A branch gently scraped against the window pane in Sam’s cabin early the next morning. He stood at the window looking out over the grey dawn sky and the placid water of Sharp Ridge Lake. A low mist hung over the shoreline across the bay. A Great Blue Heron stood in the shallows near a cluster of cattails. The promise of a dreary day loomed ahead, but he didn’t mind. What he really wanted was to get that housekeeper over here to double check his bed linen. A really close look with her face down—ass up.
Sam released a disgruntled breath and shook his head. Unbelievable how quickly he’d gone from having a simple conversation with the beautiful woman, to nearly plowing her right on that dock last night. He felt a strange attraction to her—something he’d never felt before with a woman. He liked that she enjoyed nature and lived out here during the summer months. It made him envious. Sam rarely had the chance to enjoy life while he took away someone else’s. Maybe that’s exactly what he deserved.
A group of fishermen crossed the lawn not too far from his cabin. They carried their gear to the boats lined up along the small docks, all of them smiling and eager to get their hooks in the water. Sam watched as the group set their tackle, rods, and minnow buckets into two boats. The outboard motors were yanked alive, and the hum of the engines brought life to the silence as they pulled away from shore.
Sam was just about to leave his cabin and fetch a cup of coffee from the main lodge when his satellite phone shrieked through the cabin.
Ugh. He let the curtain fall back and grabbed the phone from the side pocket of his suitcase. He knew it wouldn’t stop ringing if he didn’t answer. This was his emergency line only and he didn’t go anywhere without it.
He barked into the receiver, “What the hell is so important that you call me on my vacation? Did somebody actually die?”
“A-are you a-lone?”
Sam barely made out the scratchy voice over the static on the phone. “You’ll have to speak up. I’m in the middle of nowhere.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I need you to come home. I’ll explain later.” He knew immediately it was Terry and it had to be important. Sam had stressed to Terry not to call while he was on vacation unless somebody died. As much as he wanted to ignore the request and continue with his time away, if something dreadful happened, then he’d feel responsible for not taking immediate action.
The urge to growl made him grit his teeth. So much for a well-deserved vacation far from anybody he knew. After hearing all the stories from Terry and Gabe about life in the woods with their women, he had become envious. Finding this place in the deep north of Ontario had been a blessing, although very short-lived. Plans never worked out for a man like him. Work never ended.
“I’ll be on the first flight out.”
He ended the call and ambled up to the window, drew the curtains open again. He could get used to this stunning view, even with the grey sky and lurking fog. After nearly twenty years of being the gunman behind the McCoy Empire, he just wanted peace and quiet like the rest of them.
Gabe and Terry had their futures mapped out, while Sam felt like a wanderer destined to a life all alone. His brothers were busy with their women and Sam was afraid of that kind of commitment. He couldn’t promise to survive the night, let alone make it to dinner on time. What woman would want that kind of life? On top of that, he enjoyed the thrill of the chase, the terrifying excitement of knowing that a bullet could end it all at any second. Nothing could be more hair-raising than living on impulse.
Gabe tied the knot with Mima last fall and Terry and Mary had their second child already. Sam had nothing but his suitcase, a cache of prized weapons, and good ol’ Auntie Rose.
But he’d like something soft. Something that meant something. Someone to turn to on those nights when he truly felt alone. He wasn’t afraid to admit that life scared him. Many a night he’d wake up stunned, as if he expected to be smothered in his sleep by a rival hitman as he had done once before on assignment. Or he’d wake up in a pool of sweat, often from the same dream of driving in his car, only to have the brakes fail from being cut, and plummeting into a deep gorge to his death. He probably deserved that fate, too, especially after hearing on the news that the man in the gorge had survived down there for three days before he died from his injuries. That recurring nightmare was a punishment Sam had accepted long ago.
This wasn’t a job for everyone. Sometimes it wasn’t a job for him, although most of the time he enjoyed flying to each corner of the earth and being pampered at luxurious hotels and chauffeured around like a king. Still, sometimes he imagined what it would be like to sit back in a cozy living room in front of a fireplace with a glass of wine, or even a cup of tea, or maybe have a cold beer with friends in the backyard—as long as nobody got shot.
He stared down at his suitcase and shook his head. He hadn’t even unzipped it yet. Hadn’t even put his toothbrush onto the bathroom vanity. That thought alone made him feel really tired. Sometimes it felt as if his life meant nothing more than taking on another job, and never getting the chance to enjoy the meaning of life. Did the boys not realize how unhappy he’d become? How much he felt like a chess piece, waiting for somebody to move him? Despite the bitter taste in his mouth that they hadn’t noticed his change in demeanor, while they enjoyed their lives and women, Sam wouldn’t let the depression get to him. They deserved their slice of happiness. Maybe he didn’t.
