Page 25

I picked up my things from my locker before I headed to the blue room. I wanted to text Eli and make amends.

I’m back , I texted. Gertie and I are fine. Sorry, I outed you. Can we talk later?

He replied immediately. Glad you came back in better shape than your boyfriend. I didn’t know I had that kind of power. Let me know when you get home. The pizza and beers are on you.

I smiled. He wasn’t mad at me.

Ace met me in the hallway. I launched myself at him, throwing my arms around his neck and embracing him tightly.

“Thanks, Ace,” I said. “It was a risk for you to come.”

He squeezed me back, then released me.

“Did things work out with the general?” he twisted his lips in an I’ve got a story demeanor.

“You found him?” I asked. “I wasn’t sure how he made it back to Gettysburg.”

“He fancied himself drinks with your cousin.”

“You met Darryl?”

Ace grinned ear to ear. “The bloke has stories. He could make a few quid selling them. Thankfully, Darryl agreed to let me tuck the general in bed. By the amount of moonshine left in the bottle, I’ll be surprised if either one of them remembers what happened.”

“The general arrived at exactly the right moment in time.”

“Brilliant. It was a bloody battle forcing the man to sit in the outhouse. I chased ’im around your garden a few times, finally had to knock ’im on his bum.”

I snorted at the image Ace conjured.

“I’m glad you’re home safe and sound.” He glanced at the bandage on my leg. “What’s that?”

“My first gunshot wound, or in this case grapeshot.”

“Gurl, you need to think about what you fight for. Staying on base has its perks. I don’t have any of those wounds. Just sayin’.”

“I’m fighting for freedom, to be considered an equal.”

“Didn’t Gettysburg teach you anything?”

“Yes, to be strong, brave, and fight for what you believe in.”

“Bloody ’ell, you’ve been drinking the Civil War Kool-Aid. You’ll have the transporters assigned to our own missions before you’re done.”

“You think that’s a possibility?” I asked, hopeful.

“Gurl.” He looped an arm around my shoulders, and we headed for the debriefing.

All the teams were present in the blue room, making it standing room only.

The Russian team leaned against the wall. Fredericka scrolled through her phone as I passed. Her glittering black fingernails tapped against her screen. She paused and gave me a thumbs up.

The other teams gathered around the conference table. General Potts sat at the head like the stoic Queen Bee waiting for the hive to bring news of the world. He hadn’t visited the blue room often since I joined the WTF. Gettysburg was a big deal.

I took the open seat next to Gertie, who was in the middle of describing the horrible conditions the soldiers dealt with in the field hospitals.

General Potts turned a light shade of green when she gave a detailed account of the way grapeshot from a canister artillery took a man’s privates clean off.

Jake asked a few questions, and Gertie and I took turns answering.

I explained my part, describing Victory and revealing to them she was pregnant, but leaving out the part about Caiyan being the father.

General Potts coughed into his hand. “As you know, Agent McGregor received a serious wound in Gettysburg. He’s returned to our team, but for the sake of rescuing the seer from the Mafusos, I am pronouncing him dead.”

“He’s always been dead to me,” Gerry spouted off.

It took a minute for General Potts’s words to sink in. Wait? what? We are supposed to fake Caiyan’s death? And the seer doesn’t need to be rescued. She agreed to go with them.

Jake noticed my uneasiness with General Potts’s statement and shook his head. My instincts told me to keep my mouth shut.

I retold the scene I witnessed between Caiyan and Victory, hitting heavy on the part where Victory left of her own free will, and with only a few minor changes.

I replaced the part where Caiyan recovered the box with me picking up the box after Caiyan had left the area and explained how since the box made it back to headquarters, I assumed there was a key inside.

Everyone shifted closer when I produced the key. No one refuted my story or claimed to have seen this key before. I finished my recollection of the events in Gettysburg,

General Potts, satisfied with the outcome, left the Victory key, which it was now called, in Jake’s care and excused himself from the room.

The interrogation was deemed officially over, and the other teams dispersed. My team remained at the table.

