The door slammed shut behind them, so violently it shook the walls. A yellow light flickered overhead, leaving the room drowning in pitch blackness every other second.
Gage frowned, creeped out himself. He could only imagine how uncomfortable Veda must’ve been if she’d found herself alone in there.
Linc moved across the room to the door that separated the actual trashcans from the vestibule. Yellow crime scene tape had been strewn across the door. He fingered it with a cringe.
“Maintenance puts up the tape when the rooms are full,” Gage said, pointing to the concrete staircase located at the far end of the room. “There’s a trash room on every level.”
Linc cursed under his breath and jetted towards the stairs.
Broken from his stupor, Gage followed, and a moment later they were both racing up the steps two at a time, their breathing coming out in rapid bursts.
This time, it was Gage who barreled into Linc from behind when he came to a sudden stop at the top of the stairs. Linc fell forward, barely catching his fall.
Gage sidestepped him, also struggling to find his footing after their run-in, taking hold of the stairwell railing on his left as his eyes fell to the floor of the second story landing.
When he caught sight of what had stopped Linc dead in his tracks, Gage collapsed against the railing, shoving his hands into his hair and nearly pulling the strands from his scalp.
“Tell me that isn’t…” Gage kept one hand in his hair, every inch of color draining from his face as he covered his heart with the other. “Tell me that isn’t blood.”
Linc pulled a store receipt from his back pocket and used it to pick up the cell phone lying on the concrete floor, face down, next to a small puddle of what certainly did look like blood. The phone’s black casing made it nearly invisible under the looming shadows in the stairwell, but Linc had caught it.
Once Linc had it in his grip, careful not to get his fingerprints on it, he showed it to Gage, who had to swallow back a heave that had sent bile racing up his throat.
Gage dug his fingers into his shirt, nearly ripping the buttons away as he drank in the shattered screen of the iPhone. All he could do was nod rapidly, unable to speak past the sickness blocking his throat.
“Yeah,” he finally managed. “That’s her phone—” He couldn’t finish.
Linc barreled back down the stairs, holding his stomach, his own face now deathly pale, his own eyes now filled with the dread that had taken over every inch of Gage’s body.
Snapped out of his shock, Gage followed behind Linc, tripping over his own feet, knees shaking almost as furiously as his heart pounded. By the time Gage made it back down to the first level, Linc was already out the door, which slammed violently closed behind him.
Gage yanked the door open and raced outside, catching sight of Linc standing in the middle of the street with a phone to his ear. He sobered and hurried over.
“Fresh tire marks,” Linc said without looking at Gage, every muscle in his body rigid as he motioned to the tire marks on the street outside of the building.
Gage’s chest heaved, struggling to find it in his shredded heart to even respond. “I left her,” he finally whispered, tears stinging his eyes. “I left her. I fucking left her.”
Linc didn’t acknowledge Gage as he slowly fell apart beside him. Instead, giving all of his attention to the person he was waiting to pick up the phone on the other line.
“You guys looking for that red cab?” a female voice called.
Linc and Gage snapped their heads toward the new voice. A woman with long gray dreadlocks leaned forward on the rails of her first-floor balcony across the way, with a burning cigarette hanging between her fingers. The moment they met her eyes, she flicked the ashes from the tip of her cigarette before placing it between her thin lips.
Linc cringed at her. “You saw the vehicle that was just here?”
“A red cab,” she reiterated with a nod.
“Did you get a look at the driver?” Gage begged, sidestepping Linc to get a better look at her. “Did you see a woman with him? A young, black woman?”
She shook her head. “Came out for a smoke a few seconds before he tore outta here like a bat outta hell. Wouldn’t have been able to get a good look if I tried.” She paused and then motioned to them with her cigarette. “But one of his back tires was going flat. And there was a Trump sticker on the bumper. Make America Great Again.” She snickered. “Hard to forget that.”