Sam often wondered what life would have been like if he didn’t meet Colton that day. He could’ve gotten to know his parents better. Maybe they stayed away because he chose this precarious path of life at such a young age. Sometimes he wondered if they had tried to be better parents, only to discover that he had no intention of being a regular, blue-collar son. But it was the path he chose, and whether or not he became tired of the routine, this was all that he knew. He had no other skills to fall back upon. Well, unless he became a hunting guide. That sudden thought made him think a little harder about a life in the open bush with a rifle in his arms—rather than concealing a handgun in a busy train station.
He violently shut the curtains, cursing aloud, and went back to bed, even if only for a few more minutes. As he lounged back against the pillows with the bedside lamp still on, he thought of all the places where he’d traveled, all the faces that came and went, and all the good things in life that he never had a chance to enjoy.
Maybe he could have a woman right now. A couple of kids. A life. But what kind of woman wanted a man who lived through the eye of a scope? He’d have to trust her completely, or lie to her indefinitely. To Sam, that was no way to live. He was better off being alone, because he had nothing special to offer anyone. Nothing but a life of constant worry.
He stared up at the wood paneling on the ceiling, forcing his thoughts away from his constant turmoil. He liked the décor of this place. It was rustic but pleasant, sort of homey in an eighties Miami hotel kind of way.
A movement caught his eye. He stared, transfixed, as a huge spider crawled out of a crack in the boards. The eight-legged creature stopped for a moment, probably eyeing its prey, before it scurried across the length of the ceiling and disappeared. He felt like that spider, destined to hunt until it spun its last web and killed its next mate.
Five minutes later and more frustrated than ever, Sam shoved off the bed and grabbed his belongings. He walked into the lodge with his suitcase in hand to find the lodge owner sitting at a table with her head in her hands. Either she had a wicked hangover or something else weighed on her brain.
He cleared his throat and she whipped her head up, blinking rapidly.
“Good morning,” Sam said, and pulled a chair out across from her.
He guessed by her immediate smile that it had been well practiced over the years. “Good morning, Mr. Daniels. What brings you in here so early? I’m afraid the coffee isn’t”—her gaze landed on the suitcase—“ready yet.” She appeared startled as her red-eyed gaze darted from the suitcase back to him. “Is there a problem with your cabin?”
“No, the cabin was great.” He offered an apologetic smile. “Duty calls, I’m afraid. Will there be a plane coming in this morning?”
“You’re lucky. We have two flights coming in today. The first plane should be arriving any minute, and the second will be around noon.” She stared at him sharply. “How were you able to get phone service?”
“I carry a satellite phone. It works pretty much everywhere.”
“Ah. The retail business must be lucrative.”
He chuckled. If that’s what she wanted to believe, so be it. “Well, as long as it isn’t any trouble, I’ll take the first flight out.”
Valerie smiled sadly and offered her hand for a shake. “Of course not. Well, we hope you return soon for a proper visit, Mr. Daniels. I’ll be sure to refund your money right away.”
He lifted his hand in refusal. “That isn’t necessary.”
“But—”
“I insist you keep it. I’m sure it costs quite a lot to charter planes around here. I happen to know a little about that, and since I’m leaving prematurely, it’s only fair that you keep the money.”
Valerie nodded and made no further comment. He sensed she was uncomfortable over the discussion of money.
The main door opened and two burly-looking men stepped inside with their baggage and fishing gear. Sam remembered them from last night as they hooted and hollered with the rest of them. They looked pale-faced and red-eyed this morning, almost as bad as the host.
Valerie’s instant grin was in hard play this morning as she pushed her chair back and stood to greet the men. “Mr. Daniels will be joining you on the flight out this morning, guys.”
Valerie turned to Sam. “The Bailey brothers have been coming here for over ten years,” she said proudly. “Same time every year, and we’re happy to have them.” Their host turned away to set out coffee cups and the fixings. “Coffee is ready. You three gentlemen come get a cup now before the plane gets here.”
