Killer Assignment
Page 6
Yet, with the right funding, the project had such incredible potential. So many of his inventions did. One night he’d been praying, down on his knees, begging God to help him see a way forward, when he found himself thinking about the small patch of land his grandmother had left him. It was an island, in fact—only a few thousand square feet—set inside a lake on the Shields property. Big enough for a family home, not much more. It was the only piece of the Shields complex his father didn’t own.
Initially, Mark had gotten an almost selfish pleasure from knowing it was there, a burr in his father’s side. A reminder that the almighty Jonah Shields didn’t control everything. But down on his knees, beside his workbench, he’d sensed he needed to check his attitude. The resentment needed to go. He needed to swallow his pride and offer it back to his father, having faith that whatever he’d get for it would be enough to carry TRUST through whatever came next.
Once he’d set his mind to do it, the sense of spiritual peace that he’d felt had made everything seem clear. But now the whole situation seemed so murky it was hard to see how God could have ever been guiding it.
“What’s that?” Katie’s voice broke into his thoughts.
He looked down and realized he’d twisted the strap through the fingers. A small but heavy silver medallion hung down into his palm. There was a shield in the center, crisscrossed by a sword and a cross. “My grandmother gave it to me when I was a teenager.” He ran the tribal patterned braided leather through his fingers, thinking about why she had given it to him, what it had meant. “I threw it away almost immediately as part of my rebellious teenage phase and thought I’d lost it forever. But when she died, I discovered she’d somehow found it and saved it for me. She also left me a tiny plot of land, my grandfather’s watch and the money I used to start TRUST. Oh, and her family Bible. She was the only one in my family who believed in God and the only one who believed in me.” He dropped it into her palm. “Would you believe the pendant is actually a GPS tracker in disguise? My grandmother bought if for me when the technology first appeared on the market.” Her eyes opened wide. “Oh, it’s been disabled for years. Believe me, I scanned it first chance I got. Probably couldn’t turn it on now if I wanted to.”
He stretched out his hand toward her. She tied the band around his wrist, her fingertips brushing against the inside of his palm. He pulled his hand back, looked down at it thoughtfully. “I used to run away a lot, and as much as I wanted to just leave, escape and never return, there was also something comforting about knowing I could never be totally lost.”
* * *
Katie leaned her head against the window as Mark eased the truck down the long unpaved road and then out onto the empty, rural highway. She was pleased to see the two police cars stationed at either side of the road, no doubt looking for the white van that had tried to abduct her the night before. She’d tucked her wallet into the outside pocket of the borrowed jacket and zipped her slim phone into the jacket’s small inside pocket. The bag of clothes was stored with Mark’s bags in the back of the truck.
“That eucalyptus cream I told you about is in the glove compartment, by the way,” he said after a while. “In case you want to try it.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m telling you that you won’t burn, and the bugs will stay away, too.” He grinned. “It’ll even help your skin retain its heat if you decide to take an impromptu swim. This is what I love most about what we do—finding those simple solutions.”
There was a small white jar inside the glove compartment. He was right; it smelled wonderful. She tentatively rubbed some on her hands. Then she spread it down her arms before smoothing it onto her face. She put the jar away then glanced over at Mark again.
He seemed distracted, preoccupied. She read it in the lines on his forehead and the way his eyebrows would come together as if listening to an unsettling voice in the back of his mind.
Fair enough. She was feeling pretty unsettled, too. And not just because it seemed someone had first tried abducting her and then spied on her. Their middle of the night conversation in the dining room had really rattled her. She’d long given up on trying to build a relationship after finding far too many men simply didn’t understand why she would turn down an evening out to write long into the night or give up her Saturday to cover a story. That didn’t mean she was a workaholic. Just someone who loved what she did. But Mark’s question of what she’d do if she couldn’t rid herself of Ethan sat like a rock in the pit of her stomach.
Towering forest and harshly hewn rock spread out in front of them, blending into an endless expanse of gray and green, red and gold and with the occasional dash of blue. Her job had cost her what so far? Sunday morning church? Close friendships? The chance at a real romantic relationship? If Al and Billy really had been after her press credentials for the Shields event, her job might have even put her life in danger. What would it demand of her next?
“I’m sorry I dragged you into all this.”
“I’m not.” He smiled, the sun lighting up the green of his eyes. “In fact, I’m really thankful I was there.”
“Me, too. I just hope I didn’t mess up your plans.”
Again, that look of concern crossed his face again. But all he said was, “Don’t worry about it. What time is your event?”
“Four. But that’s just a media meet and greet. The real thing starts tomorrow. There’s a media brunch in the morning, then some free time we can use to tour the grounds and finally a huge gala at night. Thankfully, Celia was able to find a dress that will pass as a gown. You can just drop me off at the hotel whenever we get there, and they will send a car for me.” She watched as his mouth opened and then quickly shut it again. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just working through some stuff, and I’m not really ready to talk about it with anyone.”
