Option to Kill (Nathan McBride 3)

by Andrew Peterson

  “Understood,” Harv said.

  “Ten minutes.”

  “You got it.”

  Nathan ended the call.

  “What does that mean?” Lauren asked.

  He lowered his voice and looked around for the black sedan. “I’ll tell you later. Do you have anything in your pockets? Anything electronic?”

  “No, just a piece of paper. My mom told me to take it from my stepdad’s office. It was hidden. She told me where to find it.”

  “Let me see it.”

  Nathan unfolded it and held it up in the bleed light from the streetlamps. Below a single name, a list of numbers stared back at him.

  “This was in your stepdad’s office?”

  “Yes.”

  “When did you take this?”

  She looked at the driver.

  “Last night?” he asked.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “After the forklift business?”

  She nodded.

  “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”

  “I don’t know. I forgot.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Do you have any idea what these numbers mean?”

  “No.”

  He studied it a moment longer and came to only the most rudimentary conclusions. The left column was arranged in ascending order, but the other three weren’t. The left-middle column ranged from eighty-five to ninety-five and didn’t seem to have any discernible pattern. The right-middle column started at fifty and increased in value, with one exception — the third row. And the fourth column’s parenthetical numbers looked completely random.

  “Where are we going?” Lauren asked.

  “My Clairemont house.”

  “Can we get something to eat first?”

  “Yes.”

  Nathan knew a break in conversation would give Lauren a chance to process some of tonight’s action. It had to be tearing her up. She’d seen a crazy amount of violence over the last twenty-four hours.

  He thought back to her abductor. The tone of his voice had given Nathan a chill — not an easy thing to do. The guy had sounded like embodied evil. The reference to partying with Lauren “all night long” couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than his intent to sexually assault her. That would fit at least part of the MO of a serial killer like the one who’d been murdering the girls. But serial killers tended to be careful control freaks, more prone to ambushes using overwhelming power than to public confrontation. What kind of serial killer would face down his victim and her protector? Much less bring along armed backup? No, this guy might be a sick creep, but he had a larger agenda than simply assaulting and killing Lauren.

  The cabbie drove the speed limit as he took the I-5 northbound onramp. Nathan checked again and didn’t see any sign of a tail. The closest vehicle was a white Nissan or Toyota, and there weren’t any dark sedans in sight.

  “Nobody is following us,” the driver said in English.

  “Where are you from?”

  “Lebanon.”

  “Is your family here?”

  “No, my wife and daughters are still there. They’re living with my parents. I’m saving money to bring them all over. It is very expensive.”

  “No doubt. I admire what you’re doing. I hope you’re reunited with them soon.”

  “I miss my girls. Your daughter’s very beautiful. She has your eyes.”

  “Thank you. That’s kind of you to say. Please take the Clairemont Drive exit and head east.”

  The driver nodded.

  If the driver’s compliment had embarrassed Lauren or made her feel uneasy, she didn’t show it.

  “There’s a grocery store about a mile off the freeway on the right,” Nathan said to Lauren. “We’ll grab a sandwich and some other stuff we might need.”

  “Can we get pastrami?”

  “Absolutely.”

  The cab pulled into the retail center, and Nathan asked him to park in the middle of the lot and wait — he didn’t want any other vehicles near their cab.

  “Give us five minutes,” he told the cabbie. “Would you like anything?”

  “Black coffee, please.”

  Nathan looked around the parking lot as they walked toward the entrance. “My house isn’t far from here. We’ll head over there next.” Thinking ahead, he’d ask their driver to drop them off several blocks away. He didn’t like the idea of taking the cab all the way to his front door. Nathan owned two homes in San Diego, one in Clairemont, where he spent the majority of his time, the other in La Jolla, where he’d received Lauren’s text. He felt more comfortable in the Clairemont residence’s low-key environment.

