by B. J Daniels
He hated the way his hand shook. This was exactly what Keller wanted—him running scared.
But how could he not be terrified for Laney? Nick knew what kind of man Zak Keller was. He’d seen how callous and cold-blooded the man could be. Nick knew what kind of danger Laney was in.
His mind raced with only one thought—saving Laney. From the beginning, Nick had known he probably wouldn’t get out of this mess alive. At the very least, he would never be able to be a cop in California again. Keller had friends who would make sure of that.
But Laney hadn’t asked for any of this. She deserved so much better. Nick would never forgive himself for jeopardizing her life. How had Keller found out about her? Because of last night?
Nick knew that couldn’t be possible. Keller couldn’t have known about them that quickly. Keller had said he’d found him and Laney on the Internet?
On impulse, Nick called up Arlene Evans’s Meet-a-Mate Web site. He’d been so upset this morning at Laney’s that he hadn’t paid any attention to anything except the fact that Arlene and her damned site had made national television.
Now as he flipped through the photographs of the possible “dates,” he saw what Keller must have seen—a photo of Nick and one of Laney with a stupid red heart around the two photographs and a caption that read True Love?
There were other photographs linked as well with stupid captions.
Nick felt sick. Arlene had no idea what she’d done. Not just to him. But to Laney. Arlene also had posted information about each of them. Keller wouldn’t have had any trouble at all finding Laney.
Nick wanted to break something, to destroy the office, to curse God. But he knew that would just be a waste of time and property and spirit.
If he hoped to save Laney, he had to think like Keller. He had to be cold-blooded. He had to be calm. Mostly, if given the opportunity, he would have to be a killer.
In a separate locked drawer, he took out his own gun. He didn’t have to check to see if it was loaded, but he did anyway. He needed to cover every base. He knew Keller would.
He grabbed two full clips and stuck them into the pocket of his denim jacket. From the drawer he took out his sheathed knife and slipped it into his boot.
Keller would expect him to be packing. He didn’t want to let him down. His sheriff department-issue pistol that he’d been given when he took the job, he slipped into the holster, put on his denim jacket and, leaving the keys to the patrol car on his desk, left.
When he’d gotten to Whitehorse, he’d picked up an old used pickup. It was a beater, but it ran well. Since then, he’d been working so much he had barely used the truck.
But now he walked the four blocks to his apartment. It was one of a half-dozen built in a row, white with blue trim, neat as a pin.
Inside, he packed just for something to do while he waited for the call. He didn’t have much. Everything fit into two duffel bags. He carried them out to the pickup and put them behind the seat.
Then he climbed behind the wheel, started the truck and drove down to Packy’s to fill up with gas.
Keller hadn’t called, but then he hadn’t expected him to. Zak would try to drag this out as long as possible. He didn’t just want to kill Nick; he wanted him to suffer.
Nick wouldn’t let himself think about what might be happening to Laney. He couldn’t or he would lose it. He had to keep his cool. Keller was hoping he would lose control, act on emotion rather than reason.
Not that Nick had a chance in hell. Keller would make sure of that. Nick was as good as dead. But maybe there was a chance for Laney. He concentrated on that.
On that and the thought that if he failed today, Keller would be free.
Nick couldn’t let that happen. He’d had a chance once to kill Keller. He hadn’t taken it. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. But Keller might not give him another opportunity. In fact, Nick was pretty sure Keller wouldn’t.
But maybe there was another way, he thought as he drove back to the sheriff’s department. He checked out the video camera and new tape, went into his office and locked the door. It only took a few minutes to set up the camera; when the light came on, he sat down in front of the lens and began to speak.
“My name is Nicolas Giovanni. If you’re watching this, I’m dead. As I make this recording, L.A. homicide detective Zak Keller has kidnapped Laney Cavanaugh. She might already be dead for all I know.”
His voice threatened to break. He cleared his throat. “I was to testify against Zak Keller next week in a trial in Los Angeles. Since I don’t think I’m going to be making that trial now, I’m giving my testimony by video. I saw Zak Keller kill two police officers in cold blood on May 31 of this year.”
Nick took a breath and let it out and began again.