Campy stood. “I’m going to check on Uncle Cai.” He squeezed my shoulder as he passed me on the way out.

“I can’t believe that was you. We rode together across Seminary Ridge,” Brodie said. “I asked ya medical advice.” My team was astonished that I was Dr. Seuss.

Were their lives different than before I had left for Gettysburg? Had an alternate universe now become their reality? Another life, like the one they had lived, but with the good Dr. Seuss present to help General Lee with his germs, had replaced the previous one. The unfortunate result of time travel.

Jake told me technically, it was a loop. I had always been there to save Sam Raney. My brain ached trying to make sense of it.

Gertie had done an amazing job calling the exact orders Lee had given to his corps commanders. I told her so as she finished flipping through a history book on the battle of Gettysburg and reported there were no changes.

“Except this one,” she said and pushed the book toward me. The book was opened to a chapter on the medical doctors in the Civil War.

A paragraph read General Lee suffered from what one doctor labeled as germs. Most likely it was a type of influenza, but the doctor used the word germ almost a decade before Robert Koch and Louis Pasteur contributed to the Germ Theory of Disease. The unnamed surgeon, who most likely died in battle, was ahead of his time.

“Huh, I’m a little upset they didn’t remember my name.”

It went on to read General Lee gave credit to his speedy recovery from the germs to something the unnamed doctor gave him called Mamma Bea’s lemonade.

“At least he didn’t mention the outhouse took him to another time,” Gertie said.

Heads bobbed in agreement.

“Well, mates,” Brodie stood. “I, for one, am glad to be back home. He scooped Gertie up in a long, tongue-filled kiss.

“Get a room,” Gerry catcalled.

“As fast as I can,” Brodie replied.

Marco limped in and stopped short at Brodie’s PDA.

“Whoa, are we celebrating?”

“Some people can’t control their urges.” Gerry threw shade Brodie’s direction.

Tina lifted a dark eyebrow at Gerry, then turned her attention to me.

“I wish I had already joined the team when Gerry and Brodie were younger, but I was still a babe in my homeland.”

“Nah you don’t, because I wasn’t here to make things exciting.” Marco sat down at the table.

“How’s the leg?” Jake asked him.

“Better, after the torture session. Sixteen stitches, but I made a date with one of the nurses, so it’s all good.” He cut a quick glance my way.

“Jen found the Victory key,” Ace told Marco.

“You did?” He raised his eyebrows at me.

“It was in the puzzle box Victory threw away before she left with Toecheese.”

He held my gaze for a long, intense moment. Drumming a few taps with his fingers on the table, he turned toward Jake. “Since McGregor is on the road to recovery, and we have the key, can we get on with my debriefing so I can head out?”

“Hey, does your nurse have a sister?” Gerry asked.

“You’re disgusting,” Tina said to Gerry. “So did General Potts approve the transporters to travel alongside their defenders?” she asked Jake.

Tina didn’t like being left behind either.

“He’s giving me an answer based on this travel,” Jake said.

Tina looked hopeful; Ace did, too. I couldn’t decide which situation General Potts would deem accountable. Me saving Caiyan because I was there, or the fact Ace was available to save him because he didn’t travel with his defender. The outlook wasn’t good in my opinion.

Jake’s phone pinged, and he frowned at the screen.

“What is it?” Ace asked. “Problems with the new girlfriend?”

“The Mafusos want a trade.”

Brodie and Gertie returned to their seats, and we waited for the details.

“The Victory key in exchange for the seer.”

“Why would we give up a key?” I asked. “She chose to go with them.”

“She may be in danger,” Brodie said. “When the Mafusos figured out she didn’t have the key, she was of no use to them.”

“I agree with Brodie,” Jake said, “They would have had her killed if she had kept the key, so it was good she tossed it at Caiyan.”

“Maybe she did it on purpose,” Gerry said.

I huffed, and Gertie cleared her throat at me.

“How do we know she’s not working with them?” Tina asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“What if she reveals our location to the Mafusos?” Ace chimed in. “I mean, she did leave with them on her own accord.”

