Hot Mess 5 (The Stormy Glenn ManLove Collection) Page 7

  Chapter Eight

  Lany

  I couldn’t catch my breath.

  Fear.

  Panic.

  Running for my life.

  The damn elevator doors wouldn’t open. I slammed my fingers down on the button to call down the elevator as rapidly as I could, glancing back toward the fire fight then at the elevator then the firefight.

  It was a vicious circle.

  “Oh crap!”

  One of the gunmen was working his way around the cab. It looked as if he was trying to come up on Sal’s blind side.

  “To the right, Sal,” I shouted as loud as I could. “To the right. The other side of the cab.”

  Sal turned without acknowledging that I had said anything and started shooting. I was pretty sure the guy who had been trying to sneak up on Sal didn’t like that I gave his position away.

  The big clue was when he started shooting at me.

  I screamed and ran for the nearest car, dropping down behind it.

  I rolled my eyes when the elevator doors slid open and then slid closed.

  Figures.

  I crept around the side of the car I was hiding behind and then darted to the next car. I had a serious aversion to being shot at. If I could find another place to hide, that would be great. I knew it would also make Sal feel better. He could concentrate on shooting these guys instead of worrying about me.

  I cringed when I heard several bullets hit the car. These guys were serious. I just couldn’t figure out if they were after me or Sal. Under normal circumstances, I never would have even questioned it, but Sal had said upstairs that this wasn’t my fault. Well, the last time there had been gunfire it hadn’t been my fault.

  Geez, was that just this afternoon?

  I swallowed tightly when the gunfire stopped as suddenly as it had started. I waited to hear something, anything. When silence continued to hang over the air, I peeked up over the hood of the car between me and the others.

  “No!” I screamed as I jumped to my feet and started running around the end of the car. “No! No! No!”

  They were dragging Sal into the cab. The man wasn’t resisting. He wasn’t even holding his head up. They pushed Sal into the back of the car and started to climb in. The guy at the front of the car turned and aimed his gun at me. I had just enough time to dive out of the way before the bullets slammed into the cement where I had been running.

  I climbed to my feet just as the cab went flying past me. I had the briefest glimpse of Sal’s face as they drove away, but it was enough time to tell his eyes were closed. Tears welled up in my eyes as the cab disappeared around the corner and then the sound of the engine faded away, leaving me with nothing.

  No sound.

  No escape.

  No Sal.

  I walked over and picked the gun off the ground. It was Sal’s. I’d know it anywhere. It was a Desert Eagle, the only thing he carried for his personal gun. After checking the magazine and finding it empty, I tucked the gun into my waistband. Sal would have a fit if he saw me do that, and he could damn well take me to task about it when he came home.

  I wiped the tears from my eyes and then pulled out my cell phone. I had to blink several times before I could dial. No matter how much I wiped at the tears in my eyes, they kept coming falling to splash down on my cheeks.

  It took more time than it should have for me to dial Clarke, but there was nothing I could do about that. Still, I almost sobbed when I heard the man’s sleepy voice.

  “Clarke?”

  “Lany?”

  “They took him, Clarke. They took my Sal.”

  I leaned back against the wall where Sal and I had been standing not more than ten minutes ago. I slowly slid down until I was sitting and then grabbed for the blanket I had dropped, pulling it close to me.

  “They took my Sal,” I whispered as my heart broke in two.

  “Holy hell, where are you, Lany? I’m coming now. Tell me where you are.”

  “I’m still at the courthouse, downstairs in the parking garage.”

  “Are you safe?”

  I glanced around, not surprised to see the bullet shells littering the ground or the holes in the walls and vehicles surrounding me. They were usually a by-product of a gunfight.

  “Yeah, I’m safe.”

  I was also alone. I didn’t like being alone. I always had the girls with me or Marcus. And Sal seemed to always know when I needed him.

  This time, Sal needed me.

  “Just hurry, Clarke,” I said before hanging up.

