A Critical Tangent

by Reily Garrett

  Fate would finally convince the detective of her innocence.

  Karma made sure she wouldn’t get to gloat.

  Chapter Twenty

  Keiki woke to the sound of soft whimpers and the distinct aura of fear pressing in from all sides. Panic invaded every aspect of her emerging consciousness.

  Both eyes snapped all the way open to focus on Gabby, whose unmistakable whisper added a smidgeon of light to their darkened confines. Her friend’s jeans were ripped and covered with dirt while shreds of her shirt hung askance under her jacket. The brave smile she wore fooled no one.

  From her viewpoint, she could see treetops through a high and narrow grimy window. “Any clue as to our location? Hell, we could be on the cul-de-sac of a development for all I know.”

  “I have no idea, Keeks. Sorry.”

  Attempts to shake off the firm band of metal clamped on her wrist directed her full attention to the handcuffs as opposed to the hard dirt floor comprising her resting place.

  Scooching her body back and inching her numb fingers along the attached chain links, she found the metal ring attached to the wall mere feet away.

  Glancing around, she estimated the entirety of the space comprised a twelve-foot square with a wooden door set on one side. A small bulb inside its wire cage offered weak light from high in a corner.

  In lieu of speaking, Keiki scanned the perimeter to get a better idea of their predicament. Block walls with tiny windows set high signified their location in a basement with one possible exit. The door.

  Vestiges of fear saturated her underarms and between her shoulder blades. The scary movies she’d loved to watch came alive around her in the gravelly jabs of dirt in her hip, the musty smell of damp block, and the dark foreboding in her chest. “Gabby?”

  “I’m alive. That’s something.” On a small square blanket, Gabby lay curled in fetal position. In sitting up, she offered the first sign of inner strength.

  “The last thing I remember is being shoved in the backseat of a car and Porter sticking me in the shoulder with a needle.”

  “I’m scared. He told you his name?” Gabby hissed in a subdued voice.

  Without words, they both understood that significance.

  Keiki nodded. “Yeah. Since he wore a mask, he might not have given his real name.”

  Or they could’ve been leery of Nolan waking up and seeing their faces.

  “Are you… injured?”

  A trembling smile crossed her roommate’s face, as if knowing the final outcome yet to play out. “Nothing that won’t heal. Will anyone know you’re missing?”

  Keiki’s odd hours and loose schedule allowed her freedom from strict routine. Depending on Nolan’s survival, no one would miss her until Tucker or Harock came looking, which could mean weeks or even months.

  “Actually, I was with a cop when we got ambushed.”

  “Is he… dead?”

  “I don’t think so. I think they’re planning on framing me for everything.” Keiki had no guarantee the thugs hadn’t killed her detective. Odd how she’d come to think of him as belonging to her.

  “Jesus, Keeks. I’m so sorry to drag you into all this. It’s all my fault.” Sniffling interrupted by hiccups testified to flagging courage.

  Keiki could just make out her friend’s tear-stained face in the few rays of early morning light. She’d obviously been held prisoner for days, her mahogany hair hanging in limp tangles about her face and shoulders.

  According to one of Tucker’s lectures, the yellow tones in her cheek’s bruises indicated the injuries occurred at least eighteen to twenty-four hours prior. The red and purple shiners denoted fresher injuries.

  Gabby’s attempted bravery covered a world of pain, but they needed to collaborate and work together to form an escape plan. Guilt and explanations could wait.

  “Can you describe the prick who took you?” Keeping her friend talking would prevent Gabby’s mind from turning inward.

  Odd but descriptive details identified Porter and formed a more complete picture in Keiki’s mind. She still hadn’t seen his face.

  Gabby scooted on her butt a little closer.

  The fact her friend wasn’t tied down remained a mystery until she cradled her right arm against her chest.

  “How bad are you hurt? I need to know to plan our escape.” Keiki nodded to the cradled injury before scrutinizing their prison again. “There doesn’t appear to be any type of surveillance in place.”

