by Rena Koontz
Agent Crews returned with a street map of the general warehouse district. “There are at least seventy-five buildings in a three-mile radius,” he said as he spread out the diagram in front of her. “Where did you last see Jake?”
The maze of dots and lines and words blurred. She’d awakened inside the warehouse, hanging from the ceiling, so she hadn’t seen the outside of the building. And she couldn’t reconcile the streets with her actual escape route. “I’m sorry, I’ve always been directionally challenged. I can get lost in the mall. This map might as well be written in hieroglyphics. I can’t identify anything from this. Why can’t I retrace my steps with you and take you back?”
“It’s too risky, Miss McElroy. I can’t take a civilian into a tenuous situation.”
“The way I see it, Agent Crews, you don’t have a choice. And the longer we debate the matter, the more danger Jake could be in. I beg you. Let me help.”
His massive chest expanded with air. When he exhaled, she detected a hint of peppermint on his breath. “Can you describe the interior of the building? Are there windows? Doors? Any idea how many?”
That she could do. She’d hung there for hours, struggling to bear her weight on her toes and cringing in pain in those brief moments when she lowered her feet to rest, thereby straining her shoulder sockets. One mammoth, dark-haired man with a rifle dangling over one arm sat in a chair near the door, half snoozing, one eye trained on her. In no time at all she overcame the embarrassment of being on display in her underwear and had even taken a minute to regret that she hadn’t matched the blue lace panties with the white demi-bra that day. Not that her captor recognized the fashion faux pas.
And then, as if Jake whispered in her ear, she’d studied the room, recalling his advice when they rode the bike to the country bar. He’d said it was always a good idea to know your surroundings in case of emergency. Her situation certainly qualified. She’d had enough time to memorize the interior of the warehouse.
“I saw one door in the front of the building and one at the back. Two double garage doors side by side are also at the front. Four windows along the front and two half windows in the rear but they were boarded up, I think. No light shone through them. There was some type of door on the ceiling with a rope and handle hanging from it, like you see for access to an attic. And two interior doors, like office doors, both of them on the left side of the building in the rear corner. Fluorescent lights run the length of the building in three rows. Cement floor. I’m not good at judging distance but I’d guess the size of the entire place is about half a football field.”
Agent Crews’ eyebrows shot up. “How do you recall all that?”
Heat crept across her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze. “Jake said it was important to pay attention to your surroundings. I didn’t do such a good job the first time I was robbed but I tried to pay closer attention after that and provide better details for you but you didn’t believe me. And while they were waiting for Jake, I just hung there, looking around.”
Agent Crews threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, Miss McElroy, you’re a precious gem and a bright light in an otherwise dark situation. Excuse me. I have to make another phone call.”
She wanted to scream at the exchange of phone calls, none of which she was privy to, that ate up precious time. The door remained partially ajar and Agent Crews threw up his hands, shook his head and punched the air while he spoke into his cell. Finally, he rolled a wheelchair into her room and a nurse helped her into it.
No one spoke until they were in the front seat of his unmarked car and he started the engine. “We’ll return to the convenience mart where the police found you and start from there. If you can back track your escape route to the warehouse, we’ll take it from there. You’ll stay in the car once we get there until I can have a local remove you safely off the premises.”
Fat chance she’d let that happen, not with Jake so close. Mackenna strained to look behind them, noting only blackness. “We who? There isn’t another car to be seen.”
“Don’t concern yourself about that. Is there anything else you can remember, any minute detail that might help Jake?”
She shut her eyes tight but nothing surfaced.
“You say he was in his underwear?”
“Yes. That doesn’t ever faze him, though.” The admission that she’d seen Jake in his underwear prior to her abduction caused her face to flush and she was thankful the car interior was dark and Agent Crews couldn’t see her. Even as dark as that moment was, when she didn’t know if she would live or die, she’d appreciated the man’s body as he strode toward her, knowing her hands had touched every inch of it. And her lips. Please, God, give me one more chance to love the man.
