by Alexa Grace
"Look, I didn't hurt her. I swear. I took good care of her. I brought her healthy meals and plenty of water and milk. I even gave her pre-natal vitamins. I swear I didn't hurt her."
"Where is Jennifer?"
"She pretended to have labor pains and when I went in to check on her she kicked me and ran. I don't know where she is. I just know she's ..." The rumbling of a garage door opening above them broke his train of thought.
"Who uses your garage besides you?"
"Fuck you." His fear dissipated. "That's David. You're dead now. Once he takes care of you, he'll find Jennifer and kill her, too."
"Wrong answer." She jerked her small stun gun out of her pocket and jabbed him in the neck. His head bounced against the wall, and then he slid to the floor as he lost consciousness.
She slipped to the wall next to the staircase to listen and wait. It wasn't long before she heard the house door to the garage open, then slam shut. She heard a dragging sound, and grunting as David dragged something down the steps. When he reached the landing and walked into the room, she greeted him with her gun drawn.
He dragged Lane's limp body into the room, his gun pointed at Lane's head. "Drop it, bitch, or he gets it now instead of later."
She slowly lowered the gun, and then placed it on the floor near the staircase. "What's wrong with Lane? What did you do to him?"
Wordlessly, David drug Lane over to a chair, then pulled some rope out of his pocket and held it out to her. "Get over here and tie him to the chair. And do a good job because I'm watching you."
Taking the rope from David, she leaned down to wrap it around Lane's waist. Frankie held Lane's wrist to check his pulse. It was a little slow. She then tied his hands behind his back, as David directed. God, how she wanted to get Lane out of there and fast.
"Tighter. Tie the rope tighter," David shouted.
She pulled at the rope. If she pulled on it any tighter, it would cut off the blood flow to his hands.
She didn't know what she would do if anything happened to Lane. Why hadn't she told him she loved him? How many times had they made love and the words were on the tip of her tongue, but she lacked the courage to say them? Was she so afraid of getting hurt that she'd missed her chance to tell him?
Frankie pretended to adjust the rope as she leaned in close to Lane's ear. "I love you, Lane. I love you so much, baby."
"Move away from him." He sent her an icy glare and then noticed for the first time that Dr. Caine lay unconscious by the room where Jennifer was kept. "What the hell happened to him?"
"It was his naptime."
"Smartass, where is Jennifer? Or should I say, where is your cousin? Isn't that what you called her at the hospital?"
"You might want to reconsider the eavesdropping thing. In most circles, it's considered to be pretty rude," said Frankie. She backed up a step when his hand fisted, his face a glowering mask of rage.
"You're going to find out how very rude I can be. Let's go check on the good doc. You go first." He pushed her toward the other end of the room where the doctor still lay on the floor.
Behind them, Lane moved. He shook his head back and forth as he fought the grogginess. What the hell did Chambers have in that hypodermic? He blinked several times, trying to focus. Whatever the drug was, it was wearing off. He looked around. Where was he?
It was then he noticed Frankie at the far end of the room with David Chambers who was holding a gun on her. Dr. Caine was slumped on the floor and David was checking his wrist.
Lane quietly pulled at his arms, and then realized he was tied to the chair with rope. Stretching his hands, he tried to loosen the rope around his wrists. It stretched a bit, but not enough to free him. He kept working at it. Lane watched as David brought Frankie back to the sitting area near him. He shoved Frankie onto the sofa, and then he glanced at Lane.
"Well, look who's conscious, Mr. Lane Henderson. Did anyone ever tell you that you needed to exhibit some control over your bitch of a wife?"
Lane returned his glare and said nothing. A muscle clenched along his jaw. He wanted to kill him. If he hurt Frankie, he would.
"I bet I could teach you a thing or two about breaking in the little woman. A couple of good beatings and the promise of more can work miracles to improve a wife's behavior."
"Yeah, you're a big man, David Chambers. I saw up close and personal what you did to those two little girls. You're such a big man, you pick on little girls." Lane taunted him to get his attention away from Frankie.
"Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about." Provoked, he shifted toward Lane and moved in front of him.
"Let me introduce myself to you. My name is Lane Hansen and I'm a detective who knows you're guilty of at least two murders, maybe more. Any minute the county sheriff I work for, who was supposed to meet with me an hour ago, is going to storm this house with the SWAT Team. What do you think about that, big guy?"
"You're a liar!" He swung his arm wide and back-handed Lane hard. Blood sprayed from Lane's nose and mouth. Frankie jumped to her feet. David spun around to face her and screamed, "Sit down, bitch!"
Lane spit blood at David and jerked against the rough rope that bound his wrists. He gritted his teeth and pulled at the rope until it cut into his flesh. He had to get free before David hurt Frankie.
