Thirty-Two and a Half Complications
Page 99

Jed stopped the car in front of a large barn, like he was dropping us off at the red carpet at the Academy Awards. Skeeter opened his door and slid out, holding his hand out to me and pretending to be a gentleman. I nearly snorted, but I took his hand anyway, hoping my tight dress wouldn’t slide up and flash my underwear to the world. Granted they were black lace and sexy, but those were for Mason’s eyes only. Not the riff-raff of Fenton County.
When I was out, Skeeter shut the door and Jed drove off to park with the other twenty-some odd cars that were parked behind the barn, blocked from view of the road. Skeeter lifted his bent arm and bowed his head with a playful grin. “Shall we?”
Releasing a sigh, I let him escort me to the entrance. The barn’s double doors were open, but the entrance was sectioned off with folding screens that blocked the view inside. A table with two men sat to the right, just inside the doors. One of the men had a metal box in front to him and the other had a leather ledger; together, they were signing people in and collecting money. Two more guys were patting down the entrants before they were allowed inside. Several men and a few women were in line ahead of us.
“You have to pay up front?” I whispered in surprise. “How do you know how much to pay?”
“It’s a deposit. Five thousand dollars to show you’re an actual contender, plus a thousand-dollar fee to take part. And the winner is expected to pay up the balance once they’ve won.”
“What happens if you win and don’t have the money with you?”
He waggled his eyebrows. “You don’t want to know.”
I swallowed, trying to stave off another fit of nausea. “What’s to keep someone from stealing the money?”
“Them.” He gestured to two men who were standing in the shadows behind the table, both carrying machine guns.
“Oh.”
He chuckled and leaned close to my ear. “You’re very curious. I think I’ve underestimated you again.”
“Again?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, the guy with the ledger waved to Skeeter, and we bypassed the ten people in front of us and approached the table. Skeeter handed them a wad of hundred-dollar bills. They counted them and placed them in the metal box, then wrote Skeeter’s name in the ledger. The guy looked up at me. “And your guest’s name?”
“That’s none of your damn business.” Skeeter’s eyes narrowed and the burly man at the table actually looked intimidated.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Malcolm, but they’re Bull’s orders. To make sure no informants show up. Every person who enters has to have someone vouch for them.”
“Do you think I’m stupid enough to bring in someone who would set us up?” His voice rose and his eyes widened. “Do I look like an idiot to you?”
“No, sir. But I still need a name.”
Skeeter looked like he was about to reach over and snap the man’s neck. Literally, not figuratively.
The guy hunched over his ledger. “How about Lady in Black?”
Skeeter’s back straightened. “Good. And I have three more guests coming.”
“Each person who’s bidding is allowed only three guests, Mr. Malcolm. No exceptions,” he said as he handed Skeeter an auction paddle.
Skeeter seemed less concerned with this rule. “Fine. Jed and Merv.” He turned to me. “Your man will have to wait outside.”
I was thankful he didn’t name Bruce Wayne, and the more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. Bruce Wayne was walking across the parking lot toward us, although I didn’t see his car anywhere. Where had he parked? I pulled out my phone and texted him.
You’re waiting outside.
He looked at his phone and then up at me, shaking his head then texting: Together or nothing
He was throwing my words back at me.
We’re still together, but it’s better if you don’t come in… People might link you to me and Skeeter. And they’re patting people down and making them leave their weapons outside. If there’s trouble it will be outside.
Besides, we don’t have a choice, I added for good measure.
He watched me for several seconds.
Okay, he finally wrote.
One of the men started to pat Skeeter down and the other told me to turn around.
Skeeter pointed his finger at the guard next to me. “If you touch her in any way that would be considered inappropriate, I will personally cut off your fingers.”
The man gulped. “Yes, sir.”
I stared at Skeeter, my jaw dropping in shock. What was that all about?
It would have been easy for me to creatively smuggle in a weapon considering the quick appraisal I was given. The guy barely touched me before declaring that I was good to go.
Whether I wanted to be here or not, what I saw fascinated me. I’d mistaken it for a warehouse in my vision, but I realized now it was because the space was larger than a typical barn. There were more people here than I’d expected, but assuming everyone had brought their plus-threes, I estimated there were only about ten bidders. Skeeter moved to the back of the crowd, making it easier for me to see everyone.
“What’s your number?” I asked, wondering how I could have been so stupid.
Skeeter held up his paddle. “Nine.”
“I saw the number of the guy who outbid you. His number was fourteen. It may have changed from my vision—it happens—but everything else is as I remember it.”