Yes, Ace. Make Jake see it’s a dangerous move. I couldn’t bear to watch Caiyan and Victory work with my team, not to mention baby McGregor’s impending arrival. My inner voice held up a pair of knitted booties, and I cursed out loud.

Jake’s phone pinged again. Saved by the bell.

“They want Jennifer to meet them, with the puzzle box.”

“Me?”

“They think you’re the weak link, cupcake.” Gerry said.

Jake texted back.

“What did you say?” I asked him.

“I told them, I’m not sending you alone. We will match our defenders to whatever muscle Gian-Carlo brings.”

We sat in silence, everyone waiting for the next ping. When it arrived, Jake read aloud.

“She can bring three people. Only WTF, no goons, no guns, and if Marco is present, he’s not allowed to wear his key.”

“Why the fuck not?” Marco fussed.

“You know why,” Ace waved a hand at him. “The Mafusos don’t want you pulling any of your Jedi mind tricks when they snatch the key from us.”

“You think they’re going to take the key and keep the seer?” Tina asked.

“Ya bet your sweet arse they are.” Brodie crossed his arms over his chest.

“Tell him we agree, but only if we pick the meeting place,” I said.

Jake paused, considered, then typed my words.

“They agreed.” He squinted his eyes at me. “I told them no goons or guns. Now, you want to tell me what’s going on upstairs?” He tapped the side of his head.

“They said I can only bring three people. They didn’t say anything about animals.”

A wide smile spread across Gertie’s face. “Mama’s Double Wide?”

I grinned back at her. “Oh, yeah.”

Twenty-four hours later, I arrived at Mama’s Double Wide. Jake had secured a meeting during the day when the club was closed. It didn’t take much to persuade Darryl to assist Jake on a top secret mission.

Once inside, Jake greeted us.

“I’m not usually on this side of the law.” Darryl grinned ear to ear. He had Daphne secured in her travel cage and Tonto riding shotgun in my backpack.

Jake cut an uncertain look my way.

Daphne gave a squawk. Darryl opened a Tupperware container and chose a treat that resembled slimy chicken gizzards. He passed it between the wire grid. Daphne took it in her claw and tore off a piece with her sharp beak.

Intel reported the Mafusos had flown to Texas by private jet. Mahlia could have transported the keyless, but one day wasn’t much time to acquire goons in the area. My money was on Gian-Carlo brought his own. If he was abiding by the terms of our agreement, no goons, no guns, the hired hands would stay away from the bar but circle the perimeter like starved hyenas.

I peeked in at Tonto. He was curled up in a ball asleep. The cuddly quarters of my backpack provided a cocooned haven for the burglar.

I escorted Darryl upstairs to the second story loft inside Mama’s Double Wide to wait for the Mafusos’ arrival. Marco, Jake, and Brodie waited downstairs. A breeze blew in from the large, open pitching window across the loft. The air smelled of Texas summer, hot and humid. I pulled my hair back into a messy bun, securing the bun with a hair tie I wore around my wrist.

Darryl placed Daphne’s cage on a table near the balcony and removed his cowboy hat, taking in the scenery.

I joined him looking out through the giant window at the parking lot below. The loft provided a bird’s eye view for the manager of the club to observe the bar, tables, and shenanigans below, and offered an area for VIP guests. A picture of the actor Jamie Foxx, a native of the area, hung on the wall above a cozy lounge area.

Marco turned and looked up at me from his position by the door. I gave him a finger wave. He gave me nothing.

The high vaulted barn roof was perfect for what I had in store for the Mafusos. Daphne gave another objection to being confined in her cage.

“Do you think Daphne will be able to do her thing in here?” I motioned toward the thick beams running parallel to the ceiling. Jake had originally objected to my plan; it took some convincing before he agreed.

“No problemo,” Darryl said. He replaced his hat and pushed another treat through the cage. “Daphne’s a professional.”

We moved a large, potted plant in front of the table to provide Darryl a screen from the Mafusos. He could watch the goings on below without being seen.

