by Angi Morgan
Nothing riled him and made him lose control, especially when he was aware of the situation and was debating with himself. He’d taken too many hits over the years and never swung back.
Teenagers, cops, drunks. They’d all hit him and he’d never taken a swing at anyone except his brother. It couldn’t be the thought of Lindsey. In fact, his thoughts were different than the physical reaction his body was having.
“You drugged me.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. I gave you a natural something or other. Of course, I gave you much more than the vitamin store suggested. Are you feeling a little anxious? Is your chest getting tight?”
“You really are a freaking...madman.” Hyperventilating. He closed his mouth, breathing through his nose, attempting to slow down the racing in his body. “Why are you...you trying to...”
“Trying to kill you? Why would you think that? You’re the most fun I’ve had in two decades.” He leaned forward to pop his briefcase open and pulled out a card. “You might go into cardiac arrest and these oafs might not be able to revive you. I would hate that. Such a disappointment since I’m looking forward to the climax of our story.”
Even telling himself not to, Brian strained at his handcuffs without getting any closer to his target. At this rate he might break his wrists. His pulse pounded in his head, the veins in his arms popped to the surface, he felt his head rocking and couldn’t stop.
The lawyer, murderer, serial killer leaned forward and slid the card down his shirt. The four corners made his skin itch on the way down.
“Don’t disappoint me. You might have been clumsy enough to get caught, but I’m smart enough to get you free.” He shut the briefcase. “That is, if you really want to end this venture and you’re willing to do whatever it takes to save your little Lindsey.”
Brian tried to call for help. It was a weak attempt. He swallowed air, not spit. Mouth too dry. Whatever this maniac had given him, it was fast and hitting all his senses. He finally croaked out, “Guard.”
“We’re finished for now. We should be able to tidy up loose ends soon. I’m ready to be done with this cat-and-mouse game and move on to something new.”
The tightness this brute mentioned felt like a stampede on his torso. His jaw clenched tighter with each breath. The amount of restraint it took to keep from reaching up, grasping this killer’s neck and snapping it...was only surpassed by the pain growing across his chest.
“You need to remember this, Brian. Do you think you can? Your car’s waiting for you at the E.R. Clever of you to drive Mabel’s. I’m going to collect Lindsey. I just happen to have a document assuring the court I’m her lawyer. I’ll convince them I should take her to her doctor. I can be very persuasive. We’ll be waiting. The card shows you where. Can you remember?” He tapped on the door. “Guard!”
Brian used his last bit of remaining strength to push forward, his hands jerking him to a stop inches above the table, he threw his shoulders from side to side, feeling as though he was about to explode. “You son of a... If you touch her...”
“Oh, I plan to, Brian. Many, many times.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Every inch of him hurt. Brian had been thrown from plenty of horses. Had the breath knocked from his lungs more times than he could remember. Broken his collarbone and his tailbone, but he’d never hurt like this before. He ached all the way through and his fingers were crossed it wouldn’t last long.
“Lindsey.” He had work to do.
He was in the Denton Regional Medical Center emergency room. He recognized the sounds and the room even through his blurred vision. He’d dropped off his sister-in-law plenty of times. Why was he—? He lifted his arm...handcuffed and in a hospital gown. His foggy memory mixed bits and pieces of scenes flashing between shards of pain.
Lindsey. Jail. Drugged. Serial killer. Pain. Nothing.
Either all those jumbled memories had actually happened or he’d been kicked in the head by one of his horses and was having a very realistic dream. Yeah, it had all happened. He could remember the taste of Lindsey’s skin, the face she’d made at the bitterness of Doris’s tea. His days and nights with her were very vivid.
Alicia walked into the room, her finger across her lips to caution him from speaking. He caught a glimpse of a uniform at his door. “We came as soon as your story broke on the news. They said you began having seizures while at the jail. And we’re both very lucky they haven’t changed my ID yet. I doubt the police would let your sister-in-law check on you.”
“God, please tell me you haven’t seen me naked. And if you have, lie.”
“Get a grip, brother-in-law. I see that exact body every day on John. But no, I just came on shift so I didn’t see anything. John’s in the parking lot.” She pumped up the pressure cuff already on his arm, looking over her shoulder toward the door.
“Have you heard from Lindsey? That bastard’s got her. I’ve got to get out of here. Fast.” He tried to sit up, but his head swam, turning the rest of the room to a blur. The metal handcuffs banged. His sister-in-law shushed him.
“Hold on, buster, you aren’t going anywhere. You’re a very sick puppy.”
“He drugged me.”
“Are you stating or asking?” She flipped his chart to where he should have been able to read it. “They pumped your stomach. Juanita was on duty and called us when you were brought in. She said it was a little touch and go. Your heart nearly stopped, Brian.”
The writing was blurry. He couldn’t make out why they’d pumped him, but it explained why his voice sounded scratchy. “Alicia, get John in here. He’s going to kill Lindsey.”
“Are you still feverish? John’s not killing anyone,” she whispered, stuck a thermometer into his mouth and then wrote down his vitals.
