Killer on Call 6 Book Bundle (Books 1-6)

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Killer on Call 6 Book Bundle (Books 1-6) Page 24

by Gwendolyn Druyor


  She set the lamp behind her and then stepped back to get a good view of the door to see if there were any other options. She picked up the bolt cutters and tried to hold them open and use the blades to scrape at the weld. Then a voice caught her attention.

  “Your lover’s an idiot if she thinks I’d let her get away with this.”

  Kissy froze. The raspy tenor voice was familiar but she couldn’t place it. It wasn’t Tim’s voice. And it definitely wasn’t Avi’s rumbling bass.

  “So you got one of the padlocks off. Nice. Now if only you had my key.”

  Kissy lifted her arm and looked at the key dangling from a green ribbon around her wrist. The voice suddenly clicked with a face in her mind. She had the image of a man throwing her off the dock. She remembered the voice and the craggy face of Randall Crella.

  Pulling her knife from where she’d stashed it in the pocket of the hoodie after Tim had shoved her back into the ambulance, Kissy ran for the front of container thirty-three. She stopped at the edge and peered around.

  Tim was kneeling on the bunched up fabric of the silks. His bare skin was turning a shade complimentary to the blue of the fabric. It was set off by his red boxers. One padlock was resting on the wet ground in front of the silks. Rain dripped from his hair onto his knees though the container shielded him from the worst of the storm.

  Randall Crella, in a suit darkened by the weather, leaned over Tim. He was gripping a propeller with one blade attached. She recognized the broken piece from the makeshift boat repair station at the edge of the dock.

  Tim’s blue-tinged skin shone pale where Crella pressed the blade into his neck. Kissy felt the icy sharpness of the edge slicing through her own thin skin, imagined the hot blood flooding down and pooling in the hollows of her clavicles. She suddenly found herself gasping for air, unable to think, unable to move, unable to save her friend.

  Eighteen

  Tim slowly raised his hands into the air. A part of his brain noted that his fingertips were so cold he could barely feel them anymore. He turned the palms around and examined his lifeline to focus his attention, as Finn had taught him, on something that might slow his heart.

  One of his aliases was a fortune teller. Tim had learned that you can divine a lot about a person by holding their hand. More from the heat, moisture level, and heart beat than from any wrinkles in the skin but the depth of the wrinkles could tell you a lot about how they handled tension and stress.

  Randall was holding his palm out by Tim’s right shoulder. Tim could see that he was not handling his stress very well.

  “Give me the key.”

  Tim arched his head back as he reached down and picked up his tools. Randall leaned with him. When he sat up to drop the destroyed paperclip and bobby pin into Randall’s hand, he saw the bladed weapon the man was holding to his throat.

  “Is that a boat propeller?” he asked incredulously.

  “Shut up.” Randall threw the makeshift rake and tensioner into a puddle. “Where’s the key?”

  Tim liked a stupid adversary. Finn thought dumb criminals were harder to negotiate with but Tim appreciated the efforts idiots put in to make his job easier.

  “I didn’t need it anymore so I threw it over there, on the walkway,” he looked carefully over his shoulder away from the alley Kissy was hiding in. “You know, the cops are on their way.”

  “I’m not worried about the police.” Randall pushed the blade up under Tim’s jaw. “I want the key to the second lock.”

  Tim focused on his breath and kneeling up as tall as he could. “I don’t have a key. I have a bobby pin and a paperclip.” He spoke calmly, trying to draw out some more information. “So, you don’t know who put a lock on your storage unit?”

  “Coldman put one of them on.” Randall said, trying to prove he was in charge. “You put on the other.”

  This was news to Tim. He considered how to find out who Randall thought he was and decided the man was dumb enough that a direct question just might work. “Do you know who I am?”

  “You’re Coldman’s lover.” Randall’s tone dripped with disdain.

