bad side of one of her drugged out friends? What if she saw something or heard something that got her killed? What if she told Vanessa and that’s why she got attacked? And who is this elusive boyfriend of hers? Is he somehow connected to this mess?” Her brain started to rapid fire. “Did Annie know Tony?”

Shane punched at the pillow beneath his head. “She asked me about a lawyer for a friend of hers a day or two before she went missing.”

“What if her friend was Tony? Or what if she was really asking about herself instead of a friend and went to Vince about what she saw?”

“Vince would have mentioned it.”

“Not if he didn’t know the connection between you and Annie. There’d be no reason for him to do that.”

“More than likely she’d mention the Blues Stop and he’d know then.”

“But what if she didn’t?”

“Why do you think she saw something?”

“Remember when I told you I was in the alley when Mack met up with somebody? Let’s face it. If you and Garrett were as uninvolved as you were initially, they could have done whatever it was they wanted to do. When you started to hang around more, then things became dicey.” She tried to conjure up memories from that night without much success. “And what if Mack thought I’d witnessed the same thing Annie had?”

“That’s a big assumption. Besides, you didn’t see anything.”

“It doesn’t matter if the bad guys think I did. I’ve got to think the note and blood I spotted somehow connect as well.”

“Close your eyes and go through that night minute by minute. Why did you go out back?”

Gabriella tried to relive that night in her head. “I needed some fresh air so I slipped out the back door. Mack was behind the dumpster, so I didn’t see him but heard some people talking.”

“Any words?”

Frustrated, she could only shrug. “Not that I can recall. It was shortly after that I found the note in Spanish and saw the blood. Again, it all might be unrelated. Besides, I can’t remember anything specific, just that Mack was weirded out once he spotted me back there.”

“We need to get to the Blues Stop.” He stretched back in the bed. “That’s where this all started. It’s gotta be connected somehow.”

“And the city ought to be the last place they’d look for us.” While the bad guys were chasing all over Wisconsin, why not hide in plain sight?

“We’ll have to be really careful.” He gave the notes a cursory inspection. “They wouldn’t look for us at the Ryans’ house. At least I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t.”

“So you’re on board with my idea of heading back into trouble?”

“It couldn’t get much worse than it already is, could it?”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

All their plans to return to the city were shattered when Shane woke up with a raging fever. Gabriella knew all too well he had a fever because he had affixed his body to hers and it felt as if his skin were burning her backside. All that cleaning she’d done the day before must have driven the infection deeper inside his body.

She turned around on the bed to face him. “Shane, we’ve got to get you to a doctor.”

He mumbled a ‘no’ and pulled the covers over his shoulder. His body trembled and his teeth chattered.

At this point, however, she figured she didn’t need his permission. That thought lasted about sixty seconds, which was about how long it took her to recognize she couldn’t move him, no matter how much she wanted to.

Instead, she forced some aspirin down him with a glass of water. She got a washcloth from the bathroom and wet it down with temperate water, wringing it out before folding it and placing it on his forehead.

Then she did a lot of pacing. Once again, she was thrown into decision-making mode without her permission. Even in a small town like Beloit, she figured doctors didn’t make house calls. For a wild second or two she contemplated bringing a doctor here at gunpoint. But that was too crazy even for her.

She pulled out the phone book from the nightstand and looked for medical clinics, thinking it best to avoid a hospital. She selected a few clinics, then looked on a map to see where they were located.

Next, she set about the business of giving herself a sore throat by coughing. Which is what she did all the way out the door and to the car and until she landed at the nearest clinic. Then she tried to look sick, even without benefit of a fever, which she couldn’t fake. She’d thought about drinking some hot tea but figured they’d be on to her if she tried that one.

With her hair pulled back and braided and wearing a non-descript t-shirt and jeans, she went inside the clinic, determined to get drugs for Shane. If that didn’t work, she’d have no choice but to do something drastic. She hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Luckily, it didn’t. Two hours later, she had a prescription for penicillin in her hands and was making her way back to the hotel room.

Shane didn’t even open his eyes when she came inside, rehooking the ‘Do Not Disturb’ tag on the door. She immediately gave him the penicillin and soaked all the available towels with water and placed them on his body. He fought her at first, but then, as she layered the blankets over his shaking form, he fell into a fitful sleep.

Knowing she needed to do something and doing it were two different things. At this point, she’d run out of options. Even with Shane at one hundred percent, they couldn’t clear all this up without help.

