Keeping in touch through the two-way radios, Michael's group hooked up with Joe after he gave them directions to the gas station where he had stopped. The few remaining hours of nighttime seemed to crawl as the two vehicles, traveling with at least a block between them, took numerous detours away from main thoroughfares. Near dawn, the traffic began picking up with delivery trucks and early morning proprietors beating the regular work crowd who would pack the streets bumper to bumper soon after sunrise.
Joe, being in the lead vehicle, determined their detouring routes until they could pick up the Sunshine State Parkway far enough outside the city so they would be less apt to encounter a patrol car.
Approximately six hours later when they came to Wildwood, everyone was breathing easier. Stopping at a car rental place, they decided to trade the two cars for two others, just in case the police had a make on the cars. Then they had a late breakfast and got back on the road.
No one said a great deal during their drive from Miami, all keenly aware they could be the source of an APB. All the men in both cars kept their eyes pealed for patrol cars, careful to flow at the speed of traffic to avoid drawing attention.
“Chelle, I think it's safe to take off your wig now,” Michael said.
“Are you sure?” Rochelle asked. “I was sort of getting used to wearing it.” She was snuggled up against Michael and loving the feel and texture of his body next to her.
“I'm sure,” he said, reaching up and playfully plucking the wig off her head. Her long auburn-gold curls tumbled off her head and down over her shoulders. Michael ran his fingers in her hair, and pressed a kiss upon her cheek.
They had all changed their seating arrangements following breakfast. Leland went to ride with Udell and Curly, and Ramm took the wheel of the lead car. Joe rested on the passenger seat after having driven all the way from Miami. Rochelle and Michael sat in the back seat.
“Miss, that's some place you were living in back there,” Joe said, turning on the seat to glance at Rochelle.
“Yes, I suppose it is,” she said. “Please call me Rochelle.”
“Okay, Rochelle. What exactly does your husband do?”
Rochelle glanced at Michael, not certain a discussion about Tobias was something she wanted to get into. Michael nodded his head, however, and she answered as best she could. “I was prevented from knowing about his business, but I suspect he was involved in the smuggling of drugs out of Columbia and the drug trade in Miami. I never knew a great deal of what goes on, but I suspect things aren't going well just now. I think my husband might be on the hot seat and it all has to do with a man recently arrested, whose name is Monroe Tatum.
Rochelle had cut out the article about Monroe Tatum from the newspaper and put it in her purse. Careful not to expose the gun she carried there, she pulled the clipping out and handed it to Michael.
“I thought you might be interested in this. I think it might be at the root of some of the problems Tobias is experiencing right now.”
He took the article, unfolded it and scanned the contents. “It sounds like the State Attorney is going after Chandler, probably by cutting a deal with Tatum. That means Chandler is under the gun to get Tatum out of jail by any means he can.”
“I heard him mention the name of a judge. He is feeling intimidated right now because of this Tatum person. The judge who was supposed to get the case is on vacation. I heard Tobias tell someone on the phone to get Judge Salvador back on his bench and have the attorneys do what they could to stall the trial. From the tone of his voice on the phone, the Columbia people were upset with Tobias. That was his reason for flying down there.”
“If the state attorney can get one of the organization's men to cop a plea by turning Chandler over to them, then he's in hot water. I imagine that is what he is afraid of happening. What I do not understand is how he could have avoided the same kind of situation in the past. Surely there have been other arrests of people in his organization,” Michael said.
“I've heard bits and pieces of information when Tobias has talked on the phone. I think the attorneys get them out on bail and then they disappear. I've heard Tobias on a couple of occasions on the phone tell someone to make so-and-so disappear.”
“Jesus!” Joe exclaimed. “Mike, did you realize all this when you decided to bust the little lady out?”
“I didn't go into it totally blind, Joe,” he said, glancing at Rochelle.
“Well, I for one am glad it's over and we got Rochelle out of there. I'm not going to ask how you got involved with someone like him, Rochelle.” Intended or not, it came out as a question.
“Thank you for not asking,” Rochelle replied and let the conversation drop.
Everyone was in a lighthearted spirit thus far, their success giving them an adrenaline high that simmered down by slow degrees until a normalcy prevailed. Everything occurring back at the estate took no longer than twenty minutes or less, but opinions and reactions to occurrences strung the tale out much longer than it actually was. It had been a successful venture for them and they could go back to their lives without an afterthought; at least, everyone except Rochelle and Michael. Tobias would be a dangerous opponent now for them both.
