The Shadow: Someone is Watching (Rahab's Rope Series Book 1)

by Kimberly Rae

  You already accomplished that. She closed her eyes. God, help me! I don’t know what to do.

  “Meagan,” he whispered, saying her name again and again until she opened her eyes and looked at him through the mirror. His smile was a clown-like contortion with his pink lipstick and white powdered cheeks. “We’ll be together, and everything will be wonderful.”

  She looked him in the eye. The man. The murderer. “I don’t want to go with you.”

  “They make you say things you don’t mean.” He reached up and touched her hair. She flinched. Angry fire blazed in his eyes and she forced herself to remain still as his hand ran down her head and across to her shoulder. “That’s why we have to leave right now. I’m taking you away from them. You belong with me. Everything will be all right.”

  She heard a shout. Her name. Lucias’s hand on her shoulder clamped hard and he quickly covered her mouth with his other hand to stop her from crying out. Her breathing came in quick gasps that left her lightheaded.

  Cole’s strong voice, loud and filled with fear, called her name again. “If you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in there!”

  Lucias held her tight in his grip and turned to several women emerging from the stalls. Two more stood at sinks a few yards away. “If you don’t want to die a terrible death,” he said with eerie, articulate calm. “You will leave right now. I know it will be hard to go without washing your hands, but I assure you...” He stepped forward, his hand still tight over Meagan’s mouth. The women stared as if mesmerized. A toilet flushed and another woman emerged. Her eyes went wide and she gasped. “Being a little dirty is much better than being a bloody heap of torn flesh on this hard tile floor.” He stood very still and said, “Go. Now.”

  They ran. Lucias released his grip. Meagan leaned against the wall and wrapped her arms around herself.

  Lucias spoke to her. “You know what you have to do. Go ahead, Meagan. Obey me.” He touched her hair again. “The bomb is under his car, waiting for him to chase after you. And don’t try to warn him about it. I also have something special set up where his sister lives, in that nice little place where she hides. There’s a third at your red-haired friend’s house. It’s outside, but their house is small, and I’ve got it on a motion sensor so it won’t be wasted. It won’t go off until someone opens the front door.”

  His smile spread wide and revealed lipstick on two of his teeth. He adjusted his wig and hat, took a look in the mirror, and held up a small makeshift device, saying to his reflection, “Everything can be controlled wirelessly these days, Agatha. Just the push of a button, even from so far away, and I can set the motion sensor on one, the ignition trigger on another, or make all of them blow up, just like that.”

  Cole’s voice rang out a third time. “Meagan, are you in there?”

  Lucias turned and ran his free hand over and down her head again, like he was petting a cat. “If you don’t want them all to die, Meagan, you have to keep me happy.”

  “I’m here,” she called out, her voice emitting her despair. “With Lucias.”

  65

  Thursday, January 8

  9:12 a.m.

  Cole had not felt such helpless fury since the day he’d found Sadie huddled behind a dumpster, her skinny exposed legs lined with scars from razor blades, her paper-thin arms layered with bruises from heroin addiction. “Meagan, tell Lucias I want to talk with him. Ask him to come out.”

  Her voice trembled and he switched his gun from his right hand to his left so he could clench his right hand into a fist, ready to break Lucias’ nose with a hard punch the moment his face came into view.

  “Cole.” Her voice came with an echo now that the bathroom was mostly empty. “Answer your phone.”

  It rang and he holstered his gun but left his jacket open so he could retrieve it at a moment’s notice. “Meagan?” he said the second he put the phone to his ear. “Are you okay? Has he hurt you?”

  “Listen to me, please,” she said. He thought he could hear Lucias breathing in the background and pressed his fist against the wall until he felt physical pain. “You have to do what I say. Don’t ask questions. Go at least thirty steps away from the bathroom.”

  “No. Meagan, I should never have left you in the first place. That hot chocolate this morning; it had something in it. This was all his plan. I’m not moving one foot from—”

  “Cole, please.” This time there were tears in her voice and he was aware that his throat ached, and his hand, and his shoulder. The worse ache was behind his sternum and to the left. “Please just do it,” she pleaded. “Please.”

