drugs. But don’t worry, it’ll pass quickly.”
“Drugs?” Ariane mumbled.
“Yeah, sis, I said drugs.” The female paused to let the information sink in.
? Did she say
? Why the hell would this person call her
?
Oh, God! The reason suddenly dawned on her.
“Tonya? Is that you?”
Tonya Edwards looked down at Ariane and attempted to smile. “Of course it’s me-unless you have another sister that you’ve been hiding.”
“No, but . . .” The presence of her pregnant older sister only added to Ariane’s confusion. Tonya lived in Colorado. What in the world was she doing in Pittsburgh? “Why are you here? Is something wrong?”
It was the understatement of the year.
“Yeah, sis, I’d say something is wrong.”
Ariane swallowed, the bitter taste of bile still in her mouth. “Is it the baby?”
“The baby, Robert, you, me. Pretty much everything.” Tonya tried to lower herself to the floor, but her belly prevented it. “I’m not sure why, but our family’s been kidnapped.”
SLIGHTLY banged up but happy to be alive, the two friends walked to their rented Mustang in total silence. As they strolled past the ancient cemetery, Payne shuddered slightly, realizing how close he’d come to his own funeral. If the sniper had been a little more accurate, Payne and Jones would’ve been returning to Pittsburgh in wooden crates, not in the comfort of a private jet.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Jones said, studying his silent friend. “Are you all right?”
Payne nodded as he slid into the car. “As good as can be expected.”
After strapping himself in, Payne allowed his mind to drift back to the incident at the tattoo shop. Even though the shooting was unexpected, Payne knew that Ariane’s kidnappers were bound to become aware of his presence. But the big question was, how? How did they find out about him so quickly? Was there a spy at the airport? At the Fishing Hole? Or was the late-night gunplay an unlucky coincidence? Maybe Sam’s death had been ordered several days before, and the sniper just happened to show up at the same time they did. Sam was the first one eliminated, so maybe he was the number one priority of the hit. Maybe the Plantation Posse, or some unrelated gang, had been planning to silence him for an entirely different reason. Even though it seemed unlikely, it was a possibility.
Shit, in New Orleans, anything was possible. One trip to Mardi Gras would prove that.
“By the way,” Jones asked, “where are we going? Or are you planning on driving around this city until someone starts shooting at us again?”
“That’s not what I had in mind, but now that you mention it, that’s better than anything I can come up with.”
“Stumped already?”
“I wouldn’t say stumped, but I’m pretty confused. There are simply too many variables floating around in my mind right now. And I can’t figure out which ones are important.”
“I was thinking the same thing. There are lots of questions and very few answers.”
“You’re right about that. However, two things are bothering me more than anything else. I can’t figure them out for the life of me.”
“And they are?”
“Number one, if Ariane was kidnapped for money, why the hell would the Posse try to kill me? I’m the one with the bank account. Why eliminate me? My death would instantly take away their chance of a big payday.”
Jones nodded. It was a thought that hadn’t entered his mind. “You’re right. That’s a pretty big issue, one that I can’t answer. What’s number two? Maybe I can help you with that.”
“That one’s even more confusing. Where the hell is Levon?”
CHAPTER 24
BECAUSE
of his size and the weapon he carried, Levon Greene showed no fear as he walked through Louis Armstrong Park. Like most American cities, New Orleans had a policy against large, gun-toting black men walking in its city parks after midnight. But Greene knew he was in no danger of being stopped since most cops were at Sam’s Tattoos, trying to solve that shooting.
As he emerged from the darkness of the tree-lined sidewalks, Greene tucked his pistol in the waistband of his Dockers, concealing it completely under his shirt. Despite the early-morning hour, up-tempo funk leaked from Don na’s Bar and Grill, a famous jazz club off of St. Ann Street. A group of well-dressed men and women waited to show the bouncer their IDs. Greene didn’t have the patience to linger in line, so he shook the hand of the starstruck guard and slipped inside without delay.
Celebrity had some privileges.
Since the sniper had prevented him from using the bathroom at Sam’s, Greene quickly made his way to the rear of the club while trying to conceal his identity from as many people as he could. He simply didn’t have time to sign autographs for anyone at the moment. There were more pressing matters on his mind-and his lower colon-to deal with. After making his way into the restroom, Greene found himself angered by his phone, which started to ring the moment he turned the lock on his stall door.
“Who’s this?” he demanded.
“This is D.J.,” Jones said, relieved. “Are you all right?”
The call was completely unexpected, like hearing the voice of a ghost, and it took Greene a moment to catch his breath. “Am
all right? I think the better question is, are
all right? I thought you were dead for sure! I can’t believe you’re alive! Did Jon make it, too?”
“He’s fine. He’s sitting next to me.”
“I’ll be a son of a bitch,” Greene muttered. From the number of bullets fired, he assumed nobody in the front of the shop could’ve survived. And if someone had, he figured they’d be bleeding all over intensive care by now. “How about Sam? Did he make it?”
“I’m afraid not. The first shot took him out clean. He didn’t have a chance.”
“What about the next one hundred shots? What the hell did they hit?”
“Everything but us,” Jones admitted. “I guess our military training helped us escape.”
“Training? What kind of training teaches you to dodge bullets? Are you guys fucking ninjas?”
“I swear I never fucked a ninja in my life.” Jones chuckled, hoping that Greene understood his joke. “The truth is, luck played a bigger role in our safety than I’m willing to admit.”
“Man, how lucky can two guys get?”
“Speaking of lucky, how did you get out of there? I could’ve sworn we left you in Sam’s bathroom. When we went to save you, you weren’t in there. How did you pull that one off?”
Greene smiled as he thought about his easy escape, but it was a secret that he wasn’t ready to share. He wanted Payne and Jones to ponder the mystery for a little while longer. “I’ll tell you in a little bit, okay? But I’m in a public restroom as we speak, and I don’t know if there are people in the other stalls listening.”
“What did you do? Flush yourself to another part of the city?”
Greene laughed. “No, nothing like that, but you’ll have to wait a few more minutes for the details. Where are you guys now?”
Jones asked Payne for details. “We’re somewhere in the French Quarter. Jon thinks it’s called Conti Street.”