As Sam and the two brothers sipped on the strong brew, he wondered when the housekeeper started her duties for the day. He imagined she must be embarrassed by their encounter last night. He, on the other hand, was blown away by the instant attraction. But that thought didn’t last long as the engine of the plane rumbled over the lodge. Sam stood and wandered to a nearby picture window, casually sipping the strong brew, and watched its descent. Any time he had the pleasure to watch a plane in action he always thought of Gabe. That man could fly anything anywhere. He wondered briefly if the boys would be interested in this sort of business. Now that Terry was out of the illegal loop, enjoying life with Mary and the kids, and Gabe living an adventurous life in the mountains with Mima, Sam wondered if they’d be interested in partnering up on a legitimate business. Something they could all operate together. Or even for all of them to use as a private vacation spot. There must be other lodges around for a potential sale. Maybe he should set up a meeting with the boys and hear their thoughts on the idea. Sam couldn’t imagine their partnership being over just because the empire had ended. They were still his brothers. His fucked-up little family meant everything to him.
The float plane, a twin Otter, swooped in a great circle over the trees, and made a smooth landing in the bay. As it taxied toward the dock, one of the dock hands waited with rope in hand for the plane to reach him.
Sam turned around and smiled at Valerie. “It was a pleasure while it lasted. Maybe I’ll see you next season.”
That winning smile seemed to fade as she nodded her head. Sam wondered if running a lodge was as wonderful as it was cracked up to be. But he thought no more of it as he had more important things to worry about. If Terry needed him home right now, then some bad shit was about to go down—if it hadn’t already.
He grabbed his suitcase and headed down to the dock. As the pilot maneuvered the great beast into the air and swept around to fly over the lodge, Sam wondered what was so important to Terry that Sam had to cut his vacation short before it had a chance to start.
* * * *
“I don’t understand. I thought everything was okay.” Jamie fought the urge to bawl like a child as Valerie’s bad news hit home. Now she understood why the boss lady had been drinking so much lately.
“I’ve been losing money three years in a row. I can’t afford to keep this place going after the remaining guests leave.”
Jamie ripped a few tissues out of the box on Valerie’s desk and dried her tears. “What exactly are you saying? Are you firing me?”
Valerie lowered her chin and stared down at her desk for a long while. Jamie thought that she too was trying to put on a brave face. “No, I’d never fire you, sweetheart.” When she looked back up, Jamie recognized the honesty in her eyes. “I just can’t afford to give you that loan, and as of today I have to lay you off. Right now I need a guide and a dockhand more than anything. I’ll have to clean the cabins and do all the cooking myself.” Her sharp stare cut Jamie right to the core. “I’m so sorry, honey. I thought I could pull through till the end of the season, but I was horribly wrong. I should’ve shut ‘er down last year.”
Jamie’s chin quivered. A knot the size of a golf ball lodged in her throat. This can’t be happening. Not now. “Does Monty know about this, too?” When Valerie nodded, she almost broke down in hysterical sobbing. So they both were up shit creek without a canoe. “What am I supposed to do? I’m so far in debt I’ll be ruined.”
“I’m sorry, Jamie, I really am. I’ve tried everything. I’ve even drained all of my savings. I just can’t do this any more. I have enough funds to pay you and Monty up until today. Any money owing from the remaining guests will cover my final operating costs. I’ll be forced to sell as quickly as I can or go bankrupt and abandon this place.”
“What about investors?” Jamie jumped up from her seat and paced Valerie’s office. She had ideas. They could try something—anything to keep the lodge in operation. She couldn’t imagine her favorite place in the world being abandoned.
“I’ve tried, believe me, I’ve tried everything.” Valerie stood from the desk and approached Jamie, her eyes glistening with tears. “You’ve been a wonderful asset to this lodge, my dear. If I manage to sell, everyone here will be recommended to come back. I promise.”
Jamie had no more words to say. Her mind was running a mile a minute wondering what she would do when she returned home. She wouldn’t have enough hours from the season to collect unemployment insurance by going home a month early. How was she supposed to survive? She needed that loan more than anything just to be able to keep her tiny apartment in the city, and having been fostered, she had no living relatives to seek shelter. No bank would give her a loan from a seasonal job either, and the time it would take to find a job in the city and collect a paycheck, it would be too late.
She suspected Valerie was struggling, but this was too much to take. “Well, I guess there isn’t much else to say. I’m really sorry this is happening to you, but I don’t know what to do now. Maybe I could speak to that Jack Daniels guy and beg him for a job in whatever retail business he’s in.” It was just a joke, but at this point she had nothing else to lose. Didn’t Valerie say he was a man of business?
Valerie shook her head. “I’m afraid he left yesterday.”
Jamie spun around and blinked hard. “What? But he just got here.”
“Apparently he had a satellite phone and got a call to return to work. He flew out yesterday morning. I was actually sad to see him go. He looked like a man with money.”
No wonder she hadn’t seen him since that night. Jamie’s heart sank. Oh God. He probably escaped after she threw herself at him like a hard-up hooker. Now she felt truly, utterly hopeless and pathetic, downright disgusted by her behavior that night. He must have been eager to get away. The call from work was probably a lie. Nobody travels to a lodge in the middle of nowhere with a fucking satellite phone.