  The deli was closed, but they found a refrigerator with premade sandwiches and grabbed a pastrami. Lauren seemed rather subdued. The reality of her situation was probably sinking in. She had to be exhausted, mentally and physically. Overall, he had no complaints about her and again wondered how many kids her age would be as resilient. Before the cab driver had mentioned her eyes, Nathan hadn’t noticed the similarity to his own. But now, as he looked at her, he had to admit they did look eerily identical. He didn’t know how many people with Asian lineage had blue eyes but believed it to be extremely rare. He couldn’t recall seeing anyone like Lauren before, but if he had, he would’ve remembered. Without a doubt, Lauren was beautiful.

  As uncomfortable as the thought was, he had to consider the possibility that Lauren could be his daughter. The similarity of their eyes couldn’t be dismissed. He thought back thirteen years, trying to recall if he’d been with any Asian women, and came up blank. At that point in his life, he’d still been recovering from the botched mission that had resulted in his capture and subsequent torture. He hadn’t slept with any women during that turbulent time. In fact, he hadn’t slept much at all. He’d been heavily medicated, drifting in and out of chronic depression and despair. There was simply no way Lauren could be his. None. Besides, he didn’t think she was tall enough. He hadn’t been around many kids her age, but if she’d inherited half his genes, she ought to be taller.

  Figuring they needed more than just a sandwich, he went back to the registers and grabbed a handheld shopping basket. Lauren asked for an apple juice, saying it was her favorite drink.

  He thought back to her question at the Town & Country Resort Hotel: How does he know where we are? It seemed as though her abductor knew precisely where she was. A lucky guess? Not likely. The police scanner was the most reasonable explanation. The cop who followed them into the complex would’ve reported his location to dispatch, and the cop could’ve also said he was heading toward the front of the hotel where Nathan had spotted the sedan. The other possibility — an inside source — didn’t sit well with him. Lauren said she didn’t trust the police, maybe for good reason.

  But if her abductor had no law enforcement credentials, it seemed crazy for him to remain in the area with all the cops converging. Maybe if the guy was twisted enough, he’d risk hanging around to recapture Lauren — but with a life-threatening gunshot wound? Nathan had purposely avoided shooting the man’s femoral artery, but his destroyed quadriceps muscles had to be crippling. Yet the man persisted. Why was capturing or killing Lauren so important?

  The border murders. She’d seen the dead girl. But if her kidnapper was behind the murders, he could’ve killed her in seclusion when he came to her house. Did she know something he wanted? Did he plan to use her as leverage? Against whom? Her mom? Too many questions with no answers.

  When Lauren put the bottle of apple juice into the basket, he got a good look at her ring. It was really quite beautiful, with a heavy gold setting. It didn’t look like cosmetic jewelry, but hadn’t the stone been red inside Nordstrom? Now that he thought about it, he was certain it had shone bright red.

  “Lauren, wasn’t your ring red inside Nordstrom?”

  “It changes color.”

  “It changes from red to green?”

  “Yeah, it’s really cool. In the daytime it’s green, but sometimes it’s green inside,
like now, but mostly it’s red, like in my room.”

  “May I see it?”

  “My mom said I’m never supposed to take it off, but I guess it’s okay.”

  She handed it to him, and he took a closer look. It was an oval cut and looked to be about three carats in size. Nice quality. The setting was almost certainly fourteen-karat gold. “Follow me. We need to find an incandescent light.”

  “What kind of light?”

  “A regular light bulb.” He led her to the rear of the store and found the restrooms. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed no one was watching. Nathan nodded to the women’s restroom. “See if anyone’s in there and tell me what kind of lighting it is. Are there long fluorescent tubes, like out here, or regular light bulbs, like in your bedroom? Here, take your ring and tell me if it turns red in there.”

  She gave him a look.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be right here. You can hold the door open if you like.”

  She disappeared inside. A few seconds later, she came back out.

  “No one’s in there. It turned red.”

  “I want to see it.”

  “You’re going in the girls’ bathroom?”

  “Yeah, I do it all the time.” He held his hand out.

