“Danny!” the other henchman in Hart’s posse shouted, “Jesus Christ, you just shot Brady. What the fuck!”

“Go,” Frankie whispered and I looked at her. Then I threw myself through the window, landing on soft turf. I rolled away from the window and got to my feet. She followed me out, I grabbed her hand, yanked her up and we ran.

We heard the second gunshot as we went.

* * *

Benny led and Cal followed as Benny opened the door to a sleazy bar that had the name of Slim Jim’s.

Ricky was sitting at the end of the bar looking the same as ever. Thinning non-descript hair. Thin non-descript face. Thin non-descript body. Weasel eyes and, even though Cal couldn’t see him or hear him, he knew Ricky had bad teeth and was a mouth breather.

Ricky’s head came up when Benny came in. He clocked Benny and then he was on the move.

Benny and Cal sprinted after him.

They caught him out the back alley, Benny grabbing him by the back of his shirt, he yanked him to a halt then turned him and shoved him face first against the wall.

Benny grabbed his wrist, twisted his arm around and up, got close to his back and asked in his ear, “Why you runnin’, Ricky?”

Ricky turned his head, saw Cal and his face got white.

“Jesus,” he whispered then rallied, “hey Cal.”

“Talk,” Cal replied.

“About what?” Ricky asked, Benny pushed in closer and Ricky’s eyeballs slid way to the side in an effort to take in Benny. “Yeesh, Benny, man, what the fuck?”

“Talk,” Benny repeated Cal’s word.

“Like I said, about what?” Ricky asked.

“About where Hart would take Cal’s woman,” Benny answered and Ricky’s eyes went to Cal.

“You got a woman?” he asked, openly surprised or acting that way.

“Ricky, we don’t got a lotta time,” Cal said instead of answering.

Benny pushed off and moved a foot away so Ricky could turn to face them, back still to the brick wall of the alley.

Ricky’s eyebrows went up. “You two workin’ for Sal?”

“Cal asked you a question, Ricky. We don’t got a lotta time.” Benny reminded him.

Ricky’s eyes went to Benny. “Don’t know nothin’ ‘bout Hart.”

Benny looked at Cal. Cal caught his eye and then looked at Ricky. Then he moved, dipping low, he caught Ricky with an upper cut to his kidneys. Ricky’s arms went around his belly, he bent forward and coughed.

After doing this for thirty seconds, his head shot back and he wheezed, “What the fuck!”

“Where would Hart go on the run?” Cal asked.

“Hart’s a crazy motherfucker. Don’t know nothin’ ‘bout him, don’t wanna know nothin’ ‘bout him,” Ricky answered and Benny moved in, hand wrapping around Ricky’s throat, pinning him to the brick wall.

“It’s your business,” Benny reminded him, “Mr. Information. You know everything about everyone.”

“Don’t know about Hart,” Ricky rasped, his fingers curling around Benny’s forearm.

“We don’t got time to deal. You sell information. Today, you’re buyin’ it with your health,” Benny informed him.

“Ben,” Ricky choked, “you know Hart. I got in his business, he’d get in mine. Don’t need that shit. I steer clear.”

“You got to have heard somethin’,” Cal told him and Ricky’s eyes came to Cal.

“I hear it, I forget it, I stay breathin’,” Ricky’s voice sounded strangled and he was tearing at Benny’s forearm with his fingernails.

“What’d you forget?” Benny asked, leaning in close and Ricky gagged. “What’d you forget!” Benny shouted in his face.

“Ben, boy can’t talk if you choke him to death,” Cal said quietly, Benny looked over his shoulder at Cal and stepped back.

Benny’s phone rang and since it was in Cal’s back pocket, Cal pulled it out, looked at the display and his brows snapped together. He flipped it open and put it to his ear.

“Yo,” he said.

“Collect call from Francesca Concetti. Will you accept the charges?” an operator asked.

“Yes,” Cal clipped, his eyes sliced to Benny and he mouthed, “Frankie.”

Benny’s back went straight.

“Ben?” Francesca whispered.

“Frankie?”

“Oh Jesus,” she was still whispering, “Cal?”

“Frankie where the fuck are you?”

“Boathouse –” she started then he heard Vi, her voice tight, high, something weird in it.

“Is that Joe?”

“Yeah,” Frankie whispered.

“Give it to me,” Cal heard Vi demand and then he heard a tussle. Finally, Vi came on the phone. “Joe?”

“Baby, where are you?”

“Joe!” she squealed.

“Jesus, Violet, keep it down,” he heard Frankie hiss.

“Oh Joe, Jesus, honey, oh God,” Vi whispered then he heard a tortured sob.

“Buddy, hold it together and tell me where you –” he stopped talking when he heard the phone moving around and then he was back to Frankie.

“Hart told her you were dead,” Frankie explained and Cal clenched his teeth because this was a cruel thing to do to anyone, especially Vi; because he could still hear Violet’s sobs; because he was getting no information; and lastly because they were on the phone but it sounded like they were unsafe.

“I’m alive. Where are you?”

“He took us to a boathouse. North. We’re on the lake. We climbed out the window, went through the trees and broke into another house,” Frankie answered.

“Hart’s not there?”

“No, he’s –” she was cut off by Vi.

“Let me talk to him.”

“Girl, we gotta –”

“Frankie,” Cal cut in, “stay on the line.”

“Let me talk to him!” Vi demanded.

“Shit,” Frankie muttered then he heard a faraway, “here.”

Cal’s teeth were still clenched and he was glaring at Benny who still had Ricky against the wall with a loose hold at his throat but his eyes were locked on Cal.

“Joe –” Vi began.

“Honey, I know you’re freaked but you gotta give the phone back to Frankie,” Cal told her.

“Why?” Violet asked.