“Living in a fortress like that, and with the number of people on his payroll, your husband obviously has a lot of secrets to hide.
Mike, I wouldn't take him lightly. A man like him doesn't take easily to their wife being snatched from their bed,” Joe said, thinking about the gunshot wound Michael had sustained, and understanding fully why Michael paid them so much. Their lives had been at risk and only a generous sum would have compensated them in such a dangerous venture.
Michael looked slightly grave, his jaws clamped tightly shut.
He was thinking about that very bed Joe had mentioned. He was thinking about Rochelle sleeping in that bed with Tobias, Tobias touching her, Tobias making love to her. A raw wound seemed to coil up inside him like a poisonous snake ready to strike. He knew exactly what it was, jealousy. He was so damn jealous at the thought of another man touching her that it tore into his gut like mighty fangs.
The mood was much too serious, so Rochelle attempted to lighten things a bit. “I imagine there'll be some job openings for guards when Tobias comes back from Columbia.”
The two men in the front seat burst out laughing. “I have a feeling you're right,” Joe agreed. “Mike, I wouldn't have missed this for anything,” he ventured with a grin. “You certainly planned it all carefully. Frankly, I was afraid it wouldn't come off so well.”
“When that bullet whizzed by within an inch of my skull, I feared the same thing,” Michael said with dry humor, feeling Rochelle stiffen beside him.
“It came that close, huh?” Joe questioned, while his brows furrowed with concentration over the possible outcome. “Jesus, if you had been shot, the whole place might have become a battle ground. We might all have been killed.”
“I think we were all pretty lucky when it came to dodging bullets. I thought I'd nearly taken one or two before I took out that last guard,” Ramm told them, it being the first time he had opened his mouth since taking the wheel.
“Fellows, we can all give ourselves a pat on the back for a job well done,” Michael told them.
“It'll be dark soon. Why don't we stop some place to eat?” Joe suggested.
“Mike, if we're going to drive straight through, we're going to be mighty tired when we get there,” Ramm speculated.
“Maybe we should get a room and grab a few hours sleep before we go on. I could sure use it,” Joe said, yawning at the thought of a comfortable bed.
“I think we all could use a rest now that we're far enough away from Miami to breathe a bit easier. I have been thinking we should probably get a plane the rest of the way. We will have dinner and inquire where the nearest airport is, and then I will see about making flight arrangements—maybe charter a plane large enough to accommodate us all. Call Curly and let him know our plans.”
“Man, that would be fine with me,” Ramm suggested. “This traveling by car will get monotonous before we get home.”
They pulled off at the next exit ramp.
THE NEAREST AIRPORT was about forty miles ahead. Michael called to inquire about flight arrangements. Michael was put in touch with a local pilot who would be glad to transport them, but because the pilot had taken on an earlier reservation, there would be a two-night layover.
They rented rooms at a nearby motel.
For the sake of appearances, Michael rented Rochelle her own room adjoining his. Afterwards, it crossed his mind he opted for separate rooms for reasons other than appearance. No matter how hard he tried, he could not get it from his mind that Rochelle was with Tobias the past several weeks, sleeping in his bed, having him make love to her. Visualizing Tobias touching her in those intimate places, and making love to Rochelle, was a mental picture that ate at him with such fervor he couldn't let go of it. He was so damn jealous it was messing up his mind badly.
Jealously was a new emotion for him, and he knew of no easy way to control it. In addition to that, as if jealousy were not already enough venom in his blood, anger at Tobias Chandler came in the form of resentment, outrage, and hostility. Unable to inflict his wrath on Tobias, Rochelle became a handy target. He was neither ignorant nor a fool, and he knew she was not responsible for what Tobias did to her. It was not her fault. If she had had her way, she never would have gone back with Tobias. Nevertheless, the fact of the matter was, she had gone with him and had participated in sex with him.
Michael actually found himself shuddering when he thought of Tobias making love to Rochelle, and oddly, he wanted to shove her away from him, to heap on her the misery he was experiencing. As insane as such emotions made him, he was not sure how to go about getting this venom from his system. Rochelle did not deserve his attitude.
Yet, the jealousy lodged in his brain like a leech he was unable to shake off.