  She rolled her eyes and gave him the ring.

  “Be right back.”

  At the threshold of the women’s restroom, Nathan watched an amazing phenomenon occur: the ring seemed to sparkle with two different colors. Once inside, he examined it under the bulb over the sink. If this thing’s real, it’s worth a small fortune. This was one of the rarest gemstones in the world. Alexandrite. Green by day, red by night. Nathan was no expert but knew something of them. Last year, Harv had bought his wife alexandrite earrings, and they displayed nice color change — from bluish green to light purple — but they didn’t come close to the quality or pure spectral transition of this stone. This little beauty went from emerald green to bright pinkish red. Nathan didn’t know what it was worth, but he knew how to find out. No wonder Lauren’s mom didn’t want her taking it off.

  He left the restroom and gave her the ring. “It’s an alexandrite. If it’s real, it could cost as much as your stepdad’s Porsche.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Don’t lose it — you can cash it in for a college education someday.”

  “The man you shot tried to take it.”

  “Is that why he grabbed your wrist?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “It could be synthetic, but something tells me it’s real.” He looked at his watch. “We’d better get back to our cab.”

  Nathan paid for their items and led Lauren outside. The cab was still there. He assessed the parking lot’s lighting as they walked toward their ride.

  “Lauren, is there anything else you can tell me about your mom? Did she ever talk to you about her life before you were born?”

  “A little.”

  “Where was she born?”

  “Korea, I think.”

  “Where was she raised?”

  “In an orphanage. I think she had a pretty bad childhood.”

  “I can imagine.” Nathan looked at the cab. He’d forgotten the coffee. He was about to turn around when he noticed the driver had his head tilted down, but there was wasn’t any bleed light from a cell phone illuminating his face. Maybe the bill of his Chargers hat concealed it, but Nathan didn’t think so. Something rubbed him wrong. When they were twenty feet from the cab, the driver dipped his head lower, as if trying to hide his face. Why would he do that, unless —

  He dropped the grocery bag and shoved Lauren to his right, hard enough to send her sprawling. “Stay down!”

  The cab’s door flew open.

  Nathan pulled his SIG.

  A much taller man burst from the cab, crouched behind its open door, and pointed a handgun at him.

  Nathan sidestepped away from Lauren and toggled the SIG’s laser. He put the red dot on the man’s chest.

  His opponent fired first.

  Shit! The discharge’s flare ruined his vision, but at least the bullet missed. Aiming on pure instinct, Nathan double-tapped the trigger and simultaneously closed his eyes. The rapid reports hammered his ears and cracked off every building in the area. The cab’s window shattered.

  “Lauren, stay down!”

  Aiming lower, he sent a third bullet through the sheet metal.

  The man jerked but didn’t go down.

  Before the gunman could recover, Nathan sprinted forward, grabbed the man’s arm, and dislocated his shoulder with an upward thrust. His opponent grunted and dropped the weapon. Nathan drove his forehead into the man’s nose and felt cartilage collapse. He kicked the handgun aside and swept his leg, taking the gunman down. Nathan used the butt of his weapon on the gunman’s jaw and watched the man’s eyes roll up for a few seconds, before refocusing.

  Even though this guy was out of the fight, Nathan patted him down, confirming the presence of a ballistic vest. He didn’t find a wallet but felt the outline of a cell phone in the guy’s coat pocket. He’d take that before leaving.

  Tires screeched nearby. Nathan looked up, seeking the source. Fifty yards distant, a familiar black sedan barreled toward them.

  Nathan squared with the new threat and painted his laser onto the windshield.

  The vehicle braked to a sudden stop.

  For several seconds, nothing happened. The sedan just sat there, motionless.

  Nathan felt a malevolent presence again and knew it was the same man who’d taunted Lauren at the hotel. He squinted and kept the red dot glued on the windshield.

  Then, with measured precision, the sedan slowly backed away.

  Nathan wanted to shoot, but he knew a stray ricochet could injure or kill an innocent.