Linc jolted at that new piece of information, which was apparently delivered right in the nick of time, moments before the person he’d been waiting for on the other line picked up. “This is Detective Lincoln Hill.” He recited his badge number. “I have a missing person, possible kidnapping…”
“Jesus Christ.” Gage shoved his hands in his hair again, taking a healthy step away from Linc when the urge to scream nearly ate him alive. He studied Linc’s profile when he paused, presumably waiting for the person on the other end of the line to respond.
“I need all units on the look out for a red cab with a Make America Great Again bumper sticker,” Linc spoke rapidly. “I repeat, a red cab with a Make America Great Again bumper sticker.”
Linc ended the call and shoved his hand into his pocket, retrieving his keys while moving away from Gage and toward his pickup truck, which was parked next to Gage’s Phantom, in front of Veda’s apartment.
He pointed at Gage as he moved. “Stay here.”
Gage followed. “The hell I am. I’m coming with you.”
Linc pressed a button on his key ring, making the headlights of his truck illuminate along with the honk of the horn, indicating the vehicle had been unarmed. He paused with his hand on the door handle once he made it to the truck, meeting Gage’s frantic eyes.
“I need you to be here if she comes back,” Linc said.
“If she comes back?” Gage’s voice rose. “Her phone was on the floor next to a puddle of blood.”
Linc’s eyebrows jumped, and he seemed to have a moment where that obvious fact became difficult to digest. They both knew the only way Veda was coming back was if one of them found her and brought her back themselves.
Linc’s eyes shifted. “Panicking won’t solve anything,” he said, his own voice now slightly laced with the same alarm that was all over Gage’s face. “Stay here. If she comes home, call me immediately, a’ight?”
Linc ripped open the door without waiting for an answer and climbed inside. He only broke his eyes away from Gage’s stricken face after he’d started his truck and raced away, his squealing tires leaving behind even deeper track marks than the red cab that had carried away the only girl in the world with the power to bring the two of them together.
3
Patrol members be advised, a red cab has been reported traveling eastbound past Blackwater Park. Requesting units to head up.
The female dispatcher’s grainy voice filled Linc’s pickup truck less than a minute after pulling out of Veda’s apartment complex, but with zero information he actually needed. He snatched at the microphone on his police scanner, pulling the winding chord to the brim, nearly crushing the smooth plastic in his grip as a grimace darkened his face. Red Cab was the largest taxi service on the island. Hundreds of their crimson vehicles roamed the streets on any given day. Now that Veda had been missing for over an hour, every second was precious.
He activated the microphone with one hand, using the other to make a sharp U-turn eastbound. The street, lined with palm trees fluttering against the breeze, went quiet from every angle, as it often did in the dead of night, with a lone car passing only every now and again. The only sound for miles was that of his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
He brought the radio to his lips. “More details on the vehicle.”
A beep rang through, followed by the female dispatcher’s voice. Suspect is in a red Ford Fusion with a Make America Great Again bumper sticker.
Why hadn’t she supplied those vital details off the bat?
Red hot fury tried to paralyze him, but he fought it back, reminding himself of the advice he’d given Gage just minutes earlier.
Panicking wouldn’t solve anything.
He plowed the pedal of his truck to the floor, blazing through the street at breakneck speed in the direction of Blackwater Park.
A male officer’s voice came sputtering through the radio. Yeah, I’m in the area, I’ll head up that way.
Linc sighed, covering his mouth with an unsteady hand, a tiny sliver of tension leaving his taut body. Even though he was flying down the road, putting his life—and the life of any poor bastard that found themselves in his blazing path—on the line, he still wouldn’t make it to Blackwater Park for another five minutes.
He brought the radio back to his lips as he hurtled around a corner. “All units, be advised, Red Ford Fusion is suspected to be harboring a missing woman. African American female. Curly black hair. 29 years of age.”
The male patrol officer’s voice came over the radio again, followed by the music of his siren’s blaring. I have the vehicle. Suspect is speeding and, yeah, he’s not stopping.
