They found this seedy little motel five miles out of Tanner’s Crossroads. A thirty-five-dollar-a-night, eight-unit dump with only two other cars in the lot, the red neon vacancy sign sputtering toward death. Harris got the room, acting like a lone traveler. Three guys this time of night might have ramped up the manager’s radar. Fortunately, according to Harris, the man behind the counter was old, sleepy, and engrossed in some stupid laugh-tracked show on the wall-mounted TV behind the counter. Hardly gave Harris a second look. Didn’t even ask for ID. Simply took the money and handed him the key, mumbling, “Number eight, down at the end.”
Navarro flopped on one of the two single beds. “What’s the plan?”
“I need to call Frankie,” Dalton said. “Bring him up to speed.”
Harris dropped in a chair. “He’ll blow a freaking gasket.”
“I know. But I need to see how he wants to handle things now.”
“I say we take care of business and get the hell out of here.”
Navarro gave a grunt. “I sort of agree with Dale.”
“Good thing it isn’t your decision.” Dalton looked from Navarro to Harris. “I need to check in with Frankie. Get some information. Info only Frankie can get right now, and not jump into something until we have a plan. We don’t know all the players involved. All the moving parts. We don’t know the town. So, first order of business is to call Frankie. See how he wants it to go down.” He again looked back and forth between the two men. “Unless you think we should bypass Frankie and go our own way.”
Neither Navarro nor Harris responded.
“Didn’t think so.”
“I just want to get this done,” Navarro said.
“I do, too,” Dalton said. “I also want to make sure my brother makes it to Memphis.”
“And Jessie?” Navarro asked. “What’re you going to do about that douche bag?”
“Drop him in Frankie’s hands. I’m sure he’ll have some creative ideas along that line.”
“Which means we can write his sorry ass off.”
“Probably.”
“No probably about it,” Harris said. “Frankie won’t put up with this shit.”
Dalton nodded his agreement. “It’s possible Frankie will want us to cut our losses and clear out. I doubt it, but it’s possible. If he wants us to clean up things around here, we’ll have our work cut out,” Dalton said. “Three targets, maybe four. None likely in the same place. In a town we don’t know.”
“Jason and the girl should be easy,” Navarro said. “They’ll have the doc on lock down.”
“And he’s the one that can do the most harm,” Dalton said. “He’s seen me. Dennie and Jessie, too.”
“The girl saw you guys,” Harris said.
“Apparently so. That’s why she has to go down.”
“But none of them has seen us,” Navarro said, waving a hand toward Harris.
“That’s why you two will be the eyes and ears on this,” Dalton said. “Until we’re set up.”
Harris stood, jangled the car keys from his pocket. “I’ll go get us some food.”
“Grab some beer,” Navarro added.
“No beer,” Dalton said. “I need you guys clear headed.”
“A beer won’t be no problem,” Navarro said.
“Just food and soft drinks.” Dalton looked at Harris. “Be cool. Stay under the speed limit and don’t do anything stupid.”
“Me?” Harris said. “I’m just a hungry tourist.”
Harris left. Dalton called Frankie. He could tell Frankie was at his club—music and laughter in the background. Frankie told him to hold tight, headed into the quiet of his office.
“Tell me,” Frankie said.
Dalton laid it out. Frankie said little, a bad sign. He wasn’t pleased but a plan unfolded. He would call when Dennie, Bud, and Jessie arrived. He would handle Jessie. Show what happens when someone is a major fuck up. A teaching opportunity for everyone else was Frankie’s take. He would also call his Tanner’s Crossroads contact and get the skinny on the targets. Should have everything ready to roll in a couple of hours.
CHAPTER 57
When they reached the ER, Cain saw the medics cleaning and preparing their vehicle for the next call. Cassie stopped and asked if all went smoothly and they assured her it had. Cain and Harper entered, followed by Cassie, Hack, and Buck. A nurse stood behind the registration counter, phone to her ear. She hung up and turned toward them, and almost shrieked when she saw Buck. Her name tag revealed she was J. Campbell, RN.
“Dr. Buckner,” she said. “You’re back. We’ve been so worried.”
“Me, too,” Buck said. He smiled. “Sorry I missed dinner.”
She rounded the nurse’s station counter and hugged him. “You have a rain check for sure.” She looked at the others. “He was supposed to come over for dinner but he stood us up.” She raised an eyebrow, smiled. “Some kidnapping story.”
Buck introduced Cain and Harper to Joanie Campbell.
“Where are the two guys that came in?” Cassie asked.
“Room one and room three. Dr. Padilla is with the injured guy.”
Buck led everyone toward Trauma Room 1 and introduced Dr. Pedro Padilla. “How’s he doing?” Buck asked, indicating Dennie who lay on the stretcher, his eyes now open.
“Amazingly well.” He pointed to Dennie’s surgical wound. “You did this?”
“On a dining room table. You should’ve been there. I could’ve used your help.”
Pedro shook his head. “I’m impressed.”
“Lucky,” Buck said. He looked at Dennie. “And you’re a very lucky guy.”
“Not sure I see it that way,” Dennie said. His speech was still slightly thick from the morphine and Versed Buck had given him earlier.
Buck gave a quick nod. “Actually, I think we’re all lucky. You, Jessie, me. I figured Dalton would shoot us, take off, and be done with it.”
“Show’s what you know,” Dennie said. “He’s my brother. He wouldn’t do that.”
Buck stepped forward, gripped the stretcher’s