As she alternated between listening to music from her iPod and then Shane’s, she tried to conjure up a Plan B. Unfortunately, there seemed to be no Plan Bs floating around the universe. Her mind remained a blank.

If she could get back to the Blues Stop, maybe she could get inside and find some evidence, although that seemed like a remote possibility. Surely the bad guys and then the crime lab had scoured the place from top to bottom. But somehow it all connected. Shane’s case, the Blues Stop, what happened to Carissa and more than likely what happened to Annie and Vanessa as well.

But how? She contemplated the idea while the Tommy Castro Band sang in her ears, bringing her a moment of calm.

She eyed her newly purchased pay-as-you-go cell and thought about the only person she knew in Chicago she could trust. Without thinking about it one second longer, she dialed.

“Donna, this is Gabriella.”

“I’ve been so worried. Are you all right? Wait, don’t say anything. Remember that number I told you to call if you couldn’t reach me? Hang up and call it.” Without another word, she hung up.

Gabriella rummaged through her purse before she came up with the alternate number for Donna and keyed it in.

“Gabriella.”

“Do they have a tap on your phone?”

“Not sure, but didn’t want to take any chances.”

“Everything is so crazy lately.” Gabriella tried not to dwell on all that had changed in her life over the last several days, but hearing a friendly voice brought back all the uncertainty and fear.

“Are you with Shane? Is he all right, too?”

She glanced at him. He seemed to be thrashing about a lot less and had even managed to kick off some of the covers. She figured that was probably a good sign.

“Yes.”

“They’re saying he killed Mack, and now they’re talking about some other retired cop he attacked in a Madison hotel. It’s such bull—” She blew out a breath laced with pure disgust. “The police keep coming to my house trying to get me to tell them where you guys are. It isn’t as if I’d tell their sorry asses anything even if I did know.”

The unconditional support from Donna brought tears to Gabriella’s eyes. “Shane didn’t kill Mack. And the cop came there to kill Shane.”

“I figured as much.”

“Oh, God, this whole thing is spiraling out of control.” Her heart sped up as a bout of anxiety riddled along her spine. With supreme effort she forced herself to calm down. One worry at a time. “What are they saying about Mack?”

“That Shane killed him over some kind of mismanagement, which is ridiculous. He’d just fire him. We both know that.” She drew in a breath. “I’ve got some more bad news. Vanessa died. I feel awful because of the kid. I guess it’s good that by the time you got there, the killer had already left.”

When she thought about how close she’d come to getting herself killed over the last couple of days a shiver wormed through her, but she forced it back. She didn’t have time to indulge in fear. “Annie ever mention to you about something going down at the Blues Stop?”

“Like what?”

She chewed on the corner of her lip. “I’m not sure yet. But it’s got to be connected.”

“Not that I can remember.” She was silent for a few seconds before continuing. “I do have some good news, though. Carissa is home from the hospital and fit to be tied about them trying to railroad Shane. She’s been trying to get in touch with Garrett so he can help out with this mess.”

“That is good news. Did she say when he’ll be back?” She desperately needed help, and the elusive Garrett might be the perfect answer.

“So far he hasn’t answered her e-mails, but I’m sure he doesn’t check them every day since he’s in the middle of nowhere. As soon as she hears from him, I’ll give you a call.” She stopped and drew in a breath. “What are you thinking of doing?”

“I’m not sure. There are a couple of cops involved up to their eyeballs in this. I can’t trust that either Shane or I would ever get a fair trial. After I watched them kill Mack, I found Shane with the hell beat out of him in the alley. When we tried to get away, they shot at us. That bartender Stu is a cop.”

“Yeah, he’s a detective. The idiot tried to bully me into saying Shane was a murderer. Got me thinking he’s somehow involved.”

She didn’t want Donna to take a chance, but had no real choice. It was more than clear they needed help from the outside. “How can we prove it?”

“While we’re waiting for Garrett to respond, how about if we pursue Walt Cummings?”

“The former owner of the bar? How the hell could we ever find him?”

“You’re not going to believe this, but he wants to help. Says he knows what’s really going on and wants to talk to Shane. He wrote me a letter. He says he doesn’t trust anybody but Shane ‘because they’re all in on it.’ That’s a direct quote from the letter.”

“Now what?”

“Ask Shane. See what he thinks.”

“Shane’s sick. But he’s taking antibiotics, and I’m sure he’ll be better soon. Give me Walt’s number.”

