Take the Heat

He threw back his head and laughed. “I don’t think you are telling me the truth, but we have another problem. Upon closer examination, it appears a bruise is forming on my temple.” He bobbed his head to the mirror.

I could see a small dark red circle above his left eyebrow. I thought it was just a scratch, but I didn’t think blowing off a prisoner’s potential head injury would be great for my career.

“Perhaps you could check my forehead? Make sure I am not more seriously injured?” he suggested.

I froze. No way was I going to open the cage and check his face out myself. That sounded like a one-way ticket to being shot in the gut and left in a ditch. Truthfully, I wanted to dump his ass on the front lawn of McCreary and get the hell back home. Not an option though. “Yeah, I only have basic first-aid training, but I will get a professional to clear you.” I called the state patrol once more and told them to send an ambulance as well.

And then I saw the headlights of an oncoming vehicle.

Moving fast, headed straight for us. No time to get away. A van slammed into the passenger side, throwing Royal and I into the windows and steamrollering the car fifty yards down the road in a shower of sparks and burned rubber. Two men dressed all in black with ski masks over their faces sprang from the van, moving toward the car with purpose.

“Oh shit!” Not. An. Accident.

I grabbed for my Glock and rolled my window down so they could hear me. “I am a United States deputy marshal. Keep your distance from the vehicle and put your weapons down!” I shouted. They both brandished sawed-off shotguns. Not a fair fight.

“They are here for you, aren’t they?” I never took my eyes off the men.

I could almost hear his smile. “Why, yes, they are.”

Thought as much. “Tell me, is this the execution squad or the welcome wagon?”

“I believe these gentlemen are friends of mine from the days prior to my unfortunate incarceration.”

The men kept approaching, and they aimed at me. “That thing might as well be a peashooter,” the tallest said. “We could blow a hole in you from here.”

He was right. They would open fire, and I would just be a red mess in the front seat. “Yeah, but then you might hit your friend here. We’d both be decorating the seats.”

“Enough,” Royal said, exasperated. “No one is getting shot. Ms. Blake here has no doubt determined that putting up a fight would lead to her demise. Since she is a smart woman, she is going to throw down her weapon.” I stared at him, and I could swear I saw a pleading look in his eyes. “Why don’t you toss your weapon out the window, and these good gentlemen will collect it for you. That way everyone gets to live.”

“Everyone?” I hesitated.

“I swear to you. Everyone is going to survive this.”

I gritted my teeth, tried my best to hide the fear clawing at my insides. I must be crazy, because I believed him. The gun felt good in my hands, like a steel safety blanket. But I was smart enough to know when to part with it. With a curse I chucked it out onto the pavement. “You are taking me hostage instead of killing me. Smart.”

Royal had been selling guns and running drugs for nearly five years when he’d gotten picked up in a RICO investigation. He’d been the president of Kentucky’s Four Horsemen chapter, part of a national outlaw biker gang. Someone with that kind of power and influence had a good head on his shoulders. Killing a federal agent would bring a lot of unwanted heat. Using me as a bargaining tool would give him a lot of options.

“Don’t be so negative, Ms. Blake. Hostage is such an ugly word. You will be my guest.”

“Look, you can call me a guest or, hell, your date if you want to, but keep in mind that kidnapping is still a felony and you’ve already racked up quite a few of those. Extortion. Illegal arms sales. Murder. Assault. Racketeering. ”

The van drivers yanked open my car door and dragged me out of the vehicle, dumping me on the chilly blacktop. I let my body go limp, not impeding their progress but not helping either. I didn’t fight or give them a reason to rough me up.

Be cool. Calm. I took long, deep breaths.

They reached for my belt and removed the keys hooked to it. The short one fastened my own handcuffs around my wrists. The tall one went to the sedan, unlocked the rear door, then released Royal from his restraints. They hauled me to my feet and escorted both of us to the vehicle.

Royal reached across the backseat and laid a hand on my cheek, smoothing it. “Are you okay, Ivy?”

“Just ducky.” I notched my chin higher, a little bit of a fuck you in my demeanor. Truthfully? I was scared spitless, but I’d be damned if I’d admit to it.

He laughed. “I admire your fortitude. You are a very brave woman, but then you would have to be to pursue this line of work.”

“Yeah, right about now I’m wishing I would have followed my mom’s footsteps instead of my father’s and become a preschool teacher.”

Royal’s goons put the pedal to the metal, and we screeched away from the crash scene. My mind raced, but eventually my training kicked in. I noted our direction and the passing mile markers. And anything else that might be helpful to investigators.

Royal withdrew a leather pouch from a compartment in the car and removed a vial and needle from it. I inched closer to my window, but there was nowhere to go in the confined space. He patiently loaded the needle, then flicked it with his thumb to remove any air bubbles.