Finding Jordie: Things aren't always what they seem. (The Love Lies Bleeding Series Book 1) (34 page)

BOOK: Finding Jordie: Things aren't always what they seem. (The Love Lies Bleeding Series Book 1)
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“That’s easy for you to say. I can’t afford to fly everyone out there, Nath—”

“Ahhh contraire, my parents are footing this shindig, remember?”

“Yeah, right, okay, like I’m going to let your parents pay for it.”

“Why not? My mom did insist.”

“Seriously, just no.”

“Give me a list before I leave, please. I’ll call Tyler and my parents in the morning, you call Rachel and Kelly and have everyone clear their schedules for the
eleventh. How’s that sound?”

I rolled out of bed and picked up my phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Rachel. If I wait until morning and she hears it from Tyler first, I’m dog food.”

“No way. You’re all mine tonight.” He snatched the phone from my hand, drew me close to him, and kissed me. “When should we tell Emma?” His lips were still pressed against mine.

I pulled back slightly. “Well, I really should go to the doctor first. Get confirmation with blood work and make sure everything is all right before we start telling people. That’s like the standard pregnancy etiquette, I think.”

“Okay.” He leaned back in towards me, but I stopped him.

“I’ll have to tell Rachel, though. She’s going to suspect it anyhow since we’re getting married so quickly, but for right now I need to get some sleep. I’m exhausted.” I gave him a quick kiss goodnight and snuggled up next to him. As I was drifting off to sleep the alarm began to blare again.

“Ah, this fucking thing is more trouble...” I shouted as it cut off.

Nathan was already out of bed, putting his jeans on. “What the fuck? Stay here.”

He rolled his eyes, I guessed because I was already out of bed putting my shorts on. His phone rang so I grabbed it off the nightstand and answered it on the way back downstairs.

“Hi, Frank.”

“Jordie, what happened? I’m on my way.”

“I have no idea. The alarm went off, then it stopped. Malfunction, I—” I was cut off by the alarm again. “Jesus Christ, this thing has gone AWOL, Frank.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.” He hung up.

Nathan took his keys out of his pocket and mashed the button until the alarm stopped. I could tell he was pissy by the way he tossed them on the table next to the door.

“What’s wrong with it?”

He stood in front of the alarm cursing as he punched buttons with his fingers. “The damned thing shouldn’t have gone off again. I’m trying to disarm it completely but as soon as I do it rearms.” His frustration grew as the panel beeped in protest. He ran his hand through his hair and groaned.

“Mom?” Emma stumbled out of her room groggily for the second time. “Really? Just shut it off,” she whined.

“We’re trying, but something’s—” I was interrupted again by the scream of the alarm so I shouted to her, “Something’s wrong with it.”

She tossed a sarcastic “Clearly,” at me and went back in her room, slamming the door.

“Fuck, stop,” Nathan yelled at the panel as he pounded the buttons much harder than he had before.

My home phone rang so I checked the caller ID. “It’s the alarm company.”

“Tell them to disarm this effing thing.”

“Hello?”

“Ms. Spagnato, we see your alarm has been triggered. Do you need assistance?”

“Yes. Please, shut it off. It keeps going off, even after we disarm it.”

“It looks as if a remote is using the panic mode, then cutting it off, and repeating the same sequence.”

The alarm stopped.

“Thank you.”

“Ma’am, I was in the process of disarming it manually, but it seems the remote has disarmed it again.”

“Which remote?” The confusion was pretty clear in my voice.

“Remote number four, listed as spare.”

“That’s not possible. I’m looking at the spare set of keys on the table in front of me.”

“That’s what it’s indicating, Ms. Spagnato. Remote number four, spare. Perhaps there’s a short in that remote.”

“Well, that’s great,” I muttered.

“I have the serial number for that particular remote. I’ll disable it now and send out a replacement. You should have it within a day or two. Is that all right?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Okay, any more problems, feel free to call us.”

“Thank you.” I put the phone back in its cradle.

“What did he say? Did they fix it?”

“He said it was your remote setting it on and off. He disabled it because there may be a short. A new one is in the mail.”

“All right, whatever.” He ran his hands through his hair.

The buzzer went off and I jumped.

“Frank?”

“Yes, it’s me, Nate.”

Frank and Ronnie walked in and the two of them did a quick run through of the place.

“Everything looks good,” Frank assured us. “Where did Charles go?”

“He isn’t up here. I was halfway to la la land when it went off again.” I yawned after I managed to answer him. I was exhausted.

Frank side-eyed Ronnie and he shrugged in response. Frank was pissed. I mean, really pissed.

“Maybe he went to the bathroom? Check the bar before you have an aneurism, Frank.” I gave him a smile in hopes it’d lighten his mood up a bit.

“You’re far too kind, Jordie.”

“Eh, everyone has to pee.” I yawned again.

“Goodnight, you two. See you in the morning.” Frank nodded and Ronnie followed him out the door.

I saw Emma off to school the next morning and headed straight to the bar. I felt like I’d neglected it so much over the last few months. There was a note from Rachel taped to my office door. I took the note off, walked in my office, and had a seat in my squeaky old chair.

Jordie, you need to make a deposit, like NEED TO ASAP. If you’re going to continue to be the lovesick slacker that you’re being, you’re going to have to put me on the checking account. As much as I enjoy the rush from forging your signature, I’d rather be legit. Only so I can, ya know, pay bills, vendors, and employees. P Call me when you get this. Love u bitch. Xoxo.

“Love you too, bitch.” I chuckled.

