A narrow alley ran along one side and a rolling garage door opened there. The front door looked as if no one had used it for months and a large plate glass window had paper over it from the inside. They checked all around the building, which looked deserted. When they tried the back door that Owen had instructed Brendan use, it was locked.
Brendan jimmied the door’s lock but couldn’t open it.
“Let me try.” Jim had no better luck.
One high window was ajar a couple of inches. Brendan nudged Jim. “Check that out.”
Jim looked up, then at Brendan. “I’m not an acrobat.” He pulled out his keys. ”I’ll get my truck and use it as a ladder, then you can drive it back where we’ve parked.”
He loped away and soon returned in his bright red Chevy truck. Parking so the bed was directly under the window, he shut off the engine. He tossed the keys to Brendan. “As soon as I’m inside, you drive away.”
Brendan looked around to see if anyone else watched them. No one in sight. “Good thing you’re lean or you’d never make it through there.”
“I still may not.” Jim vaulted onto the pickup’s bed, then stepped on one of the high fenders that protected the dual rear wheels.
“Careful you don’t crack the recorder.” They’d wired Jim with a tape recorder that would pick up sound from a long distance.
“Picky, picky. I’m more concerned about my neck.” Jim widened the opening and crawled over the sill.
When the window closed, Brendan drove the pickup back to the nearby parking lot then climbed into his own car parked in the building’s shade. Rolling down the window, he settled back for his half-hour wait.
Time dragged and sweat beaded on his forehead. Every sound startled him. Office workers came and went from the ISD offices. At half past noon, Owen hadn’t arrived at the warehouse. Where could he be?
Brendan would have seen Owen’s car if he’d pulled into the alley for the rolling garage door on the other side. He could only see two sides of the building, but no one had gone near the warehouse. He started the car and drove around the block. Still no sign of Owen’s car.
Parking near the building this time, he walked to the back door and tried it. The knob turned and it opened. Who’d unlocked it? He hoped to hell it had been Jim.
After the bright sun outside, Brendan squinted against the dim interior and stepped out of the doorway’s light.
Owen’s voice greeted him. “Very punctual, as usual. Now get your hands up.”
“Hello, Owen. Looks like you came a bit early.”
“Couldn’t risk being late to meet Mr. Clean himself. Had to arrange a reception for you.”
Brendan cringed. How could he have let Owen get the drop on him?
“You just wouldn’t quit, would you? I knew you’d figure it out if I didn’t get rid of you. I said hands up and get over here.”
He raised his hands and walked slowly toward the man who’d mentored him. “What happened. Owen? You were a good cop.”
Owen’s laugh sounded like a snarl. “All good cops get is a lousy pension, and my dear ex-wife Janice will get half of that. I want more and wasn’t about to let a couple of sappy guys like you and Farris cheat me out of it.”
Brendan inched closer. “But you taught me how to be a good cop. I looked up to you, trusted you.”
“Everyone has a blind spot. Guess I’m yours. And by the way, my boys and I took care of that snooping deputy you sent ahead of you.”
Damn, he fought to control his shock. He hoped Jim wasn’t dead. “So, what now, Owen? You take your own advice and run for some island with Trixie?”
“I’m leaving all right, but not with her. Plenty of women where I’m headed. I’ll have enough money to buy the best of them.”
He moved slowly. “I don’t think so. No women in the men’s prison at Huntsville. You’ll be alone on death row.”
“Like hell I will.” Owen waved the gun. “Get over here. Closer.”
Chapter Thirty Seven
Deirdre was chatting with her friend Mildred when the vision came. So terrifying, she thought she might pass out. Her throat closed and she saw spots whirling in front of her. She reached for Mildred to steady herself.
Mildred put an arm around Deirdre’s waist. “What’s wrong? You looked pale as a ghost.”
She gasped for breath. “You’ll think I’m daft.” The seriousness of the vision overruled her caution. “Please believe me. I’ve had a vision of Brendan and he’s in great danger. I must go to him, but I don’t know where he is.”