  “Not in here.” The odd tone required further questioning, later. “My wrist is broken.” A spark of defiance, indicative of expanding intent, lit her determination.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing, Keeks. Now, how do we get out of here?”

  “How many of them have you seen?” She knew of three dirtballs, the two who carried Nolan off and Porter, who’d shoved her into a car.

  “I’ve seen two, but I think one left.” Shame lengthened Gabby’s face, her jaw opening while her good hand covered her mouth. “Porter’s the one who… questioned me.”

  The one-word emphasis combined with Gabby’s physical state testified to unimaginable horror.

  “Gabby, did he,” she swallowed, “rape you?”

  Her roommate turned away before murmuring, “There’s another room down here. It’s where he takes me.”

  “He’s got balls.” Anger flooded Keiki’s veins, blistering her thoughts and filling her mind with hatred.

  The man would die. It would be brutal, and with as much pain as she could inflict. “God, I’m so sorry. Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  “You happen to have a key?” Sarcasm flickered to life as Gabby closed the distance and offered a one-armed hug. Her one-footed scoot indicated injury to the other ankle.

  “Of sorts. Yes.”

  “Thank God. I’ve been thinking for days that I’d die down here.”

  “Gabby?” Keiki nodded toward her friend’s ankle.

  “It’s fine. Let’s make a plan.”

  It was all the incentive Keiki needed. Her thoughts flashed to the picture on her bedside, the grit and determination written in Nolan’s face. If she survived this ordeal, she’d damn well act on the tentative feelings growing between them.

  “How often does Porter visit?”

  Glassy eyes stared in the distance as if willing the answers to come. “At least twice a day. Once to feed me. The other to, um, ask questions in the other room.” Using her good hand, she made an impatient gesture, a show-me sign indicative of prior strength. “You mentioned a key?”

  “These cuffs don’t feel similar to Tucker’s, but I’ll get us out.” Escape no longer equated to a parlor trick. It was survival. If she could unlock the cuffs, it would help even the odds when their kidnapper returned. They’d have to move fast and quiet.

  Preparation for the break-in at Harock Industries had included arming herself with her mini arsenal of supplies. At the moment, her belt was worth a million bucks. Due to its special design, removal wasn’t necessary to access the specific tools hidden within the small compartment.

  If she survived this, the paltry stock would grow exponentially. Tucker was in for some lengthy Q&A time, while Nolan’s self-restraint would suffer serious abuse.

  What Nolan would say when she gloated about how she and her friend escaped crossed her mind.

  “The idiot kidnappers thought you college kids were nerds and partying airheads. You were lucky—this time. Go back to school and act like a student.”

  It was time for his wake-up call.

  “What does Porter want from us? He searched my apartment but I’ve no idea what he was looking for. He didn’t get too far before a cop showed up.”

  Her friend’s gasp filled the moment’s silence. “He wants to use you to make me talk. Did the officer…?”

  “No. He’d worn his vest, but did have to undergo surgery. He’ll be okay after therapy. So, what does Porter want?”

  “They want my formula.”
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  “What? What formula?”

  “Keiki, I never meant for you to find out. Things aren’t what they seem. Professor Bayler and I have been working on a project. Please don’t ask for details. You’re not involved in it. Not really.”

  “What the hell? What do you mean, not really? My life has turned upside down. Trust me. I’m involved. What have you gotten us into?”

  “You know I hover at the edge of the party scene. There’s a reason for it. I’ve been working on a formula to improve a drug the kids are using.”

  Keiki shot back until her shoulders hit the wall. “What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me? Most of all, Gabby, why?”

  “At first, it was a challenge. Something I could do that others couldn’t. I wanted to prove myself, to know that I could do it.” Shoving limp hair from her face, she continued, “Do you remember Janquin?”

  “Yeah, she died of an overdose. Everybody in school remembers that.”

  “She was a friend. Listen, Keeks, kids are going to take drugs, no matter what. It’s a fact of life. I thought I could make it safer.”

