Vengeance (A Samantha Tyler Thriller Book 1)

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Vengeance (A Samantha Tyler Thriller Book 1) Page 6

by Rachael Rawlings


  “We have another meeting with the bank,” she began, a smile covering the lie. “But we’ll get back with you as soon as I hear about funding.”

  “And I’ll be looking for something that will match your needs,” George Lockley assured her, his accent pure Georgia.

  “That is terrific,” she replied.

  We shook hands all around, and Lockley showed us out to the reception area. The sweaty men were gone, replaced by a younger man in shorts and a tee shirt who was leaning over the reception desk as the woman drew out a few bills from her purse and handed them over.

  “That’s for gas only,” she said to the guy with a frown, and I realized it was presumably her teenaged son.

  “Hey, Chris,” George acknowledged the youth. “Coming to get some help from your mom?” The question was a playful barb.

  The teenager gave a sheepish smile. “Yeah, Mr. Lockley. I need a few bucks to hold me over. But I got an interview at the Doughnut Shop, so I should be making money soon.”

  “Good,” the genial older man said. “And we’ll be getting some free doughnuts, eh Franci?” Lockley said, his hand going to his generous middle.

  Franci, the receptionist, looked between the boy and man. “I don’t need all those extra calories,” she warned.

  “Maybe I do,” George exclaimed, then his attention turned back to Alex and me. “You ladies have a good day,” he said with a cheerful wave.

  We ducked out the glass door into the hot sunshine. Florida may be known for heat, but Georgia was coming in a close second, and they didn’t have the ocean breeze to take the edge off.

  We climbed in the boiling car silently, and I turned on the engine.

  “Now what?” Alex turned sideways in her seat.

  “Now we park nearby, and we listen.”

  “For what?”

  “Well, it sounded like Lockley got the news about Wheadon right before we showed up,” I said, as I buckled my seatbelt and turned in my seat to look over my shoulder. The road was clear. I already scouted where we would park for our surveillance. I steered down the road, circled the block, and came up on the side of the building. I had seen the spot from the window in Lockley’s office and knew I would have a clear view of him as he sat at his desk. As much as I didn’t like the idea, it would also give me a clean shot if I needed to take him out. My .22 might not have been up for the job, but Alex’s Sig-Saur would work fine. A few steps and I would be at his window, gun in hand.

  I pulled off my jacket revealing a sleeveless shirt much more suited for the heat. I wished I’d brought a change of clothes with me.

  “Now what?” Alex asked, unbuckling her seatbelt, and pulling off the unnecessary glasses.

  I lifted the lid of the laptop computer and booted it up. Rob included clear instructions on how to work the electronic listening device, and I found it was performing flawlessly. Through the computer’s enhanced speakers, there was an assorted number of shifting and grunting sounds from Lockley, and then a frustrated sigh. There was a click and the white noise of the fan made a lower groan as the blades slowed and came to a stop as he turned off the fan. I was worried about the interference it might cause and it was now a nonissue. As a bonus the open window would make the shot easier. The next thing we heard was the voice of the receptionist saying she was going out for lunch.

  We watched at a distance as Franci strolled down the short walkway and slid into a late model Ford Taurus. She drove off without looking around, no doubt oblivious to the two of us peering at her through the windshield.

  We heard Lockley’s end of a few one-sided conversations, one to a restaurant making reservations for his anniversary dinner the following Friday, another for checking on the status of the air conditioner repair in his office. I didn’t blame him for being testy. The fan was extremely loud when we were in his office, and I was certain it was much worse on his end as he tried to manage the phone.

  The temperature crept up, and I turned on the ignition to allow for some air conditioning in the cramped space. As the air gushed out of the vents and I leaned forward to let it stream over my face and neck, I heard the beginning of another discussion.

  “Ben, it’s me,” Lockley began without preamble. A pause, “Yeah, yeah, I got your message. Listen, we’ve got something else we need to take care of.”

  I felt the sinking feeling in my stomach. Did I make a mistake? Did the man and his southern charm take me in? I kind of liked Lockley and I wondered if it clouded my judgement.

