The Grayce Walters Romantic Suspense Series

by Jacki Delecki

  The shipping workers who moved the freight to trucks and trains had finished their work hours before. No one was around.

  Railroad tracks protected by a ten-foot cyclone fence topped with barbed wire ran along one side of the access road. Puget Sound bordered the other. Over the high fence and over the tracks to Harbor Avenue was an unlikely escape route.

  Brandon pulled into the parking spot in front of a welcome sign—Certified Wildlife Habitat. Two other cars sat in the far side of the visitors’ parking lot—maybe she wasn’t alone.

  He turned off the ignition, then reached into the glove box, pulling out a large revolver.

  Grayce backed against the seat, away from the shiny, lethal weapon.

  “Afraid of guns?” His lip curled into a sneer. “I didn’t think there was anything you’d be afraid of. Don’t worry. I don’t have plans to shoot you…yet.” He laughed when she flinched. “My military school training comes in handy.”

  He tucked the gun into the back of his blue jeans, just like she had seen in the movies. “I learned a lot in military school, the same lessons I learned at home. Men use power to bend the weak to their will. And now the powerful men will bend to me.” He checked his cell phone and his eyes gleamed with a cruel light. “Five minutes before show time.”

  He got out of the car and walked around to her door. She could kick him in the chest and make a run. But getting shot when trying to scale the ten-foot fence wasn’t exactly a viable option. She was trapped for now.

  He opened her door. “We’re going to take a little walk up the hill for the view. You’re going to witness how much I learned in my military school training. Impressive—what I’ve engineered.”

  Grayce scanned the area, searching for other routes of escape. The path was cut into a large hillside with dense trees on both sides and fences beyond to prevent access to the shipyard.

  “Don’t try anything funny. I won’t hesitate to demonstrate my marksmanship. And I’d hate for you to miss the show.”

  Grayce shuddered. Icy fear ran down her spine rushing to her toes.

  He gripped her elbow. “We have to hurry. Damn downtown traffic.”

  Brandon walked next to her, his gun tucked into his blue jeans. To hide his weapon, he wore a lightweight jacket embossed with a smiling penguin. They walked for at least a quarter of a mile. As they climbed, they caught views of the parking lots filled with trucks and boats on one side and views of the Sound on the other.

  A teenage couple emerged, coming around the second curve on the path. They walked arm-in-arm, oblivious to everyone else.

  Brandon bent toward Grayce and whispered in her ear as if they were also a couple. His hot breath on her skin sent chills of repulsion. “Don’t think I won’t hesitate to hurt anyone who tries to stop me and my plan.”

  Grayce stared at the couple. Little chance that they’d notice her dilated pupils, her swift breathing, or her sweaty palms.

  Unaware of Grayce’s distress, the couple disappeared around the next bend.

  As Grayce and Brandon ascended higher, they had a panoramic view of Puget Sound. Jack Block Park was a peninsula that jutted into the Sound with a clear view of the Seattle skyline, the surrounding islands, Vigor Shipyards, and the container terminals.

  “Do you see the seals?” He pointed among the barges.

  Hordes of seals were lying next to and on top of each other on a floating buoy. More black heads bobbed in the water. Their high-pitched bark carried over the water.

  “What do you think will happen to those seals with an oil spill?”

  Grayce was horrified. An oil spill in Puget Sound? What was he planning?

  “Do you think they care about the seals, the dolphins, all the marine life in Puget Sound? All they care about is the money.”

  How could she answer a deadly fantasy?

  They kept climbing. Grayce was a bit short of breath from Brandon’s rapid pace and the sharp incline. Brandon wasn’t the least bit winded, which didn’t bode well for any attempt to outrun him.

  Brandon was in good shape, irrational, and armed. Her only chance against him was her Aikido. She had to wait for the perfect moment to use her less than hundred-pound weight against his two hundred pounds and his revolver.

  Did Davis realize yet that she was missing? He had no leads to her disappearance, but she had total faith in his skills. It didn’t look like he’d be in time for a rescue. She had to act soon.