  Tense, reluctant, he stepped backwards once, twice, three times, unmindful of the people who had to move out of his way. “I’m walking, Meagan. I’m going to hang up so I can call Steve and tell him our location.”

  “No, don’t! That’s why he’s making me call you, so you can’t call anyone else. You have to stay on the phone with me. Tell me when you’re close to the opposite wall.”

  He continued stepping backwards, not able to get his body to turn away from the bathroom, from her. Two security guards ran from his left toward the opening that led to the ladies room. Cole watched them try to assess the situation without alarming the crowd.

  “Cole,” Meagan said. “Are there FBI officers outside the bathroom?”

  “They’re airport security guards. Two of them. Meagan, if you walk out now, we could—”

  “Tell them they have to leave.”

  “Meagan, I—”

  He heard a struggle and a small gasp of pain. “Tell them!”

  Cole pulled out his security pass and motioned the guards over. He covered the speaker on his phone with his hand. With low and quiet tones he told them, “We have a hostage situation. The criminal is Lucias Moore. Hostage is—” His throat closed up and he had trouble speaking. “Meagan Winston.” He quickly gave the men Steve’s number. “Tell him where we are. Tell him—”

  She appeared in the doorway and Cole felt like every muscle in his body hardened to stone. Lucias stood behind her. What kind of weapon did he have? How had he gotten it through all the security checkpoints? If Cole charged forward with the two security guards, could they get him down? Not without risking Meagan’s life if he held a gun or a knife to her back.

  Cole could not see well enough. People filled the gap between them, only a few noticing the security guards. The rest pulled their suitcases or pushed strollers, on their way to or from one of the hundreds of flights that morning. He wouldn’t even have a straight path to her if he tried to run Lucias down.

  He put the phone back against his ear. “Meagan, what kind of weapon does he have? Is he holding it against your body?”

  “Don’t try to rescue me, Cole. And don’t let the security guards call Steve or anyone else. Tell them.”

  He turned slowly, hoping one of the guards would have made the call by the time he spoke. The one had his radio to his mouth. The other held out a map of the airport, a finger at their location. Please say it, Cole begged internally. Tell them where we are. “You have to stop the call,” he said, stretching each word. The men looked at him, then at each other, then at Meagan and Lucias in the open bathroom entrance. The man with the radio clicked a button and put it away. Cole turned his body and said through his teeth, “Do they know where we are?”

  He shook his head to the negative and Cole turned back to Meagan, his eyes stinging. “Tell me what to do, Meagan. What does he want? I’ll get it for him.”

  “He wants me.”

  Confusion flooded Cole when she stepped away from Lucias and walked toward him. Was Lucias letting her go? Behind her, he saw that Lucias had no weapon of any kind in his hand. His confident smile at Cole raised the hairs on Cole’s neck. If he didn’t have a weapon, the security guards could tackle him and Cole could pull Meagan safely away.

  He had thought of four possible scenarios, all with good endings, by the time she was close enough to speak to him without raising her voice. “Give
me your phone, Cole,” she said. Tear marks ran down her cheeks and Cole wanted desperately to pull her into his arms and run. He shook his head and reached for her hand. She pulled away. He glanced and saw Lucias, in his off-kilter red wig and veiled hat. Lucias clenched his fists and stomped his foot. His eyes were full of hate, but Cole could not have cared less. He reached for Meagan’s hand again and would not let go. “Come stand behind me, Meagan. We’ll send the guards to take him down. Even if he runs, we’ll alert the entire security personnel team and have guards at every exit and every—”

  “Cole, stop,” she said. “Let go of my hand.”

  “No. I’m getting you out of here.”

  “You can’t.” New tears fell and the ache in his chest turned into a deep, sharp stab. “Cole, please listen to me. His weapon isn’t here. He’s got a remote. One is in his hands, but he has another one somewhere else. They’re all already set. Even if you could capture him before he pushed the button, he’s the only one who can deactivate the timers and the motion sensors. Don’t you see?”