“I’m dead serious, Alicia,” he mumbled around the stick under his tongue. “I need John. The freak didn’t tell me his name. He’s a lawyer or faking at being a lawyer. But we found out he’s working some kind of scam stealing mineral rights when properties are sold. He drugged our drinks in the middle of the freakin’ squad room.”
She removed the thermometer and disposed of the covering. “Calm down. You aren’t making sense.”
“Just call John. I need him to wait this one out for me.”
“What are you suggesting? You know he’s better trained to find this lawyer. Did you consider just telling him? You want him to go to jail for you?”
He tried not to be angry. He wanted to say the words that hung between them. How many times had he gone to jail because John left and their small town blamed him for Mrs. Cook’s death? He didn’t. They hung there until she pulled her cell, talked, hung up and then took his IV out.
“You’re going to have a horrible headache. Can you even see straight?”
“Straight enough.” He’d be lucky to see a hundred feet in front of the car, but he had no choice.
“I suppose you’ll need my keys.”
“Mabel’s car is out there.”
“How do you know? Oh, gosh, I don’t want to know that answer, do I? How are you even going to find this killer if you don’t know his name?”
Remember this, Brian. Can you remember? He’d put something scratchy down his shirt.
“Where’s my stuff? I think he dropped a business card in my clothes.” She shook his clothes. The T-shirt was ripped in half, his jeans looked just as bad. His Ropers were fine. He would take John’s clothes, but he preferred his boots that molded to his feet instead of John’s Justins.
Alicia tipped the second boot upside down and out fell a card.
“Victor D. Simmons, attorney at law. You didn’t imagine him, but it doesn’t mean he’s a lunatic who poisoned you. It could have been that woman with the tea.” She must have seen his confusion. “You called after leaving her house. John and I both tri
ed to talk you out of going to the county clerk, but no, you had to rush in. You’re as bad as your brother.”
She straightened the room, putting his clothes back in a bag, stowing them, swiping at a tear and trying to hide a sniff from the tears.
“Hey.” He bent his finger, gesturing for her to come back. “Sorry.”
“Lauren misses you and your dad sends his love even though he’s a stubborn Sloane man and just squeezed my shoulder.” She smiled and her phone buzzed. “That’s John. Pretend to be asleep when I leave. I’ll get the officer to help me and John can get in here while he’s away from the door.”
She waved nervously and backed up, wheeling a crash cart behind her. She deliberately hit both sides of the cart on the frame. Brian closed his eyes when the uniform moved to hold the door open. “Thank you, Officer. Could I borrow you just a sec? The wheels on this thing... Don’t worry about him. He’s sound asleep, will be for hours. We had to sedate him.”
The door swung gently shut. Behind his closed eyes, Brian saw his world spinning out of control. Alicia had been friends with him and John for a long time. She’d married his brother. He could forgive her for thinking he was crazy. The thing was, the jumbles in his brain had him thinking he was nuts.
“You were waiting outside?”
“You have to ask? Alicia filled me in. Why would a murderer risk walking into a police station and drug two people?” John asked, already working on picking the lock on the second handcuff. “It doesn’t make sense, man. Then hand you his card? It has to be a fake card.”
“Look him up. The cops seemed to think he was legit. He said he was my lawyer and waited until they verified who I was. I don’t know how he convinced them to talk to me. Or how he could just walk out of there with Lindsey. It was as if he was waiting on us at the courthouse. He even told me Mabel’s car had been moved here for my getaway.”
“He drugged you so you’d be delivered to the E.R. instead of transferred to Arlington for questioning. Pretty smart.”
“Smart or not, he’s got Lindsey and I need out of here so I can find her.”
“You going to be able to handle this? You were so out of it you didn’t know I’d come into the room or hear Alicia fill me in.” He finished and pulled his shirt over his head. “Are you even certain he has Lindsey?”
“If she’s not at the ranch, then yes, I’m sure.”
“Then find him before they lock me up, will ya?” John handed him his service weapon.
They switched clothes and John got on the gurney. “I hate to say this, but you’re going to have to put a needle in my arm.”
Brian found a clean IV needle in the drawer and stuck his brother’s vein on the first try. He adjusted the IV to the slowest drip possible.
“You’re pretty good at that. Ever think about becoming a doctor?” his brother asked.
“Not ever. I want to raise quarter horses.” The response was instinctive, not thought about, not debated. He wanted the ranch.
“We have a lot to talk about when this is all over.”
“Right. Now I need to concentrate on finding my girl.”
“You know I’d go for you,” he said, clapping a hand around his shoulder, smiling.
“I have to do this.”
“That’s what I thought. Do you know where to start?”
With a bandage over his forehead to cover the missing scar, the IV tape in exactly the same spot and handcuffed to the rail on either side of the bed, John looked exactly like Brian, with one exception—
“We forgot about the blasted hair. You cut yours.”
“You should have cut yours. Hell, Brian, they won’t notice with me just lying here. Alicia’s going to check on me. The shift changed from when you were admitted. She’ll cover. Just don’t leave me hanging, bro. So again, do you have a clue where to find this guy?”
