“This guy Roylston was the one that pulled the trigger?”
Heath played the scene over in his mind again. There had been too many variables in play. He hadn’t been expecting to be found, hadn’t been expecting Lauren to be there, and he hadn’t expected everything to turn so violent so quickly. His first instinct had been to get Lauren safe, not identify the shooters.
But he felt certain he’d seen Roylston’s face revealed in the muzzle flashes.
“Yeah, I think so. Things happened pretty fast once they arrived.”
“Sisco getting dropped like that is gonna send a message to the rest of Gibson’s bodyguards. They’re all expendable.”
“I know, but something about the shooting doesn’t feel right.”
“What do you mean?”
“Back at the jail, Sisco’s partner came to pick him up. If he’d been worried about Sisco talking, he could have opened fire on both of us.”
“Maybe Lauren ran the van into him before he could.”
“No. He had time to shoot. He was trying to protect his partner. Doesn’t make sense that he would kill him so easily a few minutes later.”
“His partner probably got picked up by the police out in front of the jail. He probably wasn’t even there, so he didn’t have a say.”
“Maybe not, but his response felt different than those guys back in the alley. Roylston and his crew came to kill somebody.”
“Could be you triggered that reaction out of Gibson by confronting him.”
“This wasn’t Gibson. He’s too interested in gaming me. He’s a guy who wants to taunt every chance he gets, then slide the knife in slow. If you met him, I bet you’d read him the same way. This thing tonight was a burn. Roylston, if that was him, was happy to sacrifice one of the bodyguards in an attempt to get me.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It does if Roylston doesn’t like the way Gibson is dealing with me. The guy’s got the money and the connections, Jackson. He could be in the wind, gone too far and too fast for me to follow. My pockets aren’t as deep as his. He could leave me at the starting gate. Instead, it’s like he’s baiting me.”
“All the more reason to regroup and bring it home, buddy.”
“I know. I’m giving that some serious thought.” Heath gazed back at the bathroom. “I need to get Lauren clear of this whole mess before she gets hurt.”
“Good. Because I’d like you to come home, too.”
Heath peered out into the darkness, but he wasn’t seeing it. He was seeing that crime scene with Janet. “This guy killed Janet. I can’t let him get away with it.”
“He’s not going to get away with it, bro. You know you’ve got the right guy. Now it’s just a matter of police work.”
“Police work’s not going to reach from Atlanta.”
“We’ll find something. We’ll keep turning things over till we do.”
“You and I both know that the captain put everything we could into that investigation. There was nothing at that scene that ties to Gibson. We don’t even know what his real name is, and without probable cause, we won’t be able to get it. We haven’t been able to get through his lawyers.”
“I know, but I also know all of this takes time.”
“I’m putting pressure on him here. Things are happening.”
Jackson sighed. “You’re gonna get hurt there, Heath. That woman is going to get hurt. You don’t want that to happen.”
Heath didn’t reply, but he knew it was true. Protecting Lauren Cooper was becoming very important to him.
“You put enough pressure on Gibson down there that you almost got killed. This guy isn’t going to let anyone interfere with his games, and he’s got a group of heavy hitters working for him. You’ve seen their rap sheets same as I have. They’re not guys you want to meet in dark alleys.”
“They won’t get me again like that. The tracker surprised me.”
“Heath, the next time Roylston surprises you, it might be from behind with a bullet into your ear. Step back from the ledge. Get some perspective.”
Everything Jackson said made sense. Reluctant as he was, Heath knew it was the right thing to do. “Okay.”
The water in the bathroom stopped running.
Heath sat up a little straighter. “I’ve got to go.”
“Fine. Give me a call in the morning. Let me know when I can expect you here.”
“Will do.” Heath hung up the phone and sat in the darkness crowding the room.
* * *
“I’m not leaving.” Feeling somewhat refreshed from the shower, Lauren stood in front of Heath. She hadn’t known what to expect when she stepped out into the room, but she had certainly not expected him to still be there, though she hadn’t liked the idea of him leaving. She just thought he would have.
Heath sat in the chair at the table. His elbows rested on his knees as he leaned toward her. “This isn’t about just you leaving this time, Lauren. It’s about us leaving. It’s not safe here. Gibson or Roylston or someone else will be gunning for us.”
“You mean, they’ll be gunning for you. They don’t know I was involved.”
“You don’t know that.”
“They’re not here.” Lauren hung on to the outrage she felt. That emotion was the only thing getting her through the residual fear left inside her. “If they knew about me, I think they’d be here right now.”
“Maybe. And maybe they’re biding their time because the heat is on them right now because of Sisco.”
She shook her head. “You’re not going to scare me. I’m not going to let you.”
“Now is the time to be scared.” Heath spoke in a level tone that Lauren hated. He was making too much sense. “This response tonight, it was way more than anything I figured would happen. Gibson is hitting hard and fast.”
“That’s fine. That’s what we want him to do, right?” Lauren knew she was right and held to her conviction. “Come at us and make a mistake?” She thought hurriedly. “In fact, can’t that shooting in the alley be used against him? Aren’t the police going to investigate him because one of his people was killed?” A chill ghosted through her as she said that. She wrapped her arms around herself to stay warm. The heat from the shower was already leaving her, but she was still hypersensitive to Heath’s presence.