  “Yeah, well, we might have a cluster-” his words were cut off. “Sure, it’s Wheadon again. You heard what happened? Took a nosedive off his own balcony. Speared through by a decorative fencing. Must have been a god-awful mess.” Another minute of silence, and I heard the chair squeal in protest as Lockley rocked his big body backwards, stretching. I could see the matching movements through the window. Without realizing it, I grabbed Alex’s purse and placed my hand on the handle of the gun.

  “No, nothing like that,” George was saying. “Just have the boys go out to the warehouse on Kennedy, in Chattanooga, and make sure the bastard didn’t leave anything incriminating behind. I don’t trust him further than I can throw him.” The big man produced a groan of annoyance.

  “Ben, get over there and get in the place. Break the door if you need to. I know we’ll need to clear it out before we can lease it again, but if that jackass was in trouble with the law, I don’t want it dropping on my head if he left a bundle of drugs or some hand printed funny money in the building. I told you he was off somehow. I’m sure of it now. We’ll be lucky if his shenanigans don’t come back to bite us in the ass.” George’s manner lost the good ol’ boy cadence and took on a brisk business sound with a good amount of annoyance.

  A moment of silence followed, and I wished I could hear the other side of the exchange. I held the gun steady in my hand and the sight of his slightly balding head hunched over the desk made me feel antsy. I realized I didn’t want to kill Lockley. There was a creepy sensation I got when I was negotiating with evil and I didn’t feel it here. Sure, he was dealing with a man who was probably involved in some dark stuff, and he should never have accepted the risk by leasing the property, but I didn’t think he realized what Wheadon had been doing.

  “Yeah, okay. Check the place on Kennedy and the one on Camdon. They’re only about ten minutes apart. Those are the only two where he was still active.” I could see George’s head bobbing as he nodded. “Yeah and get back to me.” There was a muted beep as George hung up the phone.

  “Sam, put away the gun,” Alex hissed, her tone a little frightened. “You can tell he didn’t know what he was getting into.”

  I glanced her way. Her lips were compressed into a thin line and her face a few shades whiter than normal. To play undercover agent on the pretense of questioning she could handle, but I doubted she would be able to shoot a man. Not, at least, unless she was personally threatened.

  I did as she asked and slipped the gun back in her handbag. Once upon a time I felt the same way, never wanting to take another life. Then Satan came calling and the Watchers were set free.

  The Watchers. The name alone made me shiver, and I suppressed the thoughts, instead thinking of the Abbey of Sainte Aalis.

  “I’m trying to concentrate, but I keep hearing that clicking.” My tone was embarrassingly whiny.

  “That clicking,” Sister Eva used my term, not hers, was meant to help me eliminate any outside distractions, giving me a focus not inside my body, which still ached from our latest training session. “Think of it as the heartbeat of the esprit, the spirit.”

  I took a deep breath. Focus on the spirit. My mind flitted away, and my stomach rumbled with hunger.

  “My child,” Sister Evangeline scolded. “The Watchers will not hesitate to invade your mind. You have felt them before. You know their stain.”

  My eyes fluttered open, and I looked toward the older woman. “Have you seen them?” I demanded, my voice harsh and edgy now. �
��Have you felt them? Have them take over your mind? Do you know what it’s like?” I was challenging her, but the anger flared bright and fierce.

  “Our order has battled the Watchers, all the evil spirits from Satan, for ages everlasting. It is only recently they were released in such numbers, with the revelation of the cave system. Let me assure you, we have encountered the demons before.”

  I swallowed hard. I knew the story. Brother Joshua gave me a summary shortly after my recovery from surgery.

  A disastrous accident led to their release. Hikers came upon a cave in Kentucky and delved into depths unexplored for ages. In their ignorance, they set free the Watchers, demons who invaded their hosts and took over their minds and bodies. Opening the cavern wide to allow the rest of their kind to emerge from their hellish prison became their sole mission. One of these beings took control of me, and for an inconceivable time, the fallen angel kept me trapped in my own body, powerless to cry out, to take any control. A bullet from Victor McCain’s gun took me down and drove the demon from me, leaving me injured but blessedly empty.