  Brandon pointed to an orange platform thirty feet off the ground eight hundred yards ahead. “Our viewing room.” They began the walk up a winding path to the platform.

  Brandon turned in a full circle when they arrived at the platform. “The view is perfect. I’d first thought I’d watch from a boat, but this angle is better. More dramatic with Mt. Baker as a backdrop.” His body was coiled in expectation; his face twisted in excitement.

  He had brought her here to witness a heinous atrocity. She still wasn’t sure what the terrible deed might be.

  Brandon checked his watch. “Three minutes. You’re going to be mesmerized. I’ve seen videos of what the explosion will look like, but I keep visualizing it rather like a grand Hiroshima without the nuclear fallout.”

  “What do you hope to gain?”

  “Exposing the authorities who’ve failed us. Do you know how many oil tankers and oil trains are coming into Seattle? Do you? Do you think the Port Commissioners care? They’re in bed with the oil companies, stuffing their political campaigns with oil money.”

  “This is all about the oil tankers?”

  “I’m sending a message to the men who treat people like they’re nothing—not worth their time because they don’t measure up.”

  “Why Pier 69?”

  “Nothing gets past you—just like my mother. Very smart, Dr. Walters. Tonight is the Port Commissioners meeting.”

  “Why them? Why not target the oil companies?”

  “They argue that they’re bringing revenue into the city…they’re bringing revenue into their pockets. And what’s going to happen when Puget Sound is covered in an oil slick. Or one of those oil trains explodes near Golden Gardens? Will people care about the revenue?”

  Her stomach twisted with his quixotic vision. Was he right?

  “Look past the Ferris wheel. Those tourists are never going to forget their ride. It’s going to be better than the Fourth of July over Elliott Bay. And like the celebration of our independence, this is another strike against the men who believe they can walk over the entire world. A few men controlling everyone’s destiny. This will show them.”

  She shivered violently, abruptly cold with dread, nauseated from the inhumanity. How could she get away from his isolated spot and stop his malicious plan. “You’re killing innocent people.”

  “It’s the cost of doing business. See if the corporate devils like the cost when it involves them.”

  She kept hoping to wake up and be freed from this grisly nightmare.

  “And we have front row seats.”

  “You’ll never get away with it.”

  “My mother always had to point out the flaws in my thinking. Why my plans were unrealistic. Won’t you both be surprised?”

  He looked at his watch again. “One minute to D-day—been planning this for years.”

  Grayce was paralyzed. She couldn’t jump off the thirty-foot platform. She couldn’t disarm him unless he rushed her.

  He walked her to the west side of the promenade. “Look down there. There’s Gator and Mitzi waiting for us. I’ll be taking a little boat trip—Vancouver Island, and then to Jakarta.”

  A large powerboat was moored at the dock below them. Mitzi was tied in the back seat.

  He hadn’t include Mitzi or her in his plans.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  A fierce, battle-ready tension tightened every muscle in Davis’ body. The rampaging need to harm the bastard thundered through him. He held the steering wheel in a sweaty, death-grip when the traffic slowed through the West Se
attle Bridge interchange. The metallic taste of adrenaline saturated his taste buds. He’d give Hunter one more minute to call.

  Finally, his phone rang.

  Hunter spoke. “Davis, I’ve got you and FBI on speaker. The suspect exited Harbor Avenue. I continue to have eyes on Dr. Walters.”

  A stressed, controlled voice spoke. “This is Agent Andersen, FBI—Tactical Operations. Our hostage rescue team is fifteen to twenty minutes out. The Coast Guard is headed to Jack Block Park with an ETA of fifteen minutes. We’ve got to assume he’s planning to escape by boat. There’s a marina at Jack Block Park.”

  Davis knew nothing about the layout of Jack Block Park.

  “Agents Hines and Davis. This is now an official FBI operation. You are to wait until our arrival. Do not proceed on your own. Do you copy that?”

  “Yes, sir. Copy,” Hines answered.

  “This is a hostage situation with a possibly armed man. I don’t want any dramatics. You are to await my orders,” Andersen barked.