She directed Agent Crews to drive slow, crawling through the streets once the convenience store was at their backs. “Turn here.” “Wait, back up, down this alley.” Each directive was whispered, even though only she and Agent Crews were in the car. “Around this corner.” “Down here.” And then suddenly, there it was. Her heart filled in a flood of fear.
The warehouse was dark and loomed like a menacing monster. Agent Crews dialed his phone and recited coordinates he read from a dashboard navigator.
Mackenna squirmed in the passenger seat. “What do we do now?”
“Just wait.” With one eye on the building Agent Crews leaned toward her, unlocked the glove box, and removed two long metal objects. Bullets in a clip or a magazine, whatever it was called. He shoved them into his pants pocket. Then he stepped out of the car, went to the trunk, and retrieved a vest that he strapped on and a shotgun. Once he slipped into the vest, he returned to the driver’s door but remained outside. The windows were down, the night unnaturally quiet.
From out of nowhere men materialized and trotted by the car on either side, hunched down. Silent. Where did they come from? They wore gray long-sleeve shirts and matching camo pants tucked into ankle-high boots. How could they move so stealthily in those heavy shoes? Thick helmets were strapped to their heads and bullet-proof vests protected their chests. Each lugged a backpack, wore dark gloves, and had guns strapped to both legs. And they carried intimidating looking rifles.
Agent Crews leaned inside the driver’s window and pointed his finger at her. “You stay in the car until a uniformed officer comes to escort you away from here. And Miss McElroy, if you don’t go with him, I’ll charge you with obstruction of justice.”
Before she could reply, he straightened and took off after the SWAT team. Suddenly, the whop-whop-whop of a helicopter sounded overhead, and she strained to see out the passenger window. The helicopter hovered over top of the building and she counted four men climbing down ropes and dropping onto the roof. Like a synchronized ballet, their feet no sooner touched the roof than an explosion lit up the night at the rear door and in the front of the building. An orange glow illuminated the dark, enveloped in gray smoke that clouded the entrance and spread like rolling fog. With the flames as a background, Mackenna watched the SWAT team rush the building, a hail of gunfire splitting the nighttime silence. The noise deafened her. The acrid smell of explosives gagged her and her eyes watered.
She jumped out of the car in an effort to inhale more air, her eyes riveted to the scene. Men yelled orders that were incoherent to her and high-pitched screams pierced the night. Somewhere behind her, sirens approached.
A movement to the left of the building caught her eye and she squinted, trying to focus. One lone shadow crept along the side of the building, crouched low to the ground. A SWAT team member checking the perimeter? An earlier transmission over the car radio reported the perimeter secure.
Inside the warehouse, mini explosions blew out the boarded windows and fingers of flame cut holes in the roof, stretching toward the sky. And still, the shadow crawled away from the building.
Mackenna ran around the rear of the car for a cle
arer view. She couldn’t make out a helmet, or a weapon, or anything that indicated this person was a SWAT member.
No!
In the glow of the flames, it looked like Vincent. She caught her breath and whirled around, searching for someone to tell. They were all so well disguised, she couldn’t distinguish one body in the night. Did they see him?
She spun back to the spot she’d last seen movement. Nothing. The flames roared in her ears. The radio. She could warn them. She jumped into the driver’s seat and stared at the mini-computer mounted to the dashboard. No visible microphone hung from it and when she touched the screen, it awakened to display the blue and gold FBI insignia. Headlights flicked on where she’d last seen Vincent and white back-up lights confirmed the car moved.
She couldn’t let him escape. This was a man who’d threatened her and may have killed Jake. Spying the car keys in the ignition, Mackenna started the engine and threw the car into drive. All the anger she’d suppressed these past weeks over that bastard Arthur, the spineless bank robbers who’d pointed guns at her, Mr. Gleaner for trying to exploit her, and possibly Jake’s death—it all surfaced, bubbling up in a rage.
