Page 41 of Trapped (Sheppard & Sons Investigations #6)

Nathan

A teenage girl stood in the lobby holding a pizza and a small sealed brown box.

“Did you order pizza?” Meg asked again.

“No.”

My volume was polite, but my tone wasn’t when I asked, “Who sent you?” The girl went from bored to nervous in the blink of an eye.

John, Cate, and Doug joined us in the lobby.

“He didn’t say.” She took two steps back. I couldn’t blame her; she wouldn’t know the box on top of the pizza might contain a ransom note.

John asked Dean to take Violet upstairs, so she’d be out of hearing distance.

Then he stepped forward and took over questioning the girl. “Russo’s doesn’t deliver this far out.”

Her eyes skittered between us, looking like a cornered cat.

“Dude paid me an extra hundred bucks.” She held out the boxes. “Look, I’m just the delivery guy. Can you take these so I can leave?”

John stepped forward and took the boxes. “You’re not in trouble, but I’d like to ask you a few more questions.”

She swallowed so hard I practically heard it before nodding.

John set the boxes on the lobby table and walked her towards Meg’s desk. “Did you see the guy who placed the order?”

She nodded. “But he was wearing a hat and sunglasses.”

Nothing odd about that in early August.

“Did he use a credit card?” As expected, he’d paid in cash.

“What did he tell you to say about the extra box?” John asked, tilting his head towards the table. I was taking pictures of the boxes from all angles and looking for clues.

“He said it was a surprise for his old friend, Scott.”

My head snapped up. “What did you say?” My stomach dropped as fear and rage burned through my veins. It can’t be. I killed them.

It could be someone who’d stepped up and taken the reins. But then, why all the games? Why not just kill me?

Knowing what they’d done to me, blind rage filled my head, making me see red at the thought of them touching Ashley.

“Can I go?” the delivery girl asked.

When John looked at me for confirmation, I nodded.

Cate followed the girl to the door. “Lock it,” John ordered as soon as the door closed. He turned his attention back to me. “Blaszek?”

“Vegas.” I didn’t recognize my voice. Images of the warehouse flashed before my eyes. The sound of a whip cracking filled my ears. The tang of blood filled my nose.

My scar itched. My back burned. My lungs struggled to take in air.

When Ashley replaced me in the chair in my mind’s eye, my heart stopped beating as seconds that felt like hours ticked by.

Until rage replaced panic.

My lungs sucked in air. My mind locked down.

“They have her.” I reached for the box.

“You should wait,” John said.

“Who?” Cate asked at the same time.

“I don’t know exactly who, but I’ve only done one op using the name Scott. When I was deep undercover with the Perpura brothers in Vegas.”

Ignoring John, I used my pocketknife to cut the tape after handing my phone to Doug. “It’s recording.”

He nodded and stepped back to give me room.

Rage allowed me to share my story without fear. “They held me for two weeks, torturing me non-stop, after learning my real identity.” A chill ran down my back as I opened the flaps.

“I killed the brothers, so I don’t know who’s responsible for taking Ashley, but it’s someone from their organization.” It had to be.

After putting on the blue latex gloves John handed me, I carefully removed the single black rose, exposing a folded piece of paper.

I held my breath as I unfolded the paper, then laid the note flat on the table.

Doug moved to get a better angle for recording as I read the note out loud.

Scott Miller, or should I call you Nathan now?

Your brain must have leaked out of your face when Tommy slashed it open because it’s taking you and your PI buddies far too long to figure out who’s been taunting you via that pretty lady of yours.

The next time you kill someone, make sure they’re really dead.

It couldn’t be Tommy; I cut his throat and watched him bleed out.

Al. It had to be him. I’d shot him in the chest and assumed he was dead.

But I didn’t check . There wasn’t time. There’d been no news suggesting Al survived.

I knew because I’d checked religiously the first few months.

Once I was confident he wouldn’t reappear, I stopped.

There was no reason to keep torturing myself with the past while planning for the future.

Taking too long?

“It’s been Al all along.”

“I thought he was dead,” John said.

“So did I.”

“Call everyone back,” John ordered Cate before picking up his phone. “What name do I give for the BOLO?”

Ice ran through my veins. “Alan Perpura, of the Perpura Syndicate.” They never made the FBI’s top ten most wanted list, but they were in the top twenty. Until I killed them. Or thought I did. “Call the FBI, too. But I’m not waiting for any of them.”

I dug through the black plastic rose petals knowing there’d be more.

An envelope. Inside was a Polaroid of Ashley. She was bound and gagged, a hand forced her to face the camera. For Tommy , was written in black marker across the polaroid’s white strip.

The image of Al raising his right arm flashed in front of my eyes. The black rose tattoo on his right forearm was larger than life in my memory.

“How could I be so stupid?”

“Blaszek?”

“The black rose.” I handed the photo to John. “Al had a black rose tattoo on his right forearm. They wore long sleeves most days because they kept the room I was in cold as fuck, but I saw it when I shot him.”

“Can you be sure it’s him from just the arm?”

“Yes. Plus the note says, The next time you kill someone, make sure they’re really dead. It has to be.”

Knowing Al was behind recent events explained the level of cruelty. Using a stuffed cat to traumatize the Yorks was something he’d take pleasure in doing.

I sank onto the couch. My elbows landed on my knees as my head dropped into my hands. “How?” The why was obvious, but how?

“How’d Al survive? How’d he find me? How’d he find out about Ashley? How the hell do I find her?”

I didn’t realize I was talking out loud until John answered me.

“This isn’t on you.”

“But it is.” I lifted my head. “I didn’t finish the job.”

“I can’t speak to that, but you aren’t responsible for a madman’s actions.” He put a grounding hand on my shoulder. “Tell me what you know about him. Where is he most likely to hold her?”

A deep breath in. “He’ll want seclusion.” Hold. “He won’t be alone.” Deep breath out. “He’s a weapons expert.” Hold. “He likes to inflict pain.” Involuntary shudder.

I stood and dug into the box. Taped to the bottom were coordinates. Singularly focused, I was typing them into my phone before remembering the team.

“He gave me coordinates,” I said, still typing.

“Us. Unlike last time, you’re not in this alone.”

My thumbs paused while I looked him in the eye, nodded, and said, “Hooyah.”

Because the rest of the team returned without me realizing it, the round of “Ooh Rahs!” and “Hell yeahs” as they chimed in caught me off guard.

Calm washed over me. I was never meant to be a lone wolf. Falling back into a leadership position and issuing orders felt like coming home.

“Sharpe, can you pull up satellite footage for the coordinates?”

“On it. I’ll get the drone ready, too,” Doug answered.

“Thanks. Sheppard,” four sets of eyes turned to me. “Right.” I huffed a half laugh at my mistake. “John, can you bag all this?”

I was issuing the next order before he finished nodding.

“Jaden, we need an entry plan.”

“Obstacles?”

“Expect booby traps and an ambush.”

I heard Meg gasp.

“Just another Tuesday, right, Jack?” AJ asked with a grin, holding out his fist.

“Except it’s Wednesday.” Jack bumped AJ’s fist before hugging Meg to reassure her.

I put the team to work, knowing that together, we could save Ashley.

I hit speed dial. When I got Kroup’s voicemail, I left a brief message. “Perpura’s alive. He has Ashley. Meet us at SSI.”