Revenge Code Read online

  Zaki stared at her with his little face, looking so innocent.

  “Shanahan.” Reece pushed the emotions flooding her eyes deep down, the only fair thing she could do for Shanahan right now.

  Earlier, when she’d arrived at his home, he’d been solid and unimaginably strong while speaking with the deputies who had been questioning him, asking him things that no one in that position should be asked. Things like, do you have anything you need to tell us—anything…we might find out?

  If he could be strong, she would be stronger. She would find whoever was responsible.

  “Maybe you should take a personal day or two. I’m digging deep, Shanahan. As soon as I know anything—”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “I’ll find Jessie. You have my word.”

  “Why haven’t I received a call yet, Reece? They had to have taken her for a reason—to get at me, I’m sure. They want something from me. Why haven’t they tried to contact me yet?”

  “We’ll get this figured out. If they wanted her dead, they wouldn’t have taken her. She’s alive.”

  Shanahan’s eyes became glassy and his breathing more erratic. His balance seemed unstable.

  Reece stepped forward. The distance between them closed, yet the emotion she saw on his face was spiraling away and out of control like she’d never witnessed.

  Reece did the only thing that felt right. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, with Zaki in his arms between them, pressing against her chest.

  She felt Shanahan fighting for control, yet sinking into her arms with his son for comfort.

  There wasn’t anybody sitting at the few surrounding desks next to Reece. For the moment, it was just them.

  Even in their younger days, she couldn’t remember Shanahan ever accepting support like this. She held him until his breathing returned to normal.

  After a few moments, Shanahan pulled away, blankly staring before returning his attention to Zaki, and forcing a little half-smile.

  “Actually, Reece, I was wondering if some of your Nohpalli friends might be able to help watch Zaki during the day? So I can still come in. I can’t just sit home.”

  “I’m sure Maisie or Beryl would be happy to help for a while until we… Why don’t you come down to the Nohpalli café with me and ask them yourself. It’s Saturday, and Beryl is always there. She scrolls through Facebook all day and strings along old men. She’d love to help, I’m sure of it.”

  “Reece, do you think this is about Don Rico and his upcoming trial—about the cocaine operation?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You think I’ll get a call later? Telling me to back off?” Shanahan raised his voice. “There’s no way. This is America. You can’t do this in America.” He noticed Zaki watching him, and then took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

  I see you.

  Reece pushed Don Rico’s ominous words from her mind.

  “We’re not dropping the investigation, Shanahan. We’ll take down the smuggling ring, whether or not they’re involved in this. Don Rico is locked up. He’s not going anywhere. We’ll get them all and bring Jessie home safe. No one’s stopping us.”

  ◆◆◆

  Tommy Shanahan sat at a table inside Nohpalli café, talking with Reece and the long-in-the-tooth landlady, Beryl. Zaki sipped on an apple juice box through a little straw.

  The lone barista of the shop, Austen, approached. “The usual—scotch?”

  “No. I’ll have whatever Reece has.”

  Austen cautiously snapped his fingers. “Two extra-shot, almond milk lattes coming right up.” He slowly pivoted toward the counter.

  Austen must’ve already heard the news. His typical flamboyant enthusiasm had been subdued with an awkward, somber tone.

  Shanahan noticed Reece peering anywhere but at him, which made her curiosity of his beverage choice obvious.

  “Respect, Reece.” Shanahan answered the unspoken question. “I can’t drink anymore. Jessie needs me wherever she is. I need to keep my wits about me.”

  The silence at the table following his statement was more telling than any words would ever describe.

  They sipped their drinks and Shanahan asked Beryl about watching Zaki.

  “Sure, darling, I’d love to watch that sweetheart during the day for you. He could move in for the time being if that would make it easier. You can, too, child. Why don’t you pack a bag and stay at my place? Zaki won’t have to be moving around and you don’t have to…” Beryl looked lovingly at Shanahan as her voice trailed.

  “So I don’t have to feel so alone.” Shanahan spoke like a rock—dense, thick, and guarded. But he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone.

