it. “Pauley? You’re here to do math. Let’s get in the truck, out of the rain, and we can do math somewhere else. It doesn’t have to be here.”
Pauley looked up and saw the gun at my head. He ducked his and then walked around us to get in the truck. “Do not shoot my cousin.”
Spider shoved me across the front bench seat. “Any of you move back there, and I shoot her.” He jumped in beside me and rolled down the window. “Whitaker? Get your ass in the backseat of the truck. We have to figure out a better route system before we distribute later today.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Pauley will do more math for us.”
“Let Anna go,” Pauley said, kicking the back of the seat. “Let go. Anna go. Going is good. Birds go. Let Anna go.”
Melvin hesitated. “I need to check on the lab. Haven’t heard from my techs, and there was a power outage last night. We don’t want to lose any product.”
A power outage in the secret lab? Where had power outages been in town? Or in the county? I had to find out.
Spider shook his head. “Now, Whitaker. We’ll worry about your lab later.”
Melvin gave him a look and then walked around the other side to sit next to Thelma, his shotgun now pointed at the floor.
“No. My cousin goes. Now. No,” Pauley continued his litany, rocking back and forth.
“I’m okay, P,” I lied, considering Spider now had the gun in my ribs. Grease opened the driver’s door, sat, and ignited the engine. My gaze darted around the quiet subdivision. How was it possible to kidnap four people without anybody seeing? There was nobody in sight. Just stubborn rain, perfectly manicured lawns, and a lot of bright flowers getting really wet.
That quickly, we drove out of the retirement community and onto the road, heading toward I-90. “Where are you taking us?” I asked, my voice shaking. I needed to throw up.
“We don’t have a lot of choices here,” Grease said, pressing harder on the gas pedal.
“You’re a fucking idiot,” Spider muttered. “Shooting a cop.”
Grease hunched his shoulders. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Yeah, you did,” I countered. Could I get these two fighting? There had to be a way to save Pauley and the women. Thelma cried softly in the backseat, while Georgiana remained silent, eyeing the doors. Good. She’d be ready to go if I made a move.
Pauley kicked my seat, his body hunched over, his gaze on his notebook.
We drove onto I-90 toward Washington state, and my hope of anybody seeing us leave disappeared. We were on our own.
Chapter 39
I was a little relieved when Grease took the exit nearest the border and wound through the residential area toward the Lorde’s apartment complex, remaining in Idaho. At least they weren’t taking us out in the woods somewhere to shoot. Yet. For now, they seemed to need Pauley. “I saw your map,” I said to Spider. “How are you transporting the drugs?”
“You talk too much.” He shoved the gun harder into my ribs.
I lowered my voice. “You can’t seriously be considering hurting Pauley and these two nice ladies.” It was unthinkable.
“I’ve done worse,” he said, his voice grim. “So has your boyfriend.”
Aiden wouldn’t hurt me. It went against everything I knew about his pathology. Spider, on the other hand, obviously had no problem with the idea.
We pulled into the parking area of the complex, which was deserted in the heavy rain. The garage doors were closed.
“We should do this somewhere else,” Grease said. “Away from our base.”
Icicles pricked up along my skin, and I trembled. He was serious. I started to panic when the sound of motorcycle pipes echoed against the building. Aiden roared up, swinging his bike around to park. He strode for the truck and yanked open the driver’s door, grabbing Grease by the neckline and jerking him from the truck. “What did you do?” he growled.
Grease swung out, and Aiden caught his fist with one hand, the sound harsh, even over the loud purring of the truck engine.
I gulped.
Rain matted Aiden’s wet hair to his head, and his eyes blazed an avenging blue. In his leather cut, with the storm waging around him, he looked furious. Hell, he was furious. “Get out, Whitaker.”
Melvin audibly gulped and stepped out of the truck; the shotgun pointed down but still looking deadly. “I don’t want any part of this. I’m a chemist. That’s all. I’m not a murderer.”