Mildred helped Deirdre to one of the chairs in the book section. “Head between your knees until you feel better.” Raising her voice, she called Blossom over, then spoke quietly. “Deirdre’s had a vision about your son. He needs our help.”
Blossom grabbed Deirdre’s hands. “Tell me, dear. What did you see?”
“He’s in a building. Owen’s there and he has a gun p-pointed at Brendan.” Deirdre’s eyes welled with tears of frustration. “We have to go to him, but I don’t know where he is!”
“Describe the building. Tell us everything you see.” Mildred nodded at Blossom. “I’ve lived here all my life and Blossom has been here several years. We might recognize the place if you give us a good description.”
“It’s big like a warehouse and it’s sort of dark inside.” She shrugged, tears running down her face. “The outside is creamy with a big reddish sign on the side advertising that soft drink, Coca Cola. Brendan’s car is parked near the back of the building. There aren’t any other cars around. But inside, Owen’s pointing a gun at Brendan.” She sobbed into her hands. “I knew he wanted Brendan dead. If we don’t help soon that’s what will happen.”
Mildred whipped a handkerchief from her huge purse and dabbed at Deirdre’s face. “Sounds like the old bottling plant. But I thought it was vacant.”
“Let’s go now. If Brendan’s car is parked there, we’ll call the police.” Blossom signaled Polly. “I know it’s a bad time, Polly, but we have a family emergency. Deirdre and I have to leave.”
Mildred pulled Deirdre to her feet. “If it were my son, I’d be too nervous to drive. Let’s take my car.”
The three hurried into Mildred’s new dark green Lincoln Navigator and drove away.
Panic had seized Deirdre and she fought to calm herself. She took comfort from the name of the vehicle. Sure and Mildred’s large car must be named after Saint Brendan, patron saint of navigators. Wasn’t it a sign from heaven?
Now they needed a plan. “We’ll need a gun, for Owen will have taken Brendan’s from him.”
Mildred patted her cavernous purse. “I have one right here with a permit for it. It’s a Sig Sauer and I’m good with it. Practice once a week at the shooting range.”
From the back seat, Blossom said, “Oh, my.”
Deirdre wiped her tears and made the sign of the cross. Sure and the saints were looking out for her today. “Thank you for believing me, Mildred. E-Except for Blossom, when people have learned about my visions, they were afraid of me or thought me a witch or insane.”
Mildred raced through a yellow light. “Wonderful you have that ability. It’s going to save Brendan’s life.”
“Oh, I hope so. You’re a good friend.” Her hands clamped on the edge of the seat to still their shaking. “I pray we’re not too late.”
From the back seat, Blossom cried, “Oh, dear, don’t even think it.”
“Calm down, both of you.” Mildred careened around a corner. “If it were too late, Deirdre would have had a different sort of vision.”
The words comforted Deirdre. Suddenly, she saw the building, just as it had appeared in her vision. “There it is. And look, there’s Brendan’s car near the back.”
Blossom leaned forward. “We must be careful not to panic Owen into shooting Brendan—or us.”
“I’ll park over there at the ISD building and we can walk to the back door.” Mildred wheeled into a parking lot at what looked like an office bu
ilding and turned off the engine. She took out her phone and dialed, then gave their location. “Let’s be quiet, but hurry.” She pulled out her gun. “Won’t hurt to have this handy.”
The three women rushed toward the building. Deirdre wanted to run, but the other two couldn’t keep up with her so she let them set the pace. Nothing would be gained if they straggled in panting and out of breath.
At the building’s back entrance, Deirdre carefully turned the knob and opened the door a crack. She heard voices, and slipped inside with the other two women right behind her. Mildred held the door so it closed slowly without a sound.
The dim interior cloaked everything in shadow. The car inside near a large door must belong to Owen because Brendan’s was the only one outside.
The voice that haunted her nightmares called, “Looks as if we have company. Come in, ladies. You’re just in time to die with Brendan.”
Brendan’s eyes widened in fear. “Deirdre? Mom? What are you doing? Get out of here! Run!”
Owen motioned with his gun. “Too late for that, ladies. Get over here by Brendan.”
