No one said a word as they passed by offices. The rest of Lacy’s family was sitting outside the conference room. Nina and Beth stood and hurried toward Dylan. Nina tucked her arm into his. “Have you heard from Lacy’s kidnappers?”
“Sorry, Nina, I haven’t heard from anyone.”
Tate saw them through the window of the conference room. He opened the door and said, “Come on in and I’ll catch you up on what’s been happening.”
Dylan patted Nina’s hand before he pulled away. He was the first through the door, then Grant and Josh. Marcy and Stan stood back since it was crowded at the table where a map of Raleigh was unfolded. “What happened to your head?”
A big white bandage covered the back of Scott’s head. “One of the men that kidnapped Lacy hit me in the head with his pistol.”
“Are you okay? Blood is leaking through the bandage.”
Scott waved him off. “I’m fine.”
“Where’s Michelle?”
“She is at the hospital with Elijah. He was shot in the fray. He’s going to be okay. There were three of them. James lost them here.” Scott pointed to Market Street on the map.
“What do you mean James lost them?”
Scott looked away from the map and into Dylan’s face. “James was outside in the limo when the men left with Lacy. He followed them until they made him and they sped away. Traffic was heavy and he couldn’t follow since he was driving the limo. James and several of our investigators are scouring the area to see if they can find the vehicle.”
Uncle Tate handed Josh a piece of paper. “But he did get this.”
Dylan peered over his shoulder at the license number. Josh asked, “Do you know who owns the vehicle?”
“It was reported stolen yesterday.”
A drop of blood oozed through the bandage and dripped onto Scott’s shirt. He was pale and his eyes were a bit wild. “Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look very well.”
Director Tate exclaimed, “He needs to go to the hospital.”
Dylan pushed him into a chair. “You could have a concussion.”
“I’m fine. My doctor is on the way.”
Grant asked Dylan, “Do you have any suspects?”
“I suspect Bret Robertson, but he is still behind bars.” Dylan asked Scott, “How about Larry Harris? Do you still have a man watching his house?”
“Yes, but he thinks Harris gave him the slip. A man with dreadlocks went into Harris’ house and came out ten minutes later. He hasn’t seen Harris since. He thinks Harris was wearing dreadlocks and the man’s clothes. He got the license number on the car but it was also stolen.”
Tate placed his hand on Dylan’s shoulder. “I’ve sent an agent out to the house under the pretense of arresting Harris for distributing drugs. Maybe his wife will give us some idea of where he might have gone.”
Scott added, “Michelle got a piece of one of Lacy’s abductors. She scratched him on the neck.”
“It takes days to get back the results of DNA testing. It might be too late for Lacy. We need to find her now.”
Dylan heard Michelle’s ring tone. Scott stood on shaky legs, fished into his pocket and retrieved Michelle’s phone. “Why do you have Fireball’s phone?”
“The attackers destroyed mine.” He looked at the number of the caller. “It’s my father.” Scott answered the phone. No one said a word as they waited to hear if Scott’s father had any news. “We’ll be right there.” He stuffed the phone back into his pocket. “They found the car.” He pointed to Baker Street. “It is parked at an old abandoned warehouse.”
Tate ordered, “Call your father back and tell him not to go inside. We are on our way.”
“He wouldn’t jeopardize Lacy’s life. He’ll wait on the FBI to handle things from here on out.”
Dylan pumped Scott’s hand. “Thanks for all the help, Scott. Stay here and get that head stitched up.”
Scott opened his mouth to protest, but his mother entered at that moment. Obviously a doctor, a tall man carrying a black bag accompanied her. His mother ignored everyone in the room and skirted around the table not stopping until she had her son in her arms. Before the tears started, Dylan made a bee-line for the door. He was in a hurry to get to that warehouse where he hoped he would find Lacy unharmed.