  “No, Meagan, I don’t. What are already set?”

  “The bombs.”

  Bombs. He felt it, the flashback wanting to come, and forced his lungs to breathe, to not allow the memory or the fear override his ability to think. He had to be able to think right now. Meagan needed him. “What kind of bombs and where are they set?”

  “He won’t let me tell you, but Cole, you have to trust me that too many lives are at stake. Lives of people we love.” Her eyes were speaking but he could not read the message. Who could she mean? The list of people he loved was very short. He felt the blood drain from his face. She saw and nodded. Her tears ran freely and she did not wipe them away. “We have to do everything he says,” she whispered. “It’s the only way. Maybe after he takes me away, maybe if he gets bored with me, he’ll let me go.”

  He could see she did not believe that any more than he did. He looked at Lucias, who leaned casually against the far wall, knowing they all were puppets in his new game. “Meagan, I can’t let you go with him. I can’t.”

  “You have to.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “I would never be able to live with myself if other people’s lives were lost to save mine. Don’t you understand?”

  He did, but hated it with every tightened muscle he had. “Meagan...” There was nothing left to be said, and yet everything to say. “Meagan,” he said again, his voice husky and raw. How could he let her go?

  She took his phone from his hand, then held her hand out for the security guards’ radios. They looked to Cole and he had to nod his head. They gave up their equipment and Meagan turned to Cole again. “Set your watch for five minutes.” He did. “You have to promise you will wait right here until those five minutes are up. You can’t contact Steve or anyone else. He says he’ll know if you borrow someone’s phone.” She wiped at her eyes with her arm, her hands full with the radios and both of their phones. “I doubt he’s telling the truth, but we can’t risk it. Promise me?”

  Saying those two words was the hardest thing he had ever had to do. “I promise.”

  Lucias called her name and she shut her eyes tight. “Pray for me,” she whispered. She turned without opening them, but then looked back for a fleeting moment.

  He could not fight the pain. Her eyes said goodbye.

  66

  Thursday, January 8

  9:18 a.m.

  Steve paced on the sidewalk, ignoring arriving passengers unloading baggage from their trunks and casting irritated glances at him. A man walked his way with a contained gait that brought Steve rushing to his side. “You know something.”

  The man nodded. He was not in a security uniform, but the way the guards nearby came alert at his presence, Steve guessed him to be top-level staff. “We’ve had a situation reported by several women who were in a bathroom when a man wearing a wig told them to get out or he’d kill them. The man had his hand on a woman’s mouth. The woman was described as tall, thin, with short hair. Another report came in about a man in a suit carrying a gun. Same location.”

  “That’s got to be them.” Steve gestured Quinn over. “Where are they?”

  “The incident took place in Terminal A at the restroom between gates eight and nine. We’ve called security in that section and have had no response. We’re sending three new teams there now.”

  Quinn joined them. “I’ve called Cole’s number five times. No answer.”

  “What about Meagan’s?”

  “The same.”

  Steve addressed the man again. “Has your team been alerted to the situation?”

  “Not yet. We need to be careful. This airport runs over two hundred and fifty thousand people through every day and that’s just passengers. The last thing we want is widespread panic, which is what would happen if word of this spreads.”

  “Evacuate them.”

  The man shook his head. “That would play into his hands. There’d be no easier way to sneak through than being in the middle of a crowd of thousands of people running for their lives.”

  “He has a good point.” Quinn made another call, waited, then closed his phone. “Still no answer.”

  Steve paced again. For the first time in his memory, he had no plan. “So what do we do?”

  “We wait for the three teams to get to the location and send us a report, then we go from there.”

  “Wait?” He stopped and stood, but could only maintain the position for four seconds. He turned to pace again. “That’s it?”

  “You could pray if you’re the praying type.”

