The Seven: A Taste for Jazz: Book 3 of The Seven series (9 page)

*****

Jazz was glad she'd chosen to wait before going in pursuit. Once she knew which direction they were headed, she'd mapped a course that would allow her to get head of them if she pushed it. And now she was. She decreased speed so that they had eventually passed her and dropped back a half mile, leaving plenty of space between them and silently blessing Conner for having the Navigator's windows tinted as dark as was legal.

When they pulled over, she drove on by and pulled into the lot of a gas station next to the convenience store where she could see inside the car as Barnette heaved his big ass out and stomped into the store.

She almost made her move then but decided against it. Conner was safe and freeing him now wouldn't clue her in on who was behind this. The only way to stop it from happening again was to cut off the head of the snake in control. And that's exactly what she intended to do.

But she wanted to let Conner know that she'd gotten his message and was close. The question was how to go about it without clueing Barnette in.

She waited a minute after they pulled out then gassed up and got back on the road. Hoping that Barnette would not catch on, she stomped the accelerator, caught up with and passed them. Surely Conner would recognize his own car, or at least the license plate. And hopefully Barnette would not recognize her.

She took the first turn she came to, waiting for them to pass and then did a U-turn and got back on the road, moving into a good tailing distance behind them. Did Conner get the message that she was tailing them? How would she know? As she exited onto 95 North, an idea came to her. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed Conner's number, hoping he'd realize her call was a ploy and play along.

It rang several times before he answered.

Conner's car phone rang. The caller ID registered the number as Jazz. Barnette saw the readout on the dashboard display. "No fucking way. Let it ring."

"If I don't answer she'll know something's up."

Barnette jammed the barrel of the gun into Conner's thigh. "You try anything funny and you'll walk with a limp from now on. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it,"

He punched the connect button on the steering wheel. "Conner here."

"You cocksucker!" Jazz's voice screamed over the speaker-phone. "You fucking rat bastard! You fucking ran out on me!"

"Jazz honey—"

"Don't fucking Jazz honey me. I went home and packed just like you said and when I got back here you're fucking gone and then I get that fucking kiss-off message on my cell and...you sonofabitch!"

"Jazz baby—"Conner got the message. He had the moment his car pulled in front of them. She'd been to the house, discovered him gone and had gotten his text message. Now she wanted to make sure he knew she was on their ass.

"Not another word. You hear me, you piece of shit? You might have played me once, but you sure as shit won't do it again."

"Jazz, if you'd just let me—"

"I won't let you do shit, you cocksucker. We're done. You got it?And where the fuck's my car? I want my goddamn car, Conner."

"I-I borrowed it. Got some errands to run, babe."

"I don't give a fat shit about your errands. I want my fucking car. And trust me, I'm gonna ride your ass till I get it. You understand?"

"Yeah, I got it."

"Then get your ass back here with my car."

"Yeah, as soon as I can."

The connection went dead and Barnette broke out into a laugh. "This is fucking rich. You took her fucking car?"

Conner shrugged. "I like the way it looks."

"And that bitch is stuck back at your house thinking you're out for a joyride." Barnette pounded his knee with his free hand. "Fuckin' A!"

Conner made no comment and resisted the urge to check the rearview and side mirrors to see how close Jazz was behind them.

It both comforted and alarmed him that she was tailing them. Now it wasn't just a matter of protecting his own hide. He had to make sure nothing happened to her.

Chapter Nine

Of all the scenarios I could have cooked up in my mind, this one would not have occurred to me.  I didn't expect to find myself a target for kidnapping, but that I can see as a plausible thing.  Someone wants what I have and whoever it is, they're willing to kidnap and probably torture and kill me to get it.

I'm not that concerned. I do have abilities that give me an edge.  And a brain that's superior to most.

No, what concerns me is the woman following me, the one determined to protect me at any cost.  Even her life.  Were she simply a bed-mate, I might be able to dismiss the concern that nags at me.

But it's not just a woman.  It's my woman.  Whether she realizes it or not, Jazz is mine.

.

When the Jag took the Fayetteville, North Carolina exit, Jazz followed. The Jag pulled into the parking lot of a roadside motel. Jazz pulled in across the street at a convenience store and watched. A few minutes passed before Barnette got out and went inside the office.

This could be a break for her. She had a lot of contacts in Fayetteville. She waited and after a few minutes, Barnette reappeared. He got back in the car and the car pulled around to the rear of the motel.

Jazz pulled across the street and eased through the parking lot in time to see Conner opening the door to a ground level room. Barnette stood behind him, a jacket over his arm, no doubt covering his weapon.

She pulled out her cell phone and called Conner's number.

Conner had just entered the room when his cell phone rang. He looked at Barnette.

"Use the speakerphone," Barnette ordered.