  I pushed myself to my feet. After wrapping the blanket around my shoulders to ward off the chill—something I didn’t think would happen until I was back in Sal’s arms—I began walking around, examining every inch of concrete.

  I made sure not to disturb anything or step anywhere my footprints might mess up evidence. It didn’t take me long to find a few spots of blood. I was heartened by the fact that none of the blood came from where Sal had been standing.

  But there was a funny-looking little feathered dart thing lying on the ground. It took all of my self-control not to pick it up and try to figure out what it was. My need to find clues to who had taken Sal was greater than my curiosity, but not by much.

  By the time Clarke’s SUV screeched to a halt, I was back to sitting on the cold cement floor, my back to the wall. I stood as the man jumped out of his vehicle and raced over to me.

  You could have knocked me over with that feathered dart when Clarke hugged me. The man was not usually given to displays of emotion, especially with me. He didn’t hate me or anything, but I always kind of felt as if Clarke thought I was a brainless dweeb with no real purpose on earth except to get into trouble.

  “I didn’t think I would get here in time,” Clarke said as he hugged me.

  “I told you I was okay.”

  Clarke leaned back and just stared at me.

  I rolled my eyes, because yeah, he had a point.

  “Tell me what happened,” Clarke said as he released me and started looking around.

  “I guess Sal forgot he didn’t have a car until we got down here to the parking garage. He told me to call for a cab, so I did. We were waiting when the cab pulled up and three guys with guns got out. Sal shouted at me to run.”

  I pointed to where I had been hiding, wincing when I saw the destruction of the car I had hidden behind. “I ran over there, hiding behind the car while Sal started shooting.”

  “And then what?” Clarke asked.

  “I saw a guy creeping around the front of the cab. I called out to warn Sal and the guy started shooting at me. I barely had time to dive to the ground. And then…”

  Tears began to fill my eyes again.

  “And then what, Lany?” Clarke asked in a gentle voice.

  “It was quiet, Clarke, so quiet. When I got up, they were shoving Sal into the back of the cab and taking off.” I was unashamed of the tears that slid down my cheeks. “He wasn’t moving, Clarke.”

  “Do you know if he was shot?”

  I frowned as I sniffled and wiped at my runny nose. “No, I don’t think so. Sal was standing over here by the wall, and there’s no blood here. There is this dart thingy.”

  I walked over and pointed at it. “This thing.” It was lying in the middle of Sal’s spent cartridges. “I think they shot him with something to incapacitate him.”

  Clarke didn’t touch it with his hand, but he did pull out a pen from his pocket and moved it around as if he wanted to get a good look at it.

  I did not like the grimace on his face when he looked up at me.

  “Call your uncle, Lany. We need the big guns for this one.”

  That did not make me feel better.

  I pulled out my cell phone and made the call I didn’t want to. Uncle Jerry was still on leave. Bringing him back before his leave was up seemed like cruel and unusual punishment, but I didn’t want to be in the same situation, mourning the loss of my spouse.

  “Uncle Jerry, it’s Lany.
I need your help.”

  “Do you know what time it is, Junior?”

  “Someone took Sal, Uncle Jerry. They attacked us in the parking garage of the courthouse, and after a rather spectacular gunfight, shot him with something to knock him out, and then they took him.”

  “Good lord! All right, I’m on my way. Don’t touch anything.”

  “No, I know.” I lived with a cop. A person kind of picked these things up after a while.

  “Let me talk to Marcus.”

  “Um…” Oh man, I was so going to hear about this from my father because I had no doubt Uncle Jerry would to tell him. “Marcus isn’t here right now. Since I was with Sal, he sent Marcus home.”

  “You’re alone?” the man snapped, pure panic in his voice.

  “No, Clarke is here with me.”

  “Then let me talk to Clarke.”

  Without a word, I handed the phone over.

  While Clarke talked to the police commissioner, I walked over and leaned back against the wall again. It amazed me that less than an hour ago, I had been in the same exact spot, blissfully happy. Now, I felt as if my heart had been ripped right out of my chest.

