“Hooper, if anything happens to Shauna, you can have it.”
#
Earlier in the day, Manny had set up the GPS tracking system in Sam’s personal car. He was three blocks from Shauna, but the signal was clear and strong. He’d had a weird feeling all day, ever since he found out about this dinner tonight before the event. He wasn’t going to wait for Davis to bring Shauna to the hotel—he was going to make sure they went straight to the hotel.
So far, they were heading toward the Hyatt. Sam alerted Manny that they were on their way.
He trailed behind, keeping two to three blocks back on L Street as they traveled west. He tensed when the limo passed 11th Street—they should have turned before 11th for valet parking, or on 11th if they were going to park themselves.
But the GPS said Shauna was still traveling west on L Street.
He called John. “Davis isn’t going to the hotel. They just passed 4th Street.”
“Where are you?”
“The light at 9th. Okay, I’m going now. They’re still moving west.”
“Hold on.”
Sam continued down L Street. Davis’s limo made the last turn before crossing the Sacramento River—he was heading into Old Sac.
Dooley’s was closed—he’d closed earlier, after the funeral and wake—but he might still be there. Why would Austin Davis be taking Shauna to Dooley’s? Did she ask him to? Sam didn’t think she would deviate from the plan.
John got back on the phone. “We can’t get a read on her transmitter,” he said. “Melanie thinks she’s out of range.”
“They’re in Old Sac. I’m going to park and walk to Dooley’s, that’s where I think they’re headed.”
“Sam, wait for back-up. Hooper and I are on our way.”
“Where’s Jason?”
“He’s not here, either, and his transmitter is out of range as well.”
“Unless Austin found out they were wired and is blocking them.”
Sam hung up and parked illegally. Old Sac on the weekends was always crowded. Dooley’s would have been too, if not for Mack’s funeral.
He spotted the limo, but couldn’t tell if anyone was inside. Then the door opened.
Shauna, in the long, glamorous green gown, stepped out first. Her face was stoic, but her posture was rigid.
Sam pushed up against the brick wall across the street, hoping he was out of sight. But Shauna wasn’t looking anywhere but at Dooley’s.
Austin Davis stepped out behind her and took her arm. She shook him off, then he grabbed it. Sam resisted the urge to intervene. He didn’t know where Jason and Amelia Shepherd were, or why Davis had brought Shauna here. The lights were off in Dooley’s and a sign that Sam couldn’t read from this distance, but he knew it explained they were closed for a family emergency.
The limo pulled away from the curb and Davis and Shauna walked around to the back of Dooley’s. A key pad would let them in through the security system. Wouldn’t Shauna alert someone? Maybe set the alarm off?
He watched the limo slowly drive off. She wouldn’t do anything if Jason Butler was in jeopardy.
Austin Davis had played them all, and now Shauna was trapped, alone, with that bastard.
Chapter Nineteen
“I want that baseball,” Austin said. “And then all will be right.”
Shauna disarmed the security system in the back room. She considered setting off the alarm, but Austin said he’d have that bitch Amelia Shepherd kill Jason if she did anything to alert the police.
She needed to buy the time. Sam would know something was wrong when they didn’t show up at the Hyatt. He’d find her. She had to believe that. Maybe he was here now. She glanced right and left, but didn’t see anyone in the alley.
Austin leaned over and whispered in her ear, “I disabled the transmitters you and Mr. Butler were wearing. No one knows where we are, and no one knows what we’re talking about.” He poked her back with the gun he’d shown her in the limo. “By the time your cop finds you and Butler, you’ll be dead and I’ll be in a country far, far away.”
She opened the door and he pushed her inside, then closed and locked it. He pushed her through the storeroom and into the main bar.
Dooley’s was empty. She wasn’t used to it being so dark and quiet at nine in the evening. Only the security lighting above the bar and front door were on, casting round shadows throughout the large room.
“Get me the baseball.” He gestured to behind the bar. “And remember, no tricks. The limo will be out front in five minutes, and if we’re not waiting, Amelia will shoot your former fiancé. Late? No matter. I don’t need or want him. He thought he was smarter than me, trying to set me up for the FBI. I wondered how he got out of prison so early—they made him a nice deal. I knew as soon as you told me he talked to you that he must have brought you into his scheme.” He held up his cell phone and pressed a button.