  “Right, child, right. Let me watch Zaki. Go back and get your things. I have plenty of spare rooms. Austen will help keep an eye on him here with me.”

  “I’ll keep those juice boxes flowing.” Austen picked up Zaki’s empty box and flipped it into the air, spinning around and then catching it behind his back. “And maybe do a little clowning around.” He spun back towards Zaki, scrunched up his face, and said in a high-pitched parentese voice, “Isn’t that right, little baby boodles?”

  Beryl smirked. “Being a clown should come quite natural to you.”

  With a flip of his wrist, Austen aimed the juice box straw at Beryl, and then squeezed the last few drops out. “We’ll see who’s laughing when you’re fumbling with his diapers.”

  Shanahan barely heard the friendly jesting. He mindlessly blurted, “With all that Jessie’s been through in her life…I can’t believe this is happening.”

  Beryl reached over and put her hand on Shanahan’s shoulder. “You’ll find her.”

  The world seemed to stand still for a moment.

  Shanahan stood to leave. “I’ll pack a bag. Be back in a little. Thanks again, Beryl. I’m in your debt.”

  “Hodgepodge nonsense. Now, go—and take your time. Zaki will be well taken care of.”

  Just then, Shanahan’s phone started ringing. His spine chilled as he paused mid-stride. Everybody held their breath. The once cheerful ring now sounded forlorn.

  Unknown number.

  He quickly answered. “This is Shanahan.”

  “Listen closely if you want to see her alive again.”

  Four

  Lucky’s words were cold and calculated. “You know how this goes, Shanahan. Unless you want your son to grow up without his mother, you’ll have to pay a small fee, and follow some instructions.”

  “Who is this? I swear, if you touch her, I’ll hunt you down—”

  “You’re not in the position to make the demands. Listen closely.”

  Lucky paused, moving towards Jessie. He thrust the phone in her face.

  “Say something,” Lucky commanded.

  Jessie whined, “Tommy! He tied me up. Please—”

  “That’s enough!” barked Lucky. He stepped out from the room where Jessie sat fastened to a chair.

  Shanahan yelled, “I’ll find you. And when I do, you’ll suffer anything you do to her, doubled. Do you hear me?”

  Lucky snorted. “Fifty thousand. You have until next Sunday. I’ll be in touch.”

  “How am I supposed to get that kind of money in a week?”

  “That’s not really my problem. Oh, and Shanahan, sleep well tonight.”

  Lucky hung up, uninterested in any further theatrics. The two-bit thugs had botched the job, and now Lucky had to improvise a new plan.

  The ransom money wasn’t Lucky’s focus. There was a bigger reason this had to happen.

  Lucky strode back into the white-walled bedroom where Jessie sat fighting for gasps of air between sobs. “We’ll have some guests in a few minutes. Unless you want them in here looking at you, thinking about what they might do to an attractive woman like yourself, all tied up, I suggest you don’t make a sound.”

  Jessie immediately stopped squirming, but tears continued splashing her robe.

  Lucky reconsidered. “On second thought
, I bet that’ll be difficult considering your situation. I better help you stay quiet. This is for your own good.”

  Lucky went to the kitchen for a roll of duct tape on the counter. After returning, he tore off a large piece. The sound of the ripping tape echoed against the bare walls of the empty bedroom. Then he grabbed the roots of Jessie’s hair, gripping firmly as he slapped the tape over her mouth.

  Her hands and feet were zip tied to a wood dining room chair in the center of the bedroom. She only wore sweatpants and a robe which loosely hung on her shirtless body.

  “Seriously. Don’t make a sound. That robe is barely staying on you as it is.”

  Lucky straightened his blue and green Hawaiian shirt, adjusted his woven straw fedora, and left the room, closing the door behind him.

  He waited, listening. A few minutes passed. Jessie hadn’t made a peep.

  Fear was a powerful ally.

  Twenty minutes later, two of Lucky’s associates arrived. Sitting together on a perfectly normal-looking couch and loveseat, in a perfectly normal-looking living room, nobody outside the room had a clue what they had on the perfectly normal-looking living room table.

