“I’ll get the swat team over there.”
“No.” Britt gripped the man’s hand as he reached for his radio. “He’s monitoring the police radio.” Britt’s mind was again functioning at top speed. “He knew that I knew she was missing. He must have been listening when you had officers sent to the hospital. He’s special ops, good with electronics, and his time on my security has given him a lot of access to them. He’d be expecting something like that.”
Todd was quiet a minute, thinking over everything. “You’re right, he’s monitoring the radio. I’ll call it in on the phone, and we’ll plan it for communication silence. They still have the building plans you supplied earlier. It won’t take long to set up.”
“We don’t have the time. He’s expecting me in about ten minutes. He called me from my office phone. He let me know on purpose where he was. He’ll know how long it’ll take me to get there and do something to her if I don’t get there on time. I’m not going to let that happen. I’ll try to buy you some time, but I’m going there now.” Britt could see the detective thinking, he knew he was probably debating on arresting him for his own safety, but Todd also knew what he was saying was true.
Todd shook his head in resignation. “If you get killed, it will be my badge, but you’re right. The best bet we have is to let you go.”
“I take full responsibility if I die.” It was easy for Britt to say because, if Rachelle died he didn’t want to live either, but he was going to do his best to see that didn’t happen.
The man shook his head again. “Okay, but let’s get you a little prepared. Take off your shirt.”
Todd had the Kevlar vest out of his truck before Britt had his shirt off. He helped him strap it on. “Before you go in call my number. I’ll mute the call, but we’ll be able to hear everything. I’ll give you a police escort until a couple blocks away to make up for lost time, then peel off and come in with the swat team.
Britt raced through the streets following the flashing lights and praying Rachelle was all right. She was still so drugged up when he kissed her at the hospital. Several times, when she was coming in and out of consciousness, she had whispered that she loved him. He hoped she remembered his return of love. Was she even conscious now? Did she know what was happening? Was she in pain? She should be back in the hospital. She should be safe. He never should have left her. He just hadn’t expected her to be in danger. He had wanted it to be over so bad so he could concentrate on her.
Ahead, the police car pulled over. Britt forced himself to slow down and drive the last two blocks at a legal speed, though he wanted to press the pedal to the floor. His control slipped once he pulled in the parking lot and he ran into the building. He took the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. A sinister silence met him when he opened the door, but he knew he was at the right place. The entire floor was pitch-black except the sliver of light that cut under the door to his office.
Britt debated on stealth then tossed it aside and strode forward. Still nothing prepared him for the sight when he opened his door. Light pooled around Rachelle. She was strapped down to a wheelchair. The large glass window behind his desk formed an ominous shadow around her. Her head was almost totally covered in bandages, but he had no doubt it was her by the way her head tilted up, as if she sensed his presence. For all the carefully crafted setting, the most terrifying thing was the numbers that counted down on the bundle strapped to her lap. One minute thirty-eight went to thirty-seven, thirty-six before he could move.
Unable to stop himself, Britt rushed forward coming down by the wheelchair. “Rachelle.” He studied the bomb, wondering how he was going to get it off her or if he even dared try. The question was would the police get there in time? With this guy’s tendency to blow up things the bomb squad would be coming. But when the clock read one minute and seventeen seconds, Britt made up his mind he didn’t have time to wait. He raised his hands to study the wiring then froze as the voice sounded behind him.
“You made good time. You had a minute and a half left, but do you really think you can save her?” Isaac Warren stepped out of the shadows. He pressed a button on a devise in his hand and the countdown stopped. “You didn’t even bring the police. I’m impressed, but you never would have made it up here with them. I figured on that contingency.”
“I’m here, Isaac,” Britt used his name on purpose. “Let her go.”
The man visibly jerked. “That’s not my name.”
“It is.”
The cry that burst from the man was pained, and Britt knew he found one of the keys. “Going by your dead brother’s name won’t bring him back, just like what you’re doing won’t bring back Aubrey. Rachelle did nothing to hurt her. I did nothing. I hardly knew Aubrey.”
“You lie, she said you loved her. You took her away.”
“No. I didn’t know Aubrey or Ann except to greet her when I went through the office. I’m sorry if I hurt her by not paying attention and that she hurt you-”
“No, you did know her. She talked about the way you treated her. She told me that you would invite her into your office and had private lunches served, with champagne and caviar, then you would make love to her on your desk.”
“That is not true,” Britt said sharply. “Not any of it. I’ve never taken advantage of any of the women that work here. I’ve never had sex with anyone in my office, and I’ve never done a champagne and caviar lunch. I don’t like champagne or caviar. It was all a fantasy, Aubrey’s fantasy.” He dropped the last sentence to a soothing tone.
“No, you lie.” There was pleading in his words.
“No, you know Aubrey liked fantasy. She was fantasy, Ann’s fantasy.”
“No.” The cry cut through the shadow a second before the shot did.
Britt threw himself over Rachelle. A muffled whimper escaped from beneath the bandage. Behind her, the window cracked, but it didn’t shatter. Now that Britt had his hands on Rachelle, he found it impossible to release her.
