Seduced by Sunday
Page 74

Meg watched as Val and Rick argued. She didn’t add that Alonzo had mandated that she be on board.
“When you boys finish arguing, you can find me at the warehouse.” Without more, Meg left the office and went out of the building.
Val caught up with her two minutes later. He left Rick back long enough for him to call Neil and put into action some sort of plan.
Margaret was right, however, sitting around and acting as if they weren’t compliant wasn’t going to ensure Gabi’s safe return.
Val darted around Margaret and pulled her along a shortcut to the warehouse. One that wouldn’t be littered with guests. “This way.”
She followed, held his hand tight, and shifted her eyes behind them. “I hate to think someone is watching us.”
“I will fire everyone. Start over.”
“This is crazy. He is crazy. His words were even and practiced, but I could hear the panic between his words.”
“I wish we knew if he was the dealer, or the delivery man. If he’s only transporting, then the dealer is looking for his drugs.”
Margaret slowed and met his eyes. “And how is it you know the ins and outs of drug dealing?”
Val offered a dry grin. “I grew up in New York. Everyone knew someone. Small dealers become big dealers if they don’t take their own crap. If Alonzo is the delivery man, then someone is probably threatening him.”
“That makes him desperate,” she said.
“Desperate men are dangerous.”
They rounded the corner to the warehouse and slowed their pace.
“Something else Alonzo said has me puzzled. He kept calling Gabi his wife, his bride. Not in the sense that she was his future bride, but as if they were already married.”
Val stopped walking altogether.
Margaret moved beside him.
“Gabi wouldn’t—”
“Gabi is higher than the moon. There’s no telling what she’s done.”
Val ran a hand through his thick hair. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe if she’s tied to him, and he gets his shit back, then he can keep her, you . . . all of us quiet? Who knows the thoughts of a psycho?”
“We need more time, cara. Time to learn his plan.”
Margaret glanced at the watch on her wrist. “We have forty minutes. Think fast.”
Val pulled her along, shouting orders the minute he reached the ears of his employees in the warehouse.
The off-island charter was pulled along his dock. Captain Stephan stood to the side of the ramps that allowed passengers on and off the ship. Only passengers weren’t coming or going. In fact, the charter didn’t normally sit on the dock at this hour.
“Stay here,” he told Margaret as he released her hand.
She looked at the boat and lost color in her cheeks.
It took divine intervention not to throw Stephan into the turquoise waters of the Keys.
Stephan tracked Val’s approach with his eyes . . . a smug smile on his face.
Without thought, Val reached a hand up to Stephan’s throat the moment he stopped in front of the man, and squeezed. “I don’t know what he promised you, but I will promise you this. I will find you and you will pay.”
Something hard bit into Val’s side. Instead of looking, he eased his grip. Of course, the captain would have a gun. Drugs and guns were synonymous, weren’t they?
“Good choice, Valentino.” Stephan rolled his head on his shoulders once Val let him go. “Now, don’t you have some packing to do?”
Val’s fists itched to fly.
They didn’t. Maintaining control was paramount. He knew that.
Shifting his focus, he moved back to Margaret’s side. Her skin hadn’t recovered her normal color and she stared at the boat as if it had grown horns.
The two of them moved back into the warehouse and down into the wine vault. Rick was there, coordinating the packing effort.
Rick was shouting orders, and Val’s men fell in place.
Margaret sat on the far end of the cellar, her phone in her hand.
Signaling Rick over, Val said in hushed tones, “If we give this over, there’s no need for him to keep Gabi alive.”
Rick leaned forward and whispered. “Look closer.”
The staff stacked the pallets, but as they did, they pulled crates of wine that didn’t belong to Alonzo in the center surrounded by the crates holding the drugs. The ratio of missing drugs would be a third.
“Leverage?”
Rick nodded. “Neil is assembling backup. He’s offshore.”
Val clenched his fist. “Feels like a trap. I don’t like any of this.”
“Have a better idea?”
“Call the police?”
Rick offered a smile and a wink. “Neil has done one better.”
Val hoped to hell that Rick and his friends were more than just talk.
Margaret caught his attention again. She shivered. Reluctant to let her out of his sight, he removed his jacket from one of the wine racks he’d carelessly tossed it on hours before, and placed it over her shoulders.
“Thanks,” she managed.
Val kissed her forehead. She was a strong woman, but it was obvious that everything was taking its toll on her. “Do you need your inhaler?”
She shook her head. “My new daily meds have made big changes. Don’t worry about me.”
That wouldn’t be possible. Val knelt in front of her and captured her cold hands in his.
“I’m sorry this happened, Val.”
“None of this is your fault.”
She didn’t look convinced.
The last of the crates were packed onto a pallet and wrapped before a mini forklift removed them.