Drake tucked an earbud into Ridge’s ear and then the static sound coming from his phone grew silent. Ridge looked over at me and put a finger across his lips, and the three of us slowly made our way around the large buildings as he continued to direct us via his spy device.
I tried to keep my eye on the screen and also walk, but there wasn’t much to see until the bug reached our final destination. Ridge hovered it near a window and Imogen’s face came into view. I sucked in a breath when I saw her standing next to another woman who was decidedly not Katy.
Vonnie, the woman we met at the bakery, and Imogen were talking to another man surrounded by a large open space. The picture was grainy, but we had enough detail to make out their faces.
Ridge stopped in the other edge of the building, one away from the warehouse, and pulled his gun from his back pocket, holding his phone in one hand and the gun in the other. “That’s not Bernard. It’s the Grandmaster,” he said, more to Drake than me.
“That’s not good,” Drake said in reply and complete understatement.
I learned enough about the Grandmaster and his disobedient employee, Bernard, when Corbin became wrapped up in the situation earlier. We didn’t want the legendary mafioso involved here.
“We have to save her,” I whispered into the darkness, repeating what all three of us knew, but I felt the need to reiterate.
I trusted Ridge with my safety, but in that moment panic unlike any I’d felt before stole my breath. We weren’t here to dig up dirt on the Grandmaster or his organization. We needed to save Imogen. Ridge had to remember the plan.
One question, however, hadn’t yet been answered. “Where’s Katy?” They said she was driving Pierce’s vehicle, but she was nowhere to be seen. Every sweep the bug made of the building it was just the three people. The Grandmaster, Vonnie, and most importantly Imogen.
Ridge shook his head, but before he finished, we noticed movement as a new car drove up to the warehouse we watched so intently. A vehicle I recognized.
CHAPTER 23
IMOGEN
“I’m never eating fish again,” Vonnie said, wrinkling her nose.
Yeah, it was definitely a decaying fish smell. Vonnie and I entered the warehouse where the text message sent us less than five minutes earlier, but it took that long to decipher the horrifying smell permeating everything in the place. Fish guts.
It probably took so long to figure out because I didn’t have extensive knowledge of the smell of rotten seafood, but now that I’d pinpointed it, there was no way she was incorrect.
The smell made it so I had to focus on not gagging. You never wanted to offend the leader of a gang about his smelly warehouse while you are trying to negotiate for the release of your mother. I wasn’t sure of crime boss etiquette, but if there was such a thing, that was definitely in the book.
In ways, it was helpful. Because focusing on not throwing up all over the man’s shoes kept me calmer than I should have been in the situation.
“If you take her, she wants M&Ms. But only the green ones. Someone needs to pick out all the other colors,” Vonnie said using a lot of hand motions, mimicking picking out different colored M&Ms and tossing them behind her. “And they must wear gloves.”
I didn’t want to question her methods. “I don’t like M&Ms,” I whispered.
She leaned over and whispered back in my ear. “Katy says during negotiations it’s always good to start with something crazy.”
When she returned to her original position, I nodded. It did sound plausible. I wasn’t sure we’d get crazy a man who ran a criminal enterprise that spanned from Chicago to a now apparently Maine to agree, but I’d try anything. It became abundantly clear as we walked into the building and he introduced himself as the Grandmaster that we were not here to meet Bernard like I expected.
I knew enough about the crime lord’s organization to understand our situation just got worse. Which really if you thought about the life I lived the last few weeks, was definitely saying something. Originally, his rogue employee, who struck out on his own, kidnapped me, and now I walked into a kidnapping situation with the boss—the Grandmaster himself.
Except honestly it really didn’t scare me as much as I expected. My mother was still being held by the crazy person, so that was concerning. At least her captor wasn’t Bernard. It’s possible the Grandmaster had more compassion. He didn’t look like a scary mob boss or godfather. He didn’t even use a cane. And he didn’t have any scars or a cigar hanging from his mouth.
In a weird way, he was handsome. The man had to be over six feet with dark brown hair, almost black with the poor light in the building. Even his eyes weren’t scary. They were bright and bold. The most alarming part about him was his age. He couldn’t have been more than thirty-five, tops. But that was me being very ungenerous—in my defense he kidnapped my mother, so I wasn’t sure if I had to be kind to him—he was probably thirty. He had the faintest hint of crow’s feet around his eyes, and he even smiled when he saw us walk in. It wasn’t an evil smile. It was friendly. If I saw him in a restaurant, I’d smile back.
The most alarming part of the Grandmaster had to be his completely normal and unalarming appearance. If you crossed him on the street, you’d probably swoon.
Of course, he kidnapped my mother and did business in a warehouse that smelled like an overturned sushi truck spoiled on the highway, so I ignored the good looks.
The calm smile he wore into the warehouse slipped into a frown as he stared at Vonnie, trying to work out if she was on drugs. “You’re not a rock band and this isn’t a fucking concert venue.”
Unperturbed by his stare, Vonnie only shrugged. “Well, I’m sorry. I’ve never facilitated a hostage negotiation. Give a girl points for her first time.”
“Good. You should keep it that way.” The Grandmaster rubbed the end of his gun against his eyebrow and I cringed. I’d seen enough gunshot wounds in the hospital to know that could not be smart, but I didn’t consider it the time to tell him how to live his life. Also, I’d forgotten the gun. He had it out the entire time, but until he used it as an eyebrow scratcher, he held it at his side and I’d been able to pretend like it wasn’t there.
Apparently, over the last week or so, I’d become superb at denial. It worked for me so far, and I planned to keep going with it.