Frankie glared at David defiantly, and hissed, "Any wimp can hit a man who's tied up. Just like a sissy who beats up little girls. That's you, David. You're a bully who targets little girls." She purposely taunted him to distract him from Lane, who now strained at his bindings, his arm and chest muscles bulging.
David raced to the sofa. The second he swung his arm at her, she ducked, then popped up into position and kicked the gun out of his hand. It landed on the floor and slid under a chair. Stunned, he grabbed for her but she moved. He caught her by her ponytail and knocked her to her knees and held her there.
Lane roared at David, "You son-of-a-bitch, leave her alone. Fight me like a man!" Hurling insults as he rocked back and forth in the chair, Lane twisted his wrists until the blood slickened and loosened the rope.
"Shut up!" screamed David, who was still holding Frankie by her hair.
"Come fight me, big guy. What's the matter, are you afraid? You chicken shit! Are you scared I'll kick your sissy ass?" As he shouted, Lane twisted and turned his wrists to free himself from the rope. It was loosening. He was almost there. Lane clenched his jaw, made fists with his hands and made a fierce pull at the rope. It broke!
David's attention shifted from Frankie to Lane. This was a mistake. She used the opportunity to slam her elbow upward into his groin. He screamed and clutched himself. She didn't stop there. She knew she couldn't. He could recover and kill her and Lane.
Frankie grabbed David's thumb, bending back his wrist until he howled in pain. Jerking his arm behind his back, she dropped him to the floor. Still gripping his arm, she pushed her knee into his back as he struggled beneath her. But he was too strong. He struggled and got his wrist out of her grip, then flipped over on his back, wielding a powerful punch to her face. He sat on top of her, pinning her to the floor.
Lane flew across the room, slamming into David with such force; it hurled them both across the room. Lane threw a punch and heard a satisfying crunch that was the sound of David's nose breaking. When David's hand instinctively went to his face, Lane locked his wrist behind his back and twisted until David screamed in pain. Lane shoved his weight into his knee that was now pinning David to the floor.
"Baby, are you okay?" Lane called to Frankie who was now at his side.
They heard sirens then the front door slammed open. Three members of the SWAT Team followed by Sheriff Tim Brennan flew down the stairs.
"So you were telling the truth about the SWAT Team?" Frankie asked.
"Actually, I was bluffing. But I can't say I'm unhappy about handing these two bastards over to them."
A large man dressed in a SWAT uniform relieved Lane and soon had David in handcuffs.
&
nbsp; Tim looked them both over, noting the blood spreading across Frankie's white tank top and Lane's wrists that were raw and bleeding.
"There are a couple of ambulances outside. You and Frankie both, go get checked out. And that's an order." He watched them climb the stairs, then walked the extent of the room and looked into the room where his daughter was held. He said a silent grateful prayer that she was safe.
Outside, the road was filled with emergency vehicles with bright flashing lights. Officers were using the SWAT vehicle to ram the security gate open. A deputy waited to stretch yellow crime scene tape across the opening at the end of the driveway.
Lane held Frankie close to him as they walked toward the ambulances. As they neared the first vehicle, they overheard two EMTs talking. "This guy got very lucky. Guess he was holding his gun as he entered the woods. He tripped over a tree root and involuntarily pulled the trigger as he was going down. Looks like a through-and-through wound."
Once they were close enough, they noticed there were people inside the ambulance. A man was lying on a gurney as an EMT tended to him, a young woman with long blonde hair sat on another gurney next to him.
"Oh, my God. That's Jennifer!" Frankie ran to the ambulance and jumped inside. She pulled her cousin to her and stroked her hair. "I can't tell you how glad I am to see you."
"Me, too. I'm sorry about all of this, Frankie."
"Your dad and I were so worried about you. Seeing you here alive and healthy is such a blessing."
The EMT asked Frankie to get out of the ambulance so he'd have more room to help Paul who had an oxygen mask on his face and tubing in his arm leading to a bag of blood dangling overhead. Frankie kissed Jennifer on the cheek and got out of the vehicle.
Paul reached for Jennifer's hand and squeezed. "Jennifer, I'm the one who should be sorry. If I'd been the man I should've been when you told me you were having my baby, none of this would have happened. I just hope you'll let me make everything up to you and the baby."
Paul was interrupted with the news they needed to leave for the hospital.
"Are you going with us?" The EMT directed the question to Jennifer.
"Please stay with me, Jennifer," begged Paul.
"I'll see you at the hospital, Paul. I need some time with my dad."
Lane was waiting for Frankie at the second ambulance, his wrists already treated and wrapped in gauze and white tape. He noticed the blood was spreading across the front of her white tank as she rounded the corner of the open vehicle door.
"Holy shit, Frankie. Come here." He lifted her shirt to reveal the long cut on her midsection was missing several butterfly bandages and some sections were bleeding profusely. He shouted for an EMT. One came running and helped Lane get Frankie into the ambulance and on a gurney.