I took out the bank bag and wrote out the deposit ticket. June 2. I stopped for a moment and smiled. My life had changed so much since that brisk night in March. I almost wished I could find the son of a bitch that hit me so I could thank him. I shook myself out from my day dreaming to finish the deposit and pay a few bills. After I finished, I noticed the blinking light on the phone. “Oh yay, voice mail,” I muttered sarcastically.

Three new messages.

The first message was a hang up, the second another hang up, and the third one was silence. My stomach twisted into a knot. The eerie silence that filled my office suddenly was broken by the sound of an alarm in the distance.

“That can’t be,” I whispered.

This time, without hesitation, I dug through my purse for my phone. I hit the speed dial to call Frank.

He answered on the first ring. “Jordan, are you all right?”

“Hi Frank, I have a weird message on the voice mail at the bar and I didn’t see Charles out there when I—”

“Elliot took over for Charles and gave him a ride back to the hotel. He should be back soon. We’ll be right there. Keep the door locked and stay put,” he instructed me before he hung up.

“Yes, sir.” I shoved my phone in my pocket as I walked up front to make sure I’d locked the door. “Good timing, kid.” I placed my hand over my stomach. “I could really use a smoke right now.” But I was now officially a non-smoker. A loud bang on the front door startled me. Who could that be? There was no way Frank had made it here that quickly.

“Who is it?”

Nobody responded.

“We’re closed, open up at five o’clock.” I yelled louder just in case there was someone there and they couldn’t hear me through the door.

Still no response though.

“Fuck this. I’m
not
playing games with you. I have a gun and I
will
shoot your sorry ass!” I yelled in the direction of the door before I hurried back to my office to arm myself.

The moment I stepped foot into my office the phone rang. Startled, I let out a small scream and jumped back. I shoved the chair out of the way, reached under my desk with one hand, and picked up the phone with the other, furious as hell.

“The Post,” I practically growled.

Silence.

“Ya know what, motherfucker, I’m tired of this sh—” I was interrupted by the sound of my own muffled voice saying, “Who is it? We’re closed, open up at five o’clock.” I slammed down the phone in a panic, cocked my gun, and grabbed my purse. I stopped and stood still for a moment to just try and collect my thoughts and calm myself down.
Just breathe, Jordan, you are fine. Breathe. You. Are. Fine. You’re locked up tight inside here with a loaded pistol. Fine,
I repeated to myself over and over until I was calm. I made my way towards the front door when suddenly a loud bang came from the back door.

“Go away, go the fuck away,” I screamed in tears. I spun around because I heard Nathan’s muffled shout from the front.

“Jordie, Jordan! Open the door! It’s Nathan.”

“Oh, thank god.” I breathed a sigh of relief and rushed to the door to unlock it.

Nathan, Frank, and Ronnie stormed through the door. Nathan swept me off to the side, checking me over, up and down with his eyes and hands.

“Baby, are you all right?”

Frank lifted my hand. I was still holding the gun. “Jordie, let me have this,” he said calmly as he gently loosened the death grip I had around it.

“Someone was banging on the doors and then called me. I guess they recorded me because they played it back when they called me...” I blurted out between my sobs and took some deep breaths in attempt to regain my composure.

“Ronnie,” Frank barked.

“I’m on it, boss.” Ronnie jogged off towards the back of the bar before Frank finished his instructions.

“Babe, breathe, calm down. Come sit,” Nathan begged me as he led me to my office.

I heard Frank lock the door, and Ronnie come back up front.

“All clear, Frank.”

Before he stepped into my office Frank told Ronnie to call Richard and ask him to swing by there with the phone records. He walked over to the phone, hit the speaker button, and asked me to retrieve the voice mail. I dialed the number and punched in the code. He picked up the receiver and took notes as he listened. I guessed he picked it up so I didn’t have to hear the message again. Nathan held my face between his hands, bringing my attention back to him.

“Seriously, are you all right?”

“I’m okay now.” I managed a small smile before I leaned in to give him a quick kiss.

After Frank was done with the messages, he and Ronnie continued to make sure everything was secure. They finally settled down after many rechecks.

Richard arrived about forty-five minutes later. When he walked in he greeted us cordially but I could tell something wasn’t quite right. He looked uncomfortable talking in front of Nathan and me. My suspicions were confirmed when he asked Frank to go speak in private.

“I’ll only tell them when you leave, Richard. Save me the trouble, please. It’s always better to hear things first hand.”

“All right, if you insist.” Richard shook his head reluctantly as he opened the folder in his hands and placed it on the bar.

“The phone calls that were being made to here and your home originated overseas. It took us a bit longer to collect the location data due to the fact it was outside of the U.S. and the sensitivity of the situation.”

“Sensitivity of the situation? Overseas? Why is someone from another country calling me?” I asked but my questions were ignored. “I mean, the shitty connection did remind me of the calls from Jason when he was deployed but there has to be some kind of mistake with your information.”

Frank and Richard exchanged an odd look for the briefest second. I guessed they thought I was the misinformed one because they went about their conversation as if I hadn’t said a word.

“I had to jump through hoops to get this info, Frank, and even still we can’t pinpoint exactly where the calls were made from. Which, as you know, will make identifying the caller a difficult task.”

All right then, Dicky, just ignore everything I say.
I slapped my hands on my thighs and huffed out a huge gust of air in frustration.

Frank and Richard stared at one another as if they were involved in a very intense silent conversation.

“The phone calls that just occurred came from a burn phone,” he continued.

“Burn phone?” I asked with the hope that this time my question wouldn’t be ignored.

“A prepaid cell phone often used to conduct illegal activity. It’s an inexpensive, simple cell phone that can’t be traced via a SIM card.”

I nodded my head, pretending to understand what he’d just said to me made sense, and suddenly I wished he had just continued ignoring me. It wasn’t as if my understanding any of what he said would’ve made any difference.

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