When the Tiger Kills: A Cimarron/Melbourne Thriller: Book One

by Vanessa Prelatte

  He gave up trying to pry the chain loose and tried a new tactic, flinging himself violently backward against the wall. Lee's head spun as it smashed into the hard surface, but she held on doggedly. Again and again Michael repeated the maneuver, slamming her against the wall. She maintained as long as she could, but after he turned sideways and her shoulder hit the wall with brutal impact, her arm and hand went numb. Losing her grip on the chain, she fell to the floor.

  Michael unwound the chain from his neck and dove toward her as she gathered herself up to a sitting position. She had just enough time before he landed on her to swing one of her legs up and land a solid kick in his groin. As he doubled over with pain, Lee gathered the chain up, pushed herself to her feet, and made a break for the stairs. Praying that he had left the door at the top unlocked, she raced up the steps. The sound of footsteps pounding behind her alerted her to the fact that Michael was up and moving as well. Reaching the top, she grabbed the handle of the door and nearly wept with relief as it turned easily. Shoving the door open, she dove through the doorway. Quick as a cat, she rolled over and lashed out with her legs, felt the entire house shudder as she kicked the door shut. Then she was on her feet again, desperately reaching for and turning the key in the deadbolt.

  The pounding began from the other side of the door, and she felt the house shudder again from the force of the blows. For a moment she was frozen with fear, afraid that the door might give way and he would be upon her before she had time to gather her wits and still the frantic beating of her heart. But the door was solid, and the stout lock was holding. She forced herself to move away and look about her. She was in the kitchen area of the house. Running to the counter, she began pulling out drawers until she found what she was looking for. A fierce smile crossed her face as she grasped the long-handled butcher's knife in her hand. She had a weapon. Now she needed to find her way out of here. Racing to the front door, she unlocked it and looked outside. A sidewalk in front of her led to a driveway, with a large attached garage on the left. All around, however, nothing but snow-covered trees met her gaze. The icy wind trailing across her bare arms reminded her that she needed two things: warmer clothing and transportation of some sort. Moving into the adjacent living room, she spied her long black coat folded over the back of an easy chair, her boots placed neatly beside it. Grabbing the coat, she thrust an arm through one sleeve; then, transferring her knife from one hand to the other and letting the chain drop to the floor, she shrugged her other arm in. With the chain still shackled around her right ankle, there was no hope she could pull a boot over it, so she decided to abandon the boots.

  One part of her mind had registered that the pounding on the cellar door had stopped. For a moment she entertained the hope that he had just given up trying to force the door. Back in the kitchen, however, her heart sank. The pounding started once again, and to her horror, she watched as the wood around the deadbolt splintered, and the edge of a hatchet appeared. Apparently, Michael had not had any trouble accessing his tool chest.

  She thought about waiting on the side of the door and thrusting the butcher's knife into him when he broke through, but gave up that plan when she spotted the car keys hanging neatly from a peg on the wall next to the sink. Grabbing them, she sprinted to the door on the far side of the kitchen. Opening the door, she found herself, as she had hoped, in the garage. Two vehicles stood there: a pick-up truck, and a much larger type of truck that she couldn't identify. When she pressed the “unlock” button on the key, she heard the locks on the pick-up truck disengage. Pulling the door open, she scrambled up into the driver's seat, yanking the chain up after her and depositing it on the floor. Dropping the knife on the seat beside her, she jammed the keys into the ignition with one hand and was in the process of tugging the door closed with the other when she saw a blur of movement out of the corner of her eye and felt a violent tug on her hair. Screaming with fear and rage, she groped wildly for the butcher's knife...

  *****

  As Ty set the helicopter down in a field only yards away from the house, just seconds after the one carrying Rafe and his team had landed practically in the front yard, Dawn trained her binoculars on the house. Rafe and Sokoto moved into position at the front door, while Prentiss and Noritaki raced around to the back. She saw Rafe pound on the door, and when no one answered, step back and kick the door in. When the minutes ticked by and she saw no one exiting the house, she could stand it no longer.

