by Trish Reeb
"Yo." Martindale eyed him. "That the best you can do?"
Cole, wearing jeans and bomber jacket but no disguise, yanked a knitted cap from his pocket and pulled it over his head. "This help?"
Martindale gave him a half-hearted grin. "It’ll have to." He let out a sigh. "No sign of Alex yet. Or her car." He folded a stick of gum in his mouth. "Think she changed her mind?"
"It’s a woman’s prerogative, but in Alex’s case, not a chance."
"Either she’s not here yet or they already pulled a David Copperfield," Martindale said.
"Better to think the worst than let valuable time slip away," Cole said.
"We’ll split up. You check the rides while I go inside again. Keep to the shadows. These monkeys detect heat, we can kiss Alex good-bye."
CHAPTER 71
Drenched in sweat, Alex’s skin burned. Her heart raced. She clenched her jaws and wished for a piece of gum. Alex, you don’t even chew gum. It didn’t matter. She needed something to relieve the pressure. Maybe she had a pen in her pocket. She tried to reach for it. Where are my arms? She wiggled her hands and found them behind her back, bound together. What? She struggled to sit up, but her ankles were also wrapped in tape.
The adrenaline pumped through her body like a narcotic. She twisted her hands, trying to loosen the binds. Although she felt like she could conquer the world, she couldn’t rip off a stupid piece of duct tape. If only she could squeeze her butt between her taped wrists and bring her arms around in front of her. She’d seen it done on TV. Attempting the stunt again and again, her heart galloping, the energy gushed out of her body. She only managed to work up a thirst. An ice cold glass of water would taste heavenly. An orange Popsicle on a stick would be perfect and satisfy two needs. Wishing only increased the dehydration and teeth clenching.
She sniffed the mildew and stale cigarette smoke in the carpet under her cheek. Normally a turn her off, she inhaled deeply. Faint music played in the distance. She wiggled her body to the beat, feeling like a mermaid without arms. A sense of peace and well-being suffused her chest. Her heart raced, spreading warmth to every part of her body. She raked the carpet, digging her nails and fingertips into it, feeling the rough texture and wanting more. Her mind, an out-of-control ping pong ball, ricocheted from one thought to another, giving clarity to the clues of the murder case. One idea fed into another and another. Feeling smarter, more perceptive and analytical than ever before, Alex expertly wove the common thread through the material of the case. She’d have it all sewn together by the time Cole caught up to her. Wouldn't he be surpri—
Voices.
She jumped. Perking her ears, she caught only fragments of the conversation. If she could only get their attention. She talked through the tape over her mouth, sounding like a kazoo and not a very loud one. They might be affiliated with the wrong side. Certainly friends had not transported her here. And, hello, tied her up. She lay still, listening. The voices diminished to whispers behind the jingling keys. With a grating noise, the back door of the van opened and the vehicle shifted. She had company. Alex closed her eyes and remained still.
Cold fingers pressed her wrist. "Her pulse be racing," her visitor whispered.
"Good. Check the tapes. Don’t want the bitch escaping," a second voice said softly. "Dumb ho, she so easy to play."
"You was right about her coming."
"Couldn’t resist, know what I’m saying?" The voice grew dimmer as the boys backed out of the van.
The door slammed.
Alone again.
The music recaptured her attention. She twisted to the rhythm. Focus, Alex. She hummed her kazoo. Focus, Alex. What had he meant? She replayed it in her mind again and again. Ah-hah. She’d been setup. Why and by whom? She’d recognized one of the voices. Bingo! McGerald River. Now known as Redd Dog and not to be trusted. Maybe it hadn't been so smart coming alone. Why had she been so stupid to leave her charger in Atlanta? And never bothered to memorize Jordan’s phone number? Alex hummed. She rubbed her body against the carpeted floor, her mouth dry, her shoulders aching, jaws clenching.
A half hour later, her body temperature was still high. She didn't feel the cold—except for an occasional shiver—even though the van generated no heat. Voices again, outside the van. Alex lay still trying to make out the conversation.
