Surviving Ice
Page 74
FORTY-THREE
IVY
“Yeah. That’s the scar.”
“You sure?” Detective Fields hovers over my shoulder, his musky cologne the only appealing thing in this place. I was on edge the moment I stepped into the precinct, part of me anxious to turn around and run out, the other part excited to finally nail someone to the wall for what they did to Ned.
“I’m positive.” Now that it’s come back to me, I remember it well. I even drew a sketch of it that I hold up next to the computer monitor. The guy’s hand is blown up and, though pixelated, I can still see the shape of it clearly.
“They’re identical,” he agrees. “That’s . . . crazy how accurate that is.”
“Are we done here?” I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this long-drawn-out process to get to this place. Still, I feel lighter than when I stepped in here. I was afraid that Sebastian was right, and nothing would come of this. That Ned’s killers are long gone.
“For now. We’ll put APBs out on these guys and bring them in for a lineup. You’ll need to come back in to positively ID them.”
“You have my number.” I collect my purse and stand to leave. “How’d you find them¸ anyway?”
Fields thumps a handful of folders against his desk to tidy the papers tucked inside. “While I had some of my guys looking into our main angle with the bikers, I thought I’d check out some less likely ones. Just to close the loop. That’s what I like to do. So I started looking into Dylan Royce as the potential prime target instead of your uncle. He was an ex-Marine with an impressive record and the know-how to defend himself. I figured whoever took him out had to know what they were doing, gun or not. Made me think that they knew each other, so I started digging into his Marine Corps buddies.”
“These two guys were Marines?” An unsettling feeling begins to stir within me. There has been an unusual influx of military guys in my life lately. One in particular.
“Ex. Now they’re working for a private security company.”
A private security company.
Like Sebastian.
“I’ve already told you more than I should. Keep it to yourself, okay?” He leads me down the hall, toward the main entrance, files tucked under his arm. “How are repairs going at your house, anyway?”
“Almost ready for paint,” I answer, though I’m not really listening anymore, my mind racing. You’re not stupid, Ivy.
Sebastian walking into your shop wasn’t a coincidence, Ivy.
I don’t want to listen to my conscience, but I can’t seem to drown it out anymore, either.
Be smart, Ivy. He’s not really a bodyguard, is he . . .
Fields’s voice finally overpowers my dark worries. “. . . I know this is a bit of a shock to your system. Do you have someone picking you up?”
“My . . .” What is he? “. . . Friend. You know him.”
He scans the case folder still tucked under his arm. “Gregory. Or Greg? Yeah.”
What? “No. Sebastian.”
He frowns. “Then, no. Don’t know him. I only met the guy at the house the night of the robbery. Anyway, let me know if you need anything, and keep your phone close to you because I’m going to call as soon as we’ve picked up these guys,” he throws over his shoulder, already on his way back to work.
He leaves me standing inside the front doors.
Sebastian gave the cops a fake name. Or is Sebastian the fake name?
No, his parents called him Sebastian.
I shake my head. I think I’ve reached my limit with that guy for today. The last thing I want to do is see him right now. Let him run his errands. He can come find me and explain shit when he’s done. And if he doesn’t want to explain?
I’m done.
Even as I tell myself that, I know I’m lying. All he has to do is tell me the truth and I’ll accept it, I’m sure of it.
But I am going to make him work for it. At least a bit.
I push through the glass doors, intent on defying Sebastian and hailing a cab to Black Rabbit. I’m almost at the sidewalk before I see Bobby’s hairy face. My feet falter. “What are you doing here?” Besides Sebastian, he’s the last person I want to talk to right now, given how I saw—and heard—way too much of him only hours ago.
“I need you to come with me.”
“What?” I snort. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He heaves a sigh, like he was expecting this. “Your guy asked me to come get you.”
Okay, now I know he’s full of shit. “No, he didn’t. He doesn’t trust you.”
“Well, I guess he trusts me enough right now.”
I grab my phone and quickly hit Dial on Sebastian’s number. It goes to automated voice mail. I can’t even leave a message. It’s been turned off.