She had nobody to ask for help, and with Monty’s layoff as well, he would be tight for money, too. Jamie had already taxed out her propositions for housekeeping in the city, and she didn’t have time to find another job when she owed so much money already.
She couldn’t say for sure what had pulled her into the world of selling dope. Maybe it seemed like the cool thing to do at the time. Her memories were blurry at best, and that was her own fault. The smart kids in high school, who were going somewhere with their lives, were in a whole other world than Jamie ever could be in. Perhaps following the rough crowd back then seemed easier, considering her family life had been precarious at best. But selling a few joints, or a few bags of blow was one thing—doing your own shit was another.
That’s how she got in a bad way. She became dependent on cocaine, and in the end, right before she smartened up, she’d borrowed a large amount, only to get ripped off by a thug. Now she was caught in a dangerous game, owing money to somebody who could seriously hurt her.
With more tears in her eyes and an emptiness in her heart, Jamie opened her arms and hugged Valerie hard. They held each other for a while as the weight of what was to come settled over them. This change in both of their lives wouldn’t be easy, especially for Valerie. She put her heart and soul into this business for nearly twenty years. “So I guess this is it. When am I supposed to leave?”
Valerie pulled back and wiped the tears slipping down her cheeks. “It’s best if the two of you leave today. Why keep the wounds open longer than necessary, right?”
Jamie disagreed. She’d love nothing more than to enjoy one final day on this beautiful land before she was forced to leave. But she understood Valerie’s reasoning. It was time to go home and form a plan.
After a two-hour flight back to the city, Jamie and Monty shared a taxi downtown.
“Told you she was losing money,” Monty said, his voice gruff with resentment.
Jamie stared out the window at the buildings whizzing by as rain pelted the car. Of course the weather suited her miserable mood. “Yeah, well, I don’t think either of us expected to be tossed out this fast. I’m really fucked now.”
Monty squeezed her shoulder. “You’ll be all right, twit.”
She turned to him, took in the hard line of his freshly shaved jaw. If she wasn’t so upset, she might actually compliment him for finally ditching the porn moustache. “You don’t understand. I have nothing, Monty. The money I made this summer is going straight to someone else, and I can’t even try to keep it.”
His eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
The taxi hydroplaned over a puddle before pulling to a heart-pounding stop in front of Monty’s apartment building. Jamie stared down at her hands, unsure how to tell him without telling him everything. “You know I haven’t always been a good girl.”
“Yeah, I know. Jammin’ Jamie, right?”
She shook her head, hating that nickname from her drug-induced days. “Well, let’s just say that caught up to me before I left for Sharp Ridge.” She looked up at him, on the verge of tears. “I’m in a lot of trouble and there’s no way out of it.”
Monty’s expression hardened. “For what? What the hell did you do now?”
The cab driver cleared his throat as Jamie and Monty battled eyeballs at each other. “I can’t tell you.”
“Listen to me. You can tell me anything, and you know I’m not a saint either.” Monty shook his head and dug into his pocket for money. Jamie stared at his profile as he handled the cash, recalling a recent drunken conversation when Monty admitted to robbing a house during a bad moment in his life. Monty and two other men had worn masks and busted into a mansion, only to find the family hadn’t yet left for their vacation. Monty was ordered to lock the kids in the room, unaware until it was too late that one of his partners had accidentally shot the father. Monty escaped through a window on the third floor and never looked back. He moved to a new city and started over. He’d lived in his own prison since then, despite trying to put humor into every conversation. Jamie knew of his silent torture, and even though the man had survived the shot, Monty still regretted what happened, because it could’ve ended up much worse.
Maybe what she did wasn’t so bad.
He handed a few bills to the driver. “Make sure she gets home with that.” After the cabbie took the cash and rushed to retrieve Monty’s hockey bag from the trunk without getting too soaked, her only friend gave her a quick hug. “I’ll call you later. I expect you to tell me everything in detail you silly twit.” Despite his cruel words, she knew she deserved it. Jamie slouched against the seat, feeling sorry herself as Monty ran up the steps to the building and the cab sped off down the street.
Monty always said the bitter truth—no sugarcoating allowed. Even if she did hate his choice of words at times, she loved his honesty. There weren’t many honest folks left in this cruel world.
A few blocks away she exited the cab and headed up the steps to her third-floor studio apartment. If getting laid off and owing a bunch of money to her old dealer wasn’t bad enough, seeing an eviction notice on her door had to be the worst news ever. She ripped the note off the door as blinding tears filled her eyes.
