In the Shadow of Evil Book 2

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In the Shadow of Evil Book 2 Page 14

by Nancy C. Weeks


  “I’m telling you, Jefe, she’s in the church. I’m looking right at her,” whispered a man standing behind a pillar in the back of the church. “She came in with the priest. No, she’s alone now. No, Jefe, there’s been no sign of McNeil. I’m absolutely sure. She must have stayed with friends last night. The priest walked her over to the school. Yes, that’s where we picked her back up. She was only there for about fifteen minutes, and now they are meeting in the reception area. Absolutely, Jefe, we won’t lose her again. You can count on us. Everyone’s on it. We’ll know where she is at every moment.”

  The man hung up. He stuffed the cell phone into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief to dry the sweat off his forehead. Just talking to Mendoza made him sweat like a pig. Damn woman almost got all of them killed. Bitch! No way was he going to lose her again. And at the first opportunity, she’ll pay for causing him so much trouble with the boss.

  Twenty-Three

  Melodic piano music flowed down the stairwell into the basement of St. Luke’s, filling the impromptu command center with a moment of serenity. The seven men couldn’t help taking a moment from their tasks to listen to the soft haunting rhythm.

  “Is that Jennie?” Jared asked, facing the priest who seemed as comfortable amongst Jared’s men as at the altar.

  Father Anthony looked up from the floor plan laid out on the table. “She’s a very talented pianist.”

  Jared walked over to the doorway. His heart swelled with pride. The emotion from the music awoke something deep in him. And for one blessed moment, it eradicated Mendoza, the evil presence residing in his gut. “What piece is she playing? I don’t recognize it.”

  “It’s called Christofori’s Dream, by David Lanz. It was one of Louise Cunningham’s favorites.”

  “I never knew she could play the piano. That kind of skill takes years to perfect.” Jared turned back to the table and studied the floor plans for the building where they suspected Danny was being held.

  “She has a Bachelor of Music in piano performance from Towson University.”

  “Jennie’s degree is in primary education.”

  “You two really do need some time alone,” Anthony said, shaking his head. “While working on her undergraduate degree in education, she began her course work for a music degree. I attended her graduation a year ago.”

  “I’ve been too distant. While I was trying to keep her safe by removing myself from her life, she was turning herself into a walled-off one-woman army.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself, McNeil. You’re here now. Have any idea how you will keep her from tagging along to find Danny?”

  “She’s not going. This is police business. I’ll lock her up if I have to.”

  “Like hell you will,” Jennie said from the doorway. “You promised! Danny is my responsibility.”

  Jared leaned against the table. “Danny is in this because of Mendoza. Don’t confuse the lines.” He reached for her hand. “I never promised to take you out with us. That goes against every rule in the book. I said you could help us find him, and you did that.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Sweetheart, you’re in pain and you look like you are about to fall on your face. I’m surprised you made it down the stairs. Where’re your meds?”

  “Will everyone stop telling me how crappy I look? I’m fine.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, her legs collapsed under her.

  Jared eased her into the chair. “Take a couple deep breaths.”

  “I’m just a little dizzy.”

  One of the men offered Father Anthony a bottle of water; he passed it to Jennie. Pulling a chair up next to hers, he spoke softly. “You’re in no condition to help Danny. In fact, you’re a hindrance.”

  “I can’t sit back and do nothing.”

  “Trained law enforcement officers will search the building on Lombard Street.”

  “I can help. If he’s there, I’ll—”

  “No, you can’t.” Jared clamped his jaw so tight, a sharp pain shot through to his head.

  “If ever there was a time for you to take a step back, this is it,” Father Anthony interrupted. He stared piercingly at her and then looked at a small crucifix on the wall.

  “I knew this guy once. He was this cocky, special forces soldier in the first war in Iraq. He demanded more from himself than any man in his unit. One day, the team was out on a patrol and got caught in an ambush by the Republican Guard. Three soldiers were killed instantly, the rest captured.”

  Father Anthony reached for a chair against the wall and dropped into it. “Since this soldier felt responsible for the failed mission, he convinced his commander he could handle another patrol. The patrol caught up with the guard and all hell broke out. The soldiers were recovered, but the guy was wounded. He hid. Several days later, an eight-year-old girl from a village in the area found him. Word got back to the Republican Guard that an American soldier was being protected by this village.”

  He lowered his head, and his hands, shaking, until he clutched them together.

  “You don’t have finish, Father Anthony. It’s okay…”

  “They drove into the village at dusk and forced everyone into the square. The girl’s father was executed first. The soldier watched as the commander of the guard held a gun to the mother’s head and pulled the trigger. The little girl ran to her mother as she fell to the ground. They shot her in the back, and she fell on top of her mother.”

  “My God,” Jennie gasped.

  “By the time he climbed the hill behind the village, the guard had opened fire on everyone. That’s guilt, Jennie. That soldier… I was in no condition to be in charge of the retrieval mission. I was too tired to think straight, and innocent people died because of it. If you fight us and go out in your condition, someone will get hurt trying to keep you safe.” Father Anthony squeezed her shoulder. “Please, get some rest and let these people do their job.” He stood and left the room.