  “I'm moving closer.” She jumped to the ground and started running toward the house, Ty just behind her. At the perimeter, she watched as the door on the attached garage swung open. She caught sight of a large beige pick-up truck and saw that Rafe and his team were gathered in there, looking at something on the ground beside the driver's side door. She ran up the driveway, but as soon as he saw her, Rafe came out of the garage and caught her arm.

  “What's going on? What have you found?” she asked impatiently.

  He didn't bother to tell her that she shouldn't be there; they both knew it, just as they knew that it would take a court order plus a small army to get her out of there. So he didn't waste his breath arguing with her or attempting to get her to leave. “There's nobody here, Dawn. We found evidence that someone was being held in the basement, but there's no one there now. It looks like he had two vehicles in the garage, and one of them is missing.” He paused for a minute, then said, “There's a small puddle of blood on the floor of the garage.”

  “How fresh? Is it congealed or hardened yet?”

  “Pretty fresh. It's just beginning to congeal. I think we just missed them, Dawn. Sokoto is in touch with the DMV, having them run a search on any vehicles rented to Valhalla-Buonarroti Industries. With any luck, he hasn't had time to get too far away. We'll find them, Dawn.”

  Sokoto joined them just then. “Got it! It's a reefer truck, a ten footer, white.” He rattled off the license plate number.

  “Okay. Here's what we're going to do. Prentiss and Noritaki will stay here, secure the scene, wait for the patrol units and the crime scene techs. The rest of us will look for the truck. There are roads going south and east out of here, but nothing to the north or west. Sokoto, you and I will go in the first chopper, start looking along the southern route.” He turned to look at Ty. “You can take the area to the east. If you spot the truck, contact us immediately. Let us take him down if at all possible. It'll be cleaner that way.”

  Ty stopped for a moment to talk to the members of his search and rescue team who were aboard the other helicopter, and two of the paramedics on the team quickly descended and transferred to the other chopper.

  Just before Ty got the bird into the air, Dawn said to him, “You know what a reefer truck is, or do I have to look it up on my cell?”

  Ty hesitated just for a minute before he replied, “A reefer truck is a refrigerated truck, Dawn.”

  *****

  Michael took one hand off the wheel to check the bandage on his shoulder. The bleeding seemed to have stopped at least. He still couldn't believe that she had tried to kill him. When he'd caught up with her just as she got into the driver's seat of his pick-up truck, she'd whirled and struck at him with a butcher's knife. Fortunately, he'd still been holding the lathing hammer he'd used to chop through the door to the basement and free himself. He'd gotten it up in time to deflect the blow, which had been aimed for his heart, so the butcher's knife had turned aside and caught him in the shoulder instead. He'd grabbed her with his good arm and pulled her out of the truck, backhanding her with the hammer side of the tool. If he'd hit her dead-on or lashed out with the hatchet side of the tool, the blow would probably have killed her, but she twisted aside at the last minute, and the hammer had caught her on the side of the head instead, stunning her momentarily. He hadn't taken any chances then. Grabbing some duct tape from a nearby shelf in the garage, he'd trussed her up, binding first her hands, then her feet. When she'd recovered enough from the blow to begin struggling against the bonds and started screaming at
him to let her go, he'd put a piece of duct tape over her mouth as well. Then he'd picked her up and tossed her into the back of the reefer truck before seeing to the wound on his shoulder. He was relieved to see that it was not as deep as he had feared, so he'd cleaned it thoroughly and put some antiseptic on it before placing a sterile gauze pad over it, winding some bandages around his chest and shoulder, and securing everything with some white medical tape. Then he'd returned to the garage and headed out.

  Once he'd seen the newscast, he'd known that he couldn't stick with his original plan and take her back home with him, as he had with the others. Since the boyfriend had come out of his coma and told the police about the attack, they now knew that they had an abduction on their hands, not just a lost girl. And the boyfriend had seen him, could identify him. He'd already determined that he was going to have to finish up early this time, leave the girl behind, and put as much distance between himself and the state of Colorado as he possibly could.

