Every Precious Thing lh-2

by Brett Battles

  “Do you all not get it? There is only one person in this house the people who just got here want alive, and it’s not any of you, or me.” He glanced at Emily, then scanned the others. “Get the hell out of here now!”

  They started to move. Even Rachel’s husband seemed shaken enough not to put up a fight.

  Logan returned his attention to the street. The car was only one house away now, angling for a section of the curb directly behind the car Logan and the others had arrived in. As soon as it parked, its lights went out, but the doors remained closed.

  Logan looked down the street, wondering if they might be waiting for reinforcements, but, as of now, there were no other cars heading this way.

  He heard one of the sedan’s doors open, and looked back at it.

  Not one door, but two. Dr. Paskota exited the front passenger side, while one of her goons climbed out of the backseat. Logan could see three shadowy forms still inside-Alan and Harp in the back, and a final man still behind the wheel.

  Logan clearly saw what he needed to do. Divide and conquer.

  He stepped over to the front door. Leaving the deadbolt undone, he turned the knob lock just enough so that it was partially engaged, then looked through the peephole to be sure the woman and her friend were definitely heading his way.

  They were.

  Logan moved quietly through the house, with Reggie lumbering slowly behind him.

  “Scoot, scoot,” he said to the dog, pushing him through the open sliding glass door, and following right behind.

  As soon as they were outside, he shut the door and took a quick look at the back fence. Richard was trying to help Kurt get over the wall, but it was obviously a struggle. The others were gone.

  “You guys need to hurry,” Logan whispered. He patted Reggie on the head. “Come on.”

  With a hand on the dog’s collar, he guided Reggie along the back of the house into his pen, and closed the wire gate.

  “Be a good boy and stay quiet, okay?”

  Reggie licked his hand and chuffed once.

  “No, no. Quiet,” Logan said, holding his finger to his mouth.

  This time the dog sat down.

  “Good boy. We’ll be back for you soon.”

  Hoping he was right, he stepped to the fence and eased himself over the top.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY — THREE

  As Harp watched the woman and Clausen walk across the street toward the house, he’d never felt so hopeless and frustrated in his life. There had to be something he could do. If they could just overpower the guy who’d been left with them-Clausen called him Markle-then maybe they could get help, but he wouldn’t be able to do that alone, and Alan was barely holding it together. He kept looking at the house, then out the front window, then back at the house, his hands shaking as if he were freezing to death.

  Paskota and Clausen were at the door of the house now. The place was dark. Harp hoped that meant no one was home, but knew it was just as likely whoever lived there had gone to bed early. He couldn’t hear if they knocked or not, but after a few moments, the door eased open, and they stepped inside.

  Harp turned his head just enough so he could see out the back window. No cars coming. Not that he would have known what to do even if one headed their way.

  He gave Alan a nudge and smiled, trying to convey that it would all be okay. Alan wasn’t buying it. Quite frankly, Harp wouldn’t have, either, in his shoes.

  For God’s sake, there had to be something he could do. Anything. He must-

  The driver’s door flew open. As Markle turned, a hand reached in, grabbed his arm, and yanked him outside.

  Something metallic clattered to the ground, then-

  Swack. Swack.

  Swack.

  Alan looked at Harp, his eyes wide. Harp couldn’t see his own face, but knew he was wearing a similar expression.

  Something scraped along the road, rounding the car.

  Then silence.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY — FOUR

  Logan knew he couldn’t count on Dr. Paskota and the man with her staying in the house for more than two minutes.

  Keeping as close to the neighboring home as possible, he jogged to the sidewalk, went down a couple of houses before crossing the street, and worked his way back to the car his father and Alan were being held in.

  He was only one house away when the shadow of a man passed around the back of the car and walked up to the driver’s door.

  Logan ducked down, thinking that the reinforcements he’d worried about had arrived.

  Then suddenly the shadow pulled the door open and hauled out the man sitting behind the wheel. The driver’s arms flailed as he tried to bring his gun around, but his assailant wrenched it away and tossed it to the ground.

  Two quick punches, then a third, and the driver slumped motionless on the asphalt. The shadow immediately grabbed the guy by the shoulders and hauled him around the back of the car. As he yanked him up onto the grass that lined the curb, a second shadow peeled away from the hedge in front of the nearby house and joined him.

  Kneeling beside the unconscious man, the face of one of the shadows moved into the bit of dome light filtering through the car’s window.

  Dev.

  Logan extracted himself from his hiding place, ran out and picked up the suppressor-enhanced gun off the street.

  As he joined the others at the curb, Dev looked at him and smiled. “Figured that was you,” he whispered.

  “Hey, Logan.” The second shadow was Pep.

  “Where’d you guys come from?” he asked.

  “Found them parked just up the street around the corner,” Dev whispered. “Thought we’d take advantage of the other two going inside. Guess you had the same idea. Where’s everyone else?”

  “Safe,” Logan said. “I hope.”

  “Is this the son of a bitch who ambushed me?” Pep asked, looking down at the driver.

