Dead End

by Lisa Phillips

  So things were complicated enough that they didn’t need to jump into anything. But did he let her explain that? No.

  It was a wonder she didn’t want to kick dirt in his face, or whatever women did these days when men angered them. But if he was alive, if she could keep him from being killed, Nina likely was going to do the complete opposite. If she saw him again, she’d likely kiss that dumb confused look off his face and then explain a few things.

  Romance wasn’t even in a spy’s vocabulary. Then she’d been searching for Mr. Thomas. Excuse her for not seeing what had been right in front of her face until it was too late.

  She really hoped it wasn’t too late.

  Nina loosened her death grip on the phone and dialed the number instead. First, before she could find Wyatt, there was a serious list of things she needed to say to Steve Adams. That sadistic killer was going to get a piece of her mind.

  A muffled sound came through the phone.

  Nina was ready to lay into the man, no matter that it might make him angrier. “Where is he? I want to know.” She paced. “And you better not have harmed one tiny hair on his head or you’ll have me to answer to.” She didn’t care that she sounded ridiculous. Not when Wyatt’s life was at stake.

  “N-Nina?” His voice was raspy and quiet. She could barely hear him. It sounded like he was in a closed-in space, confined somewhere with no way out.

  “Wyatt? Where are you? Are you okay?” She sucked in a breath, trying to tamp down the cold fear that had settled in her stomach. She had to let him talk. With Wyatt’s phone, she brought up the little menu that let her turn on the camera light for a flashlight without needing to unlock the phone. While he collected himself, she shone it through the window at Parker.

  Please let this get his attention.

  “I think. I don’t know where I am.” He slurred the words, sounding disoriented. Steve Adams must have given him something to force his compliance, or he’d injured Wyatt.

  Parker winced and glared at her. Nina pointed to the phone and mouthed, Wyatt. “Are you hurt?”

  “No.”

  Parker raced out the front door in time to hear her say, “Any idea where you are?”

  Wyatt’s partner got on his phone again, yelling about traces and GPS. Nina stepped away and pressed her finger over her other ear so she could focus on him. The man she loved. Maybe since she’d first met him, she didn’t know. It was possible, since she’d never felt like this about anyone before.

  “I’m in a box.” He shifted around, and the pitch of his voice rose. “Nina. I think I’m in a coffin.”

  Parker started to yell louder. He had to be able to hear the conversation now.

  “There’s a tank in here. Like an oxygen tank.”

  Nina’s heart plummeted.

  “One second.” After Nina had counted from five he was back. “It’s a timer.”

  Nina spun. Her eyes locked with Parker’s, and—she was sure—the same dread on his face reflected on hers.

  “Nina, I’m running out of air.” A beep signaled something on his end. There was a rustle and he said, “Low battery.” He paused for a split second. “Bye...goodbye, Nina.”

  “Wyatt!”

  It was too late. The phone cut off.

  Nina fumbled with the phone, trying to redial. “Wyatt!” She had to speak to him. “Wyatt!” What else was she supposed to do? “Wyatt!” He was alone...in a box...running out of air.

  Parker grabbed the phone.

  “We traced the call and got a location. The team is moving now. Get a hold of yourself. If I have to stand here and make sure you don’t pass out, that operation is going to take longer. And that’s time Wyatt does not have.”

  “You were listening.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her along. She glanced back to see Jonah sprinting after them. Nina needed to suck it up and get it together, otherwise she was going to fall apart completely. Parker drove them in his SUV to the place they’d traced the phone call’s origin to.

  Nina sat in the back. It wasn’t like Steve Adams to be so sloppy he would lead them right to where Wyatt was being held.

  Jonah hung up his phone. “Paxton’s team was closest. They’re headed inside already.”

  Parker nodded, his fingers tight on the steering wheel.

  Seemed like they thought this was good, but something in Nina just wouldn’t settle. And it was more than simple concern for Wyatt’s life.

  Parker raced through the streets until they pulled up outside a two-story office building for lease. “He’s probably inside there somewhere.”

  Jonah nodded. “Basement or some kind of closet. A boiler room, that kind of thing.”

  Both men cracked their doors and climbed out.

  Nina reached for the handle when her phone beeped. She looked at the screen. Baltimore Public Library. She opened the message, eager to hear something from Wyatt. He had to be okay enough to send a message, and to have decided it was worth the battery usage.

  Boom.

  Nina blinked at the screen. She glanced up. Parker and Jonah, guns drawn, jogged toward the building. Why would Wyatt... Nina opened the door, stood on the step and yelled over the door, “Park—”

  The building exploded.

  A wave of sound and burning-hot air rushed toward her. Nina was flung backward onto the road, where she landed on the concrete and rolled.

  The phone screen flashed, the only sound in her ears the rush of air as though miles away. Nina lifted the phone with her dirty, scratched-up hand.

  Drive.

  Nina wanted to throw up. Drive? She found the keypad, dialed 911 and put the phone to her ear. Nothing. She checked it. Dialed again, coughing against the smoke and ash. It wasn’t working. What was wrong with her phone?

  Dread settled over her.