  Earlier, when he had gone down to the basement and she'd told him she was sick, it had seemed like the perfect opportunity. He'd planned to dissolve enough of the sleeping medication in a glass of water to render her unconscious. Afterward, he would place her in the back of the reefer truck. In the freezing cold of its interior, hypothermia would quickly set in, causing her to fall gradually into a stupor. She would slip away as easily and as painlessly as possible. Then he would take her to the mountains and set the remnant of the goddess free from the girl's mortal body.

  Well, the first part of his plan may have gone awry, but he could still go through with the second part. Even though he was furiously angry with her, he would still leave her in the icy embrace of the mountains. He owed the part of her that housed the goddess that.

  *****

  “There it is!” Brody shouted.

  Dawn and Ty had seen it too, and Ty immediately contacted the other chopper, letting them know the location where they had spotted the reefer truck. Just then, the driver must have realized that the helicopter was in pursuit, because he began to accelerate, barreling along the narrow country road at a dangerous rate of speed. Ty didn't have to be a mind reader to know what his wife was thinking: if the truck continued to gain speed, it would crash, and there was no guarantee that either of the occupants would survive.

  With that in mind, Ty took the helicopter down until it hovered right above the truck. Just as he expected, the driver reacted by slowing down, looking out the windows and checking his mirrors, trying to determine just how close the chopper was. As soon as the truck began to decelerate, Ty took the helicopter up again, then dropped down so that he was hovering just in front of the truck, matching its pace and speed. Once again, the driver, thinking that he might crash and disoriented by the sight of the helicopter whirling in front of him, decreased his speed. Ty took the chopper up again. Choosing his spot carefully, this time he set the helicopter down on the roadway, at a little distance in front of the truck. With no way around the obstacle, and obviously fearful of crashing, the driver slammed on the brakes and brought his vehicle to a complete stop.

  Dawn wasn't taking any chances by waiting for the other helicopter to arrive. Descending from the chopper and drawing her weapon, she shouted, “Police! Don't move a muscle! Keep your hands on the steering wheel where I can see them!”

  Ignoring her commands, the driver ducked down and rolled across the front seat. Flinging open the passenger-side door, he dropped down, hit the ground, and began running up the hill on the opposite side of the roadway.

  Dawn reached the truck. Tearing open the door on the driver's side, she swept the interior with her weapon. Finding it empty, she raced along the side until she was almost to the rear of the truck. Standing with her back against the side of the truck, she paused a minute, then darted a quick glance around the truck. Nothing. She couldn't expose herself for more than a second, however - for all she knew, her adversary could be armed. The whole time, she was aware of the fact that Ty had exited the helicopter shortly after she had and was shadowing her. She was also aware that Brody had opened the side door of the helicopter, but she hadn't seen him descend.

  When Ty reached her, he said, “Give Brody a minute. He'll have the situation contained shortly.”

  Just then, she saw something fly out of the helicopter in the direction that the suspect had taken. A second later, she heard a scream and a thud. Then she heard Brody's voice: “Go ahead. The suspect is down. I'll make sure he stays that way.”

  Without giving further thought to the method Brody had used to bring down the suspect, Dawn began moving around to the back of the truck, just as the second helicopter arrived on the scene and landed. Rafe was bounding out of the chopper almost before it touched the ground, and he was by her side in a matter of seconds. “Let me do it, Dawn,” Rafe said urgently.

  It took all of her professionalism, but Dawn nodded and stepped aside. Pulling open the rear door, Rafe leaped up into the back of the truck. Immediately, he shouted, “She's here! Get the paramedics!” Bending down, he scooped up the figure that was lying on the floor of the truck and carried her to the door, handing her down to the paramedics, who had wasted no time in scrambling out of the helicopter. Placing her on a gurney, they swiftly took her vitals and began administering treatment.