Deirdre shook her head. “No. I’ll not let you mow us down.” To her companions, she said, “Spread out.”
Mildred pointed her own gun. “You can’t shoot all four of us before Brendan or I shoot you.”
“Think not?” Owen raised his voice. “All right, bring him out.”
From what looked to be a small office at the end, the two men who’d tried to kidnap her appeared. The sheriff’s deputy was bound and gagged in front of them. They shoved Jim to stand by Brendan. Jim looked as if he’d been hit on the head and acted as though he could barely stand.
Owen nodded toward Brendan. “James, get his gun and bring it to me.”
The dark-haired man still wore all black. He searched Brendan and took the gun from his waistband then handed it to Owen.
Deirdre’s heart plummeted. What chance did they have to defeat Owen now?
The blond man said, “Don’t shoot the young one yet, boss. Let me have her first. I owe her a lesson.”
She hadn’t thought it possible, but Deirdre’s terror increased. The words of the man called Rod brought back all the horror of her near kidnapping. Telling herself to focus on surviving and helping Brendan, she gauged their chances. She couldn’t see a way out, but she held on to Mildred’s words—if it was impossible, why would she have had the vision?
“Get over there at the side of this crowd.” When the thugs had moved to one side, Owen said, “You two always think with your dick instead of your brain.” Holding one gun in his right hand and Brendan’s gun in his left, Owen shot both thugs with Brendan’s gun. The blasts echoed through the cavernous building.
Deirdre cringed, her heart pounding in her ears. She forced herself to look at the men.
The blond ruffian had a hole in his forehead, the dark-haired one in his chest. The two wounded men had dropped to the floor like felled trees. Would Brendan be next?
Saint Brendan and Saint Brigid, you helped me before. Please don’t desert me now.
Blossom appeared near collapse. Mildred held her gun pointed at Owen, but her hand trembled. Brendan made eye contact with Deirdre, as if trying to send her a silent signal, but she couldn’t divine what he wanted her to do.
He cautioned, “It’ll never work, Owen. You’re sure to be caught with this many people dead in a building you leased.”
“That ass Gordon will believe whatever I tell him. We’ll make a dead hero out of the deputy, trying to save you ladies from the bad drug dealers.”
“Don’t do it, Owen. Get out now, while you can. Don’t kill innocent women.” Brendan appeared to shift his weight.
“How like you to make a plea for others and not yourself.” Owen snarled, “You disgust me.”
Jim inched toward Owen.
Brendan said, “You may fool the chief, but there’ll be others who question how this went down. The sheriff won’t be as easily convinced.”
“I’ll be the only one left to tell how you lured me here to kill me but a suspicious deputy had been trailing you. The two of you shot it out after you discovered those two worthless shits on the floor had killed the ladies and you retaliated. You may have noticed it was your gun that shot them.”
“And the lease in your name? How will you explain that?” Brendan asked.
“Plan to use the building for my retirement business. What a sad story it will be, but front-page stuff. I’m sure to get another medal and the deputy will too, posthumously, of course.”
Without a blink of the eye for the two men he’d just killed, Owen faced Deirdre. “I remember you, you little bitch from Ballymish. You thought you could escape me, and I thought you had. I landed twenty years before you in time.”
Jim inched closer to Owen, but could he move nearer without attracting attention that would get him shot?
Deirdre raised her chin and met evil Owen’s gaze. “You’re father murdered mine, and you turned the villagers against me. How did you ever become a policeman?”
“I soon realized there was money in police work. Worked a little, then lucked into the contacts needed to, shall we say, improve my record paperwork? Made getting a job here easy. Fooling people was easier. Now I’m going to even all scores and get rid of all the witnesses.” He took aim at Deirdre.
Mildred shot Owen in the arm. He half-turned and dropped Brendan’s firearm. He wheeled around, his other hand still gripping a weapon.
Brendan sprang forward and dived for the dropped gun. Before he reached it, Deirdre felt a burst of flame in her chest. It stung like fire. Looking down, she saw the crimson stain on her shirt. Moisture bubbled up in her throat.