  Jennie stared at Father Anthony’s back, then covered her face with her hands. “I always knew there was something he kept closed up, something he never shared. I could see it in his eyes. But I never—”

  Jared gently pulled her into his arms and held her for several minutes. “I reserved a room in a nearby hotel. I have undercover agents protecting it around the clock. I’ll meet you there when we’re done. If I find Danny, I’ll get word to you immediately. I know I haven’t had the best history with you, but I know how to do my job.”

  “I know you do.”

  “Emma will come by after her shift to check on your throat. She’s worried about infection setting in. She may want to give you something to help you sleep. Please take it. When you wake up, I’ll be there with you.”

  “I’ll do whatever she suggests.”

  “Just until you get the rest you need and some color back into your face. I need you to be in top form,” Jared said. “I’ve noticed that special radar you have isn’t working.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Father Anthony said you didn’t detect any Mendoza vibes on the way to and from the school earlier. That special sense you have should’ve been screaming. His men are all over the streets between here and the school. You didn’t notice because you’re exhausted.”

  “Like I didn’t notice Scarvey last night until it was too late,” Jennie confirmed, closing her eyes and breathing deeply.

  “I need you rested, recuperated. We’ve no idea who belongs in the neighborhood and who doesn’t. Mendoza is moving his men around. By the time we get a fix on them, he changes their location. I don’t think Mendoza knows about your ability. We can use it to follow one of his men back to their rathole. If your theory is correct, Mendoza will show up there.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Just understand, you’ll not be going anywhere near him.”

  Jennie smiled, and this time it reached her eyes. “You—big, bad cop—me, teacher. But I’m not that scared sixteen-year-old anymore. I don’t need a big, bad
cop to take care of me.”

  “You don’t get it, Jennie. I want to be the one person who always has your back.” Touching the bandage on her neck, he whispered, “I’ll keep the monsters from hurting you.”

  Mendoza shut the lid of his briefcase and set it by the door. His driver carried his other luggage down to the waiting car. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone, and struck number one. “Have you carried out my orders?”

  “Bound and knotted tight like a Thanksgiving turkey.”

  “And your other guest?”

  It took only a second for his phone to buzz with a photo of the child sitting in the sedan's backseat, his shoulders slouched, his eyes glued to his shoes. A small smile formed at the corner of Mendoza’s mouth. “And my last order?”

  “Pieces of Raúl will scatter in every direction, along with anyone within fifty square yards.”

  “This better work, Ivan. Your life depends on it, amigo.”

  Twenty-Four

  Wednesday Evening

  Lombard Street, Baltimore

  * * *

  Jared’s heart pounded as he pressed his body up against the wall and signaled one of the task force agents to cover the stairway entrance to the fifth floor. The team had successfully entered the building, undetected by either the residents or the two Mendoza goons on the street below.

  The hairs on the back of his neck spiked. Something was wrong. Ivan was a cunning bastard, and this was too easy. Jared inched his way down the short hallway until he reached the last apartment. Pressing his ear against the door, he listened for any sound coming from inside. Noah positioned himself on the other side of the door. The point agent held the metal ram ready. Drawing his weapon, Jared re-checked everyone’s position and gave the signal to breach.

  Hotel, Downtown Baltimore

  Jennie dug through a bag of clothes someone threw together from her apartment and found her favorite black-and-gold Towson University T-shirt. She pulled it on with a pair of warm sweatpants and settled on the bed with the television remote. After ten minutes of surfing through the channels, she tossed the remote across the bed. As she lifted her hand to massage her shoulder, a blazing light pierced through her head. She slammed her eyes shut to block it out. No pain or dizziness was present, so seconds later, she peeked through a gap in her eyelids. Nothing. The blaring light was gone, and her vision seemed clear, lucid. The only symptom that remained was a relentless hum between her ears.

  Opening her eyes all the way, she stared in wonder at her body, as it drifted through an unknown apartment, absent of the usual odors or sounds; acid scents of burnt coffee, fried foods, the purr of a refrigerator. She moved down an unfamiliar hallway to the first bedroom. Pushing the door ajar, she peeked inside. Why didn’t she feel uneasy, frightened of the unknown…something?

  She took a step into the room and came to a stop. The bedroom was bare, except for a twin bed against the far wall. With the shade drawn, a little light streamed from around the window, casting a swirl of shadows in the corners of the wall above the bed. She reached out and fumbled for a light switch, flipped it up, but nothing happened.

  A low moan came from the bed that drove Jennie further into the room. A blanket-covered lump on the bed moved, and she stepped back.

  “Who’s there?”

  The moan grew louder, the desperate sound stabbing through the numbness, and a sense of dread consumed her. The face turned toward her, and she gasped.

  “Oh God, Danny!”

  Danny’s eyes met hers. He lay prone on the bed with his hands bound over his head and attached to a hook in the wall. Duct tape covered his mouth.

  He could see her as he struggled with his bindings. Huge tears streaked down his face, over multicolored bruises that covered the surface of his face and neck, his fear ripping her heart in two.