****
Tied to a chair in an old abandoned building, Lacy feared what was in store for her. She had regained consciousness in the back of the car to find herself tied, and gagged. Every time she tried to sit up, one of her kidnappers shoved her back down in the car seat. Not one word was spoken by the three men while in the car, so she didn’t know where they were taking her or why they had kidnapped her. In the back of her mind, she couldn’t help but to feel Bret was somehow responsible. He was the only person who had a vendetta against her.
The man that shot Elijah sat on a wood crate ejecting the magazine from his pistol and then jamming it back in. The monotony of the noise was driving her crazy. She recognized him by his body build. He was broader across the shoulders and taller than the other than two men who kidnapped her, maybe six-two. A snake tattoo marred his upper arm.
As if he could sense she was watching him, he stood, turned, and glared into her face. He gripped the mask and jerked it from his head. She gasped in shock. A chill danced up her spine as she studied his face. It was the same face in the picture Scott had shown her. Just as Dylan had suspected, Larry Harris was doing Bret’s bidding for him. Tears burned the back of her throat. It was obvious they intended to kill her. They couldn’t let her live because she had seen his face. Her whole body began to shake.
The other man, who was heavier and approximately five-eight, nervously paced back and forth across the filthy wood floor. He wore a long sleeve shirt so she couldn’t tell if he had any tattoos. Deep fingernail marks on his neck glistened in the dim light where Michelle had scratched him. The sight of red against his black skin caused her to shiver.
He waved the gun he held in his hand through the air. “They have my DNA. I should have killed that bitch.”
“We were ordered not to kill anyone.”
“Then I should have cut off her damn hand.” Again, he stopped moving and waved his pistol around. “They are going to be able to identify me. I’m going back to prison.”
Ordered by Bret thought Lacy. Did he pay them to kidnap her? Were they going to kill her?
“Why’d you take off your mask?”
“It’s not like she’s going to tell anybody.” He pointed his pistol at Lacy. The second man removed his mask.
Not ready to give up hope, she decided to try to talk her way out of her predicament. “You are Larry Harris.”
She definitely had his attention now. In two long strides he stood only inches from her. “What did you say?”
She stiffened her spine. “You heard me. The FBI knows you are involved with Bret Robertson. Your brother is Lee Harris.”
He raked his free hand across his bald head. In the picture Scott showed her, he had thick hair. More than likely he shaved his head so he wouldn’t leave any evidence behind at the crime scene. Her stomach tightened and tangled as she waited to see what would happen next. It was the most intense game she had played in her life.
“You have not killed anyone yet. The only crime you are guilty of is kidnapping. Let me go and you’ll do little jail time. If you kill me, they’ll know it is you and they’ll put you away for life. You could get the needle.” She used every ounce of will she possessed to keep her voice from wavering. It was false bravado because she was actually scared to death.
The storm of emotion on his face proved he was worried. The other man shouted, “You can’t let her go!”
Harris placed his hands over his ears. “Shut up and let me think!”
“The FBI is probably at your house this very minute. They will arrest your wife. They will not rest until they find you.”
“Shut up!” He raised his hand in the air as if he were going to hit her. Lacy clenched
her eyes shut and waited for the impact.
“Don’t touch her.” Startled by the sound of a familiar voice, she opened her eyes, and twisted her neck to see behind her. The enormity of what came next hit her hard. Now all hope of surviving her ordeal vanished.
Bret Robertson stepped into her line of view. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, Lacy.” He stooped down, and ran his fingers over her wet cheek with a gentleness that had her quivering in fright. Rough and calloused fingers wiped away her tears. “I’ve missed you so much.” He kissed her cheek and she thought she would gag as her stomach clenched. “You are so beautiful.”
Curiosity overrode her fear. “How did you get out of prison?”
“You know how easily I make friends. I seduced Wendy Hare, one of the nurses in the infirmary. Poor thing was so lonely all I had to do was pour on the charm and I had her eating out of my hand. Obviously, Wendy is my favorite kind of woman; dull-witted, obedient, and malleable. She provided me with clothes and identification to walk right out the front entrance. A car was waiting for me,” he shrugged his shoulders, “and here I am. I’m free to start a new life. I won’t bore you with the particulars.” He checked his watch. “Sweet Wendy thinks she is catching a plane with me in the morning. I’ll be long gone before the authorities even know I have escaped prison.”