"I think the car’s over here," a male voice said.
"Why didn’t you pay closer attention to where we parked?" A female spoke this time.
"Why didn't you?"
Using the heels of her feet, Alex scooted over to the side of the van and kicked it hard. After five or six loud whacks, she paused to listen.
The couple had journeyed on.
Energized, she continued ramming the side of van.
CHAPTER 72
Cole examined vehicle after vehicle with his flashlight but found nothing suspicious. He glanced at his watch. He’d searched for over an hour and a half with no sign of Alex or either of her cars.
Thump.
Stopping in his tracks, Cole's ears pricked up.
Thump. Thump.
Following the beating drum, he wove his way through the maze of vehicles. He went left instead of right and the thumping faded. Seconds later, he stood outside a van he’d seen earlier. With no windows beyond the cab, the tinted glass in the rear door had obstructed his view. He’d knocked on the window calling out Alex’s name, but there’d been no response.
*
The handle rattled on the back door.
Tensing, Alex stopped her kick in midair. Friend or foe? Redd Dog had a key. Maybe a friend. She banged again, harder.
The door handle jiggled on the driver’s and then on the passenger’s side.
Silence.
Had her liberator left? Given up already? Oh, for heaven’s sa—
The window shattered.
Alex jolted. Tiny pellets of glass sprayed her face. Her heart soaring, she hummed.
The door opened. A dark silhouette climbed into the cab. Seconds later, the figure scrambled between the seats into the back, crunching over broken glass. She strained her eyes trying to make out his features.
Hands reached out. "Alex, thank God it’s you." Cole stripped the tape from her mouth.
Her heart swelled to watermelon size. "I love you," she said. She would've hugged him but for her bound hands.
Using his knife, he cut the tape and threw the wad aside.
Alex rubbed her wrists, grabbed him in a bear hug. "You feel so good."
Cole groaned. He removed his coat, placing it over Alex’s shoulders. Staring at her, he shook his head. "Let’s get you out of here."
"How did you find me?" she asked, scooting on her behind over to the rear door. Cole vacated the van first and extended his hand. Clutching it, she jumped to the ground.
"What the hell were you thinking?" he whispered, closing the door softly.
Alex reached down and scooped up a handful of snow. She sucked it into her mouth. Cold, wet, she went for another.
"No time. Besides it's dirty."
"Thirsty," she said, shoveling more snow into her mouth.
"I’ll get you some water."
She stroked the leather of his jacket. "Hm-m, soft."
"You’re high, aren’t you?"
"How did you know?" She bent over.
Cole grabbed her arm. "Alex, stop! We’ve got to hurry."
"Can we go back and look for my jacket?"
"You mean this?" He held it up. "This thing wouldn’t keep a squirrel warm."
Cole picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. "Woman, you’re a pain in the royal butt."
The pressure on her stomach made her sick. "Put me down," she said, pumping her legs.
"We’re almost there."
They reached the Hummer and Cole planted her feet on the ground.
Alex wobbled.
He steadied her and opened the passenger door.
Once closeted inside, he started the engine. After several minutes,
heat blasted through the registers.
Alex sighed and leaned back on the cool, smooth leather. She ran her hand over the seat. Leaving the Hummer for the Land of Obscurity, she forgot all about dazzling Cole with her brilliant conclusions.
CHAPTER 73
Sunday, February 18
Martindale tapped on the passenger’s window. When Cole powered it down, he leaned over and peered inside. "Where’d you find her?"
"Not far from here. We need some water."
Martindale winked and disappeared. Ten minutes later he returned carrying several bottles of water and hopped into the back seat.
Cole talked over his shoulder. "Raphael’s work."
More alert now, Alex stared at him. "Who’s Raphael? It was Redd Dog." She faced Martindale. "Do you have any gum?"
He dug into his pocket and handed her a pack of peppermint sugarless.
"What do we do with . . .?" Cole cocked his head in Alex’s direction, "Can’t trust her to stay put."
Alex slapped his arm. "The name's Alex."