  Tim couldn’t blame him for the distaste. The thought of sleeping with Councilwoman Patrice Coldman ran a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with being naked in the freezing rain. It wasn’t that the woman was unattractive. She had striking bone structure and had clearly gone to great lengths to style her undoubtedly dyed black hair. Tim had of course gotten a very good peek at her ample breasts when she’d leaned over the poker table to show them to him and he wouldn’t turn down a quick motorboating. But the thought of being intimate with a woman he pegged as a snake within fifteen seconds of meeting her just made his blood run cold. But let Randall think what he would. Tim wasn’t worried about the man’s opinion of him.

  He did need to figure out what the man wanted though.

  “Would you like me to pick her lock?” he offered.

  Randall leaped on the suggestion. “Yes. I want my merchandise.”

  Tim couldn’t think of a way to get Randall to reveal what the hell he thought was being stored in the container because it sure didn’t sound like he knew it was a bunch of human beings. He waited for a moment but the man kept the blade against his neck. He took another breath and willed the snark out of his voice.

  “I can’t reach it with your propeller in the way.”

  Randall slid the blade around his neck so a point was sticking against Tim’s spine. “Just don’t make any sudden moves.”

  Diving for his satchel would count as a sudden move. So he picked the office and beauty supplies out of a their puddle and went to work on the second padlock. Within moments, the hasp clicked open. Tim shivered. The women were so close to freedom and so far. He left the lock hanging on the latching bar. When he reached for his satchel though, Randall stopped him.

  “No.” He could almost hear the wheels turning in Randall’s head. “Put the other padlock back on and fetch me the key.”

  Tim couldn’t contain his laughter. He turned it into a cough which was further covered by the roll of thunder overhead. The lock was laying by his knee. Tim picked it up slowly, planning a quick turn to bash the heavy metal into Randall’s head, but as he adjusted, Randall leaned in and placed the blade back on his neck. Too slow.

  He slipped the padlock in and pretended to click the hasp. In the dark, Randall wouldn’t see unless he bent close which would work just as well for Tim. Randall didn’t check his work.

  “Stand up,” he ordered. “We’re going to back slowly over to the walkway where you’ll retrieve the key for me.”

  Lightning lit up the sky as they reached the divider between the old cement dock and Mayor Sutton’s new wooden walkway. Tim stopped, blinded momentarily.

  Randall pulled at him. “Keep moving!”

  Tim looked to the right of the container, trying to see Kissy. Nothing moved in the darkness. When Randall stepped smoothly down to the wood Tim took the opportunity to lose his balance and fall back. The man surprised him by pushing harshly. It took everything Tim had to keep his neck from hitting the blade. He held his hands out as he caught his balance and kept walking backwards with Randall. He knew he needed to get the man talking again. Talking was much better than thinking.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he whimpered in a pleading voice. “It was an accident.”

  Randall stopped at the railing. “Right. Don’t fucking try anything else.”

  Tim felt the blade sliding back and forth as Randall scanned the walkway with his eyes for the key. He waited for the man to order him to find it. But he seemed to realize his blade wasn’t much of a distance weapon and changed the plan.

  “We’re just gonna wait here until my buyer arrives.”

  Another clap of thunder crackled in the sky. Tim counted the seconds to the crack of lightning.

  “Your buyer isn’t going to arrive,” he said, laughing. Then he yelled into the cold, wet, dark night, “He’s already been intercepted by my arm
y!” And Tim laughed like a mad man.

  Randall laughed with him. “You don’t have an army.”

  Through his act, Tim wondered if the man was right. The rain wasn’t letting up. The lightning was coming closer. And there was no sign of Kissy or Avi coming to save him.

  Nineteen

  Lightning broke the sky overhead and Kissy’s daze. She felt like sparks flew off the rows and rows of retired shipping containers and lit up the night.

  “He’s already been intercepted by my army!”

  Tim’s crazed words set off lightning in her brain. She was the freaking army he was calling to. She had promised to save him just as he had stayed to save her in the hospital lounge.

  She looked around the small alleyway and assessed her available tools. If she could create a weapon, she knew she could count on Tim to create an opportunity.