You have fourteen days to vacate the premises if all past due rent is not paid in full by end of August. The letter was dated last week, and all rent was due in three days.
The letter dropped to the floor as her knees buckled. Tears slid down her cheeks as her ass connected to the floor. She leaned against the hallway wall and sat there for a long while, unable to form any kind of plan to save herself. It seemed as though her life was slipping through her fingers. In fourteen days she’d be out on the street.
What if she hadn’t have come home today? Would the landlord have packed her stuff and thrown it into the street?
Coming up with all past due rent, which totaled over two-thousand dollars, within three days was impossible. Her bank account was overdrawn; she had two grand in cash that was already promised to someone else who would break her legs if she didn’t pay up. Her past wasn’t a pretty one, but she was an adult and would pay her dues.
She opened her apartment door, dropped her stuff on the floor; kicked her shoes off and into the open hallway closet. Next came the bra. At least she breathed a little easier without the confines of the underwire. On a day like this, that small bit of freedom was a welcome feeling.
After she turned on the radio to her favorite classic rock station, she began to unpack. As she removed her summer gear from her suitcase and duffel bag, Jamie thought she couldn’t sink any lower. Once her stuff was put away she went to the kitchen and grabbed her bottle of whiskey—something she always saved for the end of the season. So much for a celebratory drink today. This was a sorrow drinking day. Drink until nothing hurt anymore.
She drank straight out of the bottle. As she took a long swig, she thought of all the things going wrong in her life. A breakup one year ago. Getting fired from her winter job after being accused of stealing when she didn’t do it, only to be laid-off from the summer job, was a massive slap in the face. She hadn’t had sex in seven months and thirteen days to be precise, and she had three cigarettes left. If she kept the two grand, she’d be broken or worse. Being clean for eight months had its rewards, but now she owed money from a past she wished didn’t exist. A past that did nothing but harm her body.
Jamie Fields, get your shit together.
She took the bottle in hand and wandered over to the row of windows overlooking the street. People walked along the sidewalk below her prison of life. They had no idea what she went through. Maybe they were on their way to a fancy dinner when all she found in the freezer was an old forgotten box of fish sticks and a jar of mayo and ketchup in the fridge. Maybe those people were on their way to a family gathering when all she had was her bottle of whiskey. At least she had that.
“Congrats, Jamie. Another wasted day and wasted night for you.” She tipped the bottle to her lips and took another long pull.
Her gaze halted on her answering machine as the whiskey burnt a path down her throat. Six messages. Messages she didn’t want to hear. Probably more bill collectors or maybe a death threat.
She couldn’t help it. She burst out in hysterical laughter, followed by a wretched sob. “Why me?!” she screamed.
Her neighbor pounded on the wall. “Keep it down!”
Ugh. She plopped down onto the couch and stared blankly at her surroundings.
The tiny apartment of four-hundred square feet had a kitchenette with a three-burner stove and mini fridge beneath. No table. No chairs. A bed on one side, a dresser with television on the other, and a loveseat at the foot of the bed. She might as well be living in a boarding house, but at least she had her own bathroom.
All this splendor for eight-hundred dollars per month, she thought with a bitter taste in her mouth. And now she didn’t even have cable or Internet. She closed her eyes and tried to think of nice things. Card games and fishing on the lake. Giving Monty a hard time. Shore lunches and fishing. Good things that made her happy. Now she couldn’t even afford a pack of cigarettes.
Not so long ago, she would’ve found a way to buy a bag and forget her troubles. To take life through a straw and snort her cares away. But she wasn’t that person any more. She had to be tough, take it day by day, and never look back. Never ever look back.
With all this horror swimming in her head, she finished the bottle of whiskey and fell into a drunken sleep on the loveseat.
* * * *
The next morning Jamie was startled awake by the phone ringing. She pushed up to a sitting position on the couch and looked around in a confused haze. Her eyes felt like sandpaper, her head felt like a watermelon, and her mouth tasted like an ashtray. It took a moment to realize she was back at home and not at Sharp Ridge Lodge where it was safe. Being back home didn’t feel real. It seemed like a demented dream, and maybe, if she blinked harder, she would wake up at Sharp Ridge in her small comfy cabin, with the potbellied stove in the middle of the floor—the only place that felt like home.
She pushed up from the couch and ran to the phone, surprised it still worked since she owed the phone company money as well. Still groggy from sleep, and the whiskey, she answered in a ragged tone, “Hello?”
“Get up, twit. I have a job that might help your little situation.”