“Incoming,” Gerry’s voice broadcasted across everyone’s in-ear communication devices. The Mafusos weren’t stupid. They knew we would have people on the outside, too. Tina and Gerry blocked the exit to the highway in case the Mafusos thwarted my plan and got by us. But my plan didn’t allow them to have the key.

“Aboot time. I’m sweating my bloody balls off out here.” Campy reported from the roof of the Taco House next door.

A black Lincoln pulled up at the entrance to Mama’s Double Wide. A hired hand exited the Lincoln and scoped out the place. When he was satisfied we didn’t have a militia waiting in the wings, he opened the car door. Gian-Carlo stepped out, followed by Mahlia.

“That the bad guys?” Darryl asked me.

“Yep, the Big Kahuna and his granddaughter.”

The hired gun got in the Lincoln and the car drove away.

“Looks like Gian-Carlo is complying with the agreement.” Jake alerted us of the situation. “Brodie is checking the old man and his twiggy witch.”

He had picked up Brodie’s nickname for Mahlia. I suppressed a smile.

“Where’s the seer?” Ace asked from his position at the Grab-N-Gas across the street.

“Good question.” Jake responded into the microphone attached to his earpiece.

Where was Victory?

“Jen, let’s go,” Jake said to me. It was time for this barn dance to begin.

“Wait for my signal,” I said to Darryl, then cut my eyes at Daphne.

He acknowledged my request with a quirky grin. He was having too much fun. “Your uncle told me outthinking the enemy was the key to a successful victory.”

“My uncle?” I arched an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, the one who thinks he’s General Lee and likes to sit in your outhouse. We had a good talk. He enjoyed Mamma Bea’s moonshine.”

“Um…my uncle likes to live in the past.”

“Yeah, he seemed to be stuck on Gettysburg. I told him it was too bad we lost, but it worked out for the best.”

Crap on a cracker.

“He insisted the fight wasn’t over, and if he could get inside the head of his enemy, things would turn around.”

I mulled over General Lee’s words. “Wait for my signal.”

Darryl saluted and pulled on the protective glove he wore for Daphne.

I took the flight of stairs down to join the others.

“Gertie, get ready,” I spoke to her through my communication device on the way down.

“Roger that,” came her response.

Gian-Carlo sat at one of the cocktail tables wearing a dark suit, black silk shirt, and stony poker face. He was old school. Used to the way things were done in a mafia family. There were no earbuds dangling from his ear, or communication devices to call his goons. Every order handled by him.

Mahlia leaned against the bar. Her key returned and present in the open neck of her Alexis Virginia Lace white button-down. I swear the bitch was stalking my Pinterest boards. Where were Gian-Carlo’s other slaves? I expected Mortas and Toches, or at the very least Mitchell to be here.

Gian-Carlo shifted in his chair when he saw me, and Caiyan’s key gleamed in the V-neck of his silk dress shirt.

“Ah, there you are Jennifer Cloud.” Gian-Carlo’s words rolled off his tongue when I entered the room. His tone reflected years of practice grooming his grandchildren into the perfect pawns.

“OK, you have us here. Where is Victory?” Jake asked.

“Interesting choice of locations.” Gian-Carlo waved his hand in the air. “Makes me curious as to why you chose this place.”

“Cut the crap.” Marco stepped forward. “Where’s Victory?”

“How nice of you to join us, Marco.” A wicked smile creased Gian-Carlo’s face. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am to see you. Don’t worry. The seer will arrive momentarily. I had to make sure you came with the box. You know…you show me yours and I’ll…” he didn’t finish the sentence.

I looked over at Jake, and he nodded. This was my show. I reached into the pocket of my backpack, retrieved the Victory key, and held it up for everyone to see. The key sparkled as it rotated on the titanium chain suspended from my hand.

“She has the seer’s key,” Mahlia gasped. Probably disappointed she couldn’t march over on her stilettos and snag the key out of my hand.

“You figured out the puzzle of Elma’s box. She always liked to make the simple things difficult.” Gian-Carlo pressed his lips together. “Make the call,” he said to Mahlia.