  “This next batch of ‘caine is right-right. Should be able to cut dis dope up into plenty. Clean as the inside of my whip.” M. Knight pointed at the large bricks of compressed white powder on the table.

  “You owe me and my people, Lucky. Mucho Grande.” El Hijo Rico fidgeted, letting his disgruntled attitude show.

  Lucky had been resigned to dealings with Don Rico’s testy nephew, ever since Don was arrested. But now that Don recently threatened Lucky, El Hijo had become especially annoying.

  “Frankie Two-Fingers said he and his skinny catchpenny halfwit could take out Shanahan. But Frankie didn’t even get the bastard, he brought back the goddamned wife.” Lucky turned to M. Knight. “I thought your thugs were top notch, or ‘fresh and clean,’ or whatever the hell you said.”

  “Show some respect, Lucky. Don’t be forgettin’ who helped you out when you needed it most. And anyways, where is that lil wifey? She here?” M. Knight glanced around the room.

  “You think I’d bring her here? Now I know you’re really outta your mind. I can’t afford any more mistakes. One more and I’ll find a new supply chain for my buyers—and you can say goodbye to your cut.”

  “If you can find a deal even half as good as I get chu through the Ricos, be my guest.” M. Knight picked up one of the cocaine bricks and briefly inspected it before tossing it back on the table.

  El Hijo Rico looked up, pissed. “Find someone new, Lucky, go ahead. We have plenty of other customers. But Don’s promise still stands. Or else.”

  Lucky chuckled. “Shanahan isn’t going to testify against Don, or anyone. And, M. Knight, make sure your guy, Frankie Two-Fingers, doesn’t say anything. Anything. Capeesh?”

  Lucky stared at the extremely large thug. Making demands to someone twice the size of any normal man wasn’t something Lucky did often, but this Shanahan-and-Don-Rico situation was an inch from falling apart.

  “Frankie ain’t sayin’ nothin’. Don’t get your panties all bunchy.”

  Lucky turned back to El Hijo Rico. “I’ll get this job finished, one way or another. Just make sure Don stays quiet.”

  “¿Como?” El Hijo stood, flustered. “This whole thing has gone to hell. You think my family isn’t bringing down the wrath?”

  Lucky didn’t flinch. “Then you’ll make sure. Keep the wheel of supply and demand turning. You do your part and I’ll do mine.”

  The young Rico walked over to the living room window and pulled the curtains back, just a smidge, peering out, almost as though he was watching to make sure no one was waiting for him outside.

  M. Knight said, “Now to the important matters. My due.”

  “Of course.”

  Lucky stood and went to the master bedroom of the house. In that room sat a large metal safe, the only piece of furniture besides a small bed. He pulled out a handful of banded, ten thousand-dollar stacks of one hundred-dollar bills.

  Most of them were for El Hijo Rico and his Columbian powder, but a stack went to M. Knight, too—his cut from the deal. M. Knight had connected Lucky to the Columbians and indefinitely got a cut of everything for that introduction.

  Walking back, while passing Jessie’s room, something in Lucky stirred. He felt a twinge of uneasiness.

  Abducting Shanahan’s wife was probably a mistake. Frankie was an idiot.

  Oh well, he thought. What’s done is done.

  But the situation proved one thing to Lucky.

  If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.

  ◆◆◆

  Jessie Shanahan studied her surroundings, her memories, and while fighting tears, tried to understand the makings of her captivity.

  How had she gotten in this situation? Tied to a chair, afraid for her life?

  Oh, right. She married Lieutenant Tommy Shanahan. Years ago, he had rescued her from a murderer. In fact, that was how she met him. And then she did something extremely stupid. She married him.

  In reality, Jessie would love Tommy until her last breath. Even being deathly afraid of being killed or taken advantage of, she didn’t regret anything.

  But that didn’t mean she wasn’t terrified. The glue from the tape over her mouth stung and more than just her voice was silenced.

  She struggled against a deep fear that rippled from the depths of her soul. Would she ever see her son again?