Linc’s teeth ground. If finding Veda’s phone lying next to a puddle of blood hadn’t been enough to convince him that she’d found herself in a world of danger, that update definitely had. Of course the cab driver wasn’t stopping. He most likely had a kidnapped woman inside.
Linc tried to lay his foot on the pedal, but it was already glued to the floor. He zoomed past a red light, narrowly escaping a collision with a car edging forward on their green. Their angered honks filled his ears, quickly growing faint as he soared by without so much as a glance.
Another officer came over the radio. Female this time. Yeah, it’s confirmed. He’s running. Code three.
The male officer radioed a second later, his voice nearly drowned out as two sets of police sirens blared out of sync in the background. I see him, got him covered. Get us some backup. Need to take this guy down before he hurts somebody.
It wasn’t just that red cab that was on the verge of hurting somebody. Linc was right there with him, charging past another red light with a left-hand turn so sharp two of his tires left the street. The two that remained screamed against the asphalt, kicking up white smoke that billowed in the rearview. He couldn’t spare a moment to worry about the stress he’d just put on his tires because the sign for Blackwater Park had just come into view.
Code six! Suspect just rammed a patrol car on Tropicana and MLK.
Linc cursed under his breath—knuckles ghost white as he clutched the steering wheel, his alert gaze darting all over the street. Not only was this bastard running, but he was putting Veda’s life at risk while he did it. Every vein in his body pulsed, gushing with boiling blood as his heartbeat skyrocketed. If Veda was in that car, the son of bitch driving had better pray the chase ended fatally, because even if he survived this, he sure as hell wasn’t surviving Linc.
The male patrol officer’s defeated voice filled the car. Damn it, I lost him.
The female dispatcher. All units be advised suspect was last seen heading North near the 7-Eleven.
“I got him,” Linc grumbled into the radio, every bone in his body locked tight as he caught sight of the red Ford Fusion blasting through another red light, narrowly escaping a crash with another vehicle. A donut tire had been placed on the Ford’s rear wheel and appeared moments from popping off under the driver’s breakneck speed. The dreadlocked woman from Veda’s apartment complex had been right about the flat tire, which the driver had apparently stopped long enough to switch out with the temporary donut, delaying his getaway. It was a delay that had probably saved Veda’s life.
If Veda was in the car.
Linc made a sharp right in pursuit of the Ford as it blazed by. The 7-Eleven came and went in a flash as he trailed the Ford relentlessly, his throat closing up when he caught sight of a head poking out from the backseat of the car. He could only see the shadowed outline of the head through the tinted windows, but could instantly tell that the shadow’s straight hair didn’t belong to Veda.
He prayed he and Gage were wrong. Maybe Veda had just stepped out for a quick errand, and this was all one big overreaction. Maybe Veda wasn’t in that Ford at all.
His engine growled as he came up against the Ford’s ass like glue, the headlights of his truck nearly touching the Make America Great Again sticker on the back of the red bumper.
Sirens sounded behind him, and Linc gave a sharp look into the rearview just long enough to see a single patrol car in close pursuit behind him, its lights flashing against the dark night sky, the wails of its sirens filling the quiet streets. Whether or not Veda was in that cab, the driver’s days were numbered. Word of the chase had made it back to the precinct, and they’d have a helicopter in the air in a matter of minutes.
The suspect turned left and then left again. Linc stayed right on his tail. The cruiser behind him broke away, making a sharp left into a narrow alley. Assuming this was an attempt to cut the suspect off one street over, Linc swerved to the right and sped up, coming up next to the Ford, making it impossible for him to take a right.
Sweat dotted his forehead as he tried to get a look into the car while keeping his eyes on the road that was buzzing by, but every window was heavily tinted. Just dark enough to make it impossible to see anything but shapes and silhouettes. A part of him ached to sideswipe that motherfucker, but that was a last resort considering someone was in the backseat.
Considering Veda might be in the backseat.
His breath caught, and he sped up, stealing from the Ford the option to make a right, forcing it to take another left, then one more after that.