  I stiffened when I heard another car pulling into the garage until I recognized Marcus’s vehicle. I knew the man needed to be there—Sal would want him there—but he was a poor substitute for my SWAT commander.

  Marcus parked his car, stopped briefly to talk to Clarke, and then walked over to me. As soon as he stopped, I reached up and smacked him. Lightly. The man was huge after all. He could easily break me in two.

  “What—”

  “Stop blaming yourself,” I snapped. “You had nothing to do with this.”

  Marcus’s lips thinned as he glanced away, and I knew had been right reading his expression. The man was feeling totally guilty. “Sal is perfectly capable of keeping me safe.” I swallowed tightly when my throat went dry. “Apparently, he’s just not real good at keeping himself safe.”

  “We will find him, Lany. I promise you that. No one will stop looking until he’s back with us.”

  I hoped so. I didn’t even want to contemplate my life without my handsome Italian SWAT officer. “We had already called my father and asked him to put extra security on the girls, but could you check on them? I just—”

  “Need to know the rest of your family is safe.”

  I smiled weakly. “Yeah.”

  Except for last year when Sal and Vinnie had been kidnapped by a crazy ex-lover of the mob boss, I had never been on this end of things before. I was always the one getting taken hostage or kidnapped or beat up or whatever.

  Not Sal.

  Never Sal.

  I didn’t like it.

  “Has anyone called Burke?” Marcus asked.

  I squinted at the guy. “You think we need to call in the feds?”

  “I think we need to call in Burke.”

  “He’s currently on an undercover assignment, but I know Sal got a message to him and he said he’d get here as soon as he could,” Clarke said as he walked up.

  I liked Burke. He was a no-nonsense type of guy. He played by the rules, even when he didn’t like them. On the other hand, I knew I could depend on him to help me get Sal back. The man wouldn’t stop until he found Sal and took down whoever kidnapped him.

  “So, now what?” I asked. “What am I supposed to do now?”

  Usually I knew, or just winged it. This time, I didn’t have a clue.

  “You go home with Marcus,” Clarke said. “If I have any news, I’ll call you.”

  Yeah, I didn’t like that idea, but I also couldn’t see what good sticking around the parking garage would do me. I seriously doubted Sal would suddenly show up.

  My karma wasn’t that good.

  “You’ll call me?” I asked.

  Clarke nodded. “The minute I know something.”

  I wrapped my blanket tighter up around my shoulders and started walking toward Marcus’s car. The man was right there with me, looming like my own personal shadow, and I guess he kind of was. Until Sal came home—and he would be coming home—Marcus would stick to me like a second skin.

  I think Marcus was a little bit afraid of Sal, which I found totally hilarious. Sal was about as scary as my bunny slippers.

  But maybe that was just me.

  The ride home was uneventful. There didn’t really seem to be anything to say. I wasn’t going to feel alive again until I had my Sal back, and maybe that special night he promised me.

  “You know.” When a chuckle escaped my lips, I was pretty sure I was losing it. “This all makes perfect sense.”

  Marcus gave me a dubious look. “Sal getting kidnapped makes sense?”

  “Yeah, our anniversary is this week.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lany

  My hands were a little shaky as I poured myself a cup of coffee. I had gotten very little sleep last night. I didn’t sleep well when Sal wasn’t there. It was even worse knowing he wasn’t there because someone had taken him.

  “Hey.”

  I glanced up at Lyn. “Hey.”

  “How are you hanging in there?”

  I shrugged as I went back to fixing my coffee and then carried it into the dining room where everyone seemed to have gathered. Again, there didn’t seem much to say, not unless someone was going to tell me they had found Sal. I didn’t see that happening simply because if Sal had been found, he’d be here with me.

  I shuddered when I took my first sip of coffee. I’d mainline the stuff if I could. Sal usually relegated me to one or two cups, depending on our day. I enjoyed the one cup I was drinking because I felt too guilty drinking two when he wasn’t there.