Jamie glared at the phone as if Monty could see it. How he could sound so lively this early in the morning should be a crime. “Does it involve cleaning toilets?” She leaned against the kitchen counter and rubbed her forehead, hoping that would clear away the watermelon seeds clogging her brain. “Hello?”
“I made a few phone calls last night. If you care to hear the details, then I suggest you get your sweet ass dressed and meet me around the corner at our favorite coffee shop. Unless you’d like to go to the bar instead?”
Jamie gagged. “God no. I had enough last night.”
“I thought so. Get dressed and meet me at noon. This has to be said in person.” He hung up before Jamie could respond. She put the cordless back on the charger and nearly laughed out loud with excitement. Maybe this was it. Maybe he had a job prospect that could get her out of this mess.
As Jamie walked to her dresser, feeling relieved that something positive might finally happen, the apartment door burst open and slammed against the wall. She spun around and screamed as two burly men stormed inside her apartment. The one holding the baseball bat went straight to her television and smashed it to pieces. The other man rushed her, pinned her against the wall by her throat, and said through clenched teeth, “That will be your legs in two days if you don’t give Jones his money by then.”
She had no words, no breath as he released her throat and backed away.
On the way out the door, the man with the baseball bat busted the drywall on both sides of the hallway. Every hit made her body jerk. As their bulky frames disappeared out the door and down the steps as fast as they broke in, Jamie slunk down the wall and burst into wretched sobs.
How could she pay Jones in two days and pay her landlord as well? Maybe she should pack a bag and disappear with the cash she had, start fresh in a new town where nobody knew her. But Jones would find her. He had a long arm, and every shady character in this country knew him well.
She hugged her knees and lowered her forehead to her lap, wishing something good could come her way.
A creak in the floor made her look up. Mrs. Watson, the elderly lady from next door, stood in the middle of the room looking at the damage, her eyes wide. “What happened here?”
Jamie took a deep breath, dried her eyes, and pushed up to her feet. “Nothing you need to worry about. I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
Mrs. Watson glanced at her now, her expression full of concern. “Should I call the police?”
“No. No. Please don’t,” Jamie begged. “I’ll have this fixed. I promise. It was just a misunderstanding with a friend. No need to worry about it.”
Mrs. Watson clucked her tongue. “I think you need to change your friends.” She took one last look through the room, turned around, and headed back out the door, mumbling under her breath, “Damn young people are gonna give me a heart attack….”
Jamie went to the door. Even though the frame was cracked and splinters of wood lay scattered across the floor, she was still able to close it. That was a small comfort at least, even though she knew they could burst back in anytime they wanted.
She quickly dressed, her mind racing on how she could get out of this mess that was veering out of control. If she had a choice, she would’ve stayed at Sharp Ridge and never came back.
Right at noon, Jamie walked into the coffee shop around the corner. Monty stood and smiled, but his expression hardened as his intent gaze took in her defeated expression. As she approached the table, she knew her eyes were swollen and red from crying. She tried her best to hide it but she couldn’t be strong any more—not after her visit less than an hour before.
Monty came around the table and wrapped her up in his arms, rubbing her hair as she sobbed against his chest.
“This is it, Monty. I’m really fucked. Jones’s boys busted into my place right after you called me.”
Monty let out a hard sigh. “I thought you quit hanging with him.”
“I did!” She wiped her eyes on his T-shirt. “I’ve been clean for eight months. But I”—she stepped back and pulled out a chair from the table—“I borrowed large and I was ripped off.”
He glared at her as he took his seat opposite hers. “Big mistake. Especially with Jones. How long did he give you to pay up?”
“Two days.”
“How much?”
“Twenty-five hundred. That’s more than what I earned so far this summer, and I owe my landlord money, too.”
His eyebrows lifted high as he shook his head in disbelief. “That’s no small amount. He’s broken legs for a lot less.”
“I’m an idiot. I could give Jones what I have—even though there’s still more—but then I’d still owe the landlord. I don’t know what to do!” And even if Monty offered to take her in, he already had a roommate in tight quarters. She had nowhere else to go, aside from the women’s shelter, and she had too much pride for that. There had to be something she could do. Anything that didn’t involve selling herself on the street.
“I’ve been calling you a twit for a reason.” Monty waved a waitress over and ordered espressos for both of them. “How about a slice of pie? It’s lemon. Isn’t that your favorite?”
Bless his heart for remembering her sweet tooth. Jamie wanted to kiss him and slap him for being so generous. Must be nice to have money to spend even after getting laid off. Maybe she should ask Monty to buy her a pack of smokes. She sucked her last one back in under a minute on the way here. “Sure. Thanks.”