What the hell is going on? Sebastian expected me to call when I was finished so he could pick me up, so why is his phone now off? Did these guys do something to him? Did they finally get even for him embarrassing them so badly?
Bobby’s heavy boots scrape against the concrete as he closes the distance. All calm, like he’s approaching a wild animal, and an edge of unease settles in. I glance around. A few people mill about. There are security cameras in front of the precinct, pointing down this way. Are they too far?
“Don’t make this hard, Ivy.” Bobby reaches out and grabs my puny biceps. I can’t break free.
He opens the door to the pickup truck. Carl’s behind the wheel.
“I’m going to scream.” This is an obvious abduction. Why is no one doing anything?
Bobby’s hand slaps over my mouth in answer, and then his large arm ropes around me, pinning my arms down. I squirm and kick, and sink my teeth into his fingers, but it’s to no avail. In no time I’m lifted and stuffed into the middle of the truck. Bobby slams the door shut, and the truck is roaring to life and heading down the street.
“Did you have to bite me? Fuck!” Bobby yells. “I’m bleeding!”
I open my mouth to let out an ear-piercing scream, when a familiar gruff voice from behind steals my breath.
“Ivy, Jesus! We’re not going to hurt you!” Moe sits in the extended cab. He reaches over the seat to cuff Bobby in the head. “What the hell did you say to her?”
“Nothin’! I told you she was gonna be a pain in the ass.” To me, he demands, “Gimme your phone.”
“No.”
He snatches my purse out of my hand and roots around until he’s found it. Rolling down the window, he tosses it out.
“Why the hell did you do that?” I yell.
“So no one can find you.”
My stomach does a complete flip.
“Oh, relax. Here.” He opens a basic flip phone and, pressing Redial, hands it to me.
Sebastian answers on the third ring.
“What is going on?” I can hear an engine in the background. He must be on the road.
“You’re with Bobby? Everything okay?”
I look at Bobby’s hand, at the marks sunk into his fingers. The sensation of biting into his soft flesh is still fresh on my teeth, making my mouth water in disgust. “Yes.”
“Did you ID the guys?”
IVY
“Yeah. That’s the scar.”
“You sure?” Detective Fields hovers over my shoulder, his musky cologne the only appealing thing in this place. I was on edge the moment I stepped into the precinct, part of me anxious to turn around and run out, the other part excited to finally nail someone to the wall for what they did to Ned.
“I’m positive.” Now that it’s come back to me, I remember it well. I even drew a sketch of it that I hold up next to the computer monitor. The guy’s hand is blown up and, though pixelated, I can still see the shape of it clearly.
“They’re identical,” he agrees. “That’s . . . crazy how accurate that is.”
“Are we done here?” I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this long-drawn-out process to get to this place. Still, I feel lighter than when I stepped in here. I was afraid that Sebastian was right, and nothing would come of this. That Ned’s killers are long gone.
“For now. We’ll put APBs out on these guys and bring them in for a lineup. You’ll need to come back in to positively ID them.”
“You have my number.” I collect my purse and stand to leave. “How’d you find them¸ anyway?”
Fields thumps a handful of folders against his desk to tidy the papers tucked inside. “While I had some of my guys looking into our main angle with the bikers, I thought I’d check out some less likely ones. Just to close the loop. That’s what I like to do. So I started looking into Dylan Royce as the potential prime target instead of your uncle. He was an ex-Marine with an impressive record and the know-how to defend himself. I figured whoever took him out had to know what they were doing, gun or not. Made me think that they knew each other, so I started digging into his Marine Corps buddies.”
“These two guys were Marines?” An unsettling feeling begins to stir within me. There has been an unusual influx of military guys in my life lately. One in particular.
“Ex. Now they’re working for a private security company.”
A private security company.
Like Sebastian.
“I’ve already told you more than I should. Keep it to yourself, okay?” He leads me down the hall, toward the main entrance, files tucked under his arm. “How are repairs going at your house, anyway?”
“Almost ready for paint,” I answer, though I’m not really listening anymore, my mind racing. You’re not stupid, Ivy.