She floored the gas pedal and drove straight toward the moving car, screaming like a banshee. “No-o-o-o-o!”
With the headlights shining inside the car, she saw Vincent turn, a look of terror on his face. And she rammed the driver’s side of the BMW.
Airbags exploded around her, stopping her propulsion through the windshield with such force she passed out.
Chapter 32
Her head pounded and a bright light overhead blinded her. Mackenna immediately shut her eyes tight.
“I think she’s coming around.”
She rolled her face in the direction of the sound.
“Miss McElroy? Can you hear me?”
She raised her arm to shield her eyes from the beam and felt the drag of a wire.
“Careful, ma’am. You have an intravenous line running in your hand. We wanted to push fluids into you. How do you feel? Can you speak?”
Her mouth moved like a cow chewing its cud. Whoever was beside her must have noticed. “Here. I’ll prop up your head and you can sip some water. See if that helps.”
Strong hands moved behind her shoulders and lifted her and a straw touched her lips. Mackenna opened her eyes cautiously, glad that the man’s body blocked the direct light. “Where am I?”
“You’re in an ambulance, ma’am. Do you remember what happened?”
Did she? She drove a car as if possessed and T-boned Vincent’s black BMW, determined not to let him get away with hurting Jake. Her eyes widened and she bolted upright. “Jake! Did they find Jake? Is he still alive?”
And now that deep, intimidating voice she recognized, coming from outside the double doors. “We found him and just in time, thanks to you.”
Agent Crews. Somehow, knowing he was close reassured her. She searched the darkness until she found him and offered a tentative smile, and then grimaced. Her face hurt. “Is Jake okay?”
“He was barely conscious but all he could do was repeat your name. The fact that his name is the first thing out of your mouth tells me you two might just have a thing going on.” Agent Crews laughed as he shook his head.
“That was the damndest thing you did, Miss McElroy, crashing into that car like that. You could have been hurt a lot worse than you are. We had the area secured. He wasn’t going anywhere.”
She hung her head. “I-I didn’t know. I couldn’t see anybody. I didn’t want him to get away. I’m sorry.”
Now she’d probably have reckless driving added to the myriad of charges against her. What if she had to pay for the damage?
The smile on Agent Crews’ face confused her. “Before you arrest me, may I see Jake, please? It’s the only favor I’ll ask, Agent Crews. I need to tell him something, something important.”
Thankfully he nodded. “I think that can be arranged. Jake already has been transported to the hospital. He lost a lot of blood and needs surgery.” He issued his orders to the paramedics. “Transport her there, too, and see that she receives whatever treatment required. I’ll have an agent meet you at the hospital.” Then he looked at her again. “I’ll see you there.”
The doors slammed and in minutes, the ambulance moved. Mackenna strained to see out the back windows and marveled at the kaleidoscope of colors shrinking to become less threatening. Red and blue flashing lights reflected off the orange and yellow flames being attacked by firehoses.
Hours later, a doctor pronounced her battered and bruised but not broken. She rested in the hospital bed, waiting for word about Jake. Because she wasn’t a relative, neither the doctors nor nurses were permitted to share any information about his condition. She’d asked the agent posted outside her door but he declined knowing any news and said Agent Crews was en route.
When the big man finally burst into her room driving a wheelchair, she was glad to see him.
“Jake required surgery for a bullet wound to his thigh and shoulder. He’s out of recovery and being moved to a private room. And he’s insisting he see you. I’d like to see the two of you in a room together myself.” He extended his hand to help her sit up and then dropped to his knees, sliding slippers onto her feet.
“Don’t blame Jake for any of this, Agent Crews. If you need to arrest someone, arrest me. Jake is nothing but an innocent victim in all of this.”
Rising to help her off the bed, he harrumphed. “The day Jake Manettia is innocent of anything will be the day I resign.”
