by Stark, Cindy
Sam entered the building, his surprised expression matching that of the others. The white van sat inside, but there was no sign of any men, armed or otherwise. In fact, a good portion of the building sat empty.
Mark nodded toward the small office sitting off to the left side. They stealthily made their way to the room, men watching for any activity in all directions. When they reached the office, Mark peeked in the window that allowed anyone sitting behind the desk to watch activity going on in the warehouse. With a swift move, he stood and pointed his weapon at the occupants of the room.
“Police. Don’t move.”
Sam walked forward and could see Paul Castell sitting behind the desk, not exactly looking surprised at their appearance. Standing next to him was a younger man with blond hair wearing a jacket with a patch stating Riverside Delivery who very much seemed shocked to find eight men with guns trained in their direction.
“Can I help you?” Paul said to Mark.
Mark tossed the search warrant on Paul’s desk. “We’re conducting a search. How many other men are in the building?”
“None,” Paul replied. “It’s a Saturday. I only came in to receive this one package.” Paul pointed to the large cardboard box sitting on his desk before he shifted his gaze to Sam, the slightest hint of a smile touching his lips. “Detective Holden. Nice to see you again.”
“Why did the van need to be parked inside the building for just one package?” Sam asked.
“In case you hadn’t heard, I’ve recently been released from the hospital. I’m still having a hard time getting around, so I asked the driver to pull inside. Is there a law against that, officer?”
Sam couldn’t respond. Boiling blood pulsed through his vessels. If he said anything, he’d lose his cool. Instead, he stared at the man he seriously wanted to rip apart, limb by limb.
Janie had been right in her assessment of Brent. That little mother fucker had tipped off Castell. He’d better hope to hell he didn’t come face to face with Sam again.
“Weapons?” Mark asked.
Paul shook his head and raised his hands. “I run a respectable business, officer. I have no need for a gun.”
An expletive jumped from Sam’s lips that time, and both Mark and Noah eyed him. Mark didn’t linger with his gaze, but Noah did. His partner indicated with a jerk of his head that they should leave the room.
Sam followed though he didn’t want to.
“What the hell is going on?” Noah whispered to him.
“He’s lying.” Couldn’t the rest of these guys see that?
“Whether he is or isn’t, we’ve got to do this by the book.”
Sam stared at his partner, his anger at Paul morphing into irritation at the guy next to him. His partner was supposed to have his back, not question his intentions. “Then let’s do it.”
Mark left two men in the office to watch Paul and the delivery guy while they conducted their search. Two hours later, the men came up empty-handed.
“Ask for his shipping logs,” Sam said to Mark after they had reconvened in the office.
“We’ve already reviewed them. Everything looks clean.”
“It isn’t clean,” Sam said, pissed that Paul had outsmarted him. “This prick’s a bastard that needs to be behind bars.”
“This is harassment,” Paul said to Mark. “You’ve disrupted my business for more than two hours, for nothing.”
Harassment? He could say that after what he’d done to Janie? Something in Sam snapped, and he grabbed Paul by the shirt collar and jerked him to his feet. “Listen douchebag—“
Then Noah and another guy were on him, pulling him away from Paul. Sam wanted to deck them, too, but they held his arms and escorted him from the office. Outside the office, he jerked away from them, firing visual daggers at them instead.
“Sam,” Noah warned. “You’ve got to cool it down. Let’s go outside. Mark can handle it from here.”
Sam stared at him for a moment, and then caved. He turned and strode from the building, more angry than he could ever remember being. He needed to maintain control, but the smirk on Castell’s face stole his rationality.
Noah was directly behind him when he walked into the misty air.
“Seriously, Sam. What the hell was that?”
Sam turned on him, but didn’t answer.
“You’re losing it. Who the hell is this guy to you? Yeah, he assaulted a woman. Yeah, he’s most likely a dealer, but dude, you’re taking this way too personal.”
Heated blood pounded through his brain, fighting his attempt to control his emotions. “He’s nobody.”
Noah narrowed his gaze, studying him for several seconds. “It’s the girl.”
“Fuck,” Sam exploded. “Would you quit saying that?”
His partner didn’t seem the least bit affected by his outburst. “You were different with her the night we brought her in. Then you insisted we start investigating Castell.” He paused again as though piecing together information. “Do you know where she is?” he said, his gaze lighting with interest.
Sam prayed his own expression wasn’t so telling. “Why the hell would you ask that?”
“She’s disappeared off the radar. Even her own lawyer can’t locate her. And I just listed off the reasons I think you might have given her a place to stay. So…do you?”
Noah had backed him into a corner, leaving him no escape. “You’re screwed in the head, man.” He started walking back toward their car. “I’ve got better things to do than argue this with you.”
“Yeah,” Noah said from behind him. “Like writing a report on why we wasted the department’s resources this morning.”
“It’s not a waste,” Sam said as he fired up the engine in his car. “He’s involved in something big. I just need to prove it.” He turned to his partner. “Why the hell didn’t Mark bring a dog? This whole department is fucked up.”
