After realizing if she went to bed this early she was liable to wake up in the middle of the night, she decided to watch television. After lying down and making herself comfortable, she picked up the remote control and turned the TV on.
Something was wrong with her set, though. It appeared she had left the DVD player on. Now she’d have to wait for the disk to load before she could push stop and eject it. Otherwise, her ancient player would freeze up.
Only instead of the menu appearing, the movie itself began playing.
It was a little grainy, and it took a couple of minutes for Haley to realize what she was looking at. She swung her feet around and sat up.
It was a split screen with two opposing angles of the interior of some kind of store. Since gas pumps were visible through the window behind the young woman at the counter, Haley surmised it was a convenience store.
Suddenly the shape of a man’s head went across the edge of the picture, so quickly it was impossible to tell anything about it. A second man—one she easily recognized—walked up to the counter and set a small jar of coffee on it. Then her heart began to pound harder when a third man appeared, this one brandishing a pistol.
Everything happened so fast. Beau somehow scrambled around behind the counter, and the young woman had disappeared behind it as well. Then, suddenly, there Beau stood, seemingly vulnerable to the man with the gun.
The scary man was yelling something at Beau, and it appeared Beau calmly answered him. Then, both of their attention seemed focused on the back of the store for just an instant before the criminal began yelling again.
Beau was speaking, but he was clearly talking to the woman on the floor beside him. Haley’s heart stuttered when the woman suddenly stood up. She just stood up. Beau spoke to the man again, and the crying woman said something, too. More words were exchanged between the two men. Then it happened.
Tears came to Haley’s eyes as she saw her fiancé be shot. Even wounded, Beau managed to pull the trigger, and the other man dropped to his knees. The criminal managed to fire one more time before he fell prone on the floor. This one hit the woman’s head, and she dropped down behind the counter. The screen went black.
How had this movie been on her TV? Had Beau somehow left it so she would see what happened to Kari Jeffries? As soon as the thought occurred to her, she knew he wouldn’t have. Beau would never want Haley to see such violence.
“I’m sorry I didn’t fix popcorn.” Haley nearly jumped out of her skin as she whirled to see who was speaking. “I don’t know where you keep it.”
“What?” Haley had to be having an award-winning hallucination. That was the only explanation for how Wyatt Millan was standing in her living room, a nasty looking gun aimed at her. “You’re dead.”
“No, I’m not, you silly girl.” Wyatt grinned cheerfully for a moment before sadness washed over his face. “Harding Davis killed my brother. He didn’t kill me.”
Haley started to stand up but halted when he gestured with his free hand that she was expected to remain seated. “I don’t understand any of this.” She fought back rising panic and took a deep breath. “Why are you here? Why did you want me to see that movie? And what are you saying about a brother?”
Wyatt responded by covering his ears with both hands, the pistol awkwardly clutched in one. “Don’t ask me that many questions. I can only hear one at a time.”
For just a second, Haley considered trying to make a run for it. But he would be able to aim the gun and shoot at her in seconds. She’d just try to deal with the strange man. "Okay." Why are you here?”
His answer was quick. “Father told me you don’t understand about my sister. If you understand, maybe he’ll let me keep you.” A look of satisfaction appeared on his face. “You saw it, so now you know.”
Father? His sister? What was he talking about? “What do I know?”
He suddenly pointed at her feet and giggled like a little boy. “Your feet look funny in those shoes.” Then just as suddenly, his frown returned. “Harding Davis told my sister to stand up. He got her shot.” His eyes pled. “You have to know, or I can’t keep you.”
Wyatt’s mannerisms and speech finally sank in. Haley realized she was dealing with a deeply disturbed individual. She kept her voice calm and firm.
“You need to leave now, Wyatt.” She felt a little encouraged when he broke eye contact for a minute, but when he looked back up, there was a new look of determination on his face.
“I’m keeping you.” He pulled something out of his jacket’s pocket. “I won’t mind Father this time. You’re smart. You’ll learn about Harding Davis.” He was impossible to deal with.