  Davis’ fear had been transformed into white-hot fury. “The hostage is my girlfriend. I’m not waiting around while that son of a bitch has her. Do you copy that?” His voice shook with rage. He slammed the phone down. He wasn’t about to wait for the FBI, the Coast Guard, or any other bloody federal agencies.

  He reached into the glove box and pulled out his service revolver. He wouldn’t be hamstrung by bureaucracy.

  His phone rang again. It was Hines.

  “Davis, what the hell are you thinking? I need you to let me handle this. You’re too emotional to function as my backup.”

  “I’m in total control. And I’m not waiting. This perp has a plan, and we need to intercept him before he gets Grayce on a boat.

  “I agree. I’m in the parking lot. I’ve got eyes on the car, but no one is in it. I’m going to move toward the water and the dock where he’d have a boat secured. Are you armed?”

  “Yes, Glock 30.”

  “By the map it’s at least one quarter mile to the water, but no other escape routes.”

  “I’m turning into the park. Head to the water. I’m right behind you.”

  Chapter Forty

  “Ten, nine, eight…” Brandon held his cell phone to detonate the bomb, counting down the seconds remaining before Pier 69 would be blown to smithereens.

  His deep voice boomed across the water. “…seven, six, five…” His glee in killing abraded her nerve endings, like nails clawing across a chalkboard.

  Grayce’s throat constricted. She struggled to breathe. She had a floating sensation, suspended as the world turned without her. She closed her eyes and prayed. Her helplessness was unbearable. With all her gifts and abilities, she hadn’t been able to stop this horrific disaster.

  “Three, two, one—bam!” His voice filled with exhilaration. His face beamed with excitement as he clicked the phone.

  Grayce stared at Pier 69 waiting for the unthinkable. She ran her hands up and down her jeans, trying to bring herself into the present, contain herself from shattering.

  Nothing.

  The only sounds were the raucous seagulls overhead and seals on the buoy.

  “What the fuck?” His face contorted into fury. His body coiled, ready to strike.

  Grayce backed away. Like a baited, abused animal, he was ready to attack.

  Her stomach rolled and dipped like the buoys below her.

  He turned toward her. His hands gripped into white knuckled knots, his rage focused on her. “You did this.”

  “I did nothing. I would’ve if I had known, but I didn’t know.”

  His eyes darted back and forth as he paced. “Bitch, tell me the truth or Gator will shoot the dog. Not enough to kill it—that would be too easy. But to make the poodle suffer as it bleeds out.”

  “Don’t hurt Mitzi. All I ever did was try to find the missing women.” She wasn’t sure if it was the ferocity of her fear or the desperation in her voice that convinced him, but he backed away.

  “I’ve got to get out of here. They’ll start looking.” He pulled his gun out of the back of his jeans. “Come on. And don’t try anything. Remember, I’ve got nothing to lose.”

  The adrenaline pumped into her veins, driving her racing heart to a frenetic pace. She was edging toward full-blown panic. Instinct screamed to run. She tried to inhale, but her lungs were too tight to breath.

  The cold nuzzle of the gun pressed through her t-shirt.

  “Walk down the ramp.”

  Her mind raced for an escape. She could use the Tenkai movement to knock the gun out of his hand then run. He was wound up, frustrated and ready to react. He’d be able to outrun her and there was also Gator in the equation.

  Her heart slammed against her chest and her mind was unfocused, like water rushing over a dam. She had to marshal her energy for the right moment—when he came at her. Aikido was using your opponent’s energy against him. He was cornered and dangerous, and she needed to use his distraction. Mitzi would fight when Grayce moved into action.

  He was inches away from her, with his gun prodding her back. She could smell his desperation as the fear gushed out of his pores. She had to pull back and center her entire being for the coming confrontation.

  “What are you planning to do with me and Mitzi?”

  “I’m leaving you with Gator. I’m not a violent person.” He pushed the gun against her back again when she slowed her walking. “But Gator’s needs are a bit more exotic. You should have an interesting time with him. He wanted your assistant as part of the deal. I had to do some hard negotiating, but he finally agreed that your meddling might be interesting to overcome.”