  Just as I was finishing my first cup, Lyn set a plate of cheesy eggs and toast down in front of me. It came accompanied by a tall glass of orange juice and a plate of cut fruit. Under normal circumstance, I would have been eating like there was no tomorrow. This wasn’t normal and my stomach was one big knot.

  When I just stared at the plate, Lyn huffed. “At least drink the orange juice, Lany. You need it.”

  I grabbed the juice and drank it down until the glass was empty. “Happy?” I asked as I set the glass back down on the table.

  “I’d be happy if you ate the rest of it, but I’ll take the juice.”

  “I appreciate it, I do, I just…”

  “I know, your stomach is in knots.”

  “Yeah.” I was so glad Lyn was my friend. He understood me well. “I’ll try and eat the toast if I can.”

  “Just eat what you can, Lany. Don’t force it.” Lyn patted my hand. I took it for the reassuring gesture that it was. “I know this is hard on you, but if I don’t return you to the lieutenant in the same condition I got you in, he’ll skin my ass.”

  I smiled despite my despair. “Sal wouldn’t harm a hair on your head.”

  Lyn snorted. “Says you.”

  “Do we know anything new?” I grabbed a piece of toast as I waited for a response. The coffee and the orange juice were sitting heavy on my stomach. I hoped the toast might soak the liquid up before I puked.

  “Well, it’s looking like whoever did this is after those body cam tapes, which means we’re going over them with a fine-tooth comb. Clarke seems to think there is something on them the bad guys don’t want us to see.”

  I glanced up and then looked around. “Clarke is here?”

  “Yeah.” Lyn nodded toward the great room. “He’s making a timeline.” He winced. “Sorry, you’re going to have to paint the wall again.”

  I waved a dismissive hand. “He can write on the ceiling for all I care. I just want Sal back.”

  “Yeah, Clarke’s ego might be tall enough, but not the man himself.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Problems?”

  Lyn’s lips twitched at the corners. “Not with me.”

  I glanced toward the great room again. I could hear voices, but I couldn’t see anyone, and I had been too zoned out when I stumbled to the kitchen to see who was
in my living room.

  But I knew.

  “Eddie’s here?”

  “And all up in Clarke’s grill. Personally, I think he enjoys pushing Clarke’s buttons.”

  The two men were combustible when they were in the same room. Victor Clarke, SWAT officer, and Eddie Wu, related to two “alleged” mobsters. They were so far on opposite sides of the spectrum, they were practically meeting up again.

  It was worse when Burke was here.

  “I need popcorn,” I said as I got out of my seat. “This should be good.”

  I knew I was right when I walked into the great room and Clarke was glaring at Eddie, who sat on the couch, flipping through a magazine as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  “Eddie.”

  “Oh, hey.” The man in question smiled over at me. “Get your coffee?”

  I nodded as I held up my toast. “Lyn is feeding me.”

  “Oh, good.” Eddie’s smile was sickly sweet as he glanced at Clarke. “Sgt. Clarke was just filling me in on how every crime ever committed was all the responsibility of my father and my uncle.”

  I glanced at the man when he grunted.

  “That is not what I said,” Clarke insisted.

  “Uh, yeah,” Lyn interjected. “It kinda was.”

  Eddie just waved his hand toward Clarke. “I rest my case.”

  “Not that this isn’t entertaining and all,” I said, “and I would love to hear what exactly you did say at some point, Clarke, but is there anything new on Sal?”

  “Oh god, Lany.” Eddie tossed his magazine aside and jumped up. “I’m sorry. Clarke and I were just letting off some steam.”

  “Eddie is right, Lany,” Clarke said. “We’re actually just waiting on a phone call right now.” He turned back toward the wall, where he had drawn lines between notes and pictures. “I think we pretty much have everything we know on the storyboard.”

  I munched on my toast as I walked over and examined the wall. I started at the beginning, going through every string, every picture, note, and clue. I paused at one note someone had made and pointed.

  “It was a regular yellow cab, nothing out of the ordinary to show it as anything else. I called the number programmed into my phone. You might want to check out the dispatcher.”