“Here it is.” She rattled it off. “Now I’m going to burn this letter in case that prick comes snooping around again with a search warrant that he lied to get.”

“Thanks for all your help.”

“Keep in touch. And stay safe.”

“Count on it.”

* * *

By the second dose of penicillin, Shane was coherent enough for them to be able to make the drive into Chicago, despite the fact it was two in the morning. Under his directions, they made their way to the Ryan home in the northern suburb of Lake Forest.

Even in the dark of night, it was impossible not to notice the grandeur of the upper-middle-class neighborhood. In comparison to the other homes they’d traveled past, the Ryans’ home was modest.

Around the home were huge trees and lots of shrubbery, which worked in their favor. The last thing they needed was a nosy neighbor wondering why the Ryans had company at this time of night, especially when they were several thousand miles away.

“How do we get in?”

“Key in the garage door code.” Shane rattled off the number.

Though there was little light, she was pretty sure they were alone. She slipped out of the car and punched in the code.

The garage door opened like a charm. After everything they’d been through in the last few days, she half expected the entire CPD to mow them down in a hail of gunfire. Instead, she gingerly pulled next to a black Volvo sedan, then got out and hit the garage door button at the side to close the door behind them.

“You need to key the code into the alarm.” He pointed to the flashing red box to the right of the door to the house.

She sprinted over and keyed in the numbers he gave her. To her relief, the alarm disengaged with only seconds left on the clock. Next she went back to retrieve Shane and the few belongings they’d accumulated.

“To be safe, we should probably leave the lights out except for the ones on timers.” Shane shuffled inside, still looking like death warmed over.

For a few seconds she wondered if the penicillin prescribed for her was powerful enough. Since he’d mentioned he’d had mega doses in the past, she could only hope he hadn’t built up some kind of resistance. As if she needed that additional complication.

“Do you suppose they have any food?”

“Not sure. They planned on being away for a while, so probably nothing fresh. But Mrs. Ryan usually has a stock of stuff in the freezer and cases of pop and water, usually some beer.”

The thought of food made her stomach rumble. With everything that had gone on, she’d virtually stopped eating. Given all the worrying she’d done and the subsequent running from bad guys, there hadn’t been a whole lot of time left over to do much else.

It was hard to see much of the house with only a sliver of moonlight for light. Feeling her way along a massive hallway, which opened into an equally massive kitchen, she easily found the double door built-in stainless steel refrigerator. Opening the freezer section, she found several cartons of macaroni and cheese and was in heaven.

“I’ll put this on.” She didn’t leave room for him to argue because more than likely he’d say he wasn’t hungry.

Instead of protesting, he sat down at one of the stools around the center island. “Any water in there?”

She opened the refrigerator side, finding two cans of pop but no water. “I’ll look for some later, but these were handy.” When the microwave dinged, she searched until she found the eating utensils and plunked their gourmet feast onto the countertop. “I talked to Donna.”

His fork was midway to his mouth when he stopped and stared. Given the meager light she wasn’t sure if it was more shock or surprise on his face. “What’d she say?”

“First of all, Carissa’s out of the hospital and trying to reach Garrett. She also said Stu’s been hassling her since we left. But she’s also heard from Walt Cummings.”

“I thought that guy was long gone. Maybe, if I don’t end up dead, there’s hope he’ll take his damn bar back.”

“Doubt that. From what I can gather, Walt wasn’t running from creditors. He was running from the same people we are. He desperately wants to talk to you.”

“Do you think it’s a setup?”

“You’d know that better than me.”

Ten seconds later Shane was on the pay-as-you-go cell phone, ignoring the fact that it was the middle of the night. She watched his expression turn from consternation to skepticism when the phone was finally answered.

“Who is this?” Shane asked, putting the phone on speaker. The reception sucked; static and noise blurred most of the sound.

“Who wants to know?”

Without answering him, Shane continued. “You left a message for me.”

“I left a message for a lot of people.” At least that’s what she thought he said. Every other word was missing.

“This is getting me nowhere.” Shane was readying to disconnect the call when Walt spoke again.

“If it’s you Shane, I want to help. They killed her.” He mumbled something else she didn’t catch.

Although she could only hear bits and pieces of what the guy said, it sounded as if he were sobbing on the other end of the line. He was probably drunk. Fat chance Shane would get anything useful from him.

“Killed who?” Shane asked the first question that was on her mind. Drunk or not, with killing in the mix, getting him to spill had to be the number one priority.