He referred to Jake as Manettia. Was that his real name? Not Manfred, the name she’d seen on the TV screen the day the FBI arrested him? Was he one of those criminals who used aliases? Or was he . . .?
Before she had time to sort through her thoughts or to ask, the elevator opened and Agent Crews moved down a hall peppered with police and into a room guarded by a man looking much like the agent who guarded her room. Jake was under arrest, same as her. He couldn’t be a cop.
Agent Crews showed his identification and signed a clipboard, which he showed to Mackenna and asked that she sign next to her printed name. Then the guard opened the door and Agent Crews wheeled her inside.
Three men circled the foot of Jake’s bed. Their conversation ceased the minute she entered the room and all eyes, including Jake’s, turned on her. He was pale but his face exploded into a giant grin and he reached for her when Agent Crews moved her close to the bed.
“Hey, sugar. I’ve been worried sick about you.”
Jake looked horrible, his left eye swollen shut and a gash along his hairline held together by five stitches. His right arm was in a sling and at least five colored wires disappeared into the neck of his hospital gown, all attached to various monitors that beeped and pinged in a mechanical serenade.
“Oh my God, Jake.” Despite her resolve to be strong, she burst into tears.
Jake tugged on her hand and coaxed her out of the chair. He patted the bed. “Sit but be gentle. This is the leg that has to heal.” He removed the oxygen hose from his nose.
She was too distraught to speak. She perched on the edge of the bed and when he tucked his hand behind her neck and urged her close, she cried on his chest. Through the breakdown, Jake smoothed her hair and reassured her he was fine and everything would be okay. Finally, she sat up, only then realizing that all four men remained in the room although they’d had the decency to step toward the rear. Now that they were felons, privacy was no longer an option.
Jake’s thumb swiped the last bit of tears from her cheeks. “Feel better?” She nodded and he handed her a tissue. “Blow.” She felt imminently better once her airways were cleared.
“They tell me you’re ready to try out for NASCAR, although Demond is quite upset that you wrecked his car. He’s facing a lot of paperwo
rk because of you. But don’t worry, I might be able to pull a few strings with the boss.”
She shook her head, speechless. How could he joke when they were both facing criminal charges? “I didn’t have a choice. Vincent was getting away. I had to stop him. I thought you were dead.”
Jake moved the hair behind her ears. “Why didn’t you run away when you had the chance?”
“I was running away when somehow Vincent’s men found me. You made me so mad when you didn’t believe me about the bank robberies.”
“But you had a second chance to get away after you got out of the warehouse. Instead, you turned yourself in.”
She glanced over her shoulder at the men listening to every word of her private confession but there was nothing to be done about it, “I realized I’m in love with you and I couldn’t leave without at least trying to save you. I thought if I disappeared, in time I’d forget you but I know now that was foolish. I don’t think I’ll ever forget you.”
Jake placed his hand on his chest. “I’m crushed, Kenna. You love me and you run away from me? That’s not how it’s supposed to work, sugar.”
From behind, one of the men spoke. “It wouldn’t have helped anyway, miss. Jake’s like a bad dream. He keeps coming back. We’ve tried to get rid of him and it doesn’t happen.” The men chuckled.
So, he’d been arrested before. No wonder they all seemed so familiar.
Jake sighed. “Mackenna, let me introduce you to this crew.” One by one he named them, prefacing each with the title special agent. “You already know Agent Crews.” He squeezed her hand. “Time you knew me too. Special Agent Jake Manettia of the Alabama Field Office, here on assignment in Brighton City.”
Her eyes widened and her breathing stopped. “I knew it! I knew you were some kind of a cop.” She swatted the arm that wasn’t injured. “Damn you, you lied to me. The whole time, it was all a pretense to prove I was a bank robber. And you slept with me. Isn’t that some kind of ethics violation? I’ll sue you or something. You used me, you bastard.”