“Okay.” She reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “Well, I’m happy to listen if you change your mind.”
A wide grin spread across his face. He really did have a wonderful mouth. Wide and expressive, like it was an overflow from the joy he was feeling inside. “Can I ask what was on the piece of paper Celia gave you?”
“Sure.” She dug into her pocket. “In fact, you might appreciate it. It’s a copy of Psalm 139. I’d told her that I was feeling lost in life, in general, and she gave it to me as a reminder that God always knows where I am.”
“I always remember that one on rough plane flights,” he said. “I like the bit about, ‘If I rise to the heavens you are there. If I make my bed in the depths you are there.’”
She laughed. “Celia prayed it last night when you ran outside to confront that stalker. She wanted me to remember that no matter where we are and no matter what happens that God always knows where I am.” Now, if only she could actually get herself to believe that. She glanced at the medallion on his wristband. “How much traveling do you do?”
“Tons. It feels like we’re always on the run somewhere.”
Katie leaned her head back against the seat. Yeah, she knew what that felt like. But her life was more like a treadmill. Always running. Getting absolutely nowhere. “Must be amazing to build your own company.”
“I’m not so much building a business these days as trying madly to keep one from falling apart. Things have been rough. Donations are down. The cost of travel is up. We’re being pinched from all sides. Some days it almost feels like we’re just moments away from disaster.”
Yeah, she knew that one, too. Silence spread out between them again, but it was a comfortable one. The landscape was lush but desolate. The road cut through towering slabs of rock. A never-ending stream of trees flew past the window, broken only by the rare glimpse of a lake or unpaved road.
She read through the words of the psalm to herself, her heart catching on the words, “All the days ordained for me were written in your book.”
As if reading her mind, Mark glanced toward her. “Are you sure you really want to cover this story? If you want to change your mind, I’m willing to drive you back to Toronto.” He’d said it cautiously as though he was approaching a land mine that was about to explode under his feet.
“It’s my job.” She winced. Why had she sounded so defensive?
“Okay, I get that. But if it’s making you unhappy or is putting your life at risk—”
“Doesn’t your job ever put your life at risk?”
He bristled. “That’s not the same thing.”
Right. It was all right for his job to be demanding and dangerous but not hers. “Look, when I was training to be a journalist I took a few overseas trips with a charity to see what kind of work they were doing. I visited refugee camps and saw the effect of countries at war with themselves. You’re not the only one who’s ever taken risks—”
“I didn’t say I was.” Okay, so he sounded frustrated now. “I know you’re plenty strong and brave. But this is different—”
“Why? Because Shields is using zoning laws and banking rules to ruin people’s lives instead of weapons? Have you heard of Langtry Glen? It was the last solid news story I covered before Ethan became the boss.”
He sighed deeply. “I have. But I don’t know much about it.”
“Did you know the buildings were all city-owned, subsidized properties run by Toronto Community Housing?” He shook his head. She kept going. “They set aside properties especially for people living below the poverty line either because they can’t find steady work or are on some kind of assistance. There were six apartment blocks, a few small businesses and a drop-in center for people trying to get off drugs and alcohol. It was this little oasis in the city for people who had fallen on hard times and needed a hand up.
“But then it started to have a drug problem. Rumor was a drug dealer had moved into the building and started supplying drugs to some of the more vulnerable, low-income residents—not to mention catching people coming to the drug program and tempting them to relapse.
“So the residents’ association went to their local politicians and to the police, asking for help in trying to root this guy out and make their community safe again. But somehow Shields Corp found out about it. Their lawyer argued before city council that Langtry Glen had become an unsafe blight on the face of the city. Shields Corp convinced the city council to sell them the entire block from the city so they could raze the buildings and turn it into luxury condos.”
She leaned back against the seat. “I was there the day Shields Corp dynamited the neighborhood. The whole place was reduced to rubble in seconds. People cried. Shields Corp never even built on the property and just left it as an ugly vacant lot.”
“You sound like you really hate Shields Corp.”
“Wouldn’t you? I imagine it’s the opposite of everything TRUST stands for.”
The road narrowed between two rocks again. Towering granite hemmed them in on both sides. Trees jutted out of the rocks above their heads. She shivered. Just moments ago the highway had stretched out to the horizon. The next it was all too claustrophobic. Was it her imagination, or did the towering pine sticking out ahead of them seem to be shaking? She forced a deep breath into her lungs and shut her eyes. Everything was going to be okay. Trees like that must have very strong root systems.
“Help us, Lord!” Mark shouted.
Her eyes jerked open to see a flash of green and brown as the tree hurtled down the cliff toward them.
SIX
Her body was thrown forward as Mark stomped on the brakes. The truck lurched sideways, spinning as he yanked on the steering wheel. There was the horrible sound of scratching against metal. Something smacked hard against her side of the truck. Then they slammed to a stop. Mark said something under his breath. She looked up.
The pine had missed the roof by inches. Katie tried to open her door, but it was wedged in the branches. Mark shoved his door open and jumped out. He walked around to the back of the truck, and she slid across the seat to follow him.