“Just leave, Wyatt. Right now.”
But Wyatt wasn’t listening. Instead, he walked toward her, and she now saw he held a syringe. ”I’m keeping you. You can come with Father and me.”
Gun or no gun, Haley wasn’t going to sit there and let him inject who knew what. She jumped to her feet and smacked his arm as hard as she could. When the gun fell to the floor, she thought she had a chance. He had too tight of a hold, though. Even as she scratched and clawed at his hands and anywhere else she could reach, she knew he was too strong.
“I’m a doctor.” He wasn’t even breathing hard, and before she could take a breath, a sharp needle entered her arm.
Even knowing nobody could hear her, she screamed. “No!" She felt herself weakening and knew she was in trouble. “No.” Once more, she tried to convince him to stop. “Please, Wyatt. You can . . .” What could he do? Her head was spinning, and his arms felt too tight wrapped around her. 'N--" As her world disappeared, she wondered if this was what death felt like.
Chapter 55
Hardy had never felt such conflicting emotions in his life. He had just gotten off the phone with Elliott, and Audrey Dohner had turned herself in. She and her boyfriend would both present evidence and testify against Ted Dohner, with a small concession. Somehow, she discovered Hardy was alive, and Audrey would not follow through with her promises until she met with him. He didn’t know how Haley would handle that.
And there had been no sighting of Rob Weston. A car registered to him was discovered in the parking lot of a large mall in a Chicago suburb, but a close investigation showed no sign of the man. If Mitch hadn’t insisted Hardy take a few hours off to spend with Haley, he’d still be out on the streets looking for his dad’s supposed friend.
Hank had radioed in from his car just two hours earlier that Haley was safe and sound at home, and had promised to stay there. He called the diner, where Nancy had been happy to fix up a nice take-home dinner for them. He didn’t want to share his fiancée with the world tonight; he was determined to enjoy dinner with her before he had to get back on the road. It was going to be a long night.
Hardy moved the cardboard soda holder into his left hand, catching it with his fingers under the foam trays so he’d have a hand free to knock on the door.
His smile faded when he didn’t hear her footsteps approaching the door from the other side. He knocked as hard as he could. Blood pounded in his head as he tried the doorknob, and he was literally blinded for a moment when it easily turned and the door swung open.
Instinct took over. Hardy dropped the food and pulled his pistol.
“Haley, answer me please!” he called out as he stepped into the room. He was met with dead silence.
A quick sweep of the apartment told him what he already knew. Haley wasn’t there. His blood ran cold when he saw her purse on the floor by the fish tank. She often dropped it there while she talked to her fish.
He spun around, searching the living room for any signs of what had happened. His gaze froze on the television. There, on the screen, was an image he immediately recognized. It was the split-screen view of the convenience store. And it was paused on the still image of Kari Jeffries and himself just seconds before she was shot. A small piece of paper was stuck to the corner of the screen.
Hardy strode over and pulled the paper off. H
is blood ran cold as he read it.
You took something from me. If you don’t come alone, I’m going to take Haley away from you.
An address Hardy didn’t recognize was written on the bottom of the paper. What was he going to do? Of course, he would go. And he would go alone. But he hadn’t been a cop for over ten years without learning a thing or two.
“Hardy?”
Hardy spun around, his pistol aimed, to see Matt standing just inside the door.
“He took Haley.” Hardy let his hand drop to his side. “Rob Weston has Haley.”
“No!” Matt’s voice was full of agonizing disbelief. He evidently cared more about Haley than Hardy realized. “Where is she? We have to get her back.”
Hardy knew he wasn’t thinking straight. He should call Mitch and wait for backup. But this was Haley who was in danger. Maybe already . . . No. He wouldn’t allow himself to go there.
“I have to go alone.”
“Let me go with you.” There was a tone in Matt’s voice Hardy had never heard his friend use before. “I can help. I know what to do.”
Hardy looked on in disbelief as Matt reached behind him and produced a pistol. “What are you doing?”