  She was abruptly cold with dread, nauseated from it. Her concentration smashed.

  “Keep moving.” Brandon prodded her again with his gun.

  It took all of Grayce’s self-control not to turn and knock the gun out of his hand. Instead, she calmly walked onto the dock to the large twin inboard speed boat where Mitzi and Gator waited.

  “Let me guess—your mother’s?”

  “She’ll miss it more than she’ll miss me, you bitch.”

  As soon as Mitzi spotted Grayce, she gave a whimpering cry. Gator, who sat behind the steering wheel, bellowed, “Shut up.”

  Revulsion shuddered through Grayce. Her entire body started to shake with the vicious violence she perceived in his face and eyes.

  “The stupid-ass dog has been crying the entire fucking time.” He turned and backhanded Mitzi. “Nothing shuts her up.”

  Mitzi, tied up on the back seat, growled at her tormentor.

  Grayce’s trembling intensified, driven by the need to retaliate. She couldn’t allow impulsive reactions to rule. She needed to remain in control to escape.

  Taking a shaky breath, she pulled her arms close to her side to stop the shivering and to assess her options. She eyed the angle in which she could lever her weight against Brandon to knock him into the water. Then she’d have enough time to run away before Gator could get out of the boat.

  She could barely hear above the roaring beat in her ears as her heart sped recklessly.

  “What the fuck is happening?” The fading sun reflected off the metal piercings imbedded in Gator’s face. “Why didn’t the bomb go off?”

  “I’ve no idea. I’ve got to get out of the country. Every cop in the state will be looking for me once Teresa realizes that I put the bomb in her backpack. Sorry bitch thought she was carrying her camera.”

  “It should’ve blasted the entire city with the amount of RDX we used.”

  Grayce could feel the anxiety exuded from Brandon. Gator wasn’t in the least upset by their failed plan and the jeopardy they were in if apprehended by the police. Grayce wondered if it was heroin or marijuana that kept him mellow. His drugged-out state was to her advantage.

  Gator stood and climbed over the front seat. He threw a canvas bag on to the dock. “You got the car keys? I’m out of here.”

  Brandon kept the gun leveled at Grayce while he dug in
his jean pockets to locate the keys.

  Gator bent over Mitzi to untie her. Brandon, with gun in his hand, stepped with one foot on the boat to hand Gator the keys.

  Immediately, Mitzi lunged at Gator’s face. Her teeth were bared as she attacked. She knocked Gator backward against the back of the seat then jumped off the boat and ran to Grayce.

  Crumpled on the floor. Gator screamed. “The fucking dog bit my face.” He put his hand to his face to stop the bleeding. He stared down at his hand, covered in blood. “I’m going to kill that cocksucker.” He struggled to stand.

  Brandon’s balance was precarious as the boat bobbed up and down. Brandon swayed between the dock and boat.

  Grayce didn’t have time for her careful Aikido plan—only time to react. She shoved Brandon as hard as she could from behind. The surprise and his precarious position sent him sailing face forward to the floor of the boat. His gun went off and hit Gator in the leg.

  “You stupid fucker,” Gator shouted. “You stupid fucker, you shot me.”

  Grayce sprinted with Mitzi following. She ran as fast as she could. She only had seconds before she knew Brandon would give chase. He wouldn’t allow her to escape.

  Grayce shot up the path. Her heart and legs pumped hard against the steep incline. All her senses were heightened. She noticed the sunlight flickering on the sidewalk, heard the seagulls overhead. Her over-wired nervous system waited for the gunshot.

  Her heart pounded against her ribs. Her breath was short, but she pushed on. She cleared the open area and headed toward the protection of the greenbelt. She never looked back to see if Brandon followed. Mitzi ran ahead. There was no escape except the path to the parking lot.

  The only sound was her hard spurts of breath. Mitzi bounced up the path as if on a morning jog. Grayce never slowed. The mix of fear and adrenaline kept her moving.