“You are despicable. You don’t care how many lives you destroy. You. . .”
“Don’t hold that against me. Prison has that effect on a person. I have had to be mean to survive. You and your boyfriend are responsible for my new outlook on life.”
Larry Harris interrupted, “We have a problem.”
Bret stood to his full height and gave his full attention to Harris. “I’m sure there is a solution. Tell me what’s got you worried.”
“She knows who I am. She says the FBI is looking for me.”
“Now Lacy, why are you scaring my friend?” He placed a finger over her lips. “You need to keep that beautiful mouth shut.” He placed his arm across Harris’ shoulders. “Everything will be okay. The FBI only suspects you of wrongdoing. They have no evidence.”
His words seemed to appease Harris. He didn’t seem so agitated. “We have another problem. The woman with the curly hair scratched Dale. They have his DNA.”
Bret got red in the face. “Why does Michelle always mess up my plans? She should learn to mind her own business.”
Lacy smiled. “She is a force of nature.”
“Well, because of her, I’m going to have to do something I really didn’t want to do.” He reached behind his back and pulled a pistol from the waistband of his jeans. He swung around and shot the man Michelle scratched in the center of his chest. The explosion of the gun firing echoed through the room. Chills twisted up her spine. He stepped forward and loomed over the man’s dead body. “His blood is on Michelle’s hands.”
Silent tears cascaded over her cheeks. In all her life she had never felt more desperate to escape Bret.
Harris exclaimed, “You just killed my cousin!”
Bret stuffed the pistol back into the waistband of his jeans. “He would have talked. The moment the FBI questioned him, he would break.”
“Why do you care? You’re going to be out of the country.”
“No, but I do care about your brother. He has bent over backwards to protect me. If not for him, I would have died in that hellhole. He saved my life more than once. I don’t want my crimes leading back to him.” He hesitated. “Or you.” So many times she had heard Bret Robertson say he was not a murderer. He just proved he was capable of anything. Prison had definitely hardened him. He didn’t seem bothered in the least that he had just committed murder.
Obviously upset, Harris shouted, “He has two children. What am I going to tell his mama?”
Bret gave him a pointed stare. “Nothing. You are going to get rid of the body and no one will know what happened to him after he kidnapped Lacy Reynolds. No one will know what happened to either of them. We can put all this on him. No one will know you were even involved.”
Lacy’s heart began to pound in alarm. Too afraid to know, she didn’t ask what Bret planned to do with her.
****
The warehouse where Lacy’s abductors had left the car was empty. Her kidnappers must have had another vehicle waiting. All the agents had spread out to search the other buildings, but Dylan knew Lacy wasn’t in the vicinity. Her abductors left the car to throw them off their trail. He sat down on the curb and felt helpless.
His phone vibrated. He looked at the screen but didn’t recognize the number. He took the call. There on the screen was Lacy tied to a chair. For seconds he stared at the screen doing his best to see if there was any detail in the background to help him determine where she was being held. She didn’t say a word, only sat there looking into the phone while someone videoed.
“Hello, Agent Bauer.” His first thought was how Robertson had escaped from prison. He stood behind the chair where Lacy was tied. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he smiled as if he had just won the lottery. The fear on Lacy’s face caused his heart to break.
“Let her go.”
“You and I both know I can’t do that.”
“Walk to the corner of Montana and Lindsey Streets and get in the red Honda the moment you get to your destination. Do not alert anyone or Lacy will die. If I see one FBI Agent, she is dead.” He leaned over Lacy. “Remember, I have someone watching you.” The screen went blank when the call ended.
Dylan didn’t waste any time. He tapped his GPS on his phone and spoke the address. With a quick look over his shoulder, he didn’t see anyone in sight. Precious seconds ticked by as he debated informing Josh, Tate, and Stan that Robertson was the person who had abducted Lacy. In the end he decided to follow Robertson’s orders. It was possible his threat was real and someone was watching him.
