Trouble in Miami (Trouble, Tennessee 4)

Gabe remained quiet. He hadn’t said much of anything since they’d left the airport. In some ways, Bradley wished his future brother-in-law would just haul off and bless him out.

The clickety-click of a text message being typed resounded. After it stopped, Bradley glanced over his shoulder. “Who was it?”

“It was an outgoing only,” Gabe replied, his voice deathly calm. “I sent a message to Heather’s phone.”

“You know she won’t receive it.” Ryan pointed out the obvious. He adjusted the rearview mirror in an apparent effort to watch Gabe then.

“It wasn’t for her.” Gabe blew out a clearly tortured breath. “I offered to trade myself for Heather and explained that many of you would do the same.”

“At least you didn’t threaten him,” Bradley said, thinking it wasn’t the time to start throwing out warnings. Until they knew precisely what the women’s captor wanted they didn’t need to rattle him.

“Did I say that? No.” Gabe grunted. “Damn right I threatened him. I told him those women are loved. They have families and responsibilities. And I told him if one hair on one of their pretty little heads is so much as brushed out of place, he will answer to me and a small army behind me.”

“Super,” Ryan said tightly, gripping the steering wheel with both hands and glaring straight ahead.

“Next time, if you don’t mind, discuss what you want to say before you send a message out.” Bradley couldn’t imagine anything worse unless one of them made the situation more difficult for their women.

“Actually, I do mind, Bradley,” Gabe said. “And while I’m at it, I’ll throw this out there. I never supported the nonsense of sending the women ahead of us. That was Allister’s bright idea which means the three of you likely voted right along with him. Next time you guys have a notion like this, leave Heather out of it.”

Bradley grimaced. “Let’s hope there is a next time.”

* * * *

The droning sound of a busy expressway was driving Allister mad. “This isn’t helping.”

“I agree,” Draegan said. “But what else can we do?”

Markie appeared between them. His gaze continually darted from one car to another. “Maybe we could—” He stopped abruptly and pointed up at a billboard. “There. Look.”

“What are you talking about?” Draegan asked, looking up.

“Back of the House!” Markie squealed excitedly, shaking his finger at the sign. “Hurry, Allister. Get in the right lane.”

“What does a biker bar have to do with anything?” Allister asked, speeding up anyway.

Markie yanked his phone from the seat and started typing. “Just go. It’s worth a shot. I have a plan.”

“I don’t think it’s a good one,” Allister muttered. A biker bar wouldn’t be a logical stop for someone like Seth.

“When I was at the airport, I harassed those kids for dope. I don’t know why. It didn’t make sense to me. I was just pissed because all of you—”

“Get to the point, Markie,” Draegan said, clearly impatient.

“The dudes mentioned Back of the House. It may be a long shot but the way they talked about the place, they’d been there before. If they headed there soon after they landed, maybe we can find them and see if they can hook us up with the kind of locals who can help.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard,” Draegan said.

Allister sped up a ramp and took a sharp left. “It may be ridiculous but with nothing else to go on right at the moment, I’ll side with ridiculous. It beats the hell out of nothing.”

A few minutes later, they pulled in a grocery store parking lot and met the others. Markie quickly told everyone his plan. The sum of it was to find the potheads he’d met in the airport restroom and ask them to introduce them to the ring leader around there, the one pushing the dope. If the dealer was well connected, he might know where and how to direct them.

As they were talking, Allister’s phone rang. Markie, always one to love the spotlight, waved his hand. “Walk away, hon. I’m in the middle of something here.”

“It’s a blocked call!” Allister raised his voice and his arm, showcasing his phone.

Draegan and Mac rushed him. Several of the others were on their phones texting then, apparently letting Bane know they had a possible incoming worth mentioning.

“Mr. McCall?”