  Steve Adams.

  Nina rolled to try and see Parker or Jonah. With the smoke and flames she couldn’t make out much. She could hear sirens in the distance, though probably closer than she could hear. Parker and Jonah were probably deaf, given how close they had been. God, please let them be okay. They hadn’t been right up close to the building, but feet away. Please, God.

  The phone vibrated this time. How was Steve Adams controlling her phone? And how was he messaging her from a phone that Wyatt had? She dismissed immediately the idea that Wyatt was involved. It was far more likely that Steve Adams had the technology. That he’d cloned that phone.

  Get in the car and drive.

  Nina rounded the car. Her body hurt, but it was nothing compared to the men who had been inside that building. Were they okay?

  Nina turned the SUV on. Did Steve Adams know Parker had left the keys in the ignition?

  Parker got up, mouthed something she couldn’t hear. Red and blue flashing lights rounded the corner. Nina checked the backup camera and hit the gas.

  When she’d turned the corner the phone vibrated in her lap. At the next stoplight she looked down and checked it. The maps app was open on her phone as though she had searched for a location herself. Steve Adams had hacked her phone. He knew exactly where she was, and he was directing her to the center of town.

  When she arrived at the destination, Nina pulled to a stop, not willing to put the car in Park and allow the vehicle to unlock the doors. She didn’t want anyone getting in.

  The car went dark. The engine shut off. All the lights. Everything, as though someone had flicked a switch and turned the whole thing off. Nina lifted her foot off the brake. She pressed the gas. Tried to turn the key. What was happen—

  Her door opened and all she saw was an arm. And then sparks.

  Everything went black.

  SEVENTEEN

  Nina regained consciousness in a room. She shifted on a bed and took the place in. Mote
l, if she had to guess. Her head was a fog, her body bruised like she’d been hauled and dragged with no care for whether she was being injured.

  She rolled and tried to sit up, but found her hands were caught. Handcuffed. To the metal rail of the headboard.

  Her head whipped around. Was he here? Had Steve Adams brought her here for who-knew-what horrible purpose she didn’t even want to think about?

  She sucked in a breath and yelled, “Wyatt!”

  Even if he wasn’t here, maybe she’d draw attention from a neighbor and someone would come help her. There was no reply. An exterior door to her right was locked. No one could get in. If she could get free of the handcuffs she’d be out the door in less than four seconds. The other end of the room was a door, likely the bathroom. Was Wyatt in there?

  Nina’s best friend had been found after a particularly nasty operation facedown in a bathtub, unconscious. That wasn’t something Nina wanted to relive. Especially not if this was going to wind up like some crime show on TV where there was nothing left but mess and evidence.

  God, I don’t want to die. We were so close. It’s slipping out of my fingers, and I’ll lose him completely if I die. If Wyatt is gone. Her breath hitched. Don’t let him be gone, Lord. I can’t handle another death because I didn’t find Mr. Thomas fast enough. If he’s dead I might as well give up now and die, too.

  What was the point in living if the one man in years that Nina had come to care for, the one man she’d thought she might actually love, was gone? Aside from a job she’d accepted just for the sake of something to do, and a best friend who was now living her own life, Nina had basically nothing.

  Nothing but a lifelong obsession with finding the man who had destroyed her family. And now she was at the end of the journey facing the fact that he was about to destroy her, too. That years of searching, hoping and praying she might be able to do this were all wasted effort, pointless frustration that now might turn out to have been useless.

  The bathroom door opened, and he emerged. Same clothes he’d been wearing before, minus the jacket. He’d rolled his sleeves up, and his hair was perfect as usual. His shoes were even shined.

  “Nina.” Her name was a breath on his lips.

  She clenched her stomach, trying not to freak out. “I know you’re Steve Adams. I know everything about you, everything you’ve done.”

  He stepped closer, unfazed by her words, grasped the chair at the desk and flipped it around. He sat, crossed his legs and clasped his hands together. “You will address me as Mr. Thomas.”

  The distance between them didn’t make Nina feel much better. Not since she was trapped with nowhere to go and no way out. God help me.

  “These past few days have been...unpleasant. But I feel that we can put that behind us and move on, don’t you?”

  Nina was silent as she tried to figure out what on earth he was talking about. Move on to what? And unpleasant? He’d purposely led them to his real identity and now he didn’t want to acknowledge that’s who he really was.

  When he said nothing else, Nina said, “What do you want from me?”

  “My patience has been tested, Nina, but no more. This is your last and final chance to cease these ridiculous attempts to best me and finally surrender. Admit that you cannot have the victory.”

  He looked so...normal. It was as though he was commenting on a day of uneventful weather. “Now is the time for you to finally be free, Little Mouse. Your life has come to a close, and you will forever be freed from this world. I had thought you would be grateful for the freedom I’ve given you, but it seems you are not satisfied. Therefore, despite the fact that I have given you everything you should have wanted, my Little Mouse must be silenced. Forever.”

  “You killed my mother, and you think you did me a favor?” Nina screamed. “It wasn’t freedom. You condemned me to a lifetime of grief. You gave me nothing! You only took from me!”