Conner punched the speaker button. "Conner."

"Where's my fucking car?" Jazz's voice screeched loud enough to make both men wince.

"I'm not done with it."

"Well you better get done with it. I'm fucking tired of waiting. I'm going to see some friends but I'll be back bright and early in the morning and when I get here I better see my car."

"Whatever."

"Yeah, you're gonna be singing whatever if I don't see my car. I'm serious, Conner. Either my car's here or I'm going after you. You hear me?"

"Yeah, right. Gotta go, babe."

He closed the phone and looked at Barnette. "Satisfied?"

"Fuckin' A," Barnette said and tossed him the handcuffs. "Now get your ass on the bed and cuff yourself to the frame.

"Mind if I take a leak first?"

Barnette gestured with his gun toward the bathroom. "The door stays open."

Conner shrugged and went into the bathroom to relieve himself. Clearly, Jazz had been trying to let him know something. But what? She was going to see friends? What friends? He didn't have a clue but was convinced she'd been trying to say that if she wasn't there when they left she'd catch up with them.

He finished in the bathroom, washing his hands and face then did as Barnette ordered, cuffing his left wrist to the metal bed frame. It was uncomfortable as hell, but he'd survive.

Barnette sat down on the other bed and pulled out his own phone. "Goddamn!" He cursed and slammed the phone down on the nightstand separating the beds.

"Forget to charge?" Conner asked idly, shoving both pillows behind his head to get comfortable.

"Gimme your phone. I gotta make a call."

"You're not using up my minutes."

"Give me the fucking phone!"

"Fine!" Conner tossed him the phone.

Barnette dialed and put the phone to his head. "Hey, it's Barnette. I got him."

He listened for a few moments then responded. "Yeah, gonna grab some sleep and get back on the road in the morning. Should be there around noon."

There was another pause before he said, "Yeah, well you just have my money ready."

He shut the phone with a satisfied smile and tossed it to Conner. "You're gonna earn me fifty large."

"I'll give you a hundred to uncuff me and walk away."

Barnette seemed to consider it then shook his head. "No deal. I skip on this and the dude has me waxed."

"Some boss you got there, Barnette."

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Whatever." Conner fell silent and closed his eyes. Barnette might be a bloodhound when it came to tracking someone down, but he didn't think things out clearly or he would never have given Conner back his phone.

Now all Conner had to do was wait for Barnette to go to sleep and he'd find out who Barnette answered to.

*****

Who Barnette answered to was the number one question on Jazz's list, and the one she posed to her contacts when she hooked up with them. She didn't call in favors often, and particularly not of these guys. They had too much history between them.

Before she'd gone civilian, she'd had the distinction of being one of the few women ever to be assigned to a Special Forces unit with the Army Rangers. She'd also made the mistake of falling for a team member. And when she watched him die in Algeria, it took the fight out of her and she quit the unit and left the service.

But one never really leaves that kind of unit and from time to time she'd lend a hand when they'd needed her. They were men who were loyal and trustworthy. Men who knew how to keep their mouths shut and who also had access to information and channels to go through to get it.

She found Adam Scott in a bar shooting pool. "Ten'll get you twenty that I can run the table before you get a shot," she said as she walked up behind him.

Adam turned with a grin on his face. "Well fuck me, Jazz Boudreaux." He enveloped her in a hug. "Where you been hidin', babe?"

"Oh you know, here and there," she replied, and held onto him. "I need a favor?"

"The kind we can talk about here?"

"I was thinking of somewhere a little more private."

Adam drew back and grabbed her face, planting a big wet kiss on her. She leaned into it, moving one hand around behind him to grab his ass.

"Woo, baby, time to take daddy home," he announced and tossed over his shoulder to the men around the table, "Catch you fellas later. Got me some business to take care of."

He grabbed a handful of Jazz's ass to punctuate his statement and she grinned. The men called out several ribald comments as Adam slung his arm over her shoulders and ushered her outside.

"What's up, babe?" he asked as soon as they were on the sidewalk.

"Remember Barnette?"

"Yeah, I recall that cocksucker."

"He's got someone. Someone important to me."

"Then let's go get this someone back."

"No. I need to know who's running Barnette. And I need weapons."

Adam studied her for a moment. "This professional or personal?"

"Both."

"You got wheels?"

She jerked her head in the direction of the Navigator. Adam whistled appreciatively. "You gonna let me drive this sweet ride?"

She tossed him the keys and headed for the passenger door. Once they were on the road, Adam made some calls. "We'll meet everyone at my place."

She nodded and leaned back against the seat, taking in a long deep breath. With luck by morning she'd have the answers she needed. Then she'd get Conner and deal with whoever was running Barnette.