  Dawn stood by, her eyes fastened on Lee's face as the paramedics worked on the unconscious girl. She was only dimly aware that Ty stood beside her, a hand on her arm for both comfort and support. She didn't even spare a thought for what was going on regarding the suspect; she had seen Ralph Sokoto head up the hill in the direction where she had last seen the man she assumed was Vaughn Makella, and she was content to let Sokoto handle that situation. Sirens sounded in the distance, and she soon registered the fact that additional police units had arrived on the scene, but still she did not look away. Presently, however, she became aware that someone was standing on her other side, and she recognized Captain Penrose's voice when he said,

  “Marina Cimarron. After all these years. Who'd have thought it? Even Nick was pessimistic in the end, and he held out hope longer than anyone else did. Except for you, D.C. I have to admit; I thought you were just being stubborn and unrealistic when you refused to believe that she was gone. Wouldn't even have her declared dead when the time came. I've never been happier to admit that I was wrong.”

  “She's coming around!”

  At the paramedic's words, Dawn moved forward and grasped the arm rail of the gurney.

  “Marina,” she whispered. Then in a louder voice, she said, “Lee.”

  The girl had been facing away from her, but at the sound of Dawn's voice, she turned her head – and stared at Dawn out of their father's blue eyes.

  Maybe it was the fact that she was the only other woman present, or maybe on some level, blood recognized blood, for Lee immediately reached out and grasped Dawn's hand, holding it tightly.

  “Who are you?” she asked in a shaky voice.

  Eyes filling with tears that she refused to allow to fall, Dawn squeezed her sister's hand and said simply, “Dawn – I'm Dawn.” She paused for a moment and then added, “I'm a detective with the Mountpelier Police.” Indicating Rafe, she said, “This is my partner, Sergeant Rafe Melbourne. Whenever you feel able, he'd like to talk to you, take your statement. But right now, there are a couple of people we need to call, let them know you're safe. They're waiting for you at the hospital: Will Preisinger and Maya Shilltoe.” She didn't mention Vivian Zarafin. If Lee asked for her, she'd let Rafe handle it, but she wasn't about to bring the woman's name up.

  At the mention of Will's name, Lee's face lit up with a combination of confusion and hope.

  “Will's alive? But he went over the cliff! I saw him fall; I thought sure he was dead.”

  Rafe took over smoothly. “Will managed to grab and hold onto a rock shelf long enough to break his fall. He was injured - pretty badly, in fact; but he's on the road to recovery now. How would you like me to call him so that you can talk to hi
m yourself?”

  “Yes, yes – call him right away! I need to talk to him, hear his voice for myself!”

  Rafe put a call through to Will, who had been moved out of intensive care to a regular room. Smiling broadly, Rafe said, “Will? I've got some news for you – good news. We've found Lee. She's alive and well, and she's right here, waiting to talk to you.” Handing the phone to Lee, Rafe turned aside and drew Dawn, Ty, and Captain Penrose a little to one side.

  Ralph Sokoto, meanwhile, had headed up the hill toward Brody and the man he assumed was Vaughn Makella. From the helicopter, he'd watched helplessly as Makella exited the reefer truck and sped up the hill, inwardly cursing at the thought that the suspect might actually get away before the copter landed and they could apprehend him. Then he had seen a giant figure move to the side door of the chopper already on the ground, whirling a bolo over his head and flinging it expertly toward the fleeing suspect. The bolo had caught the fleeing man neatly around the knees, halting him in his tracks. He had flailed his arms around wildly, trying to stay on his feet, but to no avail. As the suspect pitched forward, Sokoto saw the giant grab a pair of crutches, and more quickly than he would have believed possible for a man so impaired, move up toward the man on the hill, who had managed to sit up and was struggling to unwind the bolo from around his legs. He didn't succeed, however, for just then the giant had reached the suspect, and Sokoto saw him appear to stumble on his crutches and fall, landing directly on top of the man on the ground.