He held up a hand. “Hang on one sec. Something’s wrong.”
Well, yes. They were stuck under a tree. But even as she swung her legs out of the driver’s side door, there was a warning note in his tone that made her pause. “Well?”
“This tree’s been cut with a chainsaw.” He kicked at the trunk. “Looks like someone cut it most of the way through and then pushed it over.”
“Into the road? But—”
Too late, she spotted Billy scrambling down the rock side. He leaped on top of Mark, his feet landing hard on Mark’s shoulders. She screamed Mark’s name as his body hit the ground. Billy stood over him, a black bandanna wrapped around his mouth, like a highwayman of old.
In an instant, Katie had jumped from the truck. But before she could even take a step, Billy pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans. He pointed it at her head. “Get back in the truck or I’ll kill him.”
She climbed back into the seat.
“Now close the door, and don’t turn around.”
She shut the door, then slid the phone from her pocket and turned it on. No signal. And Mark’s phone was clipped to his belt. She zipped the phone back into her inside pocket. Her eyes slid up to the rearview mirror, shivers shooting through her heart as she watched Mark stumble to his feet. His hands rose slowly and calmly in the air.
A sickening giggle slipped out of the teenager’s mouth. He was high on something. She’d seen that dazed, unsteady look in Ethan’s eyes enough times to recognize the signs. There was an emblem on his bandanna, too. It was yellow and green and oddly familiar. But she could only see a small portion of it. A gang sign? A terrorist group?
Billy cocked back the hammer. He set Mark in his sights.
Mark turned toward her. His eyes met hers in the mirror—steady, brave. Then he turned back to the boy with the gun, his lips moved as he whispered something under his breath and he knelt down in front of the fallen tree. It looked like he was praying. She began to pray. too. Desperate words tumbled through her mind in free fall.
Oh, God. Please. No. His life can’t end like this. There has to be something I can do.
Her knee bumped against the key chain he’d left dangling from the ignition, and a single thought shot through her mind like a dart. One hand slid onto the gearshift. The other found the steering wheel. She grit her teeth and threw the truck in Reverse. The truck lurched backward. Billy spun around in fear as she braked inches from hitting them. Mark lunged at his attacker’s knees, bringing Billy to the ground. She couldn’t see what had happened to the gun.
Billy seemed to be swinging and hitting wildly, lashing out at Mark with everything he had. Mark was a stronger fighter, but she could also tell he was only trying to subdue the boy, not seriously injure him.
For a moment, the thought of jumping out to help flashed across her mind. But almost immediately she shoved it aside. She’d be more help by staying in the truck, especially if she could somehow position the vehicle so that Mark could climb back in.
Katie buckled her seat belt and reached for the gearshift. Too late she heard the passenger door slam and felt the paralyzing grip of a hand clamping around her wrist.
“Turn the truck around slowly, Katie,” a menacing voice said very close to her ear, “or I will kill you and your friend.”
It was Al.
Katie’s breath froze in her chest. Her brain screamed silently in terror.
“Now you will do ex
actly as I say.” There was a long, ugly knife in Al’s hand. He brought it up slowly toward her throat and brushed the tip of the blade against her skin. She nodded dumbly and slid the truck into Drive.
Oh, God. Help me. Her heart pounded into her throat, threatening to choke her. Tears of panic pushed hard against her eyelids. Fear coursed through her veins like adrenaline. But she gritted her teeth until her jaw muscles ached and forced herself to focus, filling her thoughts with a single mantra, which blazed in her mind like a fire.
Stay calm. Stay in control. Stay alive.
She inched the truck forward, feeling the branches scrape against the truck as it moved. Her eyes went to the rearview mirror to see Mark and Billy still struggling on the ground.
“Drive!” Al averted his eyes for a moment to follow her gaze. The knife slipped down to her collar. Katie saw her chance.
Oh, God. Help me—
She hit the gas hard. The truck leaped forward.
“Slow down!”
She ignored him. The kidnapper tightened his grip on her arm, shouting mind-numbingly sadistic threats he’d exact on her if she didn’t stop. She didn’t stop. She could see Al’s van now, ahead of her on the right, partially hidden behind a tree. She and Mark had driven past it without even seeing it or realizing they were heading into a trap.
Blocking everything out, Katie focused her attention on the rising speedometer in front of her. Just a little faster. Just a little farther.
The pain in her arm was increasing as Al pinned her right hand to her side. She couldn’t see the knife. With a primeval scream, she yanked her arm away from his grasp and twisted the steering wheel as hard as she could. The truck spun wildly. Her seat belt snapped her back against the seat. Al was thrown violently against the passenger door. The knife fell to the floor.
The wheels locked. Tires skidded, screeching in protest. The truck slid off the road, flipping over onto its side as it fell into a drainage ditch. Katie’s seat fell away beneath her. There was a bone-jarring jolt. Then everything stopped moving.