Head Above Water (Nightshade MC Book 4) (27 page)

“I'm not sure. Let me know if he calls back. I'm heading back in. I've got three more contracts to review before lunch.”

“Good luck. I'll let you know if he calls.”

Drea stress-ate the apple fritter she'd selected and gulped down her coffee before she picked up the phone and called Monroe. He answered on the first ring with the sound of tools in the background; he was on the job site. “Hey, it's me.”

“I knew that,” he replied and she could hear his grin. “What's up?”

“Matt called me on the GP land line. I was on the phone; Jillian tried to take a message, but he wouldn't leave a number, and the call came up restricted.” Drea felt her stomach churn sickly, eating the fritter that quickly hadn't been a good idea.

“You okay?”

“Of course I'm okay,” she answered, even though it might have been a lie. “Like I said, I didn't even speak to him. “I just figured that I should give you the heads up. If he's calling, something is just around the corner.”

“I know, which is why I'm sending Shawn to you now.”

“That is not necessary, Monroe. We're three perfectly capable women, and I'm pretty sure that Jillian brought her gun with her.”

“I have no doubt that the three of you are quite capable, but Shawn will be there in ten minutes.” His tone left no room for argument.

Drea didn't bother to protest. It wouldn't do her a bit of good. “I'll text you if he calls back.”

“You'd better. I've got to go. I'll see you as soon as I can, okay?”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you, too.” With that, he ended the call.

Drea finished her coffee before she got to her feet. In the reception area, Jillian was typing something and Casey was on the phone with someone. She poured another cup, grabbed a chocolate chunk cookie from the box and broke it in half. The buzzer rang just as she took her first bite.

“It's Shawn,” Drea spoke up. “Let him in, Jillian.”

He came in the door, filling the space. Shawn was one of the tallest men Drea had ever met. He was also broad-shouldered, with arms the size of small tree trunks. “Hey, I'm just going to hang out for a while.”

“There's coffee and pastries, if you want them,” Drea offered.

“Thanks. I think I'll take a look around outside first, though. Just wanted to let you know that I was here so I didn't freak you out. I really didn't want to get shot by one of you,” he added with a smile. “Shout if anything happens. I won't be far.” He left as quickly, and quietly, as he'd come in.

Jillian turned back to her work as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Casey looked curious, but she didn't ask any questions. Drea felt the nerves above her eye twitch and knew it was a harbinger of one hell of a headache headed her way. “Let me know if I get any calls. I've got to finish those damn contracts.”

The contracts seemed to take forever to finish, most likely because Drea couldn't help but jump each time the phone rang. All she could think of was Matt, why he'd called and when he was going to call back. Thinking of Matt made her think of Sarah. It had been about two weeks since their last, tense, conversation.

Sarah was full of resentment. Being a single parent wasn't what she'd signed up for. Drea was also pretty sure that she missed her husband, even if he was a cheating bastard. The friendship would never be what it had been. Since it meant that Sarah and the kids would be safe, Drea could live with it, because no matter how badly it sucked, it was miles better than the alternative.

When her stomach began to aggressively remind her that it was time to eat something, Drea looked over at the clock to see that it was nearly two. She was a little surprised that Casey hadn't come in to see if she wanted lunch. She needed some food, and some pills for the headache that was now a steady, nearly rhythmic, throb in her temples. “Did we forget about lunch?” she asked as she made her way into the reception area.

“I ordered Mac and Cheese about an hour ago but they were slammed. You got a bacon bliss burger, extra bacon,” Casey answered. “And onion rings. You looked like you needed a fat-filled lunch.”

“Thanks, Casey. I hope it gets here soon because my head is killing me.” Drea headed to the coffee pot and poured another cup. Caffeine was going to be her friend if she was going to be able to make it though the rest of the day. The phone rang, and for a second she held her breath.

“Drea, it's Matt,” Jillian said. “Do you want to take it in your office?”

“No, in here.” Drea set the cup down. “Casey, get Shawn and pull up the recorder on your phone.” Everything started to move at warp speed, including Drea's heart. She felt queasy when she answered the call on speaker. “This is Drea.”

“You kept me waiting long enough,” Matt said.

“What do you want, Matt?”

“Frankie's lost his fucking mind. For real this time. He's being extra irrational.”

“What's your point?” Drea glanced down to make sure Casey's phone was recording every word.

“My point is, he's off the rails, and he's coming for you. He's out of money, out of options and GP is going to be his ticket out of town.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I am,” he replied nearly at a shout. “You want to question my motives or do you want to know where Frankie will be tomorrow morning?”