“Because she’s got her shit together and she can lead me to you.”

“But I know exactly where we are. Dad had a boat up here. We’re –”

He heard Frankie cut in. “Violet, I hear somethin’.”

“Where are you?” Cal asked urgently.

“Oh God, they’re here,” Violet whispered.

“Violet, God dammit, where are you?” Cal shouted but the line was dead. “Jesus fucking Christ!” Cal roared, snapped the phone shut, got into Benny’s space to shove him aside and wrapped his hand around Ricky’s throat. “Where’s Hart’s boathouse?”

Ricky’s eyes were bugging out and his hand came up to claw at Cal’s arm but he managed to gag, “Boathouse?”

“Boathouse!” Cal barked in face.

“Don’t know. Swear to God… don’t –” he stopped speaking and started full on gagging, Cal released him and stepped back.

He flipped the phone back open and dialed home. Colt answered on the first ring.

“Colton.”

“Colt, ask Kate what her grandfather’s phone number is.” Cal ordered.

“Sorry?” Colt asked.

“I don’t have a lotta time. Ask Kate what Vi’s father’s phone number is.”

“Hang on,” Colt said and then Cal heard him calling Kate and the phone was jostled.

“Joe?” It was Kate saying his name, his second favorite way of hearing it.

“Hey Katy,” he said softly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, baby.”

“Mom?” she asked, her voice tense.

“Gettin’ there,” he replied vaguely. “Now listen to me. I need your grandfather’s phone number.”

“I’ll go get my phone,” she said quickly.

So Kate. She didn’t ask questions. She wasn’t messing around. She knew he needed something and she was getting down to business.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered.

“Everyone here is really freaked out,” she told him and he knew she was walking and talking.

“Tell them they can relax,” Joe said and he heard her short, surprised giggle.

“Jeez, Joe, that’s what you always say.”

God he loved that kid.

“I know you’re in a hurry but can you hang on? Keira wants to talk to you,” Kate asked.

He couldn’t but he would.

“Yeah, tell her it has to be fast.”

“Right,” she said into his ear and then the phone was away from her mouth when he heard her say, “It has to be fast, Keirry.”

“I’ll be fast,” he heard Keira promise, then in the phone, “Joe?”

Tied for second.

“Hey, honey.”

“Joe,” her voice broke on his name then the tears were audible.

“Come here, darlin’,” Cal heard who he guessed was Cheryl whisper and the phone moving.

“It’s me. I’m back,” Kate said. “I got the number.”

“Give it to me,” Joe replied and listened to it as she gave it and repeated it. When she was done, he said, “We’ll be home soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she whispered.

“Love you, baby.”

“Love you too, Joe.”

He flipped the phone shut and looked at Benny and Ricky who were both staring at him. Benny with a grin on his face. Ricky with his mouth hanging open.

Cal ignored their reactions and said to Benny, “They’re in a boathouse, north, on the lake. Vi said her Dad had a boat there before we were disconnected. I have his number. We’ll call on the way.”

Benny was already on the move when he said, “Gotcha.”

* * *

We stopped in the trees, both of us breathing heavy but we listened for footfalls in the leaves.

We’d been running willy nilly for what seemed like hours, at first because we were panicked and didn’t know what the fuck we were doing. Then because we were lost and couldn’t get our bearings. Finally, we came to a spot that was familiar to me and I knew we were close to safety.

Now we just needed to catch our breath.

“You think we lost them?” Frankie whispered.

I knew Daniel Hart never gave up. We didn’t lose them.

I looked at her and shook my head.

She looked through the trees then at me. “We should separate.”

I snatched up her hand. “What? No!”

“They won’t know who they’re followin’.”

“So? They could catch either one of us but –”

“You stay here, I’ll go. They’ll hear me, follow me, you know the lay of the land. You wait awhile then go to that shop you were talkin’ about and I’ll lead them away.”

This was a crazy plan and no way I was doing it.

“What if they find you?” I asked.

“I’ll think of something,” she answered.

“That’s crazy!” I snapped.

She got close. “Violet, honey, you got no shoes on. You’re in a t-shirt. You can’t be out here, running on this –”

I cut her off. “I’m fine.”

She got closer. “Listen to me –”

I shook her hand at the same time I squeezed it. “We’re not separating.”

“Vi –”

I lifted my other hand and wrapped it around the side of her neck. I did this because Joe did it to me more than once and when he did I shut up and listened to him (sometimes).

“We’re… not… separating.”

Frankie stared me in the eyes then she nodded.

There you go. The hand to the neck business worked even if you weren’t a huge badass rugged alpha male.

I filed that away for future reference and then we both took off running.

* * *

Cal and Benny stood in the empty boathouse with the broken window. There weren’t many but this was the third one they’d been in. The second one had two dead men in it that Cal recognized because they’d shot at him this morning. The boathouse he and Benny were in was the closest to Hart’s and it was the one where the women had used the phone. Cal knew this because the place was dusty but the dust was disturbed and most of the disturbance was around the phone.

Cal had Benny’s phone to his ear and Pete was on the line.

“Where would she head?” Cal clipped into the phone.

“People. Civilization,” Pete muttered.

That would be difficult. They weren’t far out of Chicago but there weren’t a lot of either of those where they were which was fifteen minutes out of Chicago but still right in the middle of fucking nowhere.

Then Pete said on a near shout, “The shop!”

“What shop?” Cal asked.

“Main road, half a mile up from the house we used to have. Only thing on that road except the lake houses. We used to drive out of our way to go up there so I could get the kids ice cream. I didn’t want the ice cream to melt –”

Cal interrupted him, “So it’s half a mile up from your old place, you mean north?”

“Yes,” Pete answered and Cal looked at Benny and did the mental calculation from what Pete had told him.