The bartender glanced our way, and I gave him an easy smile. Nothing to see here, Ian. He watched us for a second longer, then went back to wiping glasses with his grungy towel.
“I can’t take it,” I repeated, leaning a little closer so I could speak in a quieter voice. “I may have tricked her into thinking she’s in love with me, but I know I’m in love with her. I can’t take this book because it’s the only thing protecting you from Pop. Something tells me he wants more than just that book. If you give it back to him, it won’t be the end. Only the beginning.”
“And I’m supposed to believe you care what happens to me?”
“Whatever Pop does to you, it’ll hurt her. You forget, I know what it’s like not to have a father around. I’m not going to let that happen to her.”
Tommy stared at me as if he couldn’t decide whether to kick my ass or write me into his will. After a few seconds, he slid the ledger back into the briefcase. “This doesn’t mean I’m going to let you see Spencer,” he said, securing the brass latch on the front flap of the case.
“I know. I can’t keep lying to her, and if I tell her the truth, she wouldn’t want to see me anyway. That’s not why I’m doing this.”
“Why are you doing this?”
I slid from the barstool. “I told you. Whatever happens to you hurts Spencer. I’m not going to be a part of that. No matter what you did to my da.”
He frowned skeptically. “And that’s it. That’s all you’re after?”
“Well, there is something I was wondering about.”
“What’s that?”
“You said I’d never be able to guess the combination to your safe, but it’s a number I should know. I just wondered what it was.”
“You want me to tell you my safe combination?” Tommy laughed.
“Hey, you just handed me the book, and I gave it back. I’d say the chances of me trying to get into your safe again are pretty low.”
“Fair enough,” Tommy said. “It’s 1031.” Tommy stood and grabbed his suitcase. He fished a ten-dollar bill from his coat pocket and tossed it onto the bar. “Have a good trip home, Shay. I look forward to never seeing you again.”
Without a backward glance to me, Tommy waved his goodbye to Ian and the pregnant hostess, then pushed through the heavy doors and disappeared. I stood next to my own stool, rolling the numbers around in my head. 1031. Ten thirty-one. The numbers were definitely familiar, as Tommy’d predicted, but damned if I could figure out why.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
THE THUNDERING KNOCK jarred me from the sleep I hadn’t meant to fall into. I sat bolt upright on the sofa where I’d dozed and blinked, trying to figure out what had woken me. The pounding came again, rattling the door in its frame. I rubbed my eyes and squinted in the dim light.
Apparently, it had gotten dark sometime between leaving Tommy at the bar and now. Shit. I was going to have to hurry if I was going to make my bus.
Another knock.
“I’m coming! Christ.”
I reached for the knob and had barely turned it when the door burst open and Tommy barreled through, knocking me into the wall as he went past.
“Where is she, you lying sack of shit? I can’t believe I bought all that crap about how much you cared about her.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I tried to play catch up. Nothing about this made sense.
“Why didn’t you take the book when I offered it to you? Isn’t that what you came for?”
“It was, but—”
“What do you think you’re going to get out of me by taking her?”
I shook my head. I had to be dreaming. “Tommy, what are you—”
“What kind of coward kidnaps a nineteen-year-old girl? Goddamn it, Shay, tell me where she is. Now.” Tommy turned on me suddenly and grabbed my shirt in both hands. He slammed my back against the wall, and only the tips of my toes scraped the floor. “Tell me.”
I couldn’t do more than blink at him. She? Kidnap? “Tommy, I swear I don’t know what you’re talking about. Did something happen to Spencer?”
“Like you don’t know.”
My mind switched from blank to panicked in under a second. I shoved him back and heard my shirt tear as patches of the fabric went with him. “I don’t. I left you at the bar and came straight back here. My bus leaves for New Orleans—” I checked the wall clock. “—in one hour.” I pointed to the ticket still on the table where I’d dropped it.
Tommy glanced down at the ticket, then back up at me. “Is that supposed to prove something?”
“I’m not sure what you want me to prove. Tear the place apart if you want, but she’s not here. What’s this shit about kidnapping?”
“What do you think? I got the voicemail message your friend left,” Tommy said. He shoved a hand into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled a thin, black phone from inside. He slid his thumb across the screen, flicked at a small green icon, and held the phone up for me to hear. Judd’s voice was gleeful as it played through the speaker: “Well, hey there, Saint Thomas. I’d say it’s a pleasure, but to be honest, it makes me sick even to be talking to the recording of a dirty snake like you. But I guess sometimes we all gotta get down on our bellies, don’t we? See, the thing is, you have something I want, and now I have something you want. I would suggest you call me back at your earliest convenience. Assuming you ever want to see this tasty little daughter of yours again.” Judd paused. There was the unmistakable sound of a woman—of Spencer—sobbing. Then it was muffled again by a closing door. I was sure then that I would kill him. I didn’t care if it took me the rest of my life; I would snap his neck with my bare hands before I took my last breath. The message continued. “But Tommy, no rush. I’m sure Cherry and I can do something to pass the time.” I could practically feel his windpipe collapse under my fingers.
“You’re telling me you had nothing to do with this?” Tommy asked, though he’d clearly made up his mind already.
“Tommy, I swear I didn’t.”
“But you know who did.”
I hesitated. I might not have directly helped Judd, but I was the reason he was here. “Judd Sheedy,” I said. “He came up a few weeks after me to make sure I got the job done.”
“Michael’s youngest boy?” Tommy sounded incredulous. “You’re telling me he pulled this off on his own? That little asshat couldn’t keep the drool in his mouth the last time I saw him.”
“Still can’t. But he’s crazy as hell, and there’s no telling what he’ll do to Spencer if we don’t find him fast.”
“Do you have any idea where he might have taken her?” Tommy looked sick at the idea of asking me for help, but he was out of options.
“I don’t—” I stopped. My eyes flickered to the matchbook still on the table where Judd had left it.
Telling Tommy where Judd had taken Spencer was as good as drawing a line in the sand and then doing the long jump right over it, but I was out of options too. Spencer’s safety was the only thing that mattered. I walked to the table and slid the matchbook off of it, then turned it over in my palm. I tossed it to Tommy, and he caught it in one hand and looked down at it.
“How fast can you get us there?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
TOMMY DRUMMED NERVOUS fingers on the leather-wrapped steering wheel of his Lexus. “Are you sure they’re in there?”
“That’s his car.” I pointed to the black sedan in the spot next to us. “And the clerk says a guy matching Judd’s description checked in earlier today and hasn’t left his room since.” I stared at the green door through the windshield. Room 19. “They’re in there.”