Drea's hands shook as she texted Monroe. “How do I know that this isn't a frame-up? I show up where you tell me and it's an ambush? Do you remember me being stupid?”

“I remember you always being good to me,” Matt said. “And you put your neck on the line to protect my family after I fucked up. He'll be on Hampton Road, number twenty, at ten tomorrow morning for a meeting.”

“A meeting with who?” Drea demanded, but she was already talking to dead air. Matt had ended the call. “Did you get all of that, Casey?”

“Every word,” she said. “I don't know what's going on here, Drea. Not sure I really want to, but if this is heading towards me ending up in a lockdown again, I want to go home now. Distance myself.”

“I don't think that there's going to be a lockdown. If you want to go, it's okay by me.” Drea wasn't going to force her to stay. It dawned on her that maybe Casey's change in attitude lately was because of Nightshade, which didn't really make sense since she liked at all of the guys, especially Caesar.

“Maybe I should stay home tomorrow, too,” she added.

“That might be a good idea,” Drea replied. “Shawn, will you get Casey home?” Drea suddenly realized that maybe Nightshade was the reason that her friend, and employee, had been acting so oddly lately. It made her sad to think that was the reason, but she couldn't dwell on that right now.

“There's no need for that,” Casey said quickly, her purse already in hand. “Besides, I'm fairly confident Monroe told him to watch you, not follow me home.”

“Actually, he said I needed to keep all of you safe. So if you want to go, I'll get someone to take you, unless you want to wait until Monroe gets here. I can call Caesar,” Shawn offered.

“No, I can wait, I guess.” Casey walked back over to her desk, sat down, took out her phone and started to text.

Monroe should be there any minute. Shawn had arrived in about five minutes and it had to be nearly that long since she'd sent him the text. “Send that file to my phone, please, Casey.”

“Sure,” she replied. “And it's sent and I'm deleting it. Like I said, I want to be far away from whatever the outcome of this is.”

“Thanks for recording it,” Drea said. “I really appreciate it and you. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do. I'm awesome, though right now you might be thinking I'm a bitch, but I can't get pulled into anything.”

“You don't need to explain, Casey. It's okay.”

“I'm going to make coffee, not like I need it, but I'm going to make it anyway.” Jillian got to her feet. “And where is the food? I think we'll all be happier once we've eaten.”

Drea didn't think that there would be much time for eating once Monroe arrived, but the food came first. She ate automatically, knowing that she needed to coat her stomach against the pain pills she was going to take to try and thwart her headache. She sent him another text, felt a tightness in her chest when he didn't respond.

Something wasn't right. He should have been there by now.

Chapter Twenty.

Monroe kicked at a pile of debris in the basement. At one point or another, people had broken in to party and get high. There were moldy blankets, broken needles and bent spoons. “Be careful, don't get stuck with anything,” he cautioned the two men working with him.

Seth and Billy were new hires, both young and hard working. They'd looked surprised when he'd said he'd help them clear out the basement. It wasn't exactly glamorous work, but it would keep his mind occupied until he got Drea's text.

Minutes turned to hours, and then Monroe stopped noticing the time that passed. Instead, he saw the progress that they were making in clearing out the basement. The next step would be taking down and relaying the entire first floor. After that, they'd do the expansion, turning the two bedroom house into a four bedroom.

The initial walk through hadn't picked up on the extent of the damage, and that was a problem. He racked his brain to remember who'd been the one to do the estimate. The answer eluded him, but he knew that it was on the paperwork in his truck. “Guys, let's take a break. See you back here in fifteen?”

“I'm gonna grab coffee,” Seth announced. “Anyone want one?”

“Grab me one.” Monroe reached for his wallet, but Seth shook his head. “I'll get the next run.” He headed out of the basement, over to where he'd parked his truck. He grabbed the clipboard. Bones had been the one to do the estimate. It wasn't the first time that he'd done a shoddy job on an estimate, but it was probably his last. If his calculations were right, they were going to lose a good ten grand on this job, if not more. Buster was going to be pissed.

Monroe reached for his phone the instant that it began to ring. He was sure that it was going to be Drea, letting him know that Matt had called. Instead,  it was Claire. His first instinct was not to answer, let her leave a message and deal with her shit later. The ringing stopped and then started again. “What's going on, Claire?”

“I don't feel well. I can't keep anything down. Can you please bring me some soup and crackers?”

“I'm working, Claire. There are plenty of places that deliver soup.”

“I'm aware of that. Those places aren't the one who got me knocked up, Monroe. You are. And if you're not willing to man up for all that means, I think that we're going to be at an impasse.'