  “Jesus. Drugs? I knew you smoked a joint now and then, but I never figured you’d be involved in this shit.”

  “I didn’t want to see this look on your face, the disappointment. I swear I only wanted to help.”

  “Porter wants this formula?”

  “Yes. He’s also looking for a distribution list, which I don’t have. I’m not involved in that, but I’ve heard a bit from my friends.”

  “For Christ’s sake. Who’s distributing?”

  “I’m sorry, Keiki. I’m so sorry. “

  “Who, Gabby?”

  “It—it’s Franklin Harock.”

  “What? Since when?”

  “I don’t know. As I said, I’m not involved in that side of the operation.”

  “So, they think you have this list and want to use me to make you talk?”

  “That and, well, Franklin wants your drones to deliver the drugs.”

  “No.”

  One sentence, so simple and short, splintered the rest of her world. She had nothing left, nothing real and honest.

  It was a wound from which she’d never recover. “No wonder the cops are all over this.” Memory of specific questions from Coyote and Nolan and their skeptical acceptance of her statement came to mind. “Oh my God. Harock has ruined everything I’ve worked for in one fell swoop. But why’d they kill Shelly? That makes no sense.”

  “They wanted to send a message to Harock. He’s the man behind the scenes, playing us all like puppets.”

  “I thought it was a case of mistaken identity.” Devastation crumbled her world with the realization even her surrogate family had turned on her, used her for their own ends. She was the ultimate throwaway orphan.

  “Was Shelly involved?”

  “She knew nothing about it.” Gabby reached out then retracted her hand when Keiki flinched away.

  “This formula, where is it?”

  “I wasn’t going to give it to him, but I will now that he has you. You shouldn’t have to pay for everybody else’s mistakes.” After retreating to her blanket, she pulled a filthy notepad and pen from between its layers.

  “What are you doing, Gabby?”

  “Giving him what he wants.”

  “No. He’ll kill us when he gets it.”

  Gabby paused. “Not if we stay one step ahead of him. I’m counting on your resourcefulness to unlock those cuffs.”

  “We’ll need proof to take to the cops.” Determined, Keiki cleared her mind to envision the inner mechanisms of the cuffs. She worked a slim pick from her belt into the hole to first disengage the double lock bar, then placed enough pressure on the single lock bar to nudge it off the arm’s ratchet teeth, allowing her to push the cuff open.

  Rubbing her wrists restored circulation. She’d expected the pins and needles sensation, but not the accompanying pain.

  Gabby went on, “I have a flash drive with my notes on it. It’s in the place where we first met. Remember the loose brick?”

  Memory of their trio’s grade school encounter remained embedded in the deepest recesses of Keiki’s heart. A treasure for all time, not to be tainted from time or events.

  “I remember wanting to brain Calvin with that brick. Is it still there?”

  The small, deserted school had undergone transformation and expansion as time and necessity dictated a modern building take its place. The county’s resource center held departments for various regional offices along with classes for special needs children.

  “Yes. It contains all the information you need, an insurance policy against Harock drawing you into his freaking web of lies and deceit.”

  Jingling outside their door warned of the kidnapper’s return. Keiki snatched the cuff and draped it over her wrists before realizing she and Gabby were on opposite sides of the small confines. She’d make it work.

  The prick would have to turn his back on one of them. Under current circumstances, Keiki was the strongest.

  The door opened with a low groan and a whoosh of less-stale air. Milliseconds drew out, once again narrowing her focus to the smallest details.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Backlighting shadowed the visitor’s face, but the shape was unmistakable. Broad, muscled shoulders took up a large portion of the small opening.

  “Hola, mi cariño.” A confident swagger pointed to his need to flaunt both power and strength.

  “Hey, asshole,” Gabby sneered with false bravado.

  Porter swung his attention to his first captive.

  In a show of defiance, Gabby shoved the small notebook behind her. The increased distance would force Porter into a more vulnerable position in leaning forward to retrieve it.