  She felt the folding knife Julia had gifted to her at graduation in a pocket of her stolen hoodie. She could slice the guy if she got close enough. But the very thought of cutting someone the way she’d been cut made her want to heave. She left it in her pocket.

  She looked down. The silks had been pulled long as they followed Tim and Crella to the wooden walkway but the metal rigging was still laying on the ground beside Kissy’s green booted feet. And she could see them because she had the lamp, standing back by the roll up door.

  The metal rigging. The lamp. The extension cord coiled at her feet. The knife.

  These were her tools in addition to darkness, rain, and very little clothing.

  Looking around the container at Tim out at the edge of the water with the man who had thrown her in such a short time before inspired Kissy’s first plan. She bent and dragged the rigging down to the edge of the roll up door and hooked the carabiner onto the steel latch plates. The silks still had about a yard of play but even considering the elastic nature of the fabric, Tim would not reach the water if Crella managed to get him over the rail.

  Checking the length of the silks, she saw the green extension cord running loosely alongside it.

  Out in the clear she heard Tim lying. “Really? You think I took out your three bodyguards all by myself?”

  There were four, Tim, Kissy thought. She looked up from her work on the extension cord remembering the ponytailed thug running away. Where had he gone? She flipped her knife and used the blade as a screwdriver to open the cage protecting the bare bulb.

  Crella laughed some more. As if he’d heard her thoughts, he said, “I have four guards.”

  Kissy wrapped the end of the loose tail of the silks around her hand and considered if Crella would be able to see the light from the edge of the dock and if he or Tim would notice if it went out. Her decision was made when she heard a commotion coming from the other side of the container. She unscrewed the bulb.

  Kissy set the bulb down where it sizzled in the rainwater. Then she grabbed the lamp and ran to peek around the container. The scuffle on the other side had been quick. There was no sound anymore.

  Tim sounded totally composed. “Here comes the cavalry.”

  Both of them were staring at the far side of the container but Crella was still holding the propeller right at Tim’s throat. Kissy didn’t see an opening that wouldn’t put Tim at risk.

  Crella crowed but Kissy thought she heard some serious doubt behind his words. “You think they can save your life? I have a blade to your neck.”

  He pushed the edge into Tim’s skin and she saw Tim flinch. She thought she saw blood trickle down his bare chest even though there was no way she could see blood at this distance in this darkness. She had to believe it was just her imagination and ignore the cold fear that threatened to overtake her again.

  Tim played a dangerous card. “I like a little foreplay.”

  Against all odds, Crella released his arm. Kissy saw him shudder and try to step away from Tim. His back was already against the walkway railing though and he threw himself off balance for a second. Kissy got another idea.

  She knelt and untwisted the silks.

  A deep bass voice cut through the drumming rain, “Halt!”

  Yes! Avi was the cavalry.

  Pulling the loose tail of fabric free, Kissy tied it in what she thought of as a ‘rabbit around the rosie’ knot thanks to father’s inept but adorable instruction.

  “Oh, thank god, officer,” Tim shouted. “Shoot him.”

  Another thunderclap threatened to burst her ears. Kissy ignored the weather, her heart light now that she wasn’t responsible for saving Tim.

  Then she heard Avi say apologetically, “I’m sorry it took so long to get here, Mr. Crella. Is this man trying to rob you?”

  The dock lit up in a triple flash of lightning. Kissy saw Avi in his long coat with a plastic covered police cap and galoshes, gun held at his side jump in bursts towards the pair at the railing as if he were caught in the strobe of a dance club. She saw the fear and anger in Tim’s eyes and then a shake of his head made her realize she had run out of her hiding place.

  Two steps back and she was in the shadow of container thirty-three again. Crella relaxed but the blade stayed raised. And if Avi really was on his side, Tim was still in serious danger. She grabbed the fabric from where she had dropped it and pulled the tight loop of silk over her head.

  “It’s okay, Officer.” Crella sounded as relieved as Kissy had felt three seconds ago. “At least the commissioner finally sent you. I texted him over an hour ago.”