The police cruiser that had cut through the alley was there, just as Linc had presumed, soaring out of the backstreet at high speed, going airborne before barreling back onto the road, just in time to clip the Ford’s front tire at breakneck speed.
Linc winced at the sideswipe delivered with a little too much “love”, sending the Ford into a tailspin. He yanked his steering wheel to avoid getting caught in the Ford’s crosshairs, sending his truck careening toward the wall of a building. He slammed on the breaks, stopping just inches shy of crashing into an exposed brick wall.
Wide eyes flying to the rearview, Linc watched the Ford as it spiraled across four lanes, so quickly that white smoke floated up from the tires and spun with it, filling the night sky with a tornado of smog. For a moment, the Ford disappeared completely. Its tires screeched a little louder every second, and as Linc put his truck in park and jumped out, he worried that they might blow and really send the Ford out of control.
With Veda in it.
He sprinted across the street just as the passenger side door of the Ford barreled into a tree on the side of the road, halting in mid-spin with a deep dent in the body of the car.
Approaching the smoking vehicle, Linc drew his Glock, chest heaving, elbows locking in place as he pointed it at the Ford.
“Police,” he screamed, struggling to see through the thick cloud of smoke that was taking its sweet time dissipating, the aroma of burnt rubber filling his lungs and nearly choking him. By the time the smoke had cleared, he was able to make out the driver’s side door. It was open with no driver in sight. The backseat was empty as well, even though he knew he’d seen the silhouette of a woman there just minutes earlier.
His eyes left the empty car and dashed in every direction. He hesitated when he caught sight of the police cruiser that had sideswiped the Ford, sitting unmoving on the other side of the street with smoke billowing from the closed hood. It had jumped the curb, and the officer had yet to open his door. Apparently, the sideswipe had done more damage to the officer than it had to the suspect. Linc ached to race over to the cruiser to check if he was okay.
But he ached for Veda more.
He threw his gaze over his shoulder as the combination of burnt rubber and smoke worked to seal his lungs shut and sent him into a fit of coughs. He tried to swallow them back,
chest wracked, as a clicking sound caught his attention.
His eyes followed the sound, and he jolted when he caught sight of a petite woman with deeply tanned skin, wearing a high-waisted leather miniskirt that left very little to the imagination. She donned a cropped leather bandeau top to match, leaving the deep line down the center of her slim back almost completely exposed. She’d tied her stick straight, shock red hair into a ponytail at the very top of her head. Hair so long that, even in a ponytail tied as high as it could go, it still fell well past her tiny waist, nearly brushing her backside. A small blackbird tattoo was raw, cherry red, and swollen within an inch of its life on her right shoulder. Her hair blew behind her as she ran, struggling to get away in a pair of four-inch gold stiletto heels.
“Stop!” Linc skipped a beat before dashing after her, lowering his gun but keeping it ready at his side.
The woman, clearly shaken from the crash and struggling to run in a pair of strappy sandals that were too complicated to untie during a getaway, tripped over her feet at the sound of Linc’s demands resonating close behind her. She yelped when the boom of his combat boots on the sidewalk neared her as well. The clutch of his hand around her upper arm, so slim he was able to wrap his fingers all the way around it, stole a horrified gasp from her lungs.
She shrieked when he tugged, forcing her to face him, the womanly sound piercing the bitter air. Her ponytail swung as she swirled, fluttering down past her small bosom as she attempted to rip her arm from his grasp. Unlike the rest of her body, her stomach wasn’t waif-like but instead jutted out ever so slightly.
Linc’s mouth fell open at the sight, hesitating as he lifted his gaze and got a look at her round face. Big blue eyes. Even bigger cheeks. Full lips that had no business being painted so red. A willowy figure that hadn’t quite finished what it’d started.
“How old are you?” Linc demanded.
She let her knees go slack, trying to use her weight against him, but it was a losing battle with a man nearly three times her size.
Pulse (Revenge Book 5) Page 2