She tapped out a text on her phone, and we waited. For what, I wasn’t sure.

“A white SUV is headed your direction,” Tina’s voice buzzed in my ear.

We stood three across from Gian-Carlo. Marco was to my right, and Jake on my left. Brodie was positioned by the door.

Mahlia pushed off the bar and paced in front of us. Her heels clicked on the concrete floor. She cut her eyes at me. “Mortas found your defender in Gettysburg and your little sidekick, too. I don’t believe you just sat by and allowed Caiyan to die in Gettysburg.”

She planned on me rescuing Caiyan. She knew we’d track her key, and by loaning it to Toches, she wouldn’t be blamed for helping Caiyan. Maybe she did have some feelings for Caiyan’s well-being.

“Did she call me a sidekick?” Gertie’s irritated voice grumbled in my ear.

“She’s needling you for information. Trying to figure out if you saved the bastard,” Gerry said in my ear. “Can you at least shed a tear and look like you’re suffering miserably from Caiyan’s death? I can feel you steaming from way out here.”

I dropped my eyes. Maybe having everyone connected via in-ear communication devices wasn’t such a good idea.

“Think about those abused animal commercials,” Campy suggested.

Jake moved in between me and Mahlia. “The loss of Agent McGregor was a travesty,” he said. “But he made his decision to leave us months ago.”

“Yes, a huge loss for Mahlia as well.” Gian-Carlo clicked his tongue. “A mistake on Kishin’s part, I’m afraid. He’ll pay the price for his defiance.”

I wiped a fake tear from my cheek and lifted my head, expecting to meet Mahlia’s judgmental brown eyes. I caught a glimpse of something, fear maybe. Was it possible Mahlia didn’t want to lose Toches the same way she thought I had lost Caiyan?

“My sidekick told me Aint Elma showed up and taught Mortas a thing or two.” I stared directly at Gian-Carlo.

Gian-Carlo sighed. “Even long after she’s been dead, Elma still intervenes.”

The SUV rolled up outside.

“Mortas and a pregnant girl are getting out of the car. Two goons are flanking,” Campy announced.

Mortas led Victory into the bar. The goons stayed outside. Her hands were tied behind her back. A knife was at her throat.

“You said no weapons.” I did a palms up at Gian-Carlo.

“You misunderstood; I said no guns.”

He had us on a technicality. The creep.

Mortas relinquished Victory to Mahlia, then returned outside. What was he up to?

“Where’s Mortas going?” Jake asked Gian-Carlo.

“We agreed on equal terms, did we not? I need something in the car, and I cannot have one of my boys entering the premises, correct?”

Gian-Carlo remained seated at the table and seemed not to have a care in the world. The vibe was wrong. An electricity I couldn’t put my finger on floated in the air.

General Lee’s words get inside your enemy’s head forced me to focus. I tried to read Gian-Carlo from across the room. A gift my aint Elma mastered, but I had to make contact to execute.

Focus. Arrogance consumed me and I envisioned myself standing on a battlefield raising the Victory key high above my head in triumph.

That’s it. Confidence. Gian-Carlo was entirely too confident he would get the key. My inner voice gave me a thumbs up for the evolution of my gift.

Victory stood next to Mahlia. Not a lot of contact for a hostage. Mahlia barely pointed the knife Mortas gave her toward Victory. It was a setup. Victory assumed I would trade the puzzle box to save her. She wasn’t being held hostage. She was in on the deal. I’d bet money that she didn’t know about Gian-Carlo’s grandson, the seer, the reason the Mafusos sought the key.

I dangled the key in my hand, and Victory’s eyes bugged. “She solved the puzzle?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Who is this woman?” Victory asked.

“Jennifer Cloud is Elma’s niece. She seems to have performed a task you could not.” Gian-Carlo said to Victory.

She cast her eyes downward and wrapped her arms protectively under her belly.