"Can’t handcuff her and leave her here," Martindale said. "She attracts trouble like a magnet."
"Can’t bring her along."
"I love you guys, too," Alex said. She eyed Martindale. "Why are you dressed like that? Did you crash the Rave, too?" She paused. "I thought you were in jail."
"Or leave her alone," Martindale said. "She’d follow the devil himself. We’ve obtained enough evidence, I’m calling for backup." He placed the call. Afterward, he said, "We don’t know how much time before they discover she’s missing."
Cole’s phone vibrated. He checked the caller ID. "I think it’s Whitfield," he shot over the backseat. "Grant," he said into the phone. "Yeah, I found her." He listened and then covered the phone. "He’s here. He can drive Alex home. What do you think?"
Martindale nodded vigorously.
"I want to help. Please, please, please," Alex said, pulling on Cole’s sleeve.
"Got a favor to ask," Cole said into his cell.
A few minutes later, Jordan pulled up in his Cadillac, blocking the Hummer.
Cole escorted Alex, carrying the bottles of water, to the car and ordered him to take her straight home no matter what she said. As Jordan drove away, he saluted. Believing Alex in good hands, Cole returned the gesture.
*
Jordan pointed the car toward the exit.
"Stop!" Alex fumbled for the handle, but the door didn’t open. "There’s Sheila’s car. I promised I'd have it back by tomorrow." She pressed the release button.
Jordan slammed on the brakes, grabbing the sleeve of her jacket at the same time. "What are you doing?" he said. "We need to get out of here."
"I’m not leaving her car here."
"We don't have time to debate this." He sighed. "Okay, we’ll take hers. Now close the door so I can locate a parking space." Jordan slid the Cadillac into the spot a Mazda vacated and killed the engine. "Hurry up."
Bottles of water tucked in her arms, Alex and Jordan hustled to the PT Cruiser.
She headed to the driver’s side.
"Oh, no, you don’t." Jordan guided her over to the passenger door. "Keys," he said, once he sat behind the wheel. Holding out his hand, he gestured with his fingers.
Alex pawed into the pocket of her not-warm-enough-for-a-squirrel jacket. She jangled the key ring in the air.
Jordan snatched it, started the engine. Heading toward the mouth of the lot, they motored down the narrow aisle, the car’s headlights guiding the way.
Up ahead, spotlights illuminated a crowd of teens exiting the warehouse. Spreading out single file, they marched shoulder to shoulder.
Jordan flicked on the car's brights. "What’s with those kids?"
"One, two," Alex counted. "There’re ten of them."
People skirted around them. A car took another route. Undeterred, the human barrier kept coming.
Fifty yards away, Jordan braked. "I don’t like this. Those kids look like trouble." He slammed into reverse. "They’re not letting people or cars through," he said over his shoulder, backing up.
"There’re kids, having a little fun," Alex said.
"At others’ expense. I don’t know what they’re up to but I’m not sticking around to find out." The lane too narrow to turn around, Jordan continued driving in reverse. "Keep an eye on those kids, will you?"
CHAPTER 74
Cole drifted to a spot where he could observe the exit. Once the Cadillac left the premises, he'd no longer have to worry about Alex. Jordan would see her home where she’d sleep off the drug and wake up to news of the killers' arrests and imprisonment. If everything went according to plan.
He hadn’t seen Raphael La Fontaine or Mary Winter. No word from Martindale either. Jordan had had enough time to go in and out of the exit ten times. Where the hell were they? He pulled out his phone, accessed Jordan’s number, and punched the call button. It went straight to voicemail. Cole trotted to the front of the building and peered around the corner.
A queue of teens, arm to arm with their backs to him, marched away from the lights of the warehouse and into the dark parking lot. Stranger than the formation was their behavior. Though dressed in b-boy style, they didn't laugh, talk, or goof off like typical teenagers. More like soldiers on a mission—as in, Redd Dog’s soljahs. Sun Tzu preached, When ten times the enemy’s strength, surround. Multiply that by Alex’s state of mind and Jordan’s inexperience, the odds doubled.