Chapter Nineteen
Paul waited until the last of the officers and the delivery man left before he crumpled forward on his desk. “Motherfucker,” he whispered, trying to catch his breath. The whole time the cops had been in there, he’d had to maintain his composure, fearful they’d come across something he and his men had missed.
Thank God Brent had spilled his guts in time for them to do something about it, and double thanks to the gods that the cops hadn’t brought dogs with them.
Someone was smiling down on him.
His cell rang, and he jumped. He glanced at the screen, recognizing the name of one of his men. “Yeah,” he said as he held it to his ear. His blood pressure spiked to the degree it had when the cops had been there. “What the fuck do you mean you lost her? He paused as his man imparted the rest of the news. “Shit. I hope the guys have left town. If Hardy finds out they lost her, he’ll kill them himself.” There was no way it would stay out of the news. He could only pray Hardy wouldn’t tie the shooting to him. He sure as hell wasn’t going to offer up the information.
“A license plate is good,” he said, happy to get something other than bad news. God had thrown him a bone. “Hardy said we could use Clark. Get a hold of him, and give him the plate. Let me know what he finds.”
It was damn obvious he was out of time and had to do something quick, or he’d lose his head, too. “I hope to hell you have other guys out looking for her. Yeah, yeah,” he said and hung up the phone, grabbing his own keys.
No one wanted to find Janie Singleton as much as he did.
* * *
Sam was still reeling from the aftereffects of the botched raid and Noah’s attack on his character when he walked into the precinct. He immediately caught the elevated tension in the air and the constant chatter of his co-workers. He and Noah eyed each other before they joined the fray.
“Something going down?” Sam asked a dispatcher.
“Shooting on Hawthorne. They’ve got the footage on TV.”
Sam shifted his gaze to the nearby television. As the reporter continued to give the latest i
nformation, amateur footage ran in the background. The shot showed a woman in the distance running across the Hawthorne Bridge. His chest tightened. She looked like she could have been Janie. As the shot panned back to the row of cars waiting to cross the bridge, he realized the bridge was lifting as she’d crossed it. He stared at the screen. A few cars back from the front of the line, he recognized Christian’s one-of-a-kind Mustang. Several people were out of their cars crowded around one man.
Christian.
The weight of the world crashed in on him.
“I’ve got to go,” he said, pushing people out of the way. “I’m taking some personal time,” he said to Noah as he passed.
More than one co-worker watched him with widened eyes, but he didn’t have time to explain or make up a story. He had to get to Janie.
* * *
Janie slowed to a walk after she’d made it several blocks past the bridge. She wished she could slow her heartbeat as easily. She heard the sirens, but tried to pretend she hadn’t been involved in what summoned them. Running definitely made her more conspicuous. No one noticed a walker as much. On second thought, she ducked into an alley and pulled the cap from her hair, stuffing it into her bag. She tried to fluff her hair as much as she could, and then she removed her jacket and tucked it into her bag as well. At first glance, she wouldn’t look like the girl on the bridge.
Besides Castell’s men, she had no idea who might be looking for her. Christian eventually, when he could escape the bridge traffic. Maybe the cops. It couldn’t look very good to be running away after shots were fired. She knew she was running from the shooter, but would everyone else?
Another siren sounded, and she slipped farther down the alley, putting as much distance as she could between her and the public. She had to get off the streets. She was too much of a target.
She scooted between two garbage bins and for the first time since the shooting, tried to catch her breath. A stack of cardboard boxes had been flattened and bundled, and rested against the side of the building. Meant for recycling, she assumed. Exhausted physically and emotionally, she dragged the stack of boxes between the two bins and sat down.
The shelter of the large metal containers gave her a moment’s rest. She closed her eyes and inhaled a huge breath. Dear God. A horn honked and startled her, but then all was quiet again.
She still had her life, thank God. It killed her not knowing Christian’s status. She pulled out her phone only to realize she didn’t have his number.
But she had Sam’s. She hit redial only to have it go to voicemail again. Her anger spiked. Where the hell was he? On some secret raid that he couldn’t tell her about? It stung that she’d asked him to be honest with her the previous night and he’d still withheld information. He’d known as she’d lain curled against him what he’d planned for today. And he chose not to say anything.
She shut her eyes as frustrated tears burned through her lashes. Maybe she shouldn’t try to call him again. Maybe she should catch the first bus out of town and not look back. She did have all her important documents and a decent amount of money on her.
She tried it on for size, but the thought didn’t sit well with her. If she left, the judge would ultimately put out a warrant for her failure to appear. Or worse, the case would go to trial, and she’d be found guilty because she didn’t appear to defend herself.
Neither of those were a good idea. It would be bad enough hiding from Paul. He could only reach so far. The justice system had far bigger claws.
She wiped her eyes. She could always call Eliana. Her attorney would certainly help her find a place to stay and help her navigate her way through the justice system.
But she couldn’t protect her from Paul.