He pointed at the television. “Gibson’s people have already got their story in place. Sisco was grabbed outside the jail by persons unknown. Gibson’s lawyers say he doesn’t know anything about it and random acts of violence aren’t his responsibility. Since Gibson has nothing to do with the case, he’s not going to get involved.”
“What?” Lauren couldn’t believe it.
“The police can’t do anything but question Gibson about his employee. There’s nothing to tie Sisco’s death to him.”
“Gibson’s people killed that man.”
“Maybe.”
“I saw Gibson’s bodyguard there. He was the one firing the gun. I can testify to that.”
“Are you sure it was him?”
“Yes. You saw him, too.”
“I saw a guy that looked like him. Without physical evidence that concretely says Roylston was there, it would be our word against his. A good attorney will bring up the fact that the alley was dark, that bullets were flying, that the headlights were in our eyes. Those are all things you can sell a jury on, if it ever got past a judge, and you can bet Gibson’s attorneys won’t let it go that far.”
“If we go in, we can tell them he was the one that killed Sisco. If Roylston knows we’ve identified him, he might get scared. He could plead out and tell the police Gibson sent him there to kill Sisco in exchange for a reduced sentence.”
“Did Gibson send Roylston there? That’s a jump. This could be something Roylston did on his own to protect his security perimeter. Or maybe Gibson sells Roylston out and says Roylston was working on his own. Again, this might not roll back over onto Gibson. On top of that, Roylston’s a mercenary. He’
s not going to be able to work in his field if he gives up his employer. He gets paid to take the hits. I think he’s going to like his chances of running free better than a trial.”
Frustrated, Lauren realized that was true.
“Even if the police believed us and arrested Roylston, he’d be out on bail and gone before his trial. Either he’d be out of the country, or maybe Gibson would hire someone else to take him out, if he didn’t trust him to keep his mouth shut.” Heath’s voice remained a soft growl. “Even worse than that, if we offer testimony about what Sisco said and the fact that Roylston might have been there, we’d have to explain what we were doing there in that alley.”
Lauren closed her eyes in defeat. She hadn’t thought of that.
“We’d have to admit we kidnapped Sisco. The police know the man was taken. We’d end up in jail before Gibson did. And I don’t think anyone would be interested in testimony from admitted kidnappers working on an agenda to pin your sister’s murder and my partner’s death on Gibson.”
“So we’re screwed, is that it? We know Gibson did it and we can’t touch him.” Anger crept up inside Lauren and outweighed the residual fear that caromed inside her.
“Sisco said that Gibson killed those women. But for all we know, he was lying. Maybe he was the killer and was framing Gibson, and Roylston just executed him tonight to put an end to everything. There might not be any more White Rabbit killings.”
Lauren pinned him with her gaze. “Do you think the killing is going to stop?”
Heath returned her gaze full measure for a moment, then he blew out a disgusted breath and shook his head. “No. Whoever killed Janet and your sister and all those other women, he’s gotten a taste for blood. Could be he’s always had it. Whatever the case, it’s not going away. I don’t believe Sisco was the killer.”
“So we’re just supposed to pack up and leave? That’s your answer?”
Heath spoke softly, rationally, and that came close to infuriating Lauren. “Leaving is the best thing to do.” He paused and shook his head. “Believe me, I don’t like it any more than you do.”
“What happens to the next girl that Gibson goes after?”
“We need to regroup, find a new way to go at this.”
“You’re just giving him time to kill again. You’ve already said that his timetable is accelerating. How many women can he kill while we’re regrouping?” Lauren answered before Heath could. “I don’t know if you can answer that, but I can tell you this—even one person is too many. You can leave if you want to, but I’m staying.”
Slowly, Heath stood and came over to her. “You’re a stubborn woman.”
“No.” Lauren looked up into his eyes, and she remembered the kisses in the back of the taxi. For a minute she thought he was going to try something like that again. “I’m just right, and you know it.”
“You are right. So we’ll play this out until we’ve got the answers we’re looking for or we’re in jail.” Heath looked at his watch. “You should get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to start early.”
He walked over to the bed, and Lauren briefly thought he intended to stretch out on it, which didn’t sound as awkward as it should have. Instead, he pulled a pillow from the bed and crossed the room to the couch. He lay down, kicked off his shoes, and placed the big revolver under his pillow.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m not leaving you alone tonight. That’s not happening.”
Lauren wanted to protest because she didn’t like the idea of Heath invading her space, but she also didn’t want to be alone. Reluctantly, she walked to the bed and stripped off the top blanket, then gave it to Heath, surprising him. He didn’t say anything, though, and Lauren was glad. She didn’t know what he would say, and she definitely didn’t know what kind of reply she would make to anything he said.
She returned to the bed, pulled the blanket and sheet back and crawled in before shutting off the lamp. Darkness enveloped them and quietness filled the room.
For a long time, she lay there listening to Heath breathe. After a few minutes, his breathing deepened, and she knew that he had gone to sleep. She felt tired and she wanted to go to sleep, but memory of the shooting and the way Heath had kissed her in the back of the taxi danced in her head, keeping her alert and thinking until sleep finally claimed her.