“All that it means doesn't mean me being with you, Claire. Jesus fuck, I'm married. How dense are you? The only thing we did was fuck. You knew what you were getting into when you started to come around. You made your choice. Can't turn back the hands of time now.”

“You're going to be sorry you said that,” she promised in a hiss before ending the call.

Monroe sighed. He'd been harsh, knowing that she wouldn't take it well, hoping that it would open her eyes to the way that things were going to be. Instead he'd just pissed her off. In hindsight, it wasn't the best move. He could practically hear Buster's voice nagging in his head.

Claire could tell secrets, or she could decide to end the pregnancy. He wouldn't put it past her, especially if she'd realized just how much the idea of being a father was growing on him. His own father had done some jail time, disappeared out of his family's lives when Monroe was about six or seven. Truthfully, it hadn't been much of a loss.

His mother and grandmother had raised him. They'd both been remarkable women. Claire was not a remarkable woman, and he was fairly certain that she was too self-centered to ever be a good mother. Not for the first time, he wished that it had been Drea who had gotten pregnant. She was remarkable, and she would be the amazing mother his child deserved. Maybe her presence would balance out the damage Claire was bound to do.

His phone chimed, the sound he'd set for text messages. He looked down, expecting it to be Drea, but once again it wasn't. This time it was Buster, checking to see if Matt had called back and how the job was going. Instead of texting back, Monroe called. “Hey, no word from the douchebag yet. And I think we need to talk about this job.”

“What's going on?”

“I think Bones might have missed a few things, like the fact that the first floor is completely fucked. We've got to rip it out and replace it. Looks like we'll need to replace some pipes to keep it from happening again.”

“Fucked how?”

“Rotted.”

“Go inside and put me on video call. I want to see what you're talking about before I go downstairs and talk to Bones.”

It took Monroe about ten minutes to walk Buster through the house, point out what he'd seen. By the time they were done, Buster wanted him to do a whole new evaluation so they knew what they were dealing with financially.

The couple who they were renovating the house for had inherited the property. It was their chance to move their kids out of a cramped two bedroom apartment where everyone was under everyone else's feet. Even though the property had been free and clear when they inherited it, there was significant expense involved in the renovation, and they weren't wealthy people. Monroe knew that Nightshade Construction wasn't going to charge them more; the company would absorb the loss. Bones was going to get his ass handed to him, though, there was no way around that.

After he ended the call with Buster, he headed back to his truck to grab a notebook and the tools he'd need. “Guys! We're quitting for the day. I've got to do another walk through, and it's going to take a while. I'll see you all tomorrow at breakfast.”

He headed into the house and left the workers to sort leaving out themselves. Monroe decided to go from the basement up, meticulously noting everything he'd noticed. In the process he found an infestation of rats in and under the enclosed back porch and evidence of squirrels in the attic. By the time he was done, he wanted a shower and a nice cold beer.

It was only once he was heading back towards his truck that he took out his phone. He nearly dropped the device when she saw there were two unread text messages. Both were from Drea, the first had come through about forty minutes before. Monroe cursed himself for not checking for messages after he'd ended the video call with Buster. He must have missed the notification.

Before he got in the truck, he dialed her number. She answered  the phone on the first ring, but he didn't give her a chance to speak. “I'm on my way, I didn't see the notification on my phone. I was on a video call. I'm sorry.”

“Slow it down, Monroe. You don't need to rush. Everything is fine here. Ace and Shawn are keeping an eye on us.”

“Ace is there?”

“Buster sent him to check in, said you were doing something important.”

“There was a problem on the job site that I had to take care of,” he explained as he pulled the truck away from the curb. “I'm sorry, hon.”

“Don't be, I'm okay and we might have a lead on Frankie, or maybe it's just an invitation to an ambush,” she said dryly. “One way or the other, we'll know soon enough. I'll see you when you get here.” She ended the call without saying anything further.

Monroe put the pedal down, got to GP in record time. He reached the door, found it locked and banged his fist against it until he heard the buzzer release.

“You still knock like the police,” Ace pointed out once he was inside.

“Where's everyone?”

“Jillian and Drea are in Drea's office. I rolled them a couple of joints, told them to go smoke. The anxiety in this place was so high that I swear the air was buzzing. Grab a seat, I'll play you the conversation.”

“I don't need to sit.” Monroe glanced to the office where the door was shut. “Just play it already.”

Matt sounded desperate, while Drea had managed to sound almost bored. Monroe felt a surge of pride that she'd kept her cool. It smelled like a setup, it was too good to be true that the man would give up his best friend, Frankie, after all this time.

“Hold on a second, pause that and go back ten seconds. What address did he just say?” Monroe desperately wished that he'd heard wrong, but he knew he hadn't.

“I wondered if you'd catch on to that. What reason would Frankie have to be going to Claire's new place?” Ace asked.

“I have no clue, but I think that we're going to need to find out. How did you know it was Claire's address?”

“I had a friend at the utility company pull up the information for that house. Pretty nice neighborhood for someone who quit her day job. I overheard her talking about it with Chastity and that new girl.”

The wheels in Monroe's mind started to spin. If Claire had actually quit her job, how was she paying for everything except the rent? He wasn't giving her money for anything else. “Does Buster know about this yet?” He could only imagine the disapproval he was going to be facing.

“He's gonna meet us at the clubhouse. Wants to sit down and the table, formulate a strategy.” Ace looked back towards the office. “Figured we'd head out when those two are done.”

“Did you tell Drea that you recognized the address?”

“No, just the club,” Ace replied.

“Good.” It wasn't the right time to tell Drea, not when she'd already been on edge and worried all day. From the smell now creeping out from beneath the door, he figured that she was probably pretty relaxed at the moment.

<#<#<#<#

“Obviously, this is a problem on a couple of levels,” Buster said after playing the recorded call for all of Nightshade.

“Only a couple?” Train asked dryly. Buster shot him a look that made the tension level in the room rise up several notches.

“He's right. This is all fubar,” Caesar said, anger evident in his voice and face. “We're probably walking into an ambush. Claire's in bed with Frankie, there's no way she's not. And we don't know why or what she knows, but she definitely knows something with all the time she spent here and the access that she had. We trusted her.”

“We could grab her,” Manuel said. “Get her to tell us what the fuck is going on. Hell, we don't even need to grab her, all we've got to do is have Monroe call her. She'll come running like a happy puppy.”

“She'd come,” Monroe agreed. “She'll be pissed when she realizes she got duped. I'm not sure that she'll even talk once she knows the real reason.”

“So, we make her talk,” Caesar pressed on.

“She's a woman and she's pregnant,” Buster pointed out. “How exactly do you suggest that we do that?”

“She was around for the shit with Missy, knows that Royal took her out for what she'd done regardless of her condition,” Train said thoughtfully. “Might be enough to make her think that we would use force to find out what we want to know.”

“And if she thinks that we're bluffing?” Ace chimed in. “I've got an idea but no one is going to like it.”

“Let's hear it,” Buster leaned back in his chair.

“Claire wants Monroe to be hers; I think we can all agree on that. What if we use that?” Ace looked around the table.

“Use it how?” Monroe asked skeptically. He had an idea where this was going, and he didn't like it one bit.

“You call her. Tell her that you want to talk, you've been thinking about things and realize that maybe you've made some wrong choices. Reel her in. Make her think that you're coming around to the idea of the two of you,” Ace finished and waited for a response.

Monroe hated that he'd been right on the mark with what he thought that Ace was going to say. Even more, he hated that it would probably work, even if the mere idea made him want to throw up. “It could work,” he admitted reluctantly. “Got to say, though, it's the last thing that I want to do.”

“Sometimes, we've got to do the things that we don't want to do. I know this is asking a lot, especially since things just got on an even keel with Drea, but I think that it's truly our only shot,” Buster said.

“I didn't say that I wouldn't do it. It's what's best for Nightshade.” He had no intention of letting it go to a vote. There was no need for that. “Before I do anything, I need to talk to Drea.”

<#<#<#<#

Drea and Jillian were in the kitchen, making microwave popcorn and still giggling. Monroe really needed to find out what weed Ace gave them to smoke, because Drea could use more of it in her life. She was always so tense. What he was about to tell her was going to blow her high, that was for sure. “Hey, hon. Got a minute?”

“For you, I've got all the time in the world.” She grinned and turned to face him. “Do you want some popcorn?”

“Not right now. Come on, let's head out back.”

“I'll finish up the popcorn, meet you back out there for the movie,” Jillian said.

“Thanks,” Drea replied. The smile was gone from her face. She started towards the back door without saying anything else. “Something happened. What?”

“The address that Matt gave you is actually the address to the new place that Claire just moved to. Tomorrow, Frankie is meeting Claire.” Monroe knew that she'd taken the news worse than he thought she would when she started to laugh.

“Of course, it is. Of course,” she said when she finally stopped. “And that's not all, is it?”

“No, it's not.” He told her the rest as straight out as he could. “I need her to talk, to tell me what the fuck is going on with her and Frankie. There's only one way that's going to happen as far as I can see.”