  The zip ties cut into her wrists, ankles and lucidity. She wondered about her husband’s own ability to juggle the insanity he must be feeling, along with the gentleness needed to care for their son.

  Jessie knew that Tommy’s dark investigations—and subsequent drinking—had been steadily inching him closer to a bleak abyss in recent months. This might be the push that sent him off the edge.

  If only she could see them. If only she could know whether he and Zaki were okay. If only they could have just one more minute together.

  Please Tommy.

  Jessie heard voices from outside her room.

  The men’s voices sounded rough and violent. They sounded like they were making deals and following orders.

  Jessie felt bare and exposed. Before being stolen from her home, after pulling her robe on and crawling under her bed, she’d been able to grab a pair of sweats lying on the ground. She’d pulled them on just before the man with strange hands had smashed the lamp over Tommy’s head.

  There was only one thing she focused on. She tried to steady her mind and calm her emotions with this one thought.

  Her husband would find her.

  Five

  Detective Reece Cannon went into work early on Sunday. The sheriff’s department never stopped moving. The crime wheel kept turning. Unfortunately, the lack of leads in Jessie’s disappearance had Reece scrambling like a mouse on that wheel, running endlessly but getting nowhere.

  From behind her, a concerned, familiar voice spoke. “Reece, I’m glad you’re here.”

  Reece pushed the chair back from her desk and stood. “Sheriff Landy, I didn’t expect you. I thought you took the weekends off.”

  “I know how important this investigation is. Anything that affects one of my lieutenants also affects me. It affects us all. How is he—you know, considering?”

  Reece noticed the surrounding deputies scribbling notes, or making calls that were ultimately about the wellbeing of others. She could feel the invisible grayness that shrouded the office, weighing on the backs of everybody while they waited for news on Lieutenant Shanahan’s family.

  Sheriff Luke Landy didn’t always take such an interest. During this exceptionally difficult time, Reece appreciated Landy’s support.

  “He’s going crazy about it. I don’t think he’s slept. We’re all looking for connections and clues.”

  Landy glanced at the empty coffee mug on her desk. “So, anything?”

  “Not yet. Doesn’t matter how much coff
ee I drink.” Reece tried to smile but her face wouldn’t listen. “The number that called Shanahan’s phone had been untraceable. No leads there. Still waiting on DNA analysis. We don’t even know who the guy was. Jessie’s been gone for over a day now. I’m struggling for something…anything.”

  “You’ll find her. Info will come in, soon. You’re feeling this loss, too, Reece. I can see it all over you.”

  “It’s just that…I should’ve been there for Shanahan. But I was off gallivanting at the lake. If I could’ve just been around, maybe…I don’t know.”

  “This kidnapping is bound to mess with everyone’s head. Don’t take it personally. We all have to come to terms somehow. And keep moving.”

  “Shanahan feels alone in this. It’s obvious. If we don’t find Jessie soon…I don’t know if he’ll manage.”

  “We’ll get him all the help he needs. Who’s watching Zaki for him?”

  “Beryl, one of my friends from Nohpalli. I think you met her at the birthday barbeque.”

  “Sure, I remember. That’s a good-natured group of neighbors you have.”

  “Yeah.” Reece glanced at the unfinished paperwork on her desk. Whatever she didn’t finish here went home with her, to be splayed atop her kitchen table where plates should be, in front of the empty chairs.

  “I just want to find Jessie.”

  Landy stood silent for a moment, respectfully regarding her, before speaking. “Be patient and hang in there. Keep your head on straight, detective.” He turned to leave.

  “I did have one idea.”

  The sheriff stopped and turned back around. “And?”

  “I’m thinking about contacting the news and getting this on TV. Maybe if we get some heat out there, it’ll pressure the kidnapper to do something stupid. Or maybe a witness saw something unusual and will come forward.”

  “I wouldn’t do something brash like that. Think about Shanahan. You’re talking about putting his personal life all over the news. Plus, the last thing we need is the kidnapper to freak and kill Jessie.”