Chapter 13
Bright sunlight slanting through the heavy curtains woke Lauren. She shifted in bed and tried to doze off again, but then she spotted Heath Sawyer’s lanky body overrunning the small couch at both ends and knew she wasn’t getting back to sleep anytime soon.
He slept like a kid, on his back with one arm folded over his eyes. Sometime after he’d gone to bed, he’d taken off his shirt and lay there naked to the waist. His body was hard, his chest was broad, chiseled from working out, and the sight of that smooth, bronze skin awakened a hunger in Lauren that she’d never felt before. She made herself look at his face, but she couldn’t maintain her concentration.
Giving up, she got out of bed as quietly as she could, knowing that he needed his sleep. He’d been putting in a lot of hours watching over Gibson, and that had gone on for days before she had joined him.
He turned slightly on the couch, and the blanket drifted farther south. That movement caught Lauren’s attention, but his shirt hung by itself on the back of a nearby chair, so she guessed that he was still partially dressed. However, the scar on his left side was revealed. It was pale white with age, but stood out against the tan skin and was at least five inches long. She knew it wasn’t from an appendectomy, because it was on the wrong side and ran too vertical.
The scar and the tan both made her curious because she wanted to know where he’d gotten them. The tan looked real, gotten from working outside, not from a tanning bed, and a homicide detective didn’t often have cause to take his shirt off at work.
Blood spatters had ruined his shirt. Lauren felt a queasy roll in her stomach just for a moment, then she forced the feeling away. She was surprised that no one had noticed the blood last night, but it had been dark. There was no way Heath was going to be able to walk around in daylight without someone calling the police.
And staying in the hotel room all day, as intriguing as that seemed given the sparks that had flared between them last night, wasn’t something Lauren was prepared to risk. The hunt for Megan’s killer was complicated enough without pursuing whatever that had been, and she was more than willing to admit it was a mistake brought on by adrenaline.
She knew she needed to get out of the room, away from Heath Sawyer, and clear her head. A brief shopping spree would serve as a good distraction.
Lauren grabbed khaki pants and an orange pullover that she knew fit her nicely and flattered her figure. She headed to the bathroom.
* * *
Heath’s cell phone woke him with a start. He rolled over on the couch, feeling the aches from sleeping in the cramped space, and grabbed the cell from the floor by the couch. He pulled it to his ear. “Hello.”
“Good morning, Detective Sawyer. Sleep well?”
At first, Heath didn’t recognize the caller because he’d never before heard him on the phone. “Who is this? How did you get this number?”
“It wasn’t hard. I got your friend Janet’s number, too.”
“Gibson.” Heath recognized the carefully enunciated words and laid-back tone then. Gibson was giving a performance.
Heath threw the blanket off and sat up on the couch. He pulled his gun from under the pillow and looked at the hotel door. The interior locks were no longer in place. A trickle of fear snaked down his spine. He glanced over at the bed and saw that it had been made.
Lauren was gone.
Heath got to his feet and shouldered the phone. He walked toward the bathroom, fearing what he might find in there. Even though it didn’t make sense that Gibson or his men could have gotten into the hotel, much less known where it was, it also didn’t make sense that they would kill Lauren and leave him ali
ve.
Except now he’s playing games with you. He’s moved into a new phase of his killing.
“You can call me whatever name you want to. I’ll answer to it.”
Heath rounded the corner to the bathroom with his revolver at the ready. He peered into the room, but it was too dark to see the shower. Flipping on the light switch beside him, his pulse beating at his temples, he looked at the shadows created by the white shower curtain.
There was no blood on the floor. If Lauren had been killed like Janet, there would have been blood everywhere. Heath crossed the room and whipped the shower curtain back. When he saw that it was empty, contained none of the horrors he’d imagined, he let out a long breath.
“What do you want, Gibson?” Turning from the shower, Heath padded barefoot back into the room, looking for some indication of what had happened to Lauren.
Since the bed was made, he felt she’d left of her own volition. The neatly made bed also made him realize how soundly he’d slept. He’d stayed the night to protect her. Some bodyguard.
“I regret having missed you last night.”
“You didn’t miss me. Your people missed me. They didn’t miss your buddy Sisco. I didn’t see you there last night, so I suppose you keep your killing to women.” Heath gripped his pistol tightly and looked around the room, finally turning and spotting a note on the mirror of the vanity outside the bathroom.
Went shopping. Back soon. L.
Shopping? Heath held back a curse and kept himself calm with effort. Last night should have taught Lauren the danger they were in.
“You made a mistake last night.” Gibson’s anger was apparent in his tone.
“No, I didn’t. It’s just going to be a matter of time till I bring you down.”
“That’s what your partner thought, didn’t she? It didn’t work out for her. It won’t work out for you.”
Gibson broke the connection before Heath could reply. He checked the view screen and only saw Unavailable there. He tried to reconnect the call, but it kept failing out. Cursing, wishing he knew where Lauren Cooper was, he called Jackson Portman.
No Escape Page 13