“I have to get Haley away from that man.” Matt leveled his gaze at Hardy. “Now, you can either waste valuable time arresting me, or let me leave with you right now. What’s it going to be?”
There wasn’t time for Hardy to deal with legalities. “You’ll call Mitch Landon while I drive us there.” He was at least going to get reinforcements. Legal reinforcements.
“Okay.”
Hardy led Matt out of the apartment, knowing fully well he was breaking the law by taking an armed citizen with him. But he didn’t care. Haley was in danger, and he had to get to her fast. Because Rob Weston wanted to hurt Hardy, and what better way to do so than to make him watch Haley be hurt or killed.
He could care less about the legalities; he’d gladly take any kind of repercussions as long as Haley was okay.
Father, protect Haley. It was all he was able to pray, but he knew, with God, all things were possible.
Chapter 56
Haley’s eyes snapped open. Something smelled awful. Then she realized Wyatt was waving a small bottle under her nose. Whatever it was had at least revived her.
She tried to hide her alarm when she was unable to move. It was only when she started to speak she realized with horror she was gagged.
“I’m sorry.” The disturbed man set the bottle of stinking ingredients, which smelled like a mix of vinegar and who knew what else, on the floor. She tried to pull her tightly bound hands away when he knelt and placed his over them. and "I just need you to listen to me. People don’t listen to me very well if they can talk.”
What was the matter with this man? Haley pulled at her wrists and ankles, but the man who somehow had to be Wyatt had bound them too tightly to the uncomfortable chair. And it was a good thing Haley hadn’t eaten her dinner because were she to throw up with this gag in her mouth, she could very well choke to death.
She had to remain calm. Panicking wouldn’t do her any good. If she could figure out why Wyatt brought her . . . Where was she? She looked around the room, and her heart went to double-time as she recognized the location. Wyatt had brought her to the laundry on the south edge of town. It had gone out of business after only six months of operation simply because of its poor location. People chose to visit the facility closer to the mall.
Surrounded by three noisy factories, she doubted if more than a few people remembered it was here. Wyatt had chosen well; nobody would see or hear anything that happened.
If she hadn’t already had her suspicions about Wyatt’s sanity, the wire laundry cart with carefully folded shirts and towels in it would have shown her. It appeared the owners hadn’t gotten around to having their appliances unhooked, so Wyatt had decided to multi-task. He’d just do his laundry while holding Haley hostage. The thought brought on a fit of hysterical laughter, which wasn’t easy with a gag in her mouth.
Wyatt responded immediately, his brows furrowed with worry. “Are you laughing at me? Please don’t laugh. I’m not like Jim. I sit quietly at church, and I mind my manners. I even use please and thank you. Did you hear me use them?”
His words coupled with a childlike look of earnestness only added to Haley’s hysteria. She knew she should feel sorry for him, but it was difficult. He appeared to be an expert turkey trusser and didn’t seem to have any intentions of letting her go.
It didn’t help at all when he stomped his foot. “Stop that right now, or I’m going to tell! You’ll be in just as much trouble as Harding Davis if I tell on you for laughing at me. And he’s in a lot of trouble for telling my sister to die and killing my brother.”
What had he said? A sister? Haley was finally able to get her laughter under control. “Please take this gag off.” Of course, her spoken words sounded more like gargling than speech.
“So, I see you managed to get her here.” Haley’s eyes quickly swept left and focused on the man standing there. She had no trouble recognizing Rob Weston. None of this was making any sense, and she was tired of it.
Since she knew her words would be unintelligible, she contented herself with a hostile glare aimed directly at him. Logic was soon replaced by pure outrage when the older man laughed at her.
“You’re both crazy!” She didn’t care if they couldn’t understand her words. She at least had the pleasure of saying them.
“My son told me you’re a spitfire,” Weston calmly observed.
“Jim called her a spitfire.” Wyatt’s slightly defiant voice reached her ears. “I said she’s special, Father.”