“It’s all right,” he whispered to her. “He hit the window.” He could feel the panic in her and ran his hands over her to ease her. When he felt the strap that fastened on the bomb, he froze then carefully ran his fingers over it to feel for a wire that might be booby-trapped. The wire was hard to find because it looped down where the strap had been tightened to her. In an instant he made up his mind. Working by feel, he started to loosen the strap.
“Isaac, Ann was sick,” Britt started to talk, praying for time.
“No.” This time the objection was whimpered.
Britt glanced back but kept his fingers working on the tape. “She needed help. You knew that. You tried to help her. The doctor where you met tried to help her.”
“No, he just wanted her also. Just like all men. They all wanted her, but she loved me until you came along.”
There was another shot. Britt jerked, tightening his hold on Rachelle again, this one was closer, smashing another hole in the window. Rachelle strained against the tape holding her arms. Britt clamped his hands over them to keep her from hurting herself. “Easy.” This time it was the duct tape he went to work on, using his body to shield her while he felt around her ankle for the end and start to work it free. He was on her other ankle before the man behind him started to talk again.
“You’re not denying it.” The voice was back to a conversational tone.
“You won’t believe me if I do. Or you do believe me, but you don’t want to face it. Like you don’t want to face that your brother is dead.” As soon as the words were out, Britt knew he miscalculated.
“He’s not dead.” The words were punctuated by a bullet slamming into his side, the force driving him against Rachelle. His cheek pressed against the explosive, but he couldn’t pull back. Britt felt like he’d been hit in the side by a sledge hammer. He had to fight to breathe. It was several seconds before the shock eased enough for him to realize that, at least, there wasn’t any blood running from his body, which meant the vest had done its job. Men
tally, he sent his thanks to Todd for thinking of the vest then prayed for breath, wondering if he still didn’t have a broken rib.
The bomb shifted against his cheek as Rachelle struggled against the tape holding her arms in a frantic attempt to get to him. The hand he moved up and down her leg wasn’t too steady, but she calmed under his touch. He turned his head slightly and kissed her fingers before managing to push back enough to start working on her wrists. Each movement brought new pain to his side, but he had to get Rachelle free. She was too vulnerable in the chair, too easy of a target. If the bullet would have been two inches to the side, it would have missed him and hit her.
“I’m sorry about your brother, Isaac,” Britt started to talk again in a low soothing voice. Hoping to ease the tension in Rachelle as much as keep Isaac distracted. He wondered how much longer it would be before the swat team was there. “I’m sorry he was killed. I’m sorry about Ann, Aubrey. I’m sorry they died, but I had nothing to do with it. Rachelle had nothing to do with it. She’s innocent.”
“No.” The man’s voice was filled with tears. “She turned to you. I would’ve kept her safe. But she turned to you, helped you. I could have loved her. She could have been mine but she gave herself to you.” Rage started to build in his voice. “She’s not innocent. She’s just like Aubrey, giving herself to other men.”
Britt only had an instant to make the decision. “No, she’s not like Aubrey.”
“She slept with you.”
“She’s my wife. Do you understand that? She is my wife.”
The room was so silent Britt could’ve sworn he heard his heartbeat, wondering if he made a mistake again.
“You’re lying again.”
“I’m not.”
“Then where’s her ring?”
“It’s in my pocket. I have it because she was in the hospital. Would you like to see it?” Britt turned to face him and slowly slid his hand in his pocket and drew out two rings. “Mine,” he slid one on his finger, “and Rachelle’s.” He pulled the last of the tape free, raised her hand and eased the ring into place, kissing it before he moved it for the man to see. “I never loved Ann, never had anything to do with her, but I do love Rachelle.”
The man shook his head, but Britt continued talking. “Rachelle helped me because she’s a good person and because she loves me. Are you going to make her suffer because Aubrey lied to you?”
The gun lowered until his arm hung limp.
“You need to let Rachelle go. She never lied. She is innocent. You have to protect the innocent.” When the man didn’t move, Britt raised Rachelle to her feet. She wasn’t steady. He had to hold her and the bomb that hung loosely at her hips. Britt wondered if he could get her out of it and if she could manage to walk out of the room. He needed to get her out of there then maybe he could do something about Isaac.
A light flashed on Isaac’s belt. He jerked, but instead of bringing up the gun, he raised the remote for the bomb. “You lied,” he cried as he pressed the button reactivating the countdown, at the same time Britt dove for him, impacting with him before he could bring the gun up. Britt went for the remote while slamming the man against the wall.
Pain slashed through Britt’s head as Isaac brought the gun down catching him in a glancing blow, but Britt held on, slamming the hand against the wall trying to break the grip on the remote. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the gun coming down again. He barely got a hand up to stop the next hit. Isaac pushed off the wall, lowering his head. Isaac ran into Britt connecting with his shoulder driving him back. Pain rocketed through Britt’s body and he went down. But keeping his hold, he brought the man down with him. It was luck that had him coming up on top. Britt slammed his fist into the man’s jaw, and Isaac went still.
Not waiting to see if Isaac was unconscious, Britt dove for the remote, only to find it broken. Glancing to Rachelle, she sagged against the corner of his desk. The counter was down to nineteen seconds. It took one second to reach her.