“The bastard said to remember. I can start with his flippin’ business card.” He looked on the reverse side. “Or follow the map he conveniently left with me.”
* * *
LINDSEY HAD BEEN groggy for a long while. Sort of aware that she was moving and unable to react. Her eyes hadn’t opened fully since giving her statement to the police in Denton. She remembered that. Remembered Brian and...confusion.
She’d lost control, feeling more like a lump of flesh being directed, molded and fixed in place. She couldn’t see, barely could feel, but the fog was lifting.
How she’d gotten out of police custody wasn’t clear. Neither was what happened to Brian. She didn’t think he was with her. It didn’t seem as if he was with her.
Blindfolded. That was why she couldn’t see.
Someone was there; she’d heard the unidentified person breathing. The madman snickered a few feet in front of her. It had to be the man wanting to kill her. She didn’t know how she’d ended up in the paws of the monster. But she was there.
A flapping noise—maybe startled birds flying away.
Wrists tied with plastic rings, she could feel the edges biting into her skin. Her arms were stretched forward, bent but not high above her head. Her feet seemed to be free. A smooth surface was at her left hip, something like a wall.
No one was coming to her rescue except her.
She slid her hands a little and a rope rubbed against her fingers. That was how her hands were extended in the air. A rope tied around the plastic. She took a small step. Could she shift enough to remove the blindfold? Maybe there was enough slack if she moved forward.
She screamed as her right foot stepped into nothingness and she fell. The rope jerked the plastic into the flesh of her wrists, halting her descent a split second later. Dangling like a fish on a line, she stopped kicking her legs and lifted her feet back to the beam where she’d stood before. At least she wasn’t flaying around in midair.
A man’s laughter. The monster was watching.
“What do you want? My hands are cut and tied. You can’t possibly think this is going to look like an accident.”
Was he having fun?
When he didn’t answer, she strained, lifting her body weight until she could get both feet back on whatever she’d stood on before. Then she pulled on the taut rope, tugging until she was back where she started.
If there were birds... A beam, perhaps. An image of a high-rise under construction, workers walking on beams and steadying themselves on the beam above.
Was that where she was? High in the sky with no safety net? She didn’t hear traffic. She heard nothing except her blood rushing, frightened, through her veins. Then the snickering of the murderer laughing at her.
She couldn’t hang like this indefinitely.
With both her feet on the support—whatever it was—she held on for dear life and stretched her left toes until they pointed down. She had about six inches to stand on. What was at her hip? She gently kicked out, hitting something metal, a hollow sound like a chute of some sort.
“What do you want from me? Or from my family all these years?”
Even if she knew where she was or how to leave or any other small detail that may save her life, how could she get free? No, she was staying put, hands tied and already aching from pulling on the rope to keep her balance.
“Your Prince Charming will be here soon enough. That is, if he survived at all. Shame if he didn’t, I was looking forward to our battle.”
What was he talking about? Brian was in jail. She didn’t remember leaving the police station. Didn’t remember much after the initial interview at all. But they’d been in custody, she remembered that.
She also remembered the fright she’d felt at Jeremy’s house. Face-to-face with the creature who had carved that woman’s face off her. Then when she’d seen the knife coming toward her neck but slicing her arm.
The knowledge that she was on her own shot th
e same panic up her spine. She couldn’t depend on anyone but herself. No one else knew she was here or knew she was even missing. She wasn’t ready to die. She’d just found Brian and wasn’t about to give up on him. Or her own abilities.
Her arms and legs shook, partly from the stress but also from the drugs. She was already weak, but had to get herself free. But how could she, with that maniac watching and laughing at her efforts?
She turned her head toward the creaking of old wood on metal. She hadn’t heard him in a while, but she knew she wasn’t alone.
Sunshine reflected off something. She could see it around the edges of the cloth tied over her eyes. She held tighter, scooted forward until she could lift her shoulders one at a time and inch the blindfold to hang around her neck.
Her first look made her dizzy, and not just because her eyes had been closed for so long. She was a heck of a long way up in the rafters of an abandoned building. Three long flights of stairs. Rusted beams, ducts and pipes crisscrossed around her. If she fell, she’d die from blunt-force trauma from everything she’d hit on the way down.
Heights normally didn’t bother her. She’d been on waves taller than this. It must be the drugs still in her system, slowing her down and messing with her equilibrium.
With her arms in this position, it tugged at the stitches Brian had put in her arm. The strain from balancing and easing the pressure on her shoulders had started a definite trickle of sweat down her back. It felt like bugs crawling on her, which started her imagining all of the creatures that holed up in barns.
Including snakes. Hadn’t Brian talked about barn snakes in the rafters? Please, please, please...no snakes in these rafters.
“It’s very entertaining watching you discover your surroundings and trying to compensate. Good job, Lindsey.”
“Is this some kind of test?”
“Oh, no. We’re just having a little fun until Brian arrives.” He returned to a post just above her where the stairs turned.