  An uncontrolled shiver raced through her body, while the thrashing of her heartbeat replaced the hum in her ears. She reached out for Danny, but found she was immobile, frozen in place; something held her back.

  “Let me go to him. He needs me,” she cried, fighting the invisible force.

  “Someone else needs you more.” A familiar voice penetrated her consciousness.

  “Who could need me more than Danny?”

  An instant later, she was no longer with Danny, but inside another bedroom. Allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark interior, she scanned the unfamiliar room. Unlike the other room, it was completely bare of furnishings. As she advanced away from the doorway, a large shadow formed in the center of the room. While moments earlier the unknown force froze her in place, now it shoved her toward the shadow.

  “Stop, I don’t want to see.”

  But the familiar voice uttered, “You must.”

  A man was lying spread-eagle, his arms and legs chained like an animal to four posts hammered into the hardwood plank floor. Blood seeped from huge wounds in his right shoulder and left thigh. The metallic odor assaulted her and caused her to gag. She could taste the fear in the room. “Dear God.”

  The man turned his face in her direction and tried to speak. She couldn’t make out what he said, so she moved further into the room. When their eyes met, the recognition hit home, and every muscle in her body clenched.

  “I know you. I’ve seen you before.” The drumming in her ears increased. “You were there! You shot Quinton!”

  “Ivan… I couldn’t stop him.” His voice was laced with pain.

  “I don’t believe you. You let it happen. He was only a little boy!” She wanted to kill him. The strength of the emotion frightened her to the core.

  “Wait, please, I beg you…you must warn them.”

  She paused as the familiar words echoed in her head.

  “My chest, my chest!”

  His fear slammed into her.

  Her heart stopped when she got a good look at his chest. Wires, too many to count, connected to squares of plaster attached to a Kevlar vest. Someone had affixed a thin wire to a round key pull on the vest. The other end of the wire extended across the floor and looped around a pulley drilled into the door frame and then fastened to the doorknob. Jennie turned back to the man. “What do I do? I don’t know what to do.”

  “You must warn them,” he replied.

  “Warn who?”

  Jared! She had to warn Jared. Twisting, she rushed toward the door, but the force of the blast lifted her off the floor and sent her airborne.

  Jennie jumped off the bed with an earsplitting scream. She slammed one hand over her mouth, as she grabbed onto the corner of the dresser with the other. She removed her hand from her mouth to gasp for air.

  Several moments passed before she registered the banging coming from the connecting hotel room, and the unfamiliar male voice threatening that if she didn’t open the door, he would kick it in. With unsteady steps, she stumbled over to the connecting door.

  “Who’s there?” Her voice trembled.

  “Thomas McNeil, Jared’s father. Open the damn door, Miss McKenzie. Now!”

  It took a couple of tries before Jennie could make her fingers work the lock and twist it open. Thomas McNeil didn’t give her a chance to get out of the way before he stormed into the room, his weapon drawn. Behind him, a woman who had to be Jared’s mother followed.

  Wrapping an arm around Jennie to keep her from stumbling, she scolded her husband. “Thomas, you almost knocked the poor girl to the floor. Where are your manners?”

  “She screamed. You heard her, too.” Thomas searched the small bathroom, then the closet.

  “It was a dream.” Jennie stared at Jared’s parents. Her head pounded and her neck hurt like hell. She took a couple of steadying breaths. Her T-shirt clung to her body, damp from sweat, and her hair covered her face in a tangled mess, a great first impression.

  Unable to stand any longer, she dropped onto the edge of the bed, dragging her hands through her hair to get it off her face.

  Holding her wrist in her hands, Mrs. McNeil took her pulse. �
�Your heart is racing, Jennie. What’s wrong?”

  “Bad dream, terrible dream,” Jennie replied. The force of the images shot back into her. Sinking from the foot of the bed onto the floor, Jennie cried out, “Oh God, I need a cell phone. I have to warn them. It’s a trap and they’re walking right into it.”

  “Who is walking into a trap?” Thomas roared, moving so he stood right over her.

  “Jared, the team, there’s a bomb. I saw it. I have to call Jared.”

  Thomas pulled out his cell phone and pressed a number. A moment passed before he shut the phone and returned it to his pocket. “It’s going right to voice mail.”

  Closing her eyes, she concentrated on Jared’s essence, while repeating over again, “It’s a trap, bomb.”

  Lombard Street

  The agent charged down the short hallway to check the small bath. Jared moved past him and paused at the first bedroom. He scanned the room from the hallway before opening the door all the way. The room was empty, except for a bare twin bed against the wall. The mattress was stripped bare and the hardwood flooring spotless. A lemony scent of cleaner lingered in the air.

  He met up with Noah, who was approaching the second bedroom. The door to that room was also slightly open. Noah eased into the room. It was as clean as the previous one. The men approached the closed door of the third bedroom, on the other side of the hallway. Jared turned the doorknob; the door was locked. Like before, he positioned himself on one side of the door with Noah on the other side. The third agent stood in front of the door waiting for Jared to give the signal.

  Jared gulped in a deep breath and let it out slowly. The pounding in his head persisted. Something was wrong. Noah’s expression mirrored his. He raised his fist to stop the agent from kicking in the door.

 

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