No. As mad as she was at Sam, she wouldn’t walk away from him. Her parents hadn’t been worth the fight and neither had Paul, but something made her think Sam might be.
She grasped her knees, pulling them to her chest and rested her head. All she could do now was wait. Eventually, he’d check his phone.
* * *
Sam turned on his phone as he raced for his car. The second he had reception his phone rang. Ryan. He answered and listened as his friend relayed the details of what had gone down.
“What the fuck do you mean, Christian lost her? Fear frosted his veins.
“She made it across the bridge, but they shot him in the leg. There was no way he could go after her.”
“She’s still out there…alone? How long has it been?”
“Over an hour, man. I’ve been searching, been trying to call you.”
“We raided Castell’s warehouse. I had to have my phone off.”
“Check to see if she’s called you then. None of us have her number.”
He jerked the phone away from his head as though it burned him and pulled down the information bar. Thirty missed calls. Most of them from Ryan. One from Christian…and three from an unknown number.
It had to be Janie. “I think I got her.”
He didn’t wait for Ryan to respond before he disconnected and hit redial on the unknown number.
“Sam?” she answered, her voice sounding scared and uncertain.
His heart sweated blood in relief. “God, Janie.” She was alive. “Are you okay? Where are you? He couldn’t get his words out fast enough.
“I’m hiding. Between two buildings. I didn’t know where was safe.”
“Stay there. Stay hidden. I’m coming to get you. What street are you on?”
“I’m not sure. I just ran and didn’t think to look. I must be a couple of blocks off Hawthorne. I passed a print shop not long before I found this alley.”
“I think I know where you are. I can be there in five minutes. Just hang on.”
Again, Sam wished he’d had the forethought to grab a cruiser instead of his personal vehicle. A siren would have gotten him there in three minutes, and at this point in time, he didn’t care who had eyes on him. He needed Janie to be safe.
He made her keep the phone line open while he drove, though neither of them said anything. He could hear her breathing, couldn’t imagine what kind of hell she’d been through that day.
“I’m close now. Come out of the alley so I can see you,” he said as he turned the corner and drew up next to the copy and shipping store. He continued slowly past it, and then spotted her blond head peeking from between two buildings. He sped up and then slammed on the brakes when he reached her, barely shoving his transmission into park before he jumped out of his car.
She opened her arms as he reached her, tears running down her face. He crushed her in his embrace, hugging her so tight that he lifted her off her feet. “Thank God,” he whispered. “Thank God.”
“I didn’t know what to do, Sam,” she said when he pulled away. “They were shooting at us. We tried to get out of downtown, but we got stopped by the bridge. I was so scared…I just ran.”
He took her face between his hands and kissed her hard. “You did good. Let’s get the hell out of here. We’ll talk on the way home.” He held her tight against him until he’d helped her safely into the car. He glanced around, surveying their surroundings. When nothing seemed out of place, he climbed in his car and headed home.
* * *
Awkwardness and silence filled the car as Sam drove Janie home. There was so much she wanted to say, but she didn’t know where to start. Apparently, he was having a difficult time, too.
Finally, he broke the stillness. “I’m so sorry, Janie. I should have done a better job.”
She frowned at his words. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m the one who asked Christian to drive me to the bank.” Seeing Sam had shaken her thoughts and churned emotion to the surface, and she’d forgotten the one thing she needed to know. “Is he okay?”
Sam tapped his fingers on the gearshift, his troubled thoughts evident. “He caught a bullet in the thigh. Not much more than a surface wound, so I think he’ll live.”
“Shot? Oh, God.” It sickened her to think
he’d been hurt because of her.
“Don’t feel too sorry for him.”
She was shocked at the anger echoing in his voice. “It’s not his fault, either. He did a great job of protecting me.”
Sam slid a sideways glance at her. “He lost you.”
“We were ambushed, Sam. There was no way we could have known someone would be watching my bank. I didn’t think Paul even knew I had an account there.”
He gave her a doubtful look. “He must have had some suspicion or found something at the apartment.”
“Maybe I left something behind.” As soon as she’d said the words, she remembered. Her secret little box she kept in the top of the closet. She’d totally forgotten about it the night she’d grabbed her stuff and left. “You can’t be mad at Christian.”
“I am. If there wasn’t a bullet hole in his leg, I’d put one there.”
She rounded on him, his anger resurrecting hers. “At least he didn’t lie to me.”
Guilt colored his features. “I didn’t lie.”
“God, Sam, you’ve spent so much time living two lives and hiding one from the other, that you can’t even remember how to tell the truth. Do you not see the problem with that?”
He stared at the windshield, but didn’t respond.
“Lying by omission is just as bad. Last night after we made love, I told you how important it was that you were honest with me. You said you’d tell me the truth, yet the whole time you were withholding more information.”
“It was confidential information on a drug raid that was scheduled to take place today. Men’s lives were at stake. I couldn’t tell you.”
She compressed her lips. While that was technically true, she didn’t believe that was his only reason for holding back. She couldn’t keep her silence. “A drug raid that involved Paul.”