the radio, which was set to low volume and serenading us with yet another tune from the sixties. A little over five blocks and a single left hand turn later, we arrived at our destination.
We were at the end of a cul-de-sac where a large building sat back from the street. Near the curb, a lighted marquee sat atop a substantial signpost. Across it was emblazoned the name of the establishment- The Whine Cellar. Beyond the curb was a large gravel parking lot.
Ben pulled the van in through the entrance and slowly urged it along the rows of vehicles. The expanse was fairly well lit overall, and we both scanned either side of the aisle for Felicity’s Jeep. We had just made a turn at the end and were coming back up the other side when my friend broke his silence.
“What’s that up there?”
I abandoned my own search and looked over to where he was pointing. A few spaces from the end of the row sat a familiar looking boxy shape.
“Yeah. Could be,” I agreed.
My friend sped up slightly and came to a halt behind the black Jeep Wrangler. I didn’t even need to see the license plate. The pentacle on the spare tire cover and the “Magick Happens” bumper sticker told me all that I needed to know.
For the first time since we’d left the house, I felt like I was breaking out of the calm daze. My heart jumped in my chest, and I let out a relieved breath.
“It’s hers,” I said aloud.
“I’m gonna call this in,” Ben announced as he reached into a pocket and withdrew his cell phone.
I objected immediately, snatching up the device out of his hand before he even flipped it open. “No, don’t!”
“What the! Whaddaya mean don’t?”
“Let’s just go in and get her.”
“Wake up, Rowan, she might be packin’.”
“I doubt it.”
“Hey, no offense, but Constance said she took her sidearm. I gotta take that into account. There’re civilians in there and we don’t need anyone gettin’ hurt. You, me, her, or them. Now gimme my phone.”
“Let’s try it my way first,” I pressed. “I don’t want a bunch of trigger happy cops shooting my wife.”
“You been watchin’ too much TV again,” he returned and reached for the phone in my hand.
I jerked it out of the way and replied, “I’ve been watching the news.”
Ben snorted angrily and made another grab for me as he barked, “Gimme the goddamned phone, Rowan!”
He had long arms, but I’d been expecting him to do exactly this, and I already had my hand on the door handle. I popped the release and rolled out of the vehicle narrowly escaping his lunge. I backpedaled away from the van then turned and started walking as briskly as I could toward the entrance.
Behind me I heard the sound of gravel spitting as Ben gunned the engine and spun the tires. The angry sound was followed immediately by the thump of the passenger door as the effect of Newton’s third law caused it to pivot in the opposite direction and slam shut. I picked up the pace, but a moment later he swung the van around the opposite end of the aisle and barreled toward me.
For a split second, I thought he was going to run me down, and I ducked quickly between two vehicles. I looked back and saw him suddenly brake then whip the Chevy hard to the left and pull it into an empty parking space. I told myself I needed to keep moving, but for some reason my legs wouldn’t respond. I simply stood there and waited.
The vehicle’s lights went out, and the engine sputtered as he switched it off. His own door was already creaking open before the last cough from the exhaust had died away. I heard my friend slam his door hard then watched as he stomped around and re-secured the passenger side which had not completely shut. That done, he turned around and simply stared at me across the top of the parked cars, then after a heartbeat or two, he shook his head and walked purposefully toward where I was standing.
Still, I didn’t move. I simply waited. I knew I couldn’t outrun him at this point even with a head start. I did, however, slip the cell phone into my jacket and zip the pocket shut.
When Ben came to a halt in front of me, he didn’t look happy. The harsh shadows from the overhead light weren’t helping, that was for sure, but I knew he was definitely pissed off. He sighed then opened his mouth and thrust his index finger at me. Whatever he was about to say apparently stuck somewhere between his brain and his throat, so he just closed his mouth and shook his head again.
Finally, he muttered, “Fuckit,” and started toward the entrance. As he walked he called over his shoulder to me, “Just keep your damn mouth shut and let me handle this.”
CHAPTER 30:
“There a problem here?” the man asked.
We hadn’t even made it through the front door of the establishment before we were stopped. In fact, by the time we hit the bottom of the stairs, the bald meatloaf, clad in a faded military jacket, was waiting for us on the landing. He had positioned himself between the door and us, and it was obvious that we were going to need to run his gauntlet before gaining entry.
Under different circumstances I’m sure Ben would have simply used his size and badge to bully his way past a bouncer, but it was clear that this guy wouldn’t be easy to intimidate. He looked to be only a few inches shorter than my friend, and that put him well over six feet himself. But, more importantly, what he lacked in height he made up for in muscle mass; at least, that is how he appeared; and I wasn’t interested in trying to disprove it. I got the feeling that Ben wasn’t either.
I had to say that security here was better than some airports I’d been in.
“No problem,” my friend returned.
“Really.”
“Yeah, really.”
The human barricade nodded in the direction of the van then looked back to Ben. “Then what was the show all about?”
“Minor disagreement,” he returned. “Mind if we go in now? It’s kinda cold out here.”
“What are you two doing here?”
“Whaddaya mean?”
“Did I stutter?” The man followed his question with a cold stare, sizing us both up with his eyes.
“It’s the east side. What does anyone do here?”
“I think you gentlemen should leave now,” he stated simply.
“We’d like to have a drink first,” Ben offered up as an objection.
“This is a private club,” the man returned. “And, I don’t recognize either of you as members.”
“Okay, so where do we sign up?”
“I already told you nicely, I think you need to leave. I don’t want to have to tell you again.”
“Listen, buddy, I really didn’t wanna get into it with ya’,” Ben said as he played the cop card, pulling open his jacket to reveal the gold shield clipped to his belt.
The bouncer glanced at the badge then back to my friend’s face without ever changing his expression. “Uh- huh, I’ve got one of those too. Gotta love the internet.”
“Yeah, asshole?” Ben snipped, finally losing his patience as he pulled out his formal ID and displayed it. “Thing is, mine’s real.”
The man took the identification and inspected it closely before handing it back to him then said with a shake of his head. “Okay, so? You think being a cop automatically gets you in the door?”
I had been keeping my mouth shut just like I had been told, but the pissing match between the two of them was becoming too much for me. The wave of calm that had overtaken me earlier had now faded into the background, and I was getting edgier by the second. At the rate these two were going, we could be standing here all night, and I simply wasn’t interested in waiting.