When the waitress left to fill their order, Monty stared at Jamie for a long minute. “If I had the money, I’d give it to you. But as it is I’m hard up as well.”
Jamie lowered her gaze to the table top. “I know.” Having only known her for five years his generosity choked her up, even if he wasn’t able to help. The offer alone made him a good friend in her books, and she would do the same for him without hesitation if their roles were reversed.
“But I brought you here because I have a proposition. When was the last time you had a vacation?”
Jamie blinked in surprise at the unexpected question. “Uh, I went camping at Algonquin Park a couple of years ago. Why?”
He tipped his head back and released a throaty laugh. “That isn’t a vacation.”
Jamie sighed. His comment made her feel really low. “I like the bush.”
“I know, but I mean a real vacation. Somewhere tropical. A place with white sand beaches and music in the night. Sexy cabana boys to serve you.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Jamie couldn’t imagine ever being lucky enough to get that. The waitress arrived with their order and Jamie almost groaned aloud over her first bite of the pie. “This is awesome.” Almost as good as an orgasm. A vision of that Jack guy flashed through her mind. She almost blushed at the memory of how his hard body felt against hers. Too much time had passed since she’d felt the warmth of a man.
Monty took a sip of his espresso, watching Jamie carefully. He had yet to touch his pie. “Let’s get down to it, then. I got through to an old friend who needs someone to go to Cuba—”
“Cuba?” Her hand holding the fork stilled over the pie. “Are you serious? For what?”
Monty’s expression remained the same—determined. “Agree to go and I’ll give you the details.”
Jamie set her fork down and regarded him seriously. “Look, Cuba sounds awesome but I’m about to get evicted from my apartment, have my legs and possibly my face broken, and I’m way behind on bills. Taking off on a trip isn’t happening. Not now, and maybe not ever.”
Monty leaned closer, still undeterred. “All expenses will be paid, and you’ll even get paid to go.”
Get paid to go on a free vacation? Jamie frowned. This sounded too good to be true. “What’s the catch?”
Monty shook his head quickly. “Nothing. Just go to Havana and meet up with my friend’s contact who lives there.” This time Monty couldn’t seem to look Jamie straight in the eye, and that worried her more than anything.
“Meet with your friend’s contact? This is beginning to sound like a drug deal and you want me to be a mule or something. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to jail for a free vacation, Monty. That side of my life was over a long time ago.”
Monty sat forward and shook his head hard. “No drugs involved, I promise. I’d go myself but I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because my new job starts on Friday, and it’s at a classy new restaurant. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me.” He averted his attention to the view outside. Jamie gave him a sharp, speculative glance as Monty struggled to say more. It seemed as if he was afraid of something. “The date of the trip can’t be changed, and she paid a lot of money for this to happen. She put her trust in me, and I trust you.” He shrugged. “Works for me.”
Jamie eyed him suspiciously. “Who is she?”
He chuckled, at himself it seemed, then glanced out the window. “We met on a job a long time ago. Tough girl. Smart. Beautiful….”
Jamie suspected there had been more to them than a job. “So why aren’t you with her since you’re obviously still infatuated?”
Monty blew out a sharp breath. “She fell in love with somebody else. Somebody with a lot more money and connections.”
The hardened tone of his voice made Jamie even more suspicious of this mission. “Then why are you talking to her now?”
Monty stared directly at Jamie, his jaw tight, shoulders stiff. “Because I owe her a favor, and I want to help you. I called her up to see if she had any jobs. I would’ve taken it and gave you the money.”
Jamie sighed hard. Her throat felt tight. Why couldn’t she love this man more than a friend? She wanted to be happy, and she wanted Monty to be happy. Still, it didn’t make sense to go on a trip in someone else’s place, all for a package. “Why can’t she just change the date or ship the package?”
“Because she can’t go and the package can’t be shipped. Look, I know this might seem strange”—he leaned forward and placed his hand over Jamie’s forearm—“but I trust you. And since you’re going through a difficult time, I thought you might enjoy this trip, and you need the money pretty badly. And I can’t tell you who she is—she wants to remain anonymous.”
Jamie stared down at his hand on her arm before she looked back up and tried to read Monty’s expression. His big blues were full of hope and trust, and it almost made her cave in then and there. Almost. This whole thing didn’t seem right. But she was desperate. What else could she possibly do aside from selling her body to get out of debt? “What’s in the package?”
Monty sat back in his seat, his eyes glinting with an emotion Jamie couldn’t read. “I don’t know, to be honest. What I do know is that it revolves around some organization or whatever, and it’s very important.”