  Low, soft chuckling indicated his amusement. Murmured threats went unheeded until she grabbed his shirt with both hands and pulled him forward and off balance. Her scream demonstrated one part pain and two parts rage.

  Keiki bolted up as her friend used her good hand to hit and scratch. Nothing motivated a victim more than the will to survive. Fisting both hands together, she slammed the meaty side of her clenched fists against Porter’s skull.

  A short grunt coincided with his sprawling to all fours.

  “Time to test our theory, Gabby.” With as much speed and strength as she could muster, Keiki drew her foot back and aimed for the soft bits between his legs. Pent-up rage and fear intensified her force, the result sending her kidnapper toppling forward with a high-pitched yowl.

  Gabby grunted, then wiggled out from under his weight.

  “Hypothesis proven. He’s got balls. C’mon, let’s get out of here.” He was too big to take on, even if her roommate wasn’t injured. The best she could manage was straightening his legs and slamming the metal cuffs around his ankles.

  In shock, he turned to see her jump out of his swiping grasp. “You’re gonna pay for that, smartass bitch.”

  They had no weapons, no fighting skills.

  “C’mon Gabby. Time to go.”

  Porter reached into his pocket.

  For a key?

  “Go, Keiki. I’ll follow. Get moving!” Desperation and a certain sadness sent the message loud and clear. She couldn’t.

  “My ankle is broken, too.” She confessed. “Don’t wait. I can keep him busy for a bit. Go, damn it! I’m the one with the information he wants. He won’t kill me.”

  Tears blurred Keiki’s vision in the sallow light leading to freedom. From the hallway, she looked back to see Gabby’s frantic scrambling to knock the key from Porter’s grasp.

  He slammed her down, but she rolled her body back and used her remaining strength to attack as she screamed out, “Go, Keiki. Now!”

  Dirt and cobwebs covered the block walls leading up decrepit wooden steps. Her prayers were answered when the door at the top opened under her urgent wrenching.

  Behind her, remnants of scuffling, curses, and a distinctive thump of flesh hitting flesh filled her ear
s. As long as she heard Gabby voicing her rage, she knew her friend fought tooth and nail.

  The basement opened to a seventies-style kitchen, complete with avocado-green cabinets, cracked and chipped tile flooring, and a door leading to the outside.

  Other than filler space, the room had no apparent use. Thick layers of dust covered every surface to further the creepy ambiance.

  Drawers stood open and empty, the countertops bare except for several dead cockroaches. No proof of anyone having cooked in the space confirmed its function. Several cabinet doors hung by a hinge. No knives, no weapons.

  Mullioned glass panes in the back door’s inset allowed a limited view of thick forest beyond. Without a deadbolt to slow her down, freedom was mere feet away. It took a second to thumb the old-fashioned lock open once her friend’s scream cut short. Keiki’s fingers shook.

  Porter wouldn’t kill Gabby without having the formula and the distribution list. If either was incomplete, Gabby should survive. Keiki, on the other hand, was expendable, but could send help if she escaped.

  Heavy boots thundered up the steps even as she jumped off the back porch into knee-high weeds. Snakes and other critters presented less threat than the roar echoing from inside the house.

  She was a runner, in decent shape, and motivated. The hounds of hell couldn’t instigate more incentive to flee. Her wild dash for cover led to a deer trail winding through the thickening forest.

  Behind her, the sudden bark of a gun punctuated Porter’s low laugh filled with the promise of torment and suffering.

  The dull thud of the bullet hitting a nearby tree compelled her to duck while running. Her heart hammered in her chest and her breath came in quick pants.

  Blind panic pushed her through barbed vines seizing her shirt and flesh. At this rate, she’d leave a bloody trail any search and rescue dog could follow.

  The thought of snaking her way in and up an evergreen tree held merit until she thought of Porter getting ahead of her and meeting her when doubling back. He had the advantage of knowing the terrain.

  A stitch in her side forced her to stop and catch her breath while leaning against a tall oak. Once she put greater distance between herself and death, her mind would clear enough to form a plan.