At least, she hoped, until Hunter came.
~*~
Traffic on I-95 was heavy and slow, and Hunter squirmed in the driver’s seat. Andre said, “If you twist any harder on that steering wheel, you’ll be holding two pieces.”
“I’m worried.”
“I know, and as soon as we get a little closer,” He tapped the GPS navigation screen on the dash, “I’ll show you some shortcuts that even Garmin here doesn’t know.”
She tapped on her phone, saying, “I think I’ll ask for a little help on this one.” She told the phone to dial John Quick’s number. When he answered, she explained the situation and, just like she knew he would, John said that he and Randall were headed that way. He only asked one question: what Ariel looked like. Hunter said, “Look for Rihanna.”
~*~
John and Randall parked at the back of an apartment complex on New Hampshire Street. As soon as they exited the sedan, a sour-faced man with a week-old growth of white whiskers stuck his head out of a second floor window above them and yelled, “You bastards get that car the hell out of here! This is private property!”
John showed him his badge, “There’s a woman in trouble on the beach.”
He said, “I don’t give a good goddamn if she’s being murdered!” Get that car out of here!”
Randall reached in the car, turned on the blue light and put it on the dash. He looked up at the angry man and said, “Have a nice day.” The man’s face flushed and he shook his fist at Randall, who grinned and waved as he and John trotted down the street to an alley that separated two apartment complexes and the opening went all the way through to the beach area.
The two detectives passed through and stood on the boardwalk, but saw no sign of Ariel. John said, “You go right I’ll go left.” Randall nodded, moving off the hard surface of the boardwalk to the sand so he could see people both on the beach and on the boardwalk. John stayed on the boardwalk.
Five minutes later, he saw three large black men escorting a scared-looking young woman from a restaurant. The men on each side of her held her arm at the bicep. The third man walked in front, not looking back. The woman turned her head as if looking for help. She looked exactly like Rihanna.
John made a quick call on his phone as he looked down the boardwalk for Randall. There was no one within fifty yards of his position. John spoke into the phone, “Come running.” He pocketed the phone and approached the group from behind, “Hey, I need a word with the lady.”
The three men stopped, and the one who led the group came back to face John. He was taller and heavier than John by three inches and probably forty pounds. He wasn’t fat, either. He said, “She’s going with us.”
“No, no she’s not.” He showed them his badge. “She’s my C.I., and that’s Confidential Informant in case you didn’t know. I’m taking her with me.” He reached to remove one of the men’s hands from Ariel’s arm.
The big man slapped his arm away. John said, “You don’t want to do that.” He reached again, and when the big man slapped at his arm, John grabbed his wrist and twisted while grasping the man’s shirtfront with the other and dropping to one knee, slamming the man’s back onto the hard boardwalk. The big man looked stunned, and when John glanced at the other two, Randall was there, pistol out and pointed at their faces as he showed them his shield. John patted the big man’s chest and said, “Take your time getting up.”
The big man cradled his wrist, his eyes bright with pain. “You hurt me.”
John ignored him and said, “Ariel, we’re friends of Agent Kincaid. How about coming with us?”
She stepped from between the two other men and said, “Thank you.”
Randall told the other two men, “We’re not arresting you three today. Next time, though, you see us comin’, just assume the position. Have a nice day.”
An older couple some forty yards down the boardwalk watched, then the man gave John and Randall a thumbs up.
Ariel didn’t say anything, but she felt a pull to Randall, like a magnet to iron. There is something about this one, she thought.
As they walked toward their vehicle, John said to Randall, “What’s with all this, ‘have a nice day’ stuff lately?”
Randall said, “I’m spreading a little sunshine among the populace.”
“Huh.”
As they exited the alley and turned toward their vehicle, John saw the old man standing by it, still ranting. He said, “Doesn’t look like your ‘have a nice day’ worked on that one.”
The old man saw them and waited as if he wanted to fight. When they were five feet from him, Ariel stepped ahead of the two detectives and touched the man’s arm. She said, “I am sorry for your loss.”
He blinked at her, then glanced at John and Randall, seeming confused. He said to Ariel, “You knew her?”
She left her hand on his forearm, “I feel her near you. She loves you and will always be close.”