Damn. Rule Number One: never send a civilian to do a cop’s job. Cole sprinted out of his hiding place to trail the Red Rover chain. But he found no humor in the parody of a childhood game. Staying out of sight, and carving his way between parked cars, he kept a lookout for Jordan’s Cadillac.
A GMC pickup, lights off, passed him. Like the Red Sea, the line of teens split in half allowing the truck through. Coming to a crunching halt, the driver gunned the engine. Soldiers scrambled aboard the bed of the truck, six of them swinging rifles to their shoulders.
What're they up to? And who're they after? Cole peered down the aisle at a PT Cruiser driving in reverse, almost picking off the bumper of a Buick. GMC’s lights flashed. At the far end, another pair of headlights answered, the engine revving in the distance. What kind of game were they playing? Thank god he'd left Alex safely entrenched in Jordan’s Cadillac, not a PT Cruiser. Or had he?
Cadillac. He’d passed a black Cadillac. Retracing his steps, he shined his flashlight inside. A bottle of water lay on the passenger seat. It hit him then. Since neither he nor Martindale had spotted Alex’s car, maybe she hadn't driven it. Damn, of course she hadn't. She wouldn't risk going home for hers after all the trouble she went through to avoid him. She'd take Sheila's and if Sheila owned a PT Cruiser . . . .
He punched Jordan's number into his cell again. This time he couldn’t even get a signal. Hoofing it, Cole closed in. The Cruiser neared a parking space. Pull in, man. Pull in. It’s your only chance.
The drivers terrorizing the occupants in the car stepped on the gas.
The PT Cruiser came to a halt as if the driver read Cole’s mind. He made a sharp left and stopped short of nailing another car. Reverse it, reverse it, Cole cheered him on.
He backed up and tried again. Hurry up, man. The Ford pickup closed in. He's not going to make it. The PT cruiser rolled forward. You're running out of time.
Bam! The truck barreled into the left rear side of the car. Still a distance away, Cole swore softly. The truck driver jumped out and fled. The GMC ground to a stop about twenty yards away. Armed teens leaped off, forming their line again.
The passenger door of the Cruiser opened and the top of a black head appeared. Alex. She squeezed through the narrow opening, leaving the door ajar. Ducking, she wove her way through the cars and headed for the woods. Though Cole silently applauded her for escaping, he couldn't imagine where she thought she was going. She'd be on the lookout for Redd Dog so did it matter? How long would the effects of the drug last and how much would it incap
acitate her thinking?
Cole scrunched and crept to the PT Cruiser. He peered inside. Jordan, bleeding from a head wound, slouched over the steering wheel sandwiched between it and the back of the seat. Cole removed his cell phone to call 911 but still couldn’t get a signal. Someone had a scrambler, blocking his calls. He slid into the passenger seat.
Jordan moaned, mumbled something.
Cole brought his ear close to Jordan's mouth.
"H-ow’s . . . A-lex?" he asked.
"She escaped." For now. "Where does it hurt?"
"I-I can’t move."
Jordan needed medical attention and Cole had no way to call for help. Alex was on the run. Raphael’s army was closing in. Wait for the enemy’s moment of vulnerability.
CHAPTER 75
Alex stumbled through the dark woods, keeping thoughts of Jordan and Sheila’s mangled car out of her head. If only she had had time to look for a flashlight. At least she’d remembered to grab the taser hidden under the driver’s seat. She thought back to the moment when she'd stumbled across it in her suitcase. If she hadn't decided to wear the shell buried under a mountain of clothes, she never would've seen it. She yanked the water bottle from the pocket of her coat and drank greedily. The coat, designed for style and not function, was still too warm for her over-stimulated body.
The full moon filtering through the branches of the trees helped her find the way—not that she knew where she was going. It disappeared. She stared up at the increasing cloud cover, fascinated by their swirling shapes and movement. Turning full circle, she observed nothing but trees and more trees. Noticing a path between two of them, she welcomed it as a sign. She tromped deeper into the woods, oblivious of her footprints trailing behind.