Dear Lord, she was drowning in her own blood. Burning sulfur stung her nose. Was this it, then? Was she finally on her way to Hell?
Not now, please God. Not when I’ve found my place with people I love and who love me.
Her knees turned to jelly. The swirling floor rose to meet her as the warehouse’s dim interior faded.
Brendan heard himself scream, “Deirdre!” He grabbed his Glock and shot Owen twice.
Disbelief crossed Owen’s face before he fell. “No, wasn’t supposed to be like this. Always worked before. I always win....”
Brendan wrenched the gun from Owen’s hand, but the man was dead. He rushed to Deirdre’s side, where his mother and Mildred crouched. He squeezed in beside them.
“Mom, would you and your friend untie Jim?” He cradled Deirdre in his arms and pressed his folded handkerchief to her back would, crazed with fear at the blood draining from her breast and back. Sobs rose in his throat as he raised her head and shoulders hoping to slow the bleeding.
Dear God, save her!
He pressed his finger to her throat. A faint pulse beat there. “Honey, can you hear me?”
Her eyelids fluttered and her lips moved, but she didn’t make a sound. He was vaguely aware sirens approached, heard cars squeal to a stop outside.
“Is she all right?” His mom returned.
“She’s still breathing. Have you called an ambulance?”
“Mildred did.” Sobbing, his mom knelt and took one of Deirdre’s hands. “Son, I thought we were all going to die.”
“So did I. God help us, I can’t stop Deirdre’s bleeding.”
“Poor dear, I see she’s losing a lot of blood. But she’ll be all right, son. The ambulance will be here soon.”
Brendan took no comfort from his mother’s reassurance. Too much blood. Deirdre would die unless help arrived soon. Where were they?
The door burst open and Chief Gordon rushed in. “Hands in the air, Hunter. You’re under arrest and this time you won’t get out on bail.”
“Sorry, chief, I’m not budging. I’m trying to save a life.” The most important life in the world. He spoke to Deirdre. “Hold on, honey. Help’s on the way. Just hold on for me. Don’t leave me.”
Mildred stepped toward the chief. “Put your gun away, Buddy. I told you this
man is innocent.” She aimed a hard kick at Owen’s thigh. “That’s the guilty man. He admitted that he intended to kill all of us and claim Brendan Hunter had done it. He had the nerve to think you’d give him a commendation.”
Gun still in hand, she put her hands on her hips and faced the chief. “And you’d probably have fallen for his story. He said it had worked before.”
Chief Gordon turned fire engine red and a tell tale vein in his neck pulsed with anger. “Mildred, you’re overstepping yourself.”
More sirens approached. An army of paramedics and firemen carried in equipment while one pushed a gurney.
“Over here,” Brendan called. “She’s losing blood fast.” He glanced at his friend. “Jim, you okay?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Brendan gave Jim an assessing look. The man appeared ready to pass out himself, but since his friend was at least able to stand, Brendan didn’t argue. Damned if he’d let anyone keep him away from Deirdre.
As if reading his mind, Jim said, “You take care of her. I’ll deal with Gordon.”
While two paramedics worked on Deirdre, one checked Owen and his two stooges. When the other man got to the dark-haired thug called James, he yelled, “Get another stretcher over here. This one’s still alive.”
There was no room in an ambulance for Brendan. He raced to his car and drove to the hospital.
He paced the waiting room outside the surgical area while Deirdre was in surgery. The blue and gray furniture was probably supposed to soothe him, but it didn’t. A small cart of books near the door offered a variety of paperbacks but he wouldn’t have been able to focus.
Over and over in his head, he replayed the events. How did he let her get involved? Could he have stopped her?
Why hadn’t he listened when she told him the guilty man was Owen? Her first visions played out just as she said. He should have trusted her more, should have listened and taken action earlier.
He recalled her ardor and sweetness last night. They’d made passionate love half the night. It was himself he’d feared wouldn’t make it through the confrontation with Owen, not Deirdre. Why hadn’t he been able to protect her?
10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set Page 183