Page 40 of Avenging Kelly

“I dropped off Marianna’s car at her house and left the keys in the mailbox to keep her out of this shit, but my meds and our clothes are in the spare room. I don’t wanna go back there in case someone is following me.”

Smokey was quiet for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Look, call Marianna on the sat phone, and tell her to get your shit together and put it out back, then swing by after dark to pick it up. Marianna is a very sweet woman, but I get the impression from Duke that she’s really a bad ass. She’ll be happy to help you out.”

That was sound advice. “Okay, I’ll find a hotel and wait it out.”

“Good. I’ll track down Dallas and have him check into Narc’s status. He’s a licensed bail fugitive recovery agent in California, too. Apparently, he tracks a lot of bounties into the Southwest U.S. and Cali, from what Narc told us when Dallas and Noble followed that guy to Mexico.”

I hadn’t outright asked, but I’d gotten the impression Dallas was a bounty hunter. I just didn’t realize his reach. Good to hear he knew his way around law enforcement.

“Okay. When will Duke get here, do you think?” I was sure the man was going to be pissed because I would be if two idiots put my mother in danger. It would be good to have another set of eyes on everything.

“Tonight. Like I said, lay low,” Smokey advised, so I kept walking toward a major thoroughfare and caught a cab, asking the driver to take me to a hotel nearby.

I suddenly had more hope than I’d felt in a long time—even since I’d been on Hope Island. I’d been operating on my own for nearly five years while I was with Operation Jackpot. It was incredible to actually have people who weren’t bullshitting. They had London’s back, and I believed they had mine, too. It was a foreign concept, having someone to rely on, but a part of me exhaled for the first time in years.

* * *

The cabbie took me to a chain hotel not too far from Marianna’s house, and I checked in. I called before Marianna was home from school, leaving a message on her answering machine to ask that she put our things in the backyard for me to pick up or give them to Duke if he arrived before ten that night.

Pacing the two-hundred square-foot room was the next thing I did after I turned on the local news to see if there was anything about the fire and the girls—there wasn’t, which was fucking worrisome.

After surveying the neighborhood from the window by the bed, I saw a gas station with a quick shop. I stewed on what I should do and decided maybe a new burner phone was in order since I’d had my old one for too long. I walked across the street, where I bought another pay-as-you-go model, a package of beef jerky, and a gallon of an energy drink.

I needed to be on my toes, so I passed by the beer, but I made a vow to myself that once things settled down, I’d get a case of that grappa Rafael got me drunk on. If London and I made it out alive and together, we’d drink a bottle every year on our anniversary.

The clerk looked at me as if I were crazy when I peeled a hundred off a roll of cash I’d shoved into my pocket from Fleming’s bag. “Keep the change, and here’s another one to erase the footage”—I pointed toward the camera by the register—“and maybe you forget you saw me.”

I handed over another hundred and waited while he shoved everything into a plastic handle bag before he reached up and popped out an old VHS tape from a shelf near his head. “They never look at it, anyway. I’ll just put in a new tape. This one’s ancient.”

Nodding as he shoved the money into his pocket, I took the tape with me before leaving the store and weaving in and out of four lanes of heavy traffic to get back to the hotel without becoming roadkill. I used the cardkey and went up the back stairs, trying to avoid any cameras along the way because I’d forgotten my cap in the car when I dropped it off.

When I got into the room, I stowed the drink, stomped on the tape to wreck the film inside, and sat down with the phone to figure out how to set it up.

The last thing I wanted to do was call The Gambler to see if there was any progress on the antidote, but I didn’t see any other choice at the moment. I damn well didn’t trust her enough to give away my location, so I turned off the “find my phone,” option on the model I’d bought.

I dialed the number I’d memorized—the one she’d put in with my separation papers—and I waited for it to be answered. When it stopped ringing, nothing was said. “Hearts, here,” I announced.

“Thank heaven. I thought you were going to let me down, Kelly. You must be running low on Poker Chips, and I’m sure you’ve tried to detox on your own, but you’ve learned that’s not possible, haven’t you? Where are you? I know you’re not in Kansas, nor are you in New York. Your chip stopped giving a signal in Seattle. Are you still there?”

I couldn’t tell if The Gambler was bullshitting me or baiting me, so I didn’t answer. “How’s the antidote?”

“Not well. I tested it on another member of the team, and the results weren’t as I’d hoped.” Who? Clubs or Diamonds? Was one of them dead now? Had she found the information we’d stashed for the others and killed them?

My head was pounding. “Did they die?”

“By their own hand, I’m afraid. I suppose the pain of it was too excruciating to survive, so I’m back to the drawing board. I know where I made my mistake, so with a few tweaks, I’ll have perfected it. Tell me where you are, and I’ll bring more Poker Chips to you. You know, don’t you, that Las Vegas isn’t happy with your disappearing act?”

I stopped pacing, but then my common sense kicked in. You can’t believe a fucking thing this woman says. Don’t be stupid! No way the fucking Pentagon gives a shit about where I am!

“You got any information for me about the people responsible for kidnapping my sister?” I asked her.

“I’m sure anything I’ve heard, you already know. Oh—wait! I did hear rumblings that someone is looking for your sister and little Daisy.”

A shiver skittered down my spine at her words. What the hell was I going to do? I was in San Diego.

At my silence, The Gambler continued. “Apparently, Mia contracted with a couple to give them the girl and to sign over her parental rights when the child was born, but she took off. In return, she was well compensated by a powerful couple in New York social circles. Now, your sister’s reneged on the deal, and people who are used to getting everything they want don’t enjoy being played a fool. Your sister received fifty-thousand dollars for her care and inconvenience while she was pregnant, and now the couple want their baby or their money. I believe it’s someone your friends at GEA know. Gabriele Torrente is well-versed in New York society,” The Gambler seemed to taunt.

“That’s a lie,” I responded, my voice tight with rage and fear at her confirmation of what Devaney had said before she was killed. The two of them damn well wouldn’t be hard to find at my mother’s house in Queens. I prayed Smokey was good for his word and got someone to protect my family.

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