“I attempted to arrest him, but I was wounded and he got away. However, I did retrieve the gun he used and put it into evidence. The gun as well as the report verifying that his prints were on the weapon later disappeared, as did Zak. He was arrested but released on bail. After an attempt on my life, I went into hiding. Right now I am waiting for another call from Zak to tell me where to meet him.” He shut off the camera and waited as the day turned to dusk, then dark.
When his cell phone rang, Nick turned the video camera back on and stepped closer. He let it ring another time, then answered it on camera.
* * *
“THAT YOU, OLD BUDDY?” Zak asked, amusement in his voice. “Took you long enough to answer. You playing games with me?”
Like you’re playing games with me? “Couldn’t get the damned thing out of my pocket,” Nick said, wanting Zak to believe he was nervous. Hell, he was way beyond nervous.
Zak laughed. “Okay, here’s the plan. You—”
“I need to know that Laney is still alive.” He hoped the audio was picking up Zak’s side of the conversation.
“You’re in no position to make demands, Nicolas,” Zak said, a sharp edge to his voice.
“Come on, Zak. Just let me hear her voice.”
Silence. For a minute he thought Keller might have hung up.
“Just a minute. She’s coming around.”
Nick held his breath as he looked at the camera, saw the red recording light, waited to hear Laney’s voice, terrified of what Keller had done to her.
“Nick, I’m all right.”
She didn’t sound all right.
“What has he done to you?”
“You want to hear the plan, Nick, or do you want to hear her scream? Your choice.”
“Let’s hear the plan, Zak.”
“I’ll have to call you back. Start driving north toward Saco.”
“When does the killing stop, Zak?” Nick asked.
“You know the answer to that, old buddy. See you soon.”
The line went dead. Nick looked at the camera, then walked over and shut it off, removed the cassette and put it in the padded envelope, addressed the video to the prosecuting attorney, Los Angeles, California. He gave the package to the dispatcher with instructions to overnight it the next morning.
Then he walked out to his pickup, climbed in and headed north toward Saco.
* * *
LANEY WOKE TO PANIC. She couldn’t see a thing, but she realized at once that she was in a small dark place and she couldn’t breathe. She tried to move but found her wrists and ankles bound, tape over her mouth.
She fought back the terror, sucking in air through her nose, as she realized where she was.
In the trunk of a car. She could hear the engine, the hum of the tires on the road, feel the rough carpet against her cheek as the car hit a bump, jostling her.
She lay curled in a fetal position. Her head ached and it took her a moment to remember what had happened. Zak Keller. She closed her eyes as fear overcame her.
To meet Nick. Nicolas Giovanni.
Terror immobilized her worse than the tape that bound her. He was going to kill her. Except if that was all he had planned, he would have done it back at the house.
She felt the car slow, turn; the road became rough just before the car stopped in what felt like a few miles off the highway.
The engine died into silence. She held her breath as she heard the car door open, close, the sound of footsteps on gravel growing nearer.
The trunk lid popped open.
She blinked, blinded by the tiny trunk light overhead and surprised to see that it was dark outside. Even darker was the silhouette of Zak Keller standing over her.
“Laney Cavanaugh.” His voice was as cold as his eyes. “Here, let me help you out.”
The switchblade in his hand caught the light. She cringed as he brought it down. She heard his chuckle as he cut the tape that bound her ankles; then the blade disappeared, and he smiled and offered her his hand.
“I hope the ride wasn’t too uncomfortable for you,” he said.
He was just making conversation, clearly liking the sound of his own voice. He couldn’t care less about her welfare and she knew it. She was a means to an end and she feared what that end was.
Her mouth was still covered with tape, her wrists still bound, as he helped her out of the trunk, then slammed the lid. They stood for a moment, him gripping her elbow.
She could make out structures, all dark. It wasn’t until he led her toward the larger of the buildings that she recognized where they were. Sleeping Buffalo Resort. She’d heard that it was closed for repairs. Obviously so had Zak Keller.
At the door to the indoor pool, he shoved her into the corner. “Just stand there. We don’t want another episode like back at the house, now do we?”
She said nothing, but she could see his expression. He wanted her to try to escape. He wanted to hurt her.
She watched him produce a crowbar and realized he’d had it in his other hand the entire time. Had she tried anything, