Kristmas Collins (28 page)

He shrugged. “I just report the news. The truth don’t lie.”

“Well, if that’s all Christmas is about, the one thing I know about finance is that if you wanna make money you gotta invest. These folks invested in each other, and you know what their ROI was? Friendship, family, belief, hope. You can’t buy that. And I also know that if you don’t invest, and just stick your money under your mattress, then all you get is to wake up on Christmas morning in a cold, lumpy bed.”

“Investing can be risky if you don’t know what you’re doing. You can lose everything. I’d rather wake up in that cold bed with my twenty million dollars.”

She shook her head with disgust. “I can’t believe you took that money from Kris. He saved your business, the least you could do is help him save his ass without getting paid for it.”

“I put all our futures on the line to help him, so I took my fair share. It’s business. You wanna keep believing in your fairy tales, knock yourself out.”

“You mean like marriage?”

Duma sighed. “It always gets back to that with you.”

We drove the half hour from Greenwich to the sleepy town of Bethel, Connecticut, which was even sleepier than usual on Christmas Eve. This made it the perfect spot to launch our operation.

Bethel also happened to be the birthplace of PT Barnum, which I thought was fitting for the three-ring circus I was running tonight.

We pulled off Route-53 onto a winding rural road, which took us to the gates of a deserted industrial park. As we did, it began to snow. Another bad omen in a day of them. We weren’t the first to arrive. In fact, we were in the middle of a convoy of 18-wheelers that were pulling in as if this were a rest-stop along the interstate.

Alyson had left the helicopter at Wainwright Manor, and we took my vehicle, which Gooch was nice enough to bring to Greenwich tonight for me, while also driving my children to their grandparents’ house. He must have really been in the Christmas spirit.

Thoughts of Gooch made me nervous. His disappearance was disconcerting, to say the least. But based on our brief history together, if he
was
here, we probably wouldn’t know it until it was too late.

I squinted through the darkness to view what was left of the building that used to be a warehouse for Kerstman Publishing. The place where they’d store the books prior to being shipped off to bookstores around the world, back when there were still bookstores around the world. The government had confiscated and sold off all of Kerstman’s assets, but this warehouse, along with its many broken-down delivery trucks, was considered a liability. Especially after someone, presumably making a statement about Kerstman greed, attempted to burn it to the ground. It had remained abandoned ever since.

I gripped tightly to the coffee-filled Styrofoam cup as I stepped out of the vehicle. It seemed that it was ten degrees cooler up here, and the strong wind made it feel like I was going to be blown away. But there was no time to whine—the trucks kept rolling in, each driven by one of Harry’s elves. And my fears about their sobriety level was put to rest—as far as I could tell the only things the Puff Daddies had brought along for the ride were veggie burritos and tie-dye parkas.

The moment each truck came to a stop, the back doors were swung open, and the loot was transferred into the many abandoned Kerstman delivery vans. Toys, clothing, bikes, you name it—one truck was completely filled with Christmas trees. More trucks kept arriving, rinse and repeat. Alyson and I joined in—all hands were on deck, there wasn’t a second to lose. We needed to get out of here before our presence attracted any attention.

The Amigos were present, prepping as they always did—carefree laughter from Berto and Gustavo, while Tomás was his usual tense self. When they spotted me, specifically my reindeer sweater, Gustavo couldn’t resist busting my chops. When I told him that my daughter made me wear it, Berto broke into laughter. But Tomás was quietly focused on the bloodstains, a reminder of the danger we faced tonight.

“I think reindeer sweaters are hot,” a female voice came from underneath the hood of one of the vans.

The mechanic smiled at me. She was dressed head to toe in black, except for the strand of blonde hair hanging out of her visor beanie hat. She had engine-grease smudged on her pretty face, adding to the camouflage. But I doubted she’d ever go unnoticed, and was fairly certain that her plentiful curves would show up on Google Earth.

But when Sophie looked closer at me, she grew concerned. “Kris—oh my God! What happened to your face?”

I made the obligatory joke about ‘you should see the other guy’, but if she did, I hoped she’d let me know so we could try to make a run for it.

She ran her gloved hand over my cheek and planted a soft kiss on it. It actually made it feel better. I was no doctor, but I was convinced that Sophie was capable of curing diseases with just her touch.

She pointed a wrench-filled hand at one of the vans that she’d been working on—they hadn’t been driven in years. “I got three more to check, but the rest are good to go. For the most part, they were in better shape than I would have expected. Mostly needed new batteries and air in the tires.”

“You are a woman of many talents,” I commented. I would have never guessed in a million years that she had this skill-set, until she came to me seeking advice in regards to her plans to open a garage when her dancing days are over. When she offered to do some work on my vehicle in return, I found out that she was the real deal.

“Maybe too many,” she said, shamefully looking down at the ground.

“What do you mean?”

“You need to know something.”

I was in a major hurry, and anybody else I would have been short with, but it was impossible to be mad at Sophie. “Can this wait until later?”

“I’m worried that you guys are going to end up in a trap tonight. And it will be all my fault.”

“What’s this about, Sophie?”

“My past.”

“We all have a past—welcome to the club.” I smiled at her, but she didn’t return it.

“After I left home and moved to California, I ended up working as an escort. And I think you know what kind I mean.”

I did—every time a Hollywood madam got busted running an “escort” agency, my phone would ring off the hook with my freaked out clients worried that names were going to be named. Specifically theirs. “Does Zee know?”

“I’ve been totally honest with him. He was the only person I’ve trusted with my secret … until now.”

“Then I don’t see the problem.”

“A lot of the girls who worked for the agency were underage, and when I got busted by the feds, I was given immunity to testify. The guys who ran it went to jail. They threatened to get revenge on whoever was responsible for taking them down. So I moved across the country, changed my name, and altered my appearance.”

“If you need some sort of protection from these people, we can get it for you. I’m just not sure what this has to do with us ending up in a trap tonight?”

“The FBI ran my picture in their system, after the fight in the club the other night. My real identity came up, and Falcone tried to use it against me. He cornered me at Zee’s apartment and tried to get me to convince him to wear a wire, so that he could get the dirt on what you guys were doing up in Vermont. He made it be known that if I didn’t, he would let it slip about my new life to the people I helped put away. And they’re some bad dudes.”

She began to cry, and the black grease ran down her face. “So you agreed to work with Falcone?”

“I refused—so he went directly to Zee. You know how loyal Zee is, if it came down to protecting me he might agree to help them.”

“I’ve known Zee since we were kids—there’s no way he’d ever put us in jeopardy.”

“He’s in a no-win situation. If he chooses you, then he’ll feel horrible that he put me in danger. And if he chooses me, and hurts you, he would never be able to live with himself.”

“That’s when Zee’s at his best.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you ever see him pitch?”

“No, I never watch sports.”

“The thing about him was that the more trouble he’d get in—like when he loaded the bases with nobody out—the better he’d get. When most pitchers would be stressed by the situation, Zee would find calm. And you know what, more times than not he’d get out of the jam without any damage.”

“But this isn’t baseball.”

“You’re right, it’s not—it’s high-stakes gambling. And I’m willing to bet my life that he’ll find a way to get out of this one.”

The semi-truck crossed over the Massachusetts border, and Zee pulled it into the rest area. He found driving a train much more natural.

He parked, leaving the truck idling, and entered “the sleeper” behind the driver-cab. He untied the rope that held Nicole Closs’ hands together, and removed the blindfold. Her children were sleeping and he tried not to disturb them.

“Where are you taking us?” she demanded. She’d given up being scared long ago, and was now just pissed off.

“I’m going to leave the truck in Boston. I will help you get a ride home at that point, and will cover the costs.”

“Wow—he actually speaks,” she said. It was the first time he’d uttered more than a sentence since Kris put him in charge of her.

“I hope that will be agreeable to you.”

“Suddenly you care what I think? I don’t remember having a say in any of this.”

Without any better options, she joined him in the driver cab. “I don’t get it,” she continued, as the truck rolled out of the rest area and back onto the dark highway. “You people hijacked us because you claimed we were in danger. But now you’re just going to drop us off and pay for a ride home like nothing happened?”

“You are no longer Scroggie’s target—he’s going after Kris’ children.”

She momentarily stared out the front windshield at the endless highway—every parent could relate, no matter what she thought of Kris.

“He told me the reason they came after me was that they thought Kris had, to use his words, a thing for me. What’s that all about?”

“I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.”

“How is that even possible?”

“Your attractive, intelligent, and very passionate. I would think it would be very possible.”

“You guys are the strangest hostage-takers ever. I met him once, and I made it very clear what I think of him.”

Zee shrugged. “Once Kris connects with someone he will go to the end of the earth for them. That’s why so many people are loyal to him.”

“We never connected—we never even had a conversation.”

“You might not have connected with him, but he did with you.”

“Sounds like you’re describing some psycho, or a stalker.”

“No, I’m talking about a loyal friend.”

“From what I’ve heard, he was more loyal to the crook who stole my life than to his own wife.”

“Everyone loses their way sometimes. All I know, is that when things got foggy for me he was my guide.”

She blew out a frustrated breath. “And now you’re returning the favor? I hope it’s worth it, since you’re probably going to end up in prison.”

“He saved my life, but it’s more than that. He has a way of making people believe in something, and he made me believe in the most important thing there is.”

“Based on what I know about Kris Collins, he thinks the most important thing is Kris Collins.”

“No—he made me believe in myself. And when you believe in yourself, and only then, can you give yourself to others. And life can get pretty lonely if you don’t figure that out.”

“I’m happy that he helped you turn your life around, I really am. But I didn’t ask for any of this. He put my children at risk, and that’s unacceptable.”

“That wasn’t his intention. And I know this, he’d take a bullet for you before he’d let anyone hurt them. How many people do you know that would give up their life for yours?”

After a long silence, she said, “The man who vowed to do that decided to give up his life to solve his own pain.”

Zee completely understood. The pain would never go away, but hopefully the guilt would. “It’s not your fault, you know.”

“For a guy who supposedly doesn’t talk, you sure have a lot to say.”

“I blamed myself for the longest time. I know it’s crazy, but I thought I could have stopped it if I just did things different that morning. But I eventually realized that you can’t control people—in the end they’re going to do what they’re going to do.”

Nicole began to get emotional, but then she glanced into the rear-view mirror and her expression changed. “You were starting to get me to believe that you and your friend Kris Collins were trustworthy guys. But these police lights coming up behind us reminds me that you two are involved in transporting stolen goods in this truck … just like the money that was stolen from us and the other Kerstman families who won’t be having Christmas this year … again!”