On a small map, Jake traced the limo’s movements with his finger, while their pilot did the same in the air. Wherever they were going, it wasn’t toward TelTech. Each turn was taking them farther and farther away. They’d dug deep into Harding’s holdings and turned up a warehouse owned by a subsidiary of TelTech, but they weren’t heading toward that or Harding’s house. It wasn’t unexpected. If Phagan had set up some kind of a meet with Harding and Phoebe, he’d most likely pick a public place, where Harding’s threat would be minimized.
While he listened to Luke and his dogs radio traffic, he studied the surrounding area, trying to determine possible destinations. “Something’s wrong. There’s nothing in this area that’s right for a meet,” he shouted to Bryn. Before she could respond, Blue Dog reported, “Dog pound, I’ve lost visual. I repeat, I’ve lost visual.”
“Have you lost signal, Blue Dog?” Luke asked.
“Negative. Signal is strong. Our stray is not moving.”
“I can’t see them either,” Alice yelled. “They went under that overpass, but haven’t come out yet.”
* * * *
“I count four,” Phoebe said. When Stern arched a thin blonde eyebrow, she added, “Cops. Following us.”
Something that might be amusement flickered in his eyes. “It won’t be a problem much longer. We get out here. Keep low—don’t draw attention to yourself. It wasn’t my idea to keep you alive this long.”
She nodded, and he released the lock. She slid out, doing as she was told. She could have ditched him—he wouldn’t risk shooting at her in front of so many witnesses and with cop hounds so close on their ass—but that wasn’t part of her plan. They dodged a few cars and scrambled into the rear of an unmarked white van parked near the curb, but out of sight of the cops’ sight line.
When the light changed, the van driver pulled away from the limo and the hounds. As they emerged from the shadow of the overpass, she recognized the driver. He was one of the TelTech shooters. He didn’t turn in the direction of TelTech but in the direction of Harding’s warehouse.
No big surprise Harding didn’t intend to do as he’d been told.
“This isn’t smart.”
“No shit.”
“But you have a plan.”
Stern’s smile had a feral quality. “I always have a plan.”
* * * *
“Anybody got a visual?” Anxiety sharpened Luke’s voice.
“I got ’em. The light stopped them, but they’re moving again,” Red Dog said.
More time, more turns. Where were they heading? Jake wondered, once again comparing their route to possible outcomes on the map. They’d avoided the freeway and residential areas and were now traveling through a business suburb. Jake’s gut was telling him something was very wrong.
“We got a turn signal,” Green Dog said. “This may be it.” He gave them the address. “Looks like some kind of limo company. What do you want us to do?”
Limo company?
“Move in,” Luke ordered after a brief hesitation, “but do not fire unless fired upon. Repeat. Do not fire unless fired upon.”
“We joining the party?” the pilot asked.
Jake hesitated, then shook his head. “Hold position.”
It seemed to take a long time for the dogs to report, “It’s a bust, Dog Pound. Repeat, it’s a bust. Limo is empty.”
Bryn looked at him. “Now what?”
Jake tapped a spot on the map. “Let’s check out this warehouse.”
* * * *
Through the windshield of the van, Phoebe, sitting in the back, caught the occasional glimpse of warehouses. From the passenger seat, Stern kept his gun pointed at her. As far as she could tell, he hadn’t blinked. The van passed through warehouse doors, then stopped so abruptly, if she hadn’t been seated, she’d have taken a nasty tumble.
Without a seat belt, Stern wasn’t so lucky. He slammed into the dash, the gun flying out of his hand. Before he could recover, the van’s driver had pulled an Uzi from under the seat and pointed it at him. The second shooter, also holding an Uzi opened the rear doors.
Stern played it cool.
“Farley?” he said.
Phoebe was glad she wasn’t on the receiving end of his look.
Farley didn’t appear to like it either. He looked uneasy as he tightened his grip on the Uzi and shifted but held his ground. “Sorry, boss. Got a better offer from Mr. Harding.”
It seemed Dewey’s plan to sow the seeds of discord had worked. Would it help her situation now or make it worse?