Jamie leaned back and blew out a frustrated breath. She wasn’t sure where to go with this. On one hand, she could be smart and just say no. On the other, the prospect of a free trip and earning some money could be exactly what she needed. “If I get arrested, I swear to God I’ll kill you.”
Monty chuckled, not at all put off by her words. “Even if you did have to return with something—which you won’t—private jets and private airstrips don’t question anyone about anything. You could bring a dead body back home with you and no one would lift a brow.”
She thought hard for a moment but couldn’t come up with a smart remark. “This just sounds weird. So I go to Cuba to deliver a package. Just like that? That’s it?”
Monty shrugged. “Sort of.”
“What do you mean sort of? You better explain to me what the hell is going on here. You’re putting me at risk, you know.” She sucked in a deep, calming breath. “I may be desperate, Monty, but I’m not stupid.”
“I know.” Monty sighed and leaned forward, elbows on table. “You’ll be going there with a package in exchange for another. Like a trade, really. Once you have it, you’ll meet up with her contact and deliver it. That’s it.”
“So I won’t be returning with anything? Just delivering one package in exchange for another, and handing that off, too?”
“Exactly.”
That didn’t sound too painful, but she still had a sinking suspicion that drugs were involved. She stared down at the table as fear and desperation warred in her mind. A long time ago she promised herself never to get caught up in that again. “You know what’s in the package, don’t you?”
“I swear I don’t.” Monty stood and set a piece of paper on the table that listed a phone number. “When you make your decision, call this number. Whatever you decide, don’t share this number with anyone.”
As Monty walked past the table, Jamie grabbed his forearm, halting him. “You said I’d get paid to go on a vacation. How much are we talking about?”
“Fifty thousand.”
“Dollars?” Holy shit. Jamie blinked hard. “That’s a lot of money on top of a free vacation.” She thought hard for a second. This could be very good, or totally against everything I promised never to do again. “If I agree to go, would I get the money before or after the trip?”
He grinned as if he knew she would say yes. “Half before, the other half when the final exchange is done. Sounds fair, right?”
Jamie nodded and released his arm. Monty leaned closer and added, “You don’t have to do this, Jamie. But if you do, within a week all of your worries will be over. Just think about it.”
As her only friend walked away and pushed the door to the coffee shop open, he said over his shoulder, “You have twenty-four hours to decide,” and walked out the door.
Later that night Jamie paced her apartment. As crazy as Monty’s offer sounded, she couldn’t help but think about it all night. That much money would get her out of debt, even though she knew there was something shifty about it. She could pay her landlord and Jones with the first payment and still be laughing. She could rest easy knowing she had some money while still finding a job—with a roof over her head and food in her stomach.
What do I have to lose by doing this? “Possibly my pride, my freedom, or even my life,” she said aloud.
She stared at the only picture hanging in her apartment—a view of the bay at Sharp Ridge Lodge. What would Cuba be like compared to the lodge? Like night and day, she imagined. A deep tissue massage versus hard work. Having someone else take care of her versus cleaning someone else’s bathroom. A walk on a soft, sandy beach rather than a rocky shoreline. A sexy cabana boy to serve her drinks instead of making them herself. Huh. The idea was sounding slightly better every minute.
But what if this was some sick joke by a woman she didn’t even know? Monty may trust this person, but how could she? Obviously this anonymous woman had money. Jamie, on the other hand, had two days to pay a dangerous debt, and fourteen days until she was homeless.
Monty would never steer me in the wrong direction.
She was utterly hopeless if she didn’t take this job. But she had until noon tomorrow to make up her mind. On impulse, Jamie grabbed her fall coat from the hallway closet and took off for a long walk to clear her head.
It was just past midnight as she crested the hill that overlooked the waterfront, a few blocks from her apartment building. Five cargo ships were lined up in the bay, as still and soundless as a painting over the placid water. The view was incredible from here. The lights from the boats twinkled over the water connecting to the lights from the shipping lanes at shore. They all waited to be docked come morning and filled with the grains from the terminals.
Some might think of this industrial view as ugly, but Jamie thought it was beautiful—especially at night when all was quiet, when no traffic or people or seagulls disturbed the scene. The darkness of night always held a certain appeal to her since she was a kid. During the darker moments of her life, she would close her eyes and imagine something good. Nighttime had the same appeal. She could be anyone at night. Anyone she wanted to be.
When Jamie finally returned home, she picked up the phone and dialed the number despite the crude hour.
A sleepy, feminine voice answered. “Yes?”
“This is Jamie, Monty’s friend. I thought about the offer.”
“And?”
She took a deep breath. “When do I leave?”