This wouldn’t be too hard. When we made the trade, I could put my plan into action, but I had to make Victory understand she was on the wrong side. I couldn’t tell her Caiyan was alive and waiting for her and the baby. General Potts would have my key if I disobeyed a direct order. Caiyan was dead to them. I had to get her away from the Mafusos.

“All right Gian-Carlo, let’s get down to business,” Jake said.

Gian-Carlo held up his hand. “Oh, I almost forgot, just to have a little insurance.”

A resounding, “Bullocks,” from Campy came through my earbuds.

Mortas entered the bar tugging a gagged, bound, and struggling Evangeline-Marco’s sister-with him. He held a knife to her throat. Her eyes grew wide when she saw us.

“Angel!” Jake and Marco cried out.

Marco looked at Jake, and Gian-Carlo chuckled.

“You asshole,” Marco yelled at Gian-Carlo. “She’s not part of this.”

“I know, that’s why I can kill her.” Gian-Carlo stood, smiled. “We agreed on three extra people at this meeting, no guns, no hired men. I’ve kept my side of the bargain.”

“Let her go,” Jake growled.

“Which one are you referring to?” Gian-Carlo waved a hand at the girls. “The seer, or the woman you’ve been seeing?”

Marco’s eyes widened. Jake’s secret girlfriend.

Everyone looked at Jake.

“You see, Marco, your boss has been spending a lot of time with your little sister.” Gian-Carlo lifted his chin at Marco.

“You son of a bitch!” Marco grabbed Jake by the shirt.

“Not here.” Jake kicked Marco’s injured leg out from under him. Marco rolled around on the ground in pain, then recovered and stood. The two men squared up against each other.

Mortas snickered.

“Stop it, both of you.” I shouted at them.

Marco dropped his fists, and Jake followed suit.

“That was amusing, but I haven’t got all day,” Gian-Carlo stood, adjusted his jacket, and turned toward me. “Now, you give me the key, and I’ll let you choose which one lives.”

Victory’s head snapped up, and her eyes narrowed at Gian-Carlo. “What do you mean?”

Mahlia held Victory and placed the knife against her pregnant belly.

“They have a seer,” I told her. “They don’t need you, only your key.”

“You can’t kill me,” Victory said to Mahlia.

“She can bleed you, and who’s to say your unborn child will survive a blood bath?” Mortas said to Victory.

“Ya wankers are scum!” Brodie called out.

Jake raised a hand to subdue him.

A wiggle in my backpack reminded me of my plan. I’d have to make a few modifications now there were more cards on the table. Get inside his head, my inner voice reminded me. I prayed Mahlia wouldn’t hurt Victory until I could put my plan into action.

“Did you know Caiyan works for the WTF and went back to warn you?” I glared at Victory.

“He couldn’t, he’s already been…” her words trailed off when the shock of Caiyan’s devotion brought tears to her eyes.

“Jennifer Cloud, bring me the seer’s key and I will free the woman of your choosing.” Gian-Carlo was done talking, and so was I.

I glanced over at Marco and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”

“Jen, no.” Marco dropped his hands to his side.

“Gian-Carlo, send Angel forward, and I’ll give up the key.”

I saw Victory stiffen next to Mahlia.

Gian-Carlo nodded at Mortas.

Mortas walked Angel to the center of the room. I met them. He unbound her hands and I hugged her tightly, transferring the Victory key in the process.

“You can’t kill Angel or Victory.” I moved toward Gian-Carlo. Closer, I needed to get closer. “You see, you’re wrong about Angel, she does have the gift.”

Gian-Carlo’s eyes jerked toward Angel, who was now wrapped in Jake’s arms, the Victory key securely fastened around her neck.

Marco eased toward Mahlia.

“I don’t believe you!” Gian-Caro seethed. “Marco’s grandfather would never have neglected one with the gift.”

“You’re right. He didn’t,” Marco said. “You had him killed before she came into her power.”

“Kill him!” Gian-Carlo pointed at Jake. He shouted at Mortas, who stood alone and dumbstruck in the middle of the room. “He’s the only one that can die here.”

“No!” Angel cried out, clinging to Jake.

