No One Knows Part 33

Josh knew it was stupid. He knew it was a massive gamble.

But the idea that he'd be free was intoxicating. Kill two birds with one stone-get Allen off his back and get out from under the blackmail. Start his life with Aubrey anew. Finish his schooling and go do some good for a change.

Josh kept to his schedule, his plan. When Allen called the meeting, he hung up the phone and told Aubrey he was pulling an extra shift at the morgue.

And Aubrey, sweet, loving, kind Aubrey, smiled and fixed him a sack lunch so he'd have some fuel besides coffee to sustain him overnight.

Josh drove the Audi to the river, looking vainly in the mirror for people following him. He didn't know if he could make yet another week like this, pretending, living a charade, not being honest with anyone, including himself.

Allen was waiting for him. Every time Josh walked into the warehouse, he was reminded of a scene from one of his favorite movies, Ocean's Twelve. And the fact that a heist film was one of his favorites wasn't lost on him. Maybe he had a bit of criminal in him after all. After his father's escapades, Josh was wondering if it was in his blood. Not this reluctant "can't believe I'm involved in this" feeling, but the idea that perhaps he was a mastermind in his own right, that he was just like the Night Fox.

No, that wasn't a good comparison. The Night Fox was a dupe. He fell for the long con and lost everything-his reputation most of all.

Though maybe it was a perfect comparison after all. Josh had allowed himself to be duped by Allen from the get-go.

The staging area, as Allen liked to call it, was a card table with a large paper map of Nashville spread on it. Allen held a pointer in his hand. He watched Josh walk to the table. Josh felt like sticking a finger in his collar and loosening it. His throat stuck, and sweat bloomed across his forehead.

He knows. He knows. He knows I'm going to screw him.

Son of a bitch.

He was fucked.

Allen gave a mock bow. "Nice of you to finally show up."

Josh crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. Didn't offer any more. He'd learned the hard way: all Allen needed was a little ammunition. An excuse would do nothing but make the man attack.

Allen stared at him again, long and hard.

"We have an issue."

Josh just raised an eyebrow. Nonchalant. Uncaring. Inside his guts were twisting and his mind was screaming. He was going to die. He could just feel it.

"Here's the thing, Hamilton. The buyer wants to meet you, face-to-face. He wants assurances."

"No way. I'm not meeting with some dealer."

"Oh, yes, you are. You're going to assure him you can continue providing the product and prescriptions. I'm going to assure him I can continue bringing in the high-grade blow. And together, we'll shake his hand, and then you're going to take a wad of cash off him."

Josh felt the heat begin to rise. Play it, Josh. "You want me to rob him? No. Absolutely not."

Allen turned cold. Josh was reminded of a snake, coiled and waiting, impassive, safe only if left unprovoked. "No isn't part of the equation. You're going to do this. You're going to do it right. And we're going to walk away very, very rich men."

"I can't. I have no idea how to pull it off."

Allen cleared his throat. "Stop being such a pussy. I'll walk you through every step."

Josh glared at him. Play along. Be yourself. Be the timid guy he knows and loves.

"No way, no how. I can't do this. I'll screw it up. I'm a doctor, for God's sake, Derek. I'll blow it."

"No, you won't. You'll be fine. There's just one catch."

"Just one? What's that?"

"I don't know what night it's going to go down. My contact is flying in, but for security reasons he won't tell me when."

Josh ran his hands through his hair. "Derek. Don't make me do this."

"You're doing it, and that's final."

It was another two hours before Allen dismissed him, after drills upon drills of how they were going to make this work.

Finally, he set down the pointer. "Good. That will work. Now, come here, kid. We need to have a chat."

Josh felt his heart jump into his throat again. Maybe he was wrong; maybe Allen did know. Fuck.

"Have a seat."

Josh took the chair. At this point, if he argued anymore, Allen was going to get suspicious. But he was caught by surprise.

"I'm really proud of you, kid. This is an important deal, the biggest one of my career. This dude is big-time, and I don't want his people thinking they can push me around. We're gonna show him we're strong, unstoppable."

"One question. Why?"

"Because I need them to understand I'm the right guy to do business with, and that we're going to be doing things my way, not theirs. We need to send the right message. We aren't going to be bought. They're going to work with us. For us. We're the ones with the product they want. And you're the one who can make it happen for me. You're my leverage. I just wanted to say thank you."

Josh was shocked, and his face certainly didn't hide that. Allen laughed. "I know. That sounds crazy to you. But you've added an element of class to this operation. You're smart, and I trust you. Do you see any issues with the plan?"

"Outside of me being the one who's supposed to rob this guy, and the fact that if I screw it up, his people will probably hunt us down and kill us both? No. It's solid."

"You're going to do fine. Don't worry about it. He won't see you coming. Just stick to the program and you'll sail right through." He hung an arm over Josh's chair, leaned in, the good cheer gone. "One last thing. You realize if I go down, we all go down, right?"