  So Tim was right about the commissioner and Crella. Kissy listened hard as she tugged and yanked to get the loop of fabric past her shoulders.

  Crella went on, “Our buyer should be here soon. Handcuff this man but keep him here.”

  Kissy got the knot down and pulled her arms out of the loop. The fabric was splayed from her butt to up over her head so it took a second for Crella’s next words to sink in.

  “We’ll see if Vanessa knows who he is.”

  Kissy froze. All her senses went dead. Feeling and sound and sight drained from her as if washed away in the rain. Then it all surged back in a white hot fire.

  Not fully aware of herself, Kissy spun and grabbed the lamp. She was already running and the extension cord flared into the air as she flipped the post over. She reached out blindly and caught the cord in her other hand just in time to bowl through Tim and drive Crella bodily over the railing. She wrapped the cord around his neck and felt electricity surge through her. Crella had grabbed Tim’s arm with his bare hand and Tim’s nearly naked body was trapped between them like a conductor. The electricity from the wires she had stripped bare shot electricity through all three of them until Crella and the lamp were torn way when she and Tim’s fabric safety lines reached their limit and pulled the two back.

  She was sprayed with water when Crella hit the water and felt another quick spike of electricity in her teeth. Panic made her grab at Tim who was also swinging from the end of the silks beneath the wooden walkway. She held him close and rolled to wrap them both in the hammock of fabric against her back.

  Thunder rumbled and washed them in a blanket of sound even as lightning arced into the water and found the metal lamp. Sparks leapt out at them, bright against her closed eyes. And soon the smells of burning flesh overtook the fishy smell of the wharf as the explosive lights and sound faded away.

  The hammock bounced. Tim in his red undies and Kissy in her green boots clung to each other in the deep blue fabric.

  “Aren’t you glad you didn’t cut it?”

  “What?” Kissy yelled.

  He repeated, “Aren’t you glad you didn’t cut the silks?”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  The bouncing slowed and Kissy felt Tim’s freezing cold legs wrapped around her waist. She saw that there was a cut on his neck, bleeding tiny droplets onto her stolen sweatshirt. His eyes were caught by whatever remained of Randall Crella in the water beneath them. She didn’t turn to look.

  She tilted her head to capture his
attention instead. “You okay?”

  His eyes locked on hers and she saw his gratitude and admiration. Her heart sped up and a smile crept onto her lips as she also saw his love. He opened his mouth to speak.

  But Avi broke the spell from above.

  “What did you do, Tim?” He shouted, sending them swinging again as he wrapped his strong arms around the fabric.

  “Not me.” Tim’s rakish grin returned and he held tighter to Kissy, stiffening against the fabric pulled at his waist. “I had nothing to do with it.”

  The swinging slowed for a second, Avi’s voice filled with doubt. “Kissy?”

  Tim raised an eyebrow at her, an admiring giggle bursting from his chest.

  Kissy thought about what she’d just done. She lit up with a matching grin and shrugged. “Electricity is fun.”

  Twenty

  Avi braced his feet on the edge of the walkway with the wooden railing biting into his gut. He wrapped his hands around the silks and prepared, for a second time that evening, to haul Tim and Kissy to safety. A roll of thunder and quickly following crack of lightning almost hid the ominous creaking of the rail. He stopped and considered how much weight this added-on wooden platform could take. Then the wail of sirens wove through the rain pounding on the shipping containers and Avi realized several things at once.

  He didn’t know who he couldn’t trust in the police department. If the commissioner knew about this deal, others must.

  He needed to open the shipping container and free the women before anyone, the police or the buyer arrived.

  If the buyer was Vanessa, he needed to be ready to arrest her. He couldn’t let her get away again. She’d killed his brother. She’d tried to kill Kissy.

  He also realized that he didn’t want Kissy or Tim to have to answer any questions. Kissy had saved Tim’s life. And Tim had only been in danger because he’d agreed to hold off on killing Crella to respect Avi’s search for prosecutorial evidence.

 

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