“You do not want me for an enemy,” Stern said. Though he hadn’t moved, he had the look of a tiger about to spring on his prey.
Farley noticed it, too. “Harley!”
Harley came around and opened the door on Stern’s side, gesturing with the Uzi for him to get out. If it weren’t for the hardware, the pair of gunmen would have looked comical. Both had potato-shaped bodies, narrow on top, then widening to hips atop legs that looked too short. Farley had a Cheetos bag poking out of the pocket of his ratty jacket. Harley appeared to prefer Ding Dongs.
Stern got out. Harley gave him a wide, respectful berth, almost dancing on his toes with anxiety.
“I make a bad enemy,” Stern added.
“You won’t have time to be a bad enemy, boss,” Harley said. “You’re gonna be deep-sixed ASAP. Sorry.”
He sort of looked like he meant it.
Stern’s cold gaze hammered Harley long enough to make him take a step back and take a better grip on the Uzi.
“You chose the wrong side.”
Farley looked at Phoebe. “You, too. Get out, and keep your hands where I can see em.”
Phoebe did as she was told. This was it. This was the moment she’d planned for, worked toward for the last seven years. Well, not exactly this moment. In her imagination, she, not Farley and Harley had been holding the Uzi.
There was no sign of Harding, but she felt his presence. Though the warehouse appeared to be standard issue in size and level of dirt, with a temperature well in the stifling range. Evil pervaded the structure. What wasn’t standard issue were the spotlights and video cameras arrayed around a metal-framed double bed. The bedspread was leopard skin, and various implements of bondage were scattered around it in a way that some might consider artistic.
While Harley covered them, Farley patted both of them down, then nudged them toward center stage. Harley secured Phoebe to a metal folding chair using a pair of the ominously plentiful handcuffs. Stern was prodded toward the bed but balked when Farley told him to lay down on it.
“Mr. Harding doesn’t much care what shape you’re in, boss,” Farley said apologetically. While Harley kept him covered, Farley raised the gun butt. After a stare-down that left Farley looking shaken, Stern lay down and allowed his hands and feet to be cuffed to the four corners of the bed.
Phoebe found herself in the odd situation of feeling sympathy for a murderer. He’d probably killed Ollie, she reminded herself, but it didn’t help. This wasn’t about who he was or what he’d done. This was about what she was. And what she didn’t want to become.
“I think I like your plan better,” she said to Stern.
“It’s not over yet,” Stern said with enough menace to turn Farley white as a sheet.
“Go get Mr. Harding, Harley.” Farley licked his lips, looking over his shoulder. Phoebe noticed that Harley gave Stern a wide berth as he headed for a door to a partitioned area off to one side.
“You do know why Harding wants him dead, don’t you?” Phoebe figured now was as good a time as any to stir the waters a bit more. “He knows too much.” She waited a beat, then added, “And now you do, too.”
“Ain’t like that.” Farley’s bravado was unconvincing.
Stern flicked Phoebe a look that might have had respect in it. “Harding’s running for governor. He can’t afford to let you live now that you know about this place.”
“Trying to sow the seeds of discord among my men,
Stern?” Harding strolled out of the shadows.
Phoebe watched him come. Here and now melted away, leaving the past rushing in to fill its place. He’d changed his face, but he couldn’t change who and what he was. It showed in the way he walked and in the satisfaction gleaming from his hungry eyes. He thought he was the alpha dog, and it showed. The charm was gone. This was the reality behind the myth. He hid his evil well, but like the lava lurking beneath the earth’s crust, it had to break through to relieve the pressure on his dark soul.
“Try to take being replaced,”—he gave Farley and Harley his most reassuring smile— “with a little dignity, Stern. You know I only punish those who betray me.”
“You’ll never be governor, Harding,” Stern said. “You’re going to die today.”
“I will be whatever I want to be. It is my destiny. It is my right.” He looked down on him. “I knew I had the capacity for great power, and now I am in full possession of it. I was never meant to be bound by the petty restrictions of lesser people.” He tested the handcuff that held Stern’s wrist against the headboard. “They feel my power, they are drawn to it like moths to a flame. They will overlook its dark manifestations because they need it. They need me.”