"Always."

"Good. I'm pretty sure this will happen sometime this weekend. So be ready. And no leaks."

"I can't this weekend."

"Yes, you can. And you will."

"No, seriously. My best friend is getting married, and I'm in charge of his bachelor party. I'm tied up the whole weekend. I'm the best man. I can't just not show up."

"I don't give a fuck." He smiled. "When I give you the signal, you're going to get yourself in place and get me that briefcase. Do you understand?"

"What's the signal?"

Allen stood, effectively dismissing Josh. "Trust me. You'll know."

CHAPTER 57.

Chase Aubrey shouldn't have forgiven him. Not that she'd said the words, exactly; there'd been no benediction, no blessing, just a sad stroke of his forehead and those limpid eyes, hurt flaring inside them, then compassion at his confusion.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he have allowed himself to be manipulated like this? He thought he was the one doing the game playing, yet it had all been a big joke on him, hadn't it? He'd lost Aubrey for good, and he was in over his head with this story.

He drove away from Aubrey's house, drove in circles for an hour, looping through Nashville, until he found himself at the hospital.

He wound his way around the crazy hallways. He finally found Daisy's room, but it was empty. A nurse at the central station told him she'd been taken back into surgery, and he could wait in the surgical floor lounge.

He hurried there, only to find Tom sitting defeated in a chair. He was asleep, chin in hand, a cooling cup of coffee to his right.

He should wake him, ask to help. Tell him Daisy was his mother, that he should be on watch with her. Sharing the duties.

He started forward, then stopped himself. What was he going to do? Wait? There were no answers here. She wouldn't know he was there. She wouldn't want to meet him like this.

Out then, into the Nashville evening again. To the drunken girls wandering Lower Broad and the anonymity of the tourist-packed streets, the vast sameness of it all.

He tried to lose himself. He walked the streets of SoBro for an hour, one thought purling through his mind.

He wanted Aubrey back. How was he going to get her back?

He drove his rental to the Sheraton, booked a room for the night. He took the elevator up to a space that was a replica of every hotel room he'd ever been in, took a shower, lay on the bed. How royally had he fucked up?

He should call her. Call and beg to come back over, to talk. To explain again, to find a way to make her understand. To find a way to keep her safe.

He didn't care about any of it, just knew that the thought of never seeing her again made him quiver in pain. He could fix this. He knew he could.

He started to dial her number, but hesitated. He shouldn't ask permission; he should just go over there, sweep her into his arms, use his body to explain. He had to do something to shake off this hideous feeling of dread that he was about to lose everything.

Because if he truly did lose Aubrey for good, he'd never forgive himself.

There was a knock at the hotel room door. He thought about ignoring it, but whoever it was, anything would be a welcome distraction from his current thoughts.

He set down the phone and flung open the door, only to be greeted by a familiar face.

"Hello, Chase."

CHAPTER 58.

Aubrey Five Years Ago When Nashville Metro stood her in front of the white board for her mug shot, Aubrey cringed. She couldn't believe they'd arrested her. How they could think she'd murdered Josh?

The minute the cops figured out that she had a juvie record, they started pushing her, hard, and she lost it. On went the cuffs. It was unfair, and frightening, and she didn't know what to do. Thankfully, Arlo had hooked her up with a defense attorney who worked at the firm he'd interned in. The firm encouraged pro bono work, and so the lawyer was jovial, albeit a little reserved. His name was Hornby. Reginald Hornby. Call me Reg. He met with her on a Thursday, when it looked like the cops might actually try to press charges against her, nearly a week after Josh had disappeared. Asked all sorts of questions.

What was your relationship like?

Not was like, is like. It's very good. We love each other. We've loved each other for years, since we were kids.

And do you argue?

Like everyone, we have occasional spats. Nothing serious.

Money issues?

Of course. Josh is in medical school. It's expensive. But we have a budget, stick to it. Nothing unmanageable.

And you work a second job to help make ends meet?

Yes. Is that a bad thing?

No, no, just asking. Trying to get to know you and your relationship.

Aren't you going to ask if I did it?

Nope. I don't want to know.

What do you mean, you don't want to know?

First rule of criminal defense, Mrs. Hamilton. The less I know about exactly what and how you committed the crime, the better.

For the record, I didn't. This is all bullshit.

Of course it is, dear. Now. Was your husband seeing anyone else?

Are you kidding? Of course not. He wouldn't cheat on me. He wouldn't.

Don't get upset. I need to cover all the bases. Did he have any vices? Drugs? Alcohol? You know how these med students like their speed.

My husband would never do drugs. We have experience with that, in our family, and he knows what a bad road it is.

All right. He sounds like a pretty nice guy. Now, I need to hear everything about the night Josh disappeared. Start to finish.

And so she told him.