  Steve thought about that. “I’m not, but I know someone who is.” He swiped his phone and waited for an answer. “Hey, Stephanie. I need you to call Meagan’s friend, Kelsey.”

  __________________________

  Thursday, January 8

  9:21 a.m.

  Meagan kept her eyes closed and prayed through their shuttle ride from the terminal to the main area that held baggage claim and led to the parking decks. When the doors opened, Lucias nudged her forward. They stepped outside and he put his arm out, bent at the elbow. “Take my arm, Meagan,” he said. “I don’t want you getting lost.” She fought nausea at the idea of touching him but put her arm through his. “See,” he said with a smile. “I’m a gentleman.”

  He led her toward the escalators. Both the up and down were packed with people. They shared a stair and Meagan pretended to trip so she could grasp the moving rail with both hands. At the top he put his arm out again and she knew it was folly to refuse him.

  “Um, Lucias?”

  “I’m Agatha, sweetie,” he said. Then he stopped in the middle of the open way, where people were greeting new arrivals or saying goodbye to departing friends and family. “No, Agatha,” he said in a mild voice. “You need to go now. She’s with me, not you.”

  A chill ran down Meagan’s spine. She stared, along with a few others, as Lucias yanked off his hat and wig and threw them to the ground. He turned and smiled at her, his light hair flat and damp against his head, an inch of skin at the top of his forehead pale in comparison to the caked-on makeup covering the rest of his face. His lipstick had not worn off, and his appearance there in his bulky dress and cloppy old-lady shoes drew attention. Meagan wanted to pray that people would remember them so when Cole caught up they could tell him where they went, but she knew such a prayer was wrong. At least three lives depended on her not being rescued from the man. God, help me be brave. You said there was no greater love than to lay down your life for your friends. I don’t think he wants to kill me, Lord, but what if he wants...?

  “I’m here, Meagan,” Lucias said, seemingly unaware both of the stares of those passing by or the reason for them. “I have been waiting for this day for a very long time. I feel so—” He stopped. “No, this is not the right place. It has never been the right place. We have to go somewhere else. Someplace beautiful and romantic and perfect. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  She chewed on the ins
ide of her cheek and nodded. Yes, she would like that, but only if it was with Cole. “Lucias,” she said with a hesitant touch on his arm. She pointed a few feet away. “I need to go to the bathroom again.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”

  “You can come with me. I’m not trying to run away.” How did one communicate with a madman? “Remember the hot chocolate you sent me this morning? You’re the reason I have to go. Remember? The hot chocolate worked. You picked something that worked very well.”

  His chest puffed out with pride. “I did, didn’t I? Okay, we’ll go together. Where’s Agatha?” He searched around and found the wig and hat on the floor. “Poor Agatha, I mistreat you sometimes, don’t I?” He put the wig and hat on and walked with Meagan into the restroom. He stood outside her stall and talked in a high voice about Lucias’ sad childhood and his neglectful mother. Meagan finished and washed her hands as he talked of Claudia, how she was not right for Lucias and he—or Agatha—had been worried about him.

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  “I’m not, not just yet.”

  Meagan could not decide whether to be horrified or disgusted as Lucias proceeded to have an argument with Agatha over who would get to walk her to the car. Lucias won and Agatha’s wig and hat ended up in the trash. He jerked two paper towels out of a dispenser, got them wet, and wiped them over his face, removing some of the makeup, smearing the rest. “I didn’t think to bring another outfit,” he said. “But that’s okay, isn’t it?” He smiled at her like an enamored boy. “Love goes beyond the way a person looks or what they wear.”

  Back in the main area, they walked together between baggage claim roundtables. Meagan found her fear growing as they neared the multiple sliding glass doors with red exit signs over them. Lucias chose one to the left side of the building. As they walked through, cold air enveloped them and Lucias shivered. “Agatha should have brought a coat,” he said, jumping up and down a few times. “She forgets things. I’ll talk with her about that.” He looked her over. “You don’t have a coat either. That’s not smart. You could get sick out in the cold.”