  “Lauren, form up!”

  “What?”

  “Come over here.”

  Blood streaming from his nose, the man at his feet moaned and tried to roll over. Nathan put a boot on the guy’s neck and applied half his weight. “I’ll crush your windpipe if you try anything cute.”

  “No hablo inglés.”

  Nathan repeated the threat in Spanish and refocused the laser back onto the windshield of the retreating sedan. The man at his feet wasn’t Hispanic. Like Lauren’s abductor, he had fair skin and dark hair and looked to be in his early forties.

  “Quien es su jefe?” Who is your boss? Nathan didn’t expect an answer and didn’t get one. “Dónde está el taxista?”

  “En el baúl.”

  “Muerto?”

  “No.”

  “Lauren, pop the trunk. The lever should be inside, on the lower left.” He nodded toward the cab’s interior.

  She gave the downed man a wide berth and reached inside.

  Nathan heard the trunk pop open. “See if the driver’s okay.”

  “His forehead is bleeding.”

  “Is he breathing?”

  “Yes, but his eyes are closed.”

  Nathan wanted to question the man at his feet, but he didn’t have time. Any doubts they were being tracked were now dispelled. The presence of the sedan at the hotel could be explained, but not here. Even if Lauren’s abductor had a police scanner, it wouldn’t have led him to this location. Could his phone be the culprit? He didn’t think so, but wasn’t sure.

  The black sedan stopped backing up and turned toward Clairemont Drive. Nathan glanced around the parking lot. Several people were watching from a distance. Time to go. He crouched down next to the gunman and told him to hold still. In a quick move, Nathan pistol-whipped him on the side of the head, rendering him unconscious. He didn’t know if Lauren’s abductor would return to get him, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He wasn’t willing to kill this man in cold blood, especially in front of Lauren.

  Nathan had no doubt that someone had already called 911. They needed to clear the area, but he had to deal with the tracking problem or they’d face this scenario again. The black sedan turned right onto Clairemont Drive
and accelerated away.

  “Lauren, take off your shoes.”

  She looked confused but did it.

  “Are you sure you don’t have anything in your pockets?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hold still. I’m going to pat you down. I think there’s a transmitter on you somewhere.”

  She reached up and removed her hair tie. “The man you shot gave this to me.”

  “When?”

  “When he picked me up at my house. He said not to take it off.”

  Nathan wanted to ask why she hadn’t bothered to mention this little morsel of information earlier, but knew that would only upset her. He examined the hair tie. About an inch in diameter, it was shaped like a disk and looked to be veneered in stained wood. The elastic cord was secured on the back with two small brackets. He set the hair tie on edge and struck it with the butt of his gun. It shattered into several pieces. In the dim light from the open door, he saw a broken microchip and a watch-type battery. He pursed his lips and looked up at Lauren, his expression guarded.

  “I didn’t know about that!”

  “Calm down. I didn’t say you did.”

  “You believe me, don’t you?”

  “Of course I believe you. I’m just glad we found it.” He stood up. “We’re going to clear this area as fast as we can. Stay with me, okay?”

  “What about my shoes?”

  “Grab them. We’ll stop and put them on later.”

  Nathan pulled a napkin from the grocery bag and carefully plucked the gunman’s cell phone from his pocket, taking care not to smear any fingerprints. He put it in the bag and began running toward the southwest corner of the parking lot. Somewhere north of their position, a siren rang out, probably a fire department engine. He hoped most of the cruisers from this area were responding to the action at Fashion Valley Mall. It might buy them a few extra minutes.

  At the corner of the shopping center, they hurried past a Hometown Buffet restaurant. No one was present outside, but several cars were waiting in a fast-food drive-through lane. He expected he and Lauren looked like a father and daughter fleeing a dangerous scene. Everyone in the area must’ve heard the handgun reports. The sooner they got out of here, the better. Nathan knew this neighborhood well, his second home was no more than half a mile distant.