“When this gets out—”
“It won’t. You might call this the final performance of my little theater of the real. You first. Then Nadine.”
Phoebe felt his gaze shift her way, felt the chill of his evil reaching out to wrap around her as he walked toward her. They’d come full circle. The past had met the present. It was hard to feel other than powerless while shackled to a chair. I’m not alone. Her spirit reached out to Dewey. To Jake. Don’t give up on me.
“Nadine.” Harding sighed, something beyond satisfaction entering his gaze. “My, how you’ve grown.” His gaze traveled down her body like slime oozing from a pit.
“And you’ve become addicted to clichés.” It was dangerous to poke a snake. She could see how close he was to losing it. She still knew the signs. But now, like then, she couldn’t submit to him. “Not that you ever were very original.”
He stopped, his gaze promising punishment. “Why aren’t her feet secured?” he snapped.
“Afraid the little girl can kick?” Phoebe taunted him.
Harding waited until her legs were secured, then pulled a chair in front of her and sat down. His knees rubbed against her first. He leaned toward her, his gaze raking up her body. His breathing sped up as he flexed his hands then lowered them to her knees.
Her body flinched. She couldn’t help it. He smiled, then gripped until she had to bite her lower lip to keep from crying out. Her soul retreated from him because her body couldn’t. She used her eyes to deflect and defy him. He’d never gotten total submission from her. Not then and he wouldn’t now. If it was her only victory today, she wouldn’t give it to him. She wouldn’t.
His hands slid down to her feet, removing the black heels she’d been wearing when Jake arrested her. He looked at them, then smiled. “We’ll save these. I might need them later.”
His eyes reminded her what he could do with a high heel to the skin of a bare back as his hands started moving over her knees and up her legs. Under the edge of the black dress, he stopped.
“You wearing a wire, Nadine?” He kneaded and pinched the flesh on the inside of her legs. It took all her control not to respond in any way.
“If I am wired, you won’t find it by groping me. My friends get their equipment from the same place as the CIA.”
Rage flared in his eyes. He dug his nails into her flesh, leaving red crescents on her bare skin.
“Careful, Nadine. You know how I feel about disrespect. We have a couple of hours to get…reacquainted before the meeting with your partner. I’d hate to spend too much of it going over old ground. There’s so much new ground to cover.”
He ran his hand up under her dress, fingering the edge of her panties. He retreated, then went up again. Her body jerked, and he smiled. I can do anything I want and you can’t stop me, his eyes told her as his hands finally retreated.
He rose, his eyes strangely lit as he cupped her chin, forcing her to look at him. She knew what was coming and rode out the slaps, first one side, then the other. A blood trail, warm and thick, formed on either side of her mouth.
“Think about it, Nadine. This can be pleasant,”—he stroked the side of her face— “or hard.” He hit her again, with the back of his hand. “Think about it very carefully, while I take care of some new business.” He pushed the chair back, but before he left, he grabbed her chin and held her immobile while he licked the blood off her mouth, first one side, then the other. He whispered in her ear, “Yum. You taste good, Nadine, much better than Kerry Anne.”
He straightened. “Will you be as good as her?”
“Go to hell.”
“We’ll see who goes to hell today.”
She didn’t see the punch coming. The blow snapped her head back and turned everything black. When her vision cleared, Harding was standing by Stern.
“I’d like to take care of you myself, Barrett, but the video’s worth more if Lily does you. And it will be so educational for Nadine. I’ll sit next to her and enlighten her on her options and the consequences of defying me.” He turned to Harley and Farley, who were both looking queasy. “Get those cameras going and—”
The ring of a phone cut across his instructions. Annoyed, he signaled Farley, who was nearest the office, to answer it. “Take a message.”
In a minute the man was back. “Wouldn’t leave a message. Said you better come to the phone if you want your rabbit.”
With a muttered curse, Harding left them. Both Harley and Farley looked relieved as they mopped their sweaty brows.
“Who’s Lily?” Harley croaked. He looked a little green around the gills. He turned and bumped a tray of what looked like surgical instruments.