I rushed toward Gian-Carlo as Mortas rushed toward Jake. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Marco take the knife away from Mahlia. The two goons who were waiting outside burst through the front door. Brodie slowed their assistance to the Mafusos with an attack on their flank.

I jerked to a stop in front of Gian-Carlo.

“What are you going to do to me little girl?” His sharp, cynical eyes almost laughing at me.

“I’m going to hit you where it hurts the most.” I lunged at him, grabbed Caiyan’s key from around his neck and yanked.

The key came off, dangling between my fingers, my secret talent exposed.

Gian-Carlo’s hands flew to his empty neck, and his smug, calculating eyes changed to those of a surprised child. “Impossible.”

I drew the necklace close to my chest, hugging the key like I was holding the last piece of the puzzle. The piece that made Caiyan complete. I stepped away from Gian-Carlo.

“Give me the key!” He came for me.

“Tick-Tock!”

Tonto scrambled from my backpack, peeked his head over my shoulder, and I slid the key over his head. He raced up the post next to me.

“Get that animal! It has my key!” Gian-Carlo shook his fist at Tonto.

“Correction, he has Caiyan’s key.” I clenched my fist and socked the old man right in the kisser. He reeled backward.

One of Gian-Carlo’s goons turned and jumped at the raccoon, but Tonto moved higher and hissed at him.

I gave Darryl the signal and he released Daphne. She opened her wings, swooped down, and scooped up Tonto, carrying him safely out the pitching window toward the clickety-click of Darryl’s clicker Gertie manipulated in the parking lot of the Grab-N-Gas.

“I’ve got the key,” Gertie sang into our ears. We’d meet her back at the townhouse later.

Victory and Angel were huddled together behind Jake, who had just broken a chair over Mortas.

Marco grabbed Mortas from behind. “He’s mine, boss man!”

Jake turned his attention toward Gian-Carlo.

“Gian-Carlo, you’re under arrest for extortion and kidnapping a non-traveler.” Jake moved toward the old man.

Gian-Carlo backed up a few paces toward Mahlia. He signaled one of his goons.

The burley Italian tossed a canister at Jake. It rolled across the floor and exploded, releasing billows of smoke. Caiyan wasn’t the only one using smoke and mirrors.

Brodie tackled the burley henchman as the smoke shrouded the room, allowing Gian-Carlo and Mahlia to exit the building.

“The old man and the twiggy witch are leaving,” Ace said.

“Try to stop them.” Jake coughed the order to Ace.

“What do you want me to do, hon, throw myself in front of their moving vehicle?”

Four simultaneous yeses blasted into my ear.

“Rude,” Ace replied.

“We’ll block their exit,” Gerry said.

“Scratch that,” Ace said. “They didn’t get into the car, Mahlia called her vessel. She’s taking Gian-Carlo with her.”

“Bullocks, they were gone before I could get to them,” Campy reported in.

The smoke was so thick I barely discerned Mortas and Marco trading punches. A payback for the goose egg Mortas left him in Gettysburg.

“You about done, Rocky Balboa?” I hollered at Marco.

He dropped a bleeding Mortas on the ground. “You want to take him in?” Marco asked Jake.

Jake pulled a pair of cuffs from his pocket and put them on Mortas. “Your grandfather left you to pay for his crime, again.”

Mortas threw a disgusted curse at the three of us.

Marco massaged his knuckles and left us, asking Campy to bring a car for Victory and Angel.

As the smoke lifted, I surveyed the damage to Mama’s Double Wide. A few overturned and broken chairs, a cracked window, and a broken bottle of Nue Vodka that Marco had smashed over his combatant’s head. Not bad for one of our brawls. Brodie had the two goons unconscious and cuffed by the door. They would spend some time in the local lockup, then be released.

Marco herded the girls out of the bar toward Campy, who swung in driving a bright yellow Hummer.

My work here was done. I looked up at the loft.

Darryl leaned against the railing nodding his head approvingly. He tipped his cowboy hat my direction. “God bless America!”