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The plane taxied down the runway, and the rain pelted against the windows harder. The plane shook and shuddered as it lifted into the air, defying gravity and taking on the storm around them. The plane dipped and she felt her stomach rise just before it gained altitude again. She squeezed Shane’s hand tighter and tried to think positive thoughts. Like maybe crashing and burning in a plane the size of a tin can was much more preferable to being tortured to death by her Uncle Angelo.
Then again, maybe not.
The plane shuddered once more and the engines went silent just before the lights went off inside the cabin.
ChapterFourteen
Shane scowled at Jax as he threw an arm around Rachel and pulled her close. He hurriedly tossed their bags in another black SUV that had been waiting for them at Midway International Airport, and went to extricate Rachel from Jax’s grasp.
Jones and Carrie were already in the front seats of the SUV and the engine was running. It was just shy of four in the morning and their window of opportunity was shrinking with every minute.
“Unhand my woman,” Shane said.
“Don’t be jealous, Shane,” Rachel said. “I would hug anyone who got us out of that soup can on wheels. I’ve never been so happy to have my feet on the ground. There was a moment back there when you were looking pretty worried.”
Jax sputtered and said, “Soup can on wheels? Darlene is in her prime. She’s never failed a mission.”
Shane laughed and gave Jax a smug smile. “Let’s go, sugar,” he said, pulling Rachel to the waiting SUV.
“But what about Jax?” she asked. “Shouldn’t he be coming with us?”
“Should I be worried about this odd fascination you have with him?” Shane asked.
“Well, he did just save my life,” she said. “Yours too. But there’s no need to be jealous. He seems like a handful, and I’ve already got both my hands full with you.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “Jax will follow behind and grab Cutter so they can pick up your father’s attorney from protective custody.”
They headed east out of Midway and into the residential area of Chicago. The lights from the city could be seen in the distance, but these neighborhoods were all hidden in shadow. What few streetlights there were had been broken out, and shards of glass littered the streets along with trash and the occasional homeless person buried under newspaper piles. All of the houses were attached to each other and were no wider than one room across. The sidewalks were cracked and the trees were empty of leaves. Nothing could hide the stark depression of the street or the desperation behind the crumbling brick of the houses.
They stopped in front of the last house on the block, and Jones pulled into a cracked driveway that had weeds growing between the broken concrete. The rain had lessened to a miserable drizzle, and the headlights from the SUV caught a glimpse of the whites of someone’s eyes as they lighted the alleyway. Carrie already had her gun in her lap, and Shane grabbed the .9mm out of the small of his back.
“Nice neighborhood,” Rachel commented.
“We figured it was the least we could do for Mr. Norman since he was so accommodating,” Jones said. “You kids stay in the car, and Carrie and I will retrieve Mr. Norman. My best advice is to just shoot anything that moves or they’ll have this car stripped before we make it back outside.”
Jones and Carrie left the SUV with their weapons drawn and in plain sight of anyone lurking in the area. The silence was deafening inside the car, and Rachel was sure she saw movement just outside her window, though she couldn’t be sure. There were a few people who dashed back and forth from the alley to the other houses on the block, but Rachel could never get a clear glimpse of them. They were like rats scurrying from place to place, scavenging whatever they could find.
It was less than five minutes before Rachel saw the outline of Jones backlit at the front door of the row house. He held a small man by the arm and Jones yanked him down the steps and into the rain. By the way the man was struggling, it didn’t look like he was too happy to see Jones again. Carrie followed closely behind them with her weapon out and her eyes constantly moving as she looked for danger.
The back door of the SUV opened next to Rachel and the small man was unceremoniously tossed in next to her like a sack of potatoes. The man reminded her of a small wet cat. Rachel scooted closer to Shane. Jones and Carrie got back in the front seat, and they were back on the road in no time.
“I tell you, I’m going to be filing a complaint with your superior, young man,” the nasally voice from beside her said.
Rachel saw Wildcat’s hands tighten on the steering wheel, but he kept his eyes on the road ahead. He turned onto the highway and almost immediately the neighborhoods improved. They were now headed into the heart of the city.
“I’ve never been treated so poorly in my entire life,” the man said, turning his gaze on Rachel. He was small of stature and his sandy hair was thinning on top. Thick glasses perched at the end of his nose and his fingernails were buffed and manicured. Despite his damp and wilted appearance, the quality of his suit was very expensive, as was the gold watch at his wrist.
“I was snatched from my home in the middle of the night, and they wouldn’t even give me the courtesy of packing a bag first. For two days I’ve had to wear these clothes. It’s just shameful. And then, as if that weren’t bad enough, they blindfolded me and took me to this godforsaken place. I haven’t slept a wink in fear the rats would eat me alive. And then those barbarians showed up and watched every move I made. I couldn’t even use the facilities in private. It’s just been a dreadful experience.”
Rachel nodded sympathetically and let him wind down. The man was close to hyperventilation and was obviously prone to hysterics. She scooted closer to Shane, though she was practically sitting on his lap as it was.
“Oh dear, I haven’t introduced myself. This situation has just taken its toll on my nerves. I’ll have to have two sessions next week with my therapist. I’m Neville Norman, by the way,” he said, extending his hand. “Third generation president and owner of Suretrust Bank.”
He didn’t give Rachel the opportunity to introduce herself. “And you must be Rachel Valentine. I’ve seen your picture on the news, so that’s how I recognized you. Though you’re not quite what I expected now that I’m seeing you in person for the first time. I thought you’d have a little more…class,” he said, looking at her sweatshirt and jeans with disapproval. “Did you know you’re wanted by the police for murder?”
Rachel was speechless. Was this guy for real?
“But of course you know,” he said, shaking his head. “You’re with the police right now. And it seems you have your father’s talent for buying your way out of sticky situations since you’re not being hauled away in handcuffs.”