“Lily?” Stern smiled. “You don’t want to meet Lily. But you will.”
From the office they heard the phone slam back into the cradle. Harding emerged, his face a thundercloud. “It seems we’ll have to postpone our business here for a short time.” He frowned. “Put her in the van, and drive North. Take your cell phone; make sure it’s charged. Wait for instructions.”
Farley nodded and went to work on Phoebe’s cuffs. Harley nodded toward Stern. “What about him?”
Harding hesitated. “Leave him. This won’t take long. We’ll deal with him when we get back. It’ll give him time to ponder the error of his ways.”
Phoebe waited until they’d were driving away from Harding to say to the two men, “I hope you’ve both got strong stomachs.”
Harley turned a deeper shade of green, Farley white as a sheet.
* * * *
The rain was starting to let up when Jake, Alice and Bryn approached the warehouse. Weapons out, Jake signaled for Alice to stay where she was. Bryn went right. Jake went left. There were no windows, but Jake rounded a corner and found a door standing ajar.
Policy dictated he wait for Bryn to back him up, but Jake was sick of waiting. He nudged the door open just wide enough for him to slip through, then stopped so his eyes could adjust to the dim interior.
Ahead of him, dirty skylights cast uneven light in a line down the center. He rounded a partition that could have been an office and saw a sight that stopped him in his tracks.
“Jake? Where are you?” Bryn’s voice came through the radio earpiece.
“I’m inside.”
“Without backup? Are you nuts?”
“Trust me when I say there is no threat here.” Despite this reassurance, he did a quick recon of the area, with his held gun out, the barrel pointed slightly down. Only then did he approach the bed and its gagged, manacled, and very naked occupant. Around him, among some very interesting bondage equipment, were the tattered remains of what were probably his clothes.
Jake picked up a piece and examined it. It appeared to have been cut off. Possibly with the knife stuck in
the mattress between his bare thighs.
“Do you require assistance?” Jake asked, trying not to grin.
He gave Jake an eye rolling, “Are you kidding?” look.
Jake removed the gag, then looked around for the keys to the handcuffs.
“What happened?” He heard Bryn and Alice coming in and grabbed a piece of shirt, tossing it over the guy’s family jewels, which weren’t exactly doing him proud.
Farley looked glum. “An unfortunate error in judgment.”
TWENTY
Phoebe had hoped she’d done the right thing, helping Farley convince Harley that Farley should go back and release Stern. Both of them agreed Harding wasn’t what they’d expected, but Harley thought it was too late to change back to Stern’s camp. Farley hadn’t called in, which seemed to indicate Harley had been right. A pity right didn’t seem to be much comfort, Phoebe thought as Harley wiped his sweaty brow again. If Farley had freed Stern, Harley was now squarely in the very nasty, very dangerous middle. She just hoped it would help things break their way. They could use a break right now.
While Harley drove and sweated and muttered, Phoebe went to work on her handcuffs. They’d secured her hands in front, a lucky miscalculation for her. It didn’t seem to be their day for making good decisions.
Keeping a wary eye on wild-eyed Harley, Phoebe unpinned the rose Dewey had given her and put it to good use. The small snick of the handcuff lock releasing came at the same moment Harley’s cell phone rang. They both jumped at the sound.
Phoebe met Harley’s gaze in the rearview mirror.
He rubbed his face, his hand shaking, then picked up the phone. “Y-y-yes?” He listened for a moment. “Okay. Sure…Fine. Everything’s fine.” He looked at her again, perplexity written large on his face. “He wants me to take you to the TelTech parking lot.”
“Better do what he says.” When he wasn’t looking, Phoebe pinned the rose to the inside of her waistband. Just in case. Then she positioned the cuffs so she appeared to be secured.
She leaned back, getting as comfortable as the metal panels would allow. So, she’d been right to think Harding would choose his own turf. It was obvious he thought he could get RABBIT and keep her, which meant he intended to pop Dewey as soon as he turned over the chip. She thought about the warehouse, the bed and the things around that bed. If Harding got his way, Dewey would be the lucky one.
The Lonesome Lawmen Trilogy Page 57