*****

Conner's arm was numb from fingertips to shoulder when Barnette removed the hand-cuffs. Rubbing it and moving it around to restore circulation, he thought about what he'd discovered.

Barnette's call had been to Fred Mindleton. Conner was stunned that Fred would actually resort to such strong-arm tactics, but figured there must be a lot of money at stake for him to take such drastic measures. There was nothing that motivated Fred more than money.

The question was how to deal with it? He could shift and escape, or overpower Barnette. Alternately, he could dial 911 and let any dispatcher listen to a conversation between him and Barnette that left no doubt he was being held at gunpoint, but what would that solve? Mindleton would disavow any knowledge or involvement and had enough clout to weasel his way clear of legal entanglements.

But then the truth of what he was might get out and he wasn't about to run that risk. Besides, he wanted to know why Mindleton wanted him. And what about Jazz? It was almost dawn and he'd heard nothing else from her. Was she outside watching?

"Come on, get a move on!" Barnette grumbled.

Conner led the way to the car and got in behind the wheel. "Where to?"

"North."

Conner shrugged and did as ordered.

*****

Jazz was not a happy woman. "This is such a fubar!" She put her forearms down on the table and rested her forehead on her hands.

"It's the only way, Jazz," Adam assured her.

She looked up at him, sitting beside her, then across the table to the two suits. "No offense, but what you're asking is going to cost him his entire life. I can't agree to that for him."

"Miss Boudreaux," one of the suits said. "As we've explained over and again, we want to help. And we will. But you've got to play ball with us on this. Uncle Sam's offer is non-negotiable. Take it or leave it."

Jazz looked at Adam then at the rest of his team who were crowded into the small kitchen. Every one of the men she trusted and every one of them nodded their agreement.

Out of the blue, an idea popped into her head. A way to play both ends against the middle, and hopefully not burn her bridges with Adam and the others of his team. "Okay. Deal."

The suits stood and one offered his hand. "These men will make delivery after the mission is complete. Good luck, Miss Boudreaux."

She nodded and watched them leave then turned her attention to Adam. "I need weapons."

He grinned and looked at another of the team, a tall dark-skinned man with eyes as hard and dark as coal. The man picked up a pack and set it on the table.

Jazz opened it and grinned. "Come to mama," she cooed as she lifted the matched set of Glocks from the bag.

"Damn girl, you talk like that to me and I'll shoot for you," one of the guys quipped.

She chuckled. "Yeah, well if your barrel was as dependable as this one I might take you up on it."

Everyone laughed but quickly sobered as she strapped on the dual harness and shouldered the weapons.

"You can't take anyone out until we have the goods," Adam reminded her. "And Burns' signature on this document." He tapped the paper on the table.

"I got it." She picked up the paper and folded it small enough to fit in the pocket of her jeans then checked the LoJack remote. "They're on the move."

Adam nodded and handed her an ear-set Comm. unit. "Newest model. Virtually unlimited range thanks to satellite. Five-minute updates on their location until rendezvous."

"Done," she replied and slipped the set on her left ear. "See ya."

He nodded and she gave the others a nod then left the house. Conner was going to shit a gold brick when he found out what she'd gotten him into. And she might just have set in motion something that would chain-react and create the future that she wanted to prevent.

She got into the SUV and started it. What was she to do? Go back on her word and double-cross Adam and his team and the men she'd just made the deal with? Try to save Conner on her own and hide him away where no one could find him?Or go through with the deal and hope Conner didn't hate her guts, and that she'd made the right choice for the future.

"You paying any attention to this at all?" she asked, hoping Stanzia could hear."' Cause I sure could use some advice right about now."

There was no sign, no sudden flash of light, voice from above or anything. Just the sound of the engine idling. With a grimace, she pulled out her cell phone and called up Severin's number.

He answered on the second ring.

"Jasmine?"

"I need your help."

"I'm listening."

With a grin, Jazz explained the situation. When she finished, Severin spoke quickly.

"Give me half an hour. I'll call you."

With that the call ended. Hoping she hadn't just made a bad situation worse, she then dialed Conner's number.

*****

Conner and Barnette were heading north. The sun had crested the horizon and it promised to be a beautiful day. At least in terms of weather. His phone rang. He looked at Barnette who was checking the caller ID on the dashboard.

"Fuckin' bitch never gives up," he grumbled. "Answer the damn thing."

Conner punched the speaker button. "What?"

"I don't see my car."

"Surprise, surprise."

"Look, stud, I know I was a little harsh but this shit is getting old. We had some good times, a few good fucks. It was fun and now it's over. Let's be adults, okay? I just want what's mine."

"You'll get it."

"Yeah, when? Conner, seriously. Time to cut a deal. You dig?"

"What kind of deal? Seems to me I have what you want. What've you got to offer except for a sweet ass, which I've already sampled?"