Son. Father. Sister. Things started to click into place, but Haley still couldn’t believe it was true. But from what Wyatt had said . . ."Beau tried to help Kari Jeffries!”
“I think your special girl has something to say.” The cold gray eyes looked disinterestedly at her. “Why don’t you take that gag off? It might be amusing to pass the time listening to her blather.”
“I’ll blather you!” She nearly bit Wyatt’s hand as he pulled the now untied cloth out of her mouth. “You’re a coward, Mr. Weston, hiring men to do all of those evil things. And somehow you’ve convinced this sick man your lies are true!” She turned her attention to Wyatt. “You have eyes, Wyatt. You can see for yourself in that film Beau tried to keep her hidden. I don’t know why she stood up, but she did it despite Beau, not because of him!”
“It’s okay.” Wyatt crooned like he was speaking to a baby. “Father says after Davis is dead, I can keep you. You’ll like living in the islands. And you’ll get used to being with me. I’m a lot nicer than my brother.”
“That’s enough, Tim.” Weston’s voice sounded anything but paternal. “We still have to take care of Davis.”
Haley was all too aware of what “taking care” of Beau would entail. “What do you hope to accomplish?” she demanded of Rob Weston. “None of this will get your daughter back!”
“But you can be my new sister,” Wyatt announced as though he’d just given her the title of Miss America. “So Father will have a daughter again.”
“Wyatt, listen to me.” She ignored Weston. “You’re sick. Let me help you.”
The immediate rage on the disturbed man’s face told Haley she had made a critical error. “I am not sick! Not anymore! Father let me quit taking my medicine when Jimmy died!”
“Okay. I’m sorry.” Haley tried to soothe him.
“She’s upsetting you, Tim.” Rob Weston’s fake consoling voice made Haley want to gag. “She won’t make a good sister. Go ahead and put her in the special room.”
“But, I wanted to watch—“
“You can join her later.” The true feelings of the monster toward his son had shown up. Only, Wyatt would never realize a pack of gum probably meant more to Rob Weston than his son.
Haley had no idea what the special room was, but she was certain she didn’t want to find
out. “You don’t have to do that, Wyatt.”
“Good boys always mind their fathers,” he blandly announced before walking over and grasping her shoulders from behind. “Always.”
Despite Haley’s protests and pleas, Wyatt somehow managed to scoot and tug her across the room, knocking her over several times along the way. She amped up her efforts when she saw the barely visible door in the darkness of the corner.
Haley felt like a ship that had been bandied about in a storm-ridden sea. “I don’t need to go into the special room, Wyatt.”
“Didn’t you hear Father? I can come back with you to see the fireworks. You’ll like it.”
After some more awkward maneuvering and near topples, Haley found herself in some kind of utility room. She could barely see from the dim light cast through the door.
The lights came on, blinding her for a minute.
“I don’t like the dark,” Wyatt announced in his childish voice. “But when I come back, I promise to shut the lights off before the fireworks start.”
“Wait.” Her eyes traveled frantically around the room and froze in disbelief on an item sitting beside a large water heater. “Is that a bomb?”
Wyatt giggled. “That’s the fireworks maker, silly.”
Haley wasn’t an expert, but she was pretty sure the “candles” she was looking at were sticks of dynamite. And what appeared to be a telephone cord was somehow fastened to them. The other end of the line was connected to an alarm clock. A Mickey Mouse alarm clock.
“I don’t need fireworks. You can take them with you.” She’d try anything at this point.
Wyatt’s response was more laughter. “You have to be quiet now.”
Once more, Haley struggled to the best of her abilities, but from his pocket he pulled a cloth and . . . Was that the Lone Ranger mask? As he manhandled her, getting the gag back in her mouth, she said a quick prayer of thanks for not getting another injection. It was probably good that he gagged her first. Otherwise, the bright yellow smiley faces over the eye holes of the mask would have set her off, and she wasn't sure it was a good idea to laugh at him again. That didn't stop her from fighting, though.
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