“Raise your hands.” She obeyed as he gripped the webbing, pulling it up her body, over her head. His first instinct was to throw her over his shoulder as he had done before, but with the time at fourteen seconds, he doubted they could get far enough away to be safe.
He dropped the bomb to the desk, not taking time to think if anyone might be below. He grabbed up the wheelchair and smashed it against the window. The cracks made by the bullets in the safety glass made it impossible for the window to withstand the hit, and the glass shattered out. In one fluid motion he released the wheelchair, swung back, snatched up the bomb and flung it out the window. The blast came seconds after it disappeared from sight. Britt didn’t care though. He had Rachelle in his arms, and that was all that was important.
He held her to him pressing his lips down her face, sometimes catching bandages, sometime skin. It didn’t matter, he had her.
He forgot about Isaac until he saw the movement. Britt shoved Rachelle behind him shielding her with his body as Isaac’s hand came up with the gun. Three shots echoed through the office, but this time, no blows impacted into his body.
Isaac’s form dropped like a marionette cut from its strings. The man in the doorway kept his gun trained on the man who had threatened everything Britt loved. Isaac didn’t move.
Britt’s attention went back to Rachelle. “It’s all over.” He kissed her again. “Let’s get this off.” He unwrapped the gauze from around her mouth then carefully removed the duct tape he found under it. He kissed her lips tenderly when he reached them.
“Britt,” she whispered against him, doing her own seeking of his lips for assurance.
“It’s over,” Britt said again. “It’s really over this time. The police have him.”
She sighed and rested her head against his shoulder.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, just so happy to have you. I love you. I was afraid I would never get to tell you that again.” Though he couldn’t see them, the sound of tears was heavy in her voice.
“I know what you mean. I was afraid of the same thing.”
“I want to see you. I need to see you.” She reached up clawing at her bandages.
Britt caught her hands, bringing them to his lips, kissing them before laying her palms against his cheek, pressing her fingers there. “Patience, love.” He kissed her again. “Now is not the time, it’s too soon. We need to get you back to the hospital, see me this way for now.”
He helped her make the first motions with her fingers before she took over tracing each curve of his face. Her lips followed her fingers then her hands dropped to his chest and stopped.
“A vest, you’re wearing a vest. You really are all right.”
“A little bruised is all, thanks to Detective Todd.”
She pressed against him, placing a kiss over his heart. She clung to him a moment before she kissed him again. “Detective Todd,” she said out loud.
“Yes, Mrs. Clairbourne.”
Britt knew the man wouldn’t question how she knew he was in the room though he hadn’t spoken to her.
“Thank you so much.”
“For what?” The man was clearly confused.
“For watching over Britt when I couldn’t.” Rachelle pressed her lips to Britt’s once more. “Though, I hope to be able to do a better job of it in the near future.”
Epilogue
Rachelle’s face glowed with happiness, as she looked up at him. He had tried to make it the best Christmas for her ever, but she had made it for him. Each day was incredible with her. She opened his eyes with her delight of seeing things again, giving him an appreciation for things he had never known.
He laughed when he raised the lid of the box and removed the stuffed teddy bear. “It’s cute.” He looked at her delighted face. “But, I hope you don’t think he’ll take your place. It might be soft but I happen to like cuddling you.”
“Good.” She beamed back. “Then you’ll have to find someone else to give it to.”
It
took him about two seconds to realize she what was talking about. His gaze dropped to her stomach, and she laughed out loud.
“You’re pregnant.” He reached for her.
The rest of the gifts were forgotten as they celebrated the special gift they had given each other.
About the Author
I grew up in a small town in Wyoming loving the outdoors, sports, art, and reading Hardy Boys books. After reading them all at least a half dozen times, I started writing my own stories.
Thirty years ago I married a wonderful, honorable man. I’m mother of five children and grandmother of six boys. I love traveling. Through my husband’s work and vacations, I have visited much of the United States, all over Eastern Europe, Canada, Mexico, China, Thailand, Cambodia and Australia, giving me many intriguing locations and experiences for my stories.
I am a storyteller. I write the classic hero story because I think there’s a need for more heroes, love, and adventure in our lives. I’m not out to change the world with my writing; I’m just hoping to make your day a little better.
Alysia S. Knight
If you enjoyed Blind Witness feel free to drop by Alysia’s website www.alysiasknight.com . She would love to hear from you.
Other books by Alysia S. Knight
Letting Love Win
Past to Die For
Temperature Rising
Kare For Me
Coming soon:
Beauty and the Chief
This fairy tale gets mixed up. When the Beast can’t get women to love him, he kills them. Beauty, interior designer Jillian Taylor, becomes his next intended victim when, while running with her dog, she interrupts his ritual killing. Jillian catches the eye of another suitor, Police Chief Mark Richards, a man of honor, raising his son alone after being abandoned by a wife who loves show and status more than them. When Mark sees the truly good woman, under what he is afraid is all glamour, love begins to grow. The real question is will Mark be able to save Beauty from the Beast to make his own happily ever after come true?
Blind Witness Page 22