  “Um, we’ll have to talk about that later.” Logan looked at the car and saw that Harp and Alan were still inside, looking around nervously. “Didn’t you tell them to get out?”

  “I didn’t really have time to say anything,” Dev said.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY — FIVE

  Someone was approaching the car again. Harp had no idea what was going on, so he braced himself, preparing for the worst. The door next to Alan opened.

  “You guys just going to stay there? Or are you coming out?”

  It was Logan.

  Without another thought, Harp pushed Alan out the back and crawled out after him, pausing only long enough to pick up the copy of Lost Horizon that had been pushed partway under the front passenger seat. The book had gone to war, come home with Len, hung around for another sixty-plus years, and it had been damaged more in the last few days than in any of that time before. It hurt him to see it so, but he was glad to be holding it again.

  He was even gladder to see his son, and gave him a big hug.

  “Not a lot of time right now, Dad,” Logan said.

  Harp pulled back. “I thought you were still in Arizona.”

  Logan ushered both of them onto the sidewalk. “I heard the real action was in Simi Valley.”

  “Evening, Mr. Harper,” Pep said.

  “Hey, Harp,” Dev chimed in.

  “Dev. Pep,” Harp said, his surprise continuing. Then he noticed Markle’s body on the ground. “Is he dead?” He turned to his son. “Did you kill him?”

  “What makes you think I did it?” Logan asked. He pointed at Dev.

  “Still alive,” Dev said.

  Alan shook himself, his eyes refocusing. He looked at Logan and Harp, then turned and headed for the house.

  Logan reached out and grabbed him. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “They’re inside getting Emily. I’ve got to stop them.”

  “They may be inside, but they’re not getting Emily.”

  “What?”

  “She’s not there.”

  “Where is she?”


  “With your sister and Sara.”

  “Sara?” Alan all but shouted.

  “Quiet!” Logan said. He pointed up the street. “I need you two to go get Barney. He’s in Dev’s Jeep around the corner. Dad, when you get there, call Callie. Tell her to call the Simi Valley Police and that FBI contact of hers she mentioned when she told us about Alan. Get them here now. Once you’ve done that, come back here and the three of you watch this guy. I don’t want him wandering off. But be careful. Don’t let anyone else see you.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “What do you think?”

  Harp frowned but said nothing.

  “I’m coming with you,” Alan said.

  “No, you’re not. You’ll get us killed.”

  “I won’t.”

  “You will. Trust me. Now get going!”

  Harp grabbed Alan by the arm. “Come on. They know what they’re doing.”

  Alan didn’t look happy, but he finally allowed himself to be led away.

  When they reached the corner, Harp looked back. Logan and the others were gone.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY — SIX

  Erica watched as Clausen pulled out a set of lock picks and set to work on the door.

  “Forgot to lock their deadbolt,” Clausen whispered with a smile. He worked the bottom lock for a few seconds before it gave in. “Too much faith in crappy hardware.”

  He eased open the door wide enough for them to enter, then drew his gun and stepped inside. Erica followed.

  There was a smell in the air, something musty, but not old. Like a…dog. Yes, that was it. The smell of a dog. That could be a problem. If the animal sensed their presence, it could start barking and expose them, making their job harder. Erica put a hand on Clausen’s back.

  “Hold on,” she mouthed.

  They held their position for half a minute, but the sound of claws running across the floor never materialized. With any luck, the dog was asleep in one of the bedrooms, or, God willing, outside.

  They did quick checks of the living room, kitchen, and family room, noting dishes in the sink from a meal eaten not too long ago. Of special interest was the child’s sippy cup. It wasn’t proof that the girl was still here, but in Erica’s mind, there was no doubt now that this was where she had been hiding.

  They approached the hallway that led to the bedrooms, stopping just outside it to listen.

  All quiet. Too quiet.

  Was no one at home? Where would they have gone? They’d obviously eaten dinner here, and if they were at all responsible, they wouldn’t be out too late with a two-year-old.

  She looked into the hallway. It had a hardwood floor, partially covered by a carpet runner down the middle. The hall veered to the left, then made a ninety-degree right turn, disappearing from view. The only door visible led to a bathroom a few feet down.

  Stepping all the way onto the runner, she carefully transferred her weight to minimize any sound of creaking floorboards. She repeated the process step by step down the hallway and around the corner.

  There were three doors along the new section. When she reached the first, she looked in. Bedroom. It looked like a boy’s room, though clean and tidy, as if the kid who used it hadn’t been home for a while.

  The bedroom at the end of the hall was clearly the master. Even the small portion Erica could see was nearly twice as wide as the room she’d just checked. If the girl was here, her bet was that she was in the room across the hall and down a little ways from where Erica was standing.

  She motioned for Clausen to check the master while she checked the other room. With a nod, he moved past her down the hall.

  The curtains of the last bedroom were closed, so as Erica walked in, it was hard to see much of anything. She activated the screen of her phone and swept it across the room like a flashlight.