Sebastian walking into your shop wasn’t a coincidence, Ivy.
I don’t want to listen to my conscience, but I can’t seem to drown it out anymore, either.
Be smart, Ivy. He’s not really a bodyguard, is he . . .
Fields’s voice finally overpowers my dark worries. “. . . I know this is a bit of a shock to your system. Do you have someone picking you up?”
“My . . .” What is he? “. . . Friend. You know him.”
He scans the case folder still tucked under his arm. “Gregory. Or Greg? Yeah.”
What? “No. Sebastian.”
He frowns. “Then, no. Don’t know him. I only met the guy at the house the night of the robbery. Anyway, let me know if you need anything, and keep your phone close to you because I’m going to call as soon as we’ve picked up these guys,” he throws over his shoulder, already on his way back to work.
He leaves me standing inside the front doors.
Sebastian gave the cops a fake name. Or is Sebastian the fake name?
No, his parents called him Sebastian.
I shake my head. I think I’ve reached my limit with that guy for today. The last thing I want to do is see him right now. Let him run his errands. He can come find me and explain shit when he’s done. And if he doesn’t want to explain?
I’m done.
Even as I tell myself that, I know I’m lying. All he has to do is tell me the truth and I’ll accept it, I’m sure of it.
But I am going to make him work for it. At least a bit.
I push through the glass doors, intent on defying Sebastian and hailing a cab to Black Rabbit. I’m almost at the sidewalk before I see Bobby’s hairy face. My feet falter. “What are you doing here?” Besides Sebastian, he’s the last person I want to talk to right now, given how I saw—and heard—way too much of him only hours ago.
“I need you to come with me.”
“What?” I snort. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He heaves a sigh, like he was expecting this. “Your guy asked me to come get you.”
Okay, now I know he’s full of shit. “No, he didn’t. He doesn’t trust you.”
“Well, I guess he trusts me enough right now.”
I grab my phone and quickly hit Dial on Sebastian’s number. It goes to automated voice mail. I can’t even leave a message. It’s been turned off.
What the hell is going on? Sebastian expected me to call when I was finished so he could pick me up, so why is his phone now off? Did these guys do something to him? Did they finally get even for him embarrassing them so badly?
Bobby’s heavy boots scrape against the concrete as he closes the distance. All calm, like he’s approaching a wild animal, and an edge of unease settles in. I glance around. A few people mill about. There are security cameras in front of the precinct, pointing down this way. Are they too far?
“Don’t make this hard, Ivy.” Bobby reaches out and grabs my puny biceps. I can’t break free.
He opens the door to the pickup truck. Carl’s behind the wheel.
“I’m going to scream.” This is an obvious abduction. Why is no one doing anything?
Bobby’s hand slaps over my mouth in answer, and then his large arm ropes around me, pinning my arms down. I squirm and kick, and sink my teeth into his fingers, but it’s to no avail. In no time I’m lifted and stuffed into the middle of the truck. Bobby slams the door shut, and the truck is roaring to life and heading down the street.
“Did you have to bite me? Fuck!” Bobby yells. “I’m bleeding!”
I open my mouth to let out an ear-piercing scream, when a familiar gruff voice from behind steals my breath.
“Ivy, Jesus! We’re not going to hurt you!” Moe sits in the extended cab. He reaches over the seat to cuff Bobby in the head. “What the hell did you say to her?”
“Nothin’! I told you she was gonna be a pain in the ass.” To me, he demands, “Gimme your phone.”
“No.”
He snatches my purse out of my hand and roots around until he’s found it. Rolling down the window, he tosses it out.
“Why the hell did you do that?” I yell.
“So no one can find you.”
My stomach does a complete flip.
“Oh, relax. Here.” He opens a basic flip phone and, pressing Redial, hands it to me.
Sebastian answers on the third ring.
“What is going on?” I can hear an engine in the background. He must be on the road.
“You’re with Bobby? Everything okay?”
I look at Bobby’s hand, at the marks sunk into his fingers. The sensation of biting into his soft flesh is still fresh on my teeth, making my mouth water in disgust. “Yes.”
“Did you ID the guys?”