Instead of walking like Robertson instructed, he took off at a dead run. By his GPS, he had about a mile to get to his destination. No one was on the streets in this part of the city. Only the homeless, drug dealers, and addicts frequented the streets and that was usually at night when they could hide in the shadows.
It was so hot and muggy it felt as if steam was rising from the concrete sidewalk. Sweat drenched his shirt by the time the two street signs came into view. He could see the red Honda pulled to the curb. He opened the passenger side door and climbed inside.
“Throw your phone out the window.”
Dylan lowered the window, and tossed his phone on the sidewalk.
“Now your gun.”
Without saying a word, Dylan pulled his pistol from the holster he wore around his waist and threw it out the open window.
“Now the one from your ankle holster.”
Dylan gritted his teeth as he leaned over and removed his pistol from his ankle holster. Now he didn’t have a weapon left. He felt powerless without his pistol.
He estimated the driver to be about six-foot in height. If he was nervous, he didn’t show it. Thin, long blond hair stuck out from under his Duke baseball cap. The silence grated on his nerves as he sat back in the seat, his mind racing. He wanted to ask questions. He wanted to know what Robertson had in store for them. He had seen the driver’s face and would be able to identify him. Without a doubt, Robertson planned to kill them. He wouldn’t leave any witnesses.
Thirty minutes passed before the driver stopped the car at an abandoned warehouse. “Raise the garage door.”
Dylan opened the door and got out of the car. He leaned over and grasped the handle and shoved the door over his head. It was heavy so it took a lot of strength to raise it high enough for the car. While the man sat in the car watching his every move, strategies played out in Dylan’s head of how he was going to save Lacy and hopefully himself from a certain death. Things were not looking good for him. He had no weapon and was sure Robertson wouldn’t let his guard down.
Dylan stepped to the side and waited for the driver to pull the car inside. The man exited the car
and lowered the garage door engulfing them in darkness. It crossed Dylan’s mind to overtake the driver, and get his weapon. But then he feared what Robertson would do if he were nearby and heard the scuffle. In the end he decided to wait.
Both Dylan and the man followed a long, dark windowless hall by the light of a flashlight the man had retrieved from his pocket. Smells of urine and trash were strong. More than likely the homeless used the old building. Garbage and refuse littered the floor. The man opened a huge metal door that grated on its hinges and stepped to the side for Dylan to enter. The first person he saw was Lacy tied to a chair in the middle of the room. Desperation showed on her face. Without a doubt she knew Robertson had something sinister planned for them. He had to give her some hope.
“Don’t worry, Lacy. I’ll get us out of this.” A small smile appeared on her lips. Still her eyes showed her fear.
Robertson stood at her side, a pistol in his hand. “What do you want?”
He waved the pistol toward Dylan. “I want vindication. I wish I had time to make love to Lacy. Nothing would give me more pleasure. I feel cheated because you ruined her and I wasn’t her first.” He closed his eyes and a wicked smile showed on his lips. “I bet she was amazing.”
Dylan’s blood pumped hard. Should he rush Robertson? He wouldn’t have a chance because the other man was standing directly behind him with his gun drawn. “Put the gun down and walk away. I have no way to call for help. You can get away, start a new life.”
“You took my freedom from me. I’m going to take something from you.” He pressed the pistol against Lacy’s head. “As long as you and Lacy live, I will never be able to start a new life.”
Dylan took a step forward and placed his hands in the air. “Don’t shoot her. She’s the victim. I’m the one you want to punish. I’m the person who put the drugs in your car. I convinced Sherry Wallace and Tonya Callicutt to give a statement. Lacy had nothing to do with your incarceration.”
Dylan took another step toward Robertson. “You say you love her, let her go.” Panic was rising in him. If he didn’t do something and soon, he was going to kill Lacy. He didn’t dare look into her face. If he did, he would lose what little hope he had to get them out of this predicament.
Blood of the Falls (Twelve Oaks Farm Book 4) Page 25