  His mask slipped a tiny bit, and she saw a flash of anger in his eyes. “You will be free.”

  “I will not. You destroyed my life.”

  He launched out of the chair. “I made you! You were nothing until I came along.” His voice was a roar in the otherwise quiet room.

  Why hadn’t someone heard her yell? Why wasn’t someone helping her? “Where is Wyatt? What did you do to him?” Nina shifted on the bed, trying to get away from him, but her back hit the headboard. “Is he dead? Did you kill him, too?”

  “This is your last chance, Nina. You will be free as this Wyatt is.”

  Wyatt was dead? “You may as well kill me. I have nothing left.”

  “What about your delightful friend, Sienna? It would be such a shame if she met a sudden demise. Especially when she is with child.”

  Nina writhed against the bite of the handcuffs. “You don’t touch her! I’ll kill you!”

  He leaned forward. A couple more inches and she would be able to make contact. “I find that unlikely.”

  “I will. You know I will.”

  “Do I? None of the others put up the fight you have, getting their friends to shoot me. Some of them even thanked me for making their lives better...at least up until that end. But I gave their daughters what they needed.” He looked aside. “The freedom to do what they wanted to do instead of mother controlling every second of her life. Ballet. Violin. Painting. Until her feet were raw and her hands bled.”

  He looked at Nina then. “I set her free.”

  “And now it’s my turn?”

  He nodded. “Now you will cease this bother and be free. Forever.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, and you no longer consume my life. Because I’ve given my heart, all of it, to Wyatt. There’s no more room for hatred for you. That’s all there ever was. And now you’re nothing. Not anymore.”

  Steve Adams launched himself at her. Nina kicked out before he could hit her and caught his cheek with the heel of her boot. He cried out, reached behind him and pulled out something a little bigger than a handgun.

  He touched it to her neck and she quit moving.

  * * *

  Nina blinked again and woke. This time inside a wholly different kind of room. It smelled like earth after rain, and already her clothes had begun to stick to her body because the temperature was so warm. She shifted and heard the clink of handcuffs. So she was still wearing them.

  Her hip felt like one giant bruise, and she figured Steve Adams had thrown her in here. Wherever “here” was. She couldn’t see much, since the only light was a yellow street lamp peeking through a couple of high vents.

  On a long exhale, Nina sat up and tried to shake off the feel his words had left with her. Even if she died in here, it couldn’t be worse than facing down him and his sick desire to kill her. Like he was doing her a favor and not just still tying up loose ends. Trying to get away with murder.

  Nina looked around. This was his end?

  It looked like a shipping container, but there was nowhere in their Oregon town where there would be one. How far from home was she now?

  Nina kept turning, shuffling around without getting up. One leg was numb from the pain in her hip, and she didn’t think she had the strength to stand just yet.

  Behind her, she saw a long box and gasped. It looked like...a coffin. Or at least a box similar to ones that would transport a body. In the center of the container, it was the only thing in there with her.

  Wyatt?

  It was circled with some kind of thick tape, and she could see wood between the strips. She scanned the floor with her gaze and felt around with her fingers until she snagged something sharp. It looked like a shard of glass. She started at the end closest to her, under the lip, and began to saw at the tape.

  “Wyatt?” She called his name, and the sound echoed through the metal container. “Wyatt, are you in there?” She kept sawing, cu
tting through the tape even though the glass sliced at her fingers. What if she got it open and he was already dead? Was she prepared to face that outcome?

  Nina didn’t know if she could handle it. What she did know was that she’d spoken to him, and he’d been running out of air. If she was the difference between him living and dying then it didn’t matter that her fingers were getting slick with blood. That the glass was slipping, that she was messing this up.

  She’d been messing it up from the beginning because she’d been too scared to realize how she felt about him. She’d hidden behind the professionalism that had defined her career, and missed all the signs that he cared for her. And that she cared for him.

  What was that about? Nina of all people knew how short life was, how easily it could turn and leave a person reeling like being tossed around in a storm. Wyatt had steadied her. Faith had given her that strong foundation, the rock that could not be moved, but Wyatt had held her hand through it. He had been a gift of companionship and peace from God, one that she didn’t deserve.

  And she’d taken him for granted.

  Hot tears tracked down her face. She brushed them away with the back of her hand, leaving grit and probably blood smears instead. Who cared? He was probably dead anyway.

  Nina sank back on her heels and sobbed.

  A rustle from within the box...the coffin.

  Nina moaned aloud and fell backward with nothing to break her fall. Whoever was inside shuffled. The top burst open from the corner she’d sawed. His fist emerged, disappeared and then came out again. Over and over he punched away the wood until it splintered.

  He coughed. Nina cried louder as he sat up.

  He looked at her, breathing heavy but looking relieved. And very much alive.

  “Wyatt.”

  * * *

  Wyatt took a breath of musty air and tried to relax his heart rate. Adrenaline rushed through him; pricking beads of sweat gathered on his forehead. He glanced at Nina and soaked up the sight of her. She was beautiful even with mussed hair, wide-eyed and looking like she was so happy to see him.