The EMT took one look at Frankie and said, "Didn't I just treat you? Weren't you the one driving that red Mazda Miata that flipped over in the ditch?"
"Great memory. Just fix me up. And one more thing — I'm not going to the hospital."
Lane waited outside the ambulance and watched as two members of the SWAT Team hauled David and Dr. Caine to waiting patrol cars. Though it was the end of a chapter, it was not the end of their work.
Everyone knew how thorough Michael Brandt was when he prepared a prosecution case. Every single piece of evidence must align until he had a slam dunk. That meant Lane would have to make sure Michael had all he needed to put these two away. More evidence to support the baby trafficking charge against the doctor would have to be found. He prayed that the forensic evidence that was collected from the two crime scenes would nail David Chambers. That guy was too dangerous to be roaming this earth.
He heard arguing inside the ambulance, and stepped back to have a look.
"Are you nuts? I don't care what kind of a bad-ass cop you think you are, you need stitches and you're going to the hospital!"
"No, I'm not." Frankie said as she climbed out of the vehicle.
"I've got this," said Lane as he scooped her up in his arms, noticing how she grimaced and bit her lip. Typically, she was in pain but wanted no one to know about it.
As he headed across the yard, he shouted at the cop who'd just put David Chambers in the back of his car. "Hey, that perp has my car keys."
"I've got them." The cop pulled the keys out of his pocket and ran to hand them to Lane.
Lane carried Frankie inside the garage and deposited her on the passenger seat of his black Cadillac Escalade. He rounded the SUV and popped into the driver's seat and turned his key in the ignition. He watched in his rearview mirror as the two police officers turned their cars around, and then headed down the driveway. He backed out and turned his vehicle around, too.
"You're quiet, Frankie. What are you thinking?"
"I'm thinking how good it will be to get home."
Lane grinned as he drove down the driveway, and then turned left and headed toward the hospital.
Jennifer waited in her dad's car as he tied up some loose ends. She wondered how she would explain everything that had happened. If there was anyone she owed an explanation to, it was her dad. She felt a kick and smiled. The baby was moving again. Or maybe, she thought, the baby was communicating to her, so she spoke out loud.
"Sweetie, you're staying with your mom. After all we've been through; I could never give you up. Your mom is much stronger than she thought she was when this misadventure began. She knows that no matter what, she's going to protect you, love you, and give you the best home she can. That's a promise."
Jennifer heard the twist of the door handle then saw her father get into the car. As soon as he sat down, she said, "Dad, we need to talk."
"Yes, we do."
She reached across the console and pulled her father's hand until it was stretched flat against her baby bump. She felt the baby kick again and so did her father. Quick tears glistened in his eyes.
"There's plenty of room in our big old house for you and the baby. What your mother wouldn't give to fill that place up again. It'd be a wonderful place to raise a child, Jennifer. Please tell me you don't still plan to give it away."
"No chance, Dad." She squeezed his hand and lifted it to her lips. "No chance."
"Why did you go to such lengths to hide your pregnancy from us? As parents, what did we do wrong?"
"You and Mom did nothing wrong. I want you to be proud of me, Dad. Getting pregnant like I did brought shame to our family. You are such a public person and you've worked so hard to get to where you are in your career. I didn't want my mistake to hurt you." Her heart squeezed as she felt her dad tighten his grip on her hand.
"Jennifer, don't you know I've been proud of you since the day you were born? The public person people are going to see in our county is a sheriff who is so damn proud to have a wonderful daughter and brand-new grandchild that he can't stop boasting about either of them."
"I love you, Dad."
"Love you, too. Don't ever forget it." He pulled his daughter to him and kissed her forehead. "It's going to be a long night at the police station making statements. I'll drive there and you take the car so you can rest in my hotel room until I get there."
"I think I'll drive to the hospital to see Paul first."
By the time she got to Paul's room in the hospital, his wound had been treated and he was sitting up watching television. As soon as he noticed her in the doorway, he flipped off the TV.
Jennifer eased into the room and sat in a chair next to his bed. She felt awkward in his presence. Scenes of their last night together flashed through her mind. He was staring at her and she had to say something. "What did the doctors say?"
"They said the bullet went clear through and didn't hit anything important so I'll be fine."
"That's good."
"Jennifer, I am so sorry for the way I acted the night you told me you were pregnant. Please forgive me."
"Honestly, I don't know if I can do that." It was the truth. She couldn't forget that he wanted her to kill their baby.<
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"Marry me, Jennifer. We can fly to Vegas. Let's leave tomorrow and get married."
"Yeah, that will solve everything. Let's run off and get married because I'm pregnant."
"I'm not looking at it like that."
"Yes, you are. The topic wouldn't have come up if I wasn't pregnant. You've had two years to ask me to marry you, but you didn't. You barely had time for me with all the football practices and games."