Second Chance Gold (Buck Reilly Adventure Series Book 4), John Cunningham [polar express read aloud .txt] 📗

Concepcíon, Gunner.” I cleared my throat. “I just wanted to see my old plane—”

“You mean you wanted to steal her.”

I shook my head. We were in a well-appointed hotel suite, maybe a private villa, I couldn’t tell which. The shades were drawn, but sunlight burned bright through the two large windows. Silhouettes of palm branches danced languidly on the shades.

“Where are we?”

“You’re lucky to be alive.” He glanced over his shoulder, lifted the blue sunglasses onto his forehead, and leaned in closer. “If I had my way—”

The door opened and Jack Dodson walked in. Gunner glared at me, then slid his shades back in place.

Jack walked over, his face hard. “Didn’t I tell you to stay away from me?”

“So did I,” Gunner said.

I cleared my throat again, which felt like a coffee grinder.

“I can’t believe you sent that shit to the FBI—”

“How many times did we need to warn you? Now I want you out of my way, permanently.”

“I can make that happen,” Gunner said.

“Don’t you two make a pretty pair?” I said. “You picked a winner with him, Jack. And how does Gutierrez fit in? He’s not just Cuban Secret Police, he’s a murderer and spy—”

“Tell us what you know about Jerry Atlas and Remy de Haenen.”

He was wearing a tight fitting black T-shirt and I now saw that his arms were now covered with tattoos. Prison tats. He looked every bit as muscular as Gunner, but in a tighter package.

He watched my eyes closely. “Prison changes a man, Buck. I did five years. Hard years. And I did you a favor by sending that information to the FBI. You’ll only do time. Gunner had different plans for you.”

“Still do,” Gunner said.

I pulled at the bonds, but Jack’s eyes remained hard. I wondered when the last time was that he’d smiled. Or laughed. Had he just turned in the money when e-Antiquity filed bankruptcy, he could have avoided jail. Me? My parents died as a result of my lies. That would never change, not in five years, not in fifty. And now I’d go to prison, thanks to Jack.

“You made your choice,” I said. “Neither of us got off easy. We were just dumb-asses consumed with greed, hanging onto the fantasy of wealth.” The bitter taste in my mouth made me smack my lips. “And look where it got us. Here we are, at each other’s throats.”

“I would sit in my cell or walk the prison yard, wondering what the fuck you were doing while I rotted from the inside out. It ate at me, every day.”

“You think my life’s been great? Walk a mile in my flip flops—”

“What do you know about the treasure!” He stepped forward and lowered his face close to mine.

Gunner took my right hand in both of his and started to squeeze. Pain exploded up my arm.

“The treasure!” Jack said. “This isn’t e-Antiquity. No King Buck, no Wall Street Journal.” He moved his face closer with each statement. “No public company, no analysts up our asses, no 10-K’s, 10-Q’s, no annual reports. Nothing!” Spit hit my face.

Gunner squeezed my hand harder.

“I don’t know shit! Jerry Atlas—his uncle—”

“Harry sent you, right? The day we bumped into each other in New York? Harry planned that. He’s using you, Buck. Trying to use me, too—”

“What the fuck are you—”

“He’s in cahoots with Lou Atlas! Sure, Jerry’s dead, but my guess is they know about the treasure and they’re manipulating you—and me—to find it!”

“If that’s what you thought, why didn’t we team up instead of you throwing me to the Feds—”

“What’d Harry tell you? That Lou wanted answers about his beloved nephew? Like he gave a rat’s ass!”

“The Concepcíon, Reilly!” Gunner said. “What have you learned?” He tightened his vise-like grip. Something popped.

“Hey—shit!”

“Tell us!” Jack sprayed me again with spittle. Who was this guy? Not my former partner, not by a long shot.

“Tell us!”

“Jerry bought Eden Rock from de Haenen and he fucking drowned on his Jet Ski—that’s all I know!”

Another squeeze and I almost blacked out as the room spun in a circle around my nose.

I told them about Antoine Construction and Henri saying they’d found nothing. I told them about the Dominicans who’d beaten Truck and Gisele.

“I’m not on this trail,” I said, “but you guys aren’t the only ones who are.”

Jack stood up, his expression murderous.

“How’s Laurie, Jack? The kids?” I caught my breath. “They know what you’re up to?”

His eyes didn’t change.

“My advice is to go home and turn yourself in, Buck. They may take a year off your sentence.”

“Great, thanks for the advice you son-of-a-bitch!”

Jack turned toward Gunner and nodded.

Gunner let go of my wrist and stood up.

“What are you—”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the gun.

Snap!

Fire consumed me—convulsions—seizure—

Blackness.

“Help!” I wasn’t sure how long I’d been shouting before the door swung open and a woman in a maid’s uniform stuck her head halfway in the door to glance around the small room.

“My hands and feet are tied to the bed, can you help me?” My throat was so dry my voice was brittle.

Clutching a broom in both hands like a club, she stepped inside.

“Where am I?” I said.

The bewilderment in her eyes turned to contempt.

“You don’t know? Must of been some night!” She leaned the broom against the wall, then stood at the foot of the bed and stared at me—though the sheet covered me from the waist down, I had no shirt on. “You naked under there? I don’t want to see no—”

“Please! Just untie my wrists—I was kidnapped!”

Her mouth twisted into a curl. “Umm-hmm.”

“Please. I’d really like to get out of here.”

After a deep breath and sigh, she stepped forward and untied my left wrist.

“I’ll untie the other hand, but you can do your own feet—I want out of here myself.”

“Fine, great. Thank you.”

She moved tentatively around the bed, eyeing me as if I might spring up and grab her.

“Seriously,” I said, “I have no idea where I am.”

“Like I said,