  There was a bed, a dresser, and some toys on the floor. Though the bed was unoccupied, its covers were pulled back. It was apparent from how the blankets were disturbed that whoever had been in the bed had not been very tall. A toddler, at best.

  She put her hand on the sheet covering the mattress. Warm, but it was a warm night, so that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

  Clausen appeared in the doorway. “Empty,” he said, not bothering to even whisper. “No one’s home.”

  “Then where the hell are they?” she asked.

  “Movies, maybe. Out to dinner.”

  “They had dinner.” Erica checked her watch. It was going on eight thirty. “And I doubt they would have taken a kid that age out to a movie at this time of night.”

  Clausen shrugged. “Maybe they just went for some ice cream or something.”

  “Maybe.” Wherever they’d gone, she was confident they’d return soon. “We’ll wait.”

  Though the ultimate satisfaction of closing this problem was delayed, Erica was actually feeling pretty good. The girl was close. Soon she’d have possession of her, and it would all be over.

  “Go get Markle and our guests, and bring them in,” she ordered. “We can tie up the two and lock them in the hallway bathroom for now.”

  If I can think of a way to stage it, maybe we could even get rid of them here.

  As Clausen started to turn down the hallway, there was thud in the backyard, followed almost instantly by a low groan and what sounded like a hushed voice.

  “Wait,” Erica whispered.

  She went to the window and carefully moved the curtain just enough so she could see out, but spotted nothing unusual.

  “The dog?” Clausen suggested.

  If it had only been the thud and the groan, perhaps, but Erica was sure she’d heard a human voice, too.

  She let the curtain fall back into place. “We need to check.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY — SEVEN

  “Harp!” Barney jumped out of the Jeep as Harp and Alan walked up.

  Barney held out his hand, but Harp, being in a hugging mood, wrapped his arms around his old friend.

  “I…wasn’t sure we’d see you again,” Barney said once they’d separated.

  “Yeah. I wasn’t sure you would, either,” Harp confessed.

  “What happened? How did they get you?”

  “I’ll tell you in a minute. I need your phone first.”

  “Uh, sure.” Barney ducked back in and retrieved his cell from the car.

  Before he could hand it over, Harp said, “You have Callie’s number, right?”

  “Yeah. Is that who you want to call?”

  Harp nodded.

  Barney fiddled with the buttons for a moment, then gave the phone to Harp. “It’s ringing.”

  Harp listened as it rang for a second time.

  “Hello?”

  “Callie? It’s Harp.”

  She drew in a quick breath. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m with Barney now.”

  “And Logan?”

  “I saw him a minute ago.”

  “So what’s happening?”

  “Logan wanted me to tell you to call the police and your friend at the FBI, and have them get here as quickly as they can.”

  “All right,” she said quickly.

  “Wait!”

  “What is it?”

  “You might want to send an ambulance, too.” At the very least, they’d need it for the jerk on the curb, but he thought it best to be prepared for the worst.

  “Oh, God,” Callie said, and clicked off.

  “What was that all about?” Barney asked.

  “Come on,” Harp said, handing the phone back to Barney. “The three of us have something to do.” He turned to include Alan in the conversation, but Alan wasn’t there. “Where’d he go?”

  Barney looked around. “I don’t know. He was here just a moment ago.”

  “Alan?” Harp called out as loudly as he dared.

  No answer.

  “Maybe he went back to the other car,” Harp said. “That’s where we’re supposed to go.” He took a step toward the curb, then
stopped and looked back. “I want to get something out of the back of the Jeep first.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY — EIGHT

  Now that Harp and Alan were free, and Emily was out of harm’s way, Logan’s only goal was to keep Dr. Paskota and the man with her at the house until the authorities arrived-something he knew would be a hell of a lot easier said than done.

  If it hadn’t happened already, the doctor would soon discover no one was home. Once that happened, there were two possibilities-either she would stay in the house and wait, thinking that Rachel and Kurt would return with Emily soon, or she would leave.

  If it was the first, great; there was little Logan would have to do. So he concentrated on the second possibility. Better to be prepared than not.

  The choke point was the front door. That was the way they’d gone in, and the most logical way they’d come out. So the primary goal would be to keep her from using it.

  “Set up in the bushes on either side of the porch,” Logan whispered to Dev and Pep as they ran across the street. “If they try to leave, you make sure they understand that’s not an option. I’ll find a spot in the backyard to make sure they don’t go out that way, either.”

  Logan handed Dev his own gun, keeping the one with the suppressor for himself.

  He looked at Pep. “Sorry, I only have the two.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get ’em if they run.”

  Logan hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Pep might have been mentally prepared to chase the others down, but his broken ribs would have something to say about it.

  They crossed the lawn and paused just shy of the porch.

  “The idea is not to kill them, but to detain,” Logan whispered.

  “At all costs? Or only if possible?” Dev asked.

  “If possible. I’m going to-”

  A muffled thup-thup came from either the other side of the front door or beyond the house. Though it was difficult to pinpoint, it was a sound Logan had heard before-bullets passing through a silencer. Two, in this case.