  “They have been on earth for as long as man,” Sister Eva said, her voice gentle and soothing. “It is our duty to make it impossible for them to join with you again.”

  “How?” My speech was determined.

  “We work.” Sister surveyed me over the glasses, her hazel eyes looking incredibly green in the sunlight. “And we concentrate.” A smile touched her lips. “We listen for the clicking.”

  Chapter Five

  The names of the streets and the quick hack of a few databases made it easy for Kurt to narrow in on the addresses of the leased buildings. They were both in Chattanooga, in Southern Tennessee, another drive for me, but not terrible. On my way down to hunt and kill Wheadon, I traveled straight through the heart of Chattanooga. It caused me to feel queasy to think how close I came to Wheadon’s secondary lair without any notion it existed. Alex was thrilled she could accompany me on yet another escapade. Me? Not so much. Risking my best friend was not something I wished to do, despite knowing full well Alex could take care of herself in most situations. The problem was, this was not most. There could be any number of otherworldly beings guarding the warehouses, and I never told Alex the whole truth. I worried if I fessed up, declared I battled vampires and hellhounds, she would immediately and forcibly admit me to a psychiatric ward of the closest hospital. And who could blame her?

  We didn’t hesitate when we returned to her house. We changed from our business attire to something much more suitable for kicking butt, as Alex said, and prepared to hit the highway. We left the dogs in the cottage. I knew in a pinch the dogs would be a benefit if I left them behind and anyone came prying into the cottage. I figured the commotion of the dogs would persuade them to come back some other time. They added an extra layer for security. Bart and Fluffy were trained guard dogs. As such, if anyone threatened either of us or the property, I was confident they would give their lives to defend us.

  I took inventory of our weapons, with some hesitation leaving my familiar Katana hidden in the trunk. It wasn’t exactly a stealthy weapon. Even in the sealed case, one constructed for carrying pool cues, it was nevertheless recognizable and would betray me to anyone who was watching for me. I chose the knife instead, as well as the handgun. Alex brought her piece as well. I hoped we wouldn’t require any other firearms, but I added a long-range rifle which would enable me to pick off people at a distance if needed. I made a point of not telling Alex about this addition. If things deteriorated to the point I needed to pull out the sniper rifle, then matters were well out of hand, and I didn't think she'd care.

  We were on the road twenty minutes later. In an odd blending of past and present, we plugged Alex’s phone into the car’s audio system and listened to 90’s pop music, singing along, badly, and whooping. We both shared an eclectic taste in music and the pure synthesized beats seemed to satisfy our mood just fine.

  We stopped once for food and ate in the rental car, preferring to investigate the warehouses before the unknown Ben managed to clean them out. I was assuming they weren’t still operating, but I realized I could be mistaken about that too. Members of the Church were a paranoid group and there was no way to know what Wheadon might have remaining.

  Chattanooga is a fair-sized city tucked into the Appalachian Mountain range, known for their scenery and bustling industry. The interstate twisted and arched over on itself with exits shooting off like the heads of snakes. It was no wonder Chattanooga prided itself on being a transportation center with numerous railroads and paved roads converging in confusing excess. The GPS helped me navigate the traffic, and we were on surface streets in plenty of time to beat the five o’clock rush. This would hopefully allow us to beat Lockley’s buddy, Ben. If we happened to run into him while we were scoping out the operation, then so be it. I was prepared either way.

  The first address was in an office park of sorts, not all that different from the section of the city in which Lockley chose to establish his own headquarters. There were cars lined up in the lot beside the building, but since the area serviced both Lockley’s place and the building next door, I didn’t know if it meant there were people working in Lockley’s building, or if the other organization was so full the lot contained their overflow.

  The amount of people there made me uneasy. This wasn’t a situation where we could break in, take out the bad guys, and then escape. No, there would be witnesses. There were plenty of individuals speeding by in their sedans and minivans.

  “Okay, you stick around here,” I instructed Alex. “No arguments.”

  Her mouth opened, but then she closed it and nodded.

  I walked to the side entrance, and hesitated, listening. I heard nothing from within. I tested the door with my hand and found it locked. I left that side and continued around to the back of the building. Here, there was better shelter from prying eyes. I strolled around to one of the windows, and slowed, crouching close to peer within. It was dark, but I could see this was an office. I gently pulled at the window frame and felt it move. I grinned. Nice. I applied the flat of my palm to force up on the window until it rose. When the opening was large enough to admit me, I slipped inside. As soon as my feet touched the concrete flooring, I knew I was out of luck. There was a single desk, no chair, and the floor was scoured clean of any dust, dirt, or signs of human habitation.

  I strolled to the entrance where the door remained ajar, exposing the immense space. Windows without shades showed squares of brilliance on the concrete floor, the long expanse of cleared space, empty.

  My mind veered back to The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. “And crumbs too small for the other whos’ mouses.”

  There was nothing here, absolutely nothing, which made me wonder if Lockley’s Ben beat us here, or maybe Wheadon’s colleagues cleaned the place out. Either way, this was a strike out.

  I paced quickly through the room in case they overlooked something, poking my head in another tiny office in the front and turned up nothing of use. I was swinging around to head toward the original office where I entered, when I heard a noise. I instantly dropped into a crouch and drew out my knife, ready for the throw. I picked up the sound of tentative footsteps and then the scrape of a shoe on the concrete as someone stopped to listen.

  I was suspended there, mid motion, for what seemed like many minutes when I heard the quiet sound.

  “Sam?”

  My muscles went limp, and I steadied myself before I rose. “Alex, dammit,” I snapped, grimacing.

  Alex slipped into the doorway of the office, and I was glad to see she at least brought the gun with her. It was still tucked in her waistband. I knew she wouldn’t draw it if she didn’t intend to use it, and I was happy it wasn’t aimed it in my direction. But then again, I knew Alex, and she wasn’t one to do something foolish.

  “What are you doing in here?” I demanded, an edge in my tone. “And how did you get in?”

  “I climbed in through the window, li
ke you did,” Alex said reasonably. “You were gone for too long. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” Alex glanced around the room. “There’s nothing here.” She pointed out the obvious.

  “I realize that,” I replied a little too sharply. I shook my head, “Sorry,” I said ruefully. “I was checking around, but this place has been cleaned out, but good. Whoever did this didn’t want to leave any clues to tell what they were doing.”

  “Do you think it was Lockley’s man?”

  I shook my head again, biting my lip unconsciously. “No, this is too clean. If Lockley asked Ben to take care of it, he would still be working. This place is completely cleared out, and Wheadon hasn’t even been buried yet. I’m sure his properties would have to be tied up for now for legal reasons. If this is part of his business, then I would venture his business associates did this.”

  “And the other place?”

  “We’d better head that way as fast as we can. There’s a slim chance they might not have made it there yet. This place still smells of cleaner. I bet they haven’t been gone from here more than an hour or two.”

  “Right, then let’s go,” Alex said.

  I grinned as I accompanied her. Her mind operated in similar ways to mine, and it was nice to have someone understand the next step without explanation.

  Our reliable GPS led us on another twenty-minute drive, the humid Tennessee air sticking to my skin like damp cotton. I jacked up the AC until the air blew the sticky black strands of my hair, making them dance around my face.

  Alex cast me an amused glance.

  “So how do you like the hair so far?” she asked, as though reading my mind.

  “It’s okay,” I said shrugging. I dropped my vanity along with my pride after recovering with the good sisters, and I didn’t need to look in the mirror to see the stiff expression on my face. “Maybe I’ll go blond next time,” I added, struggling to ease my reply.

  “Mmm, too pale. If you did that, they might think they’d have to put you in a coffin every night.” She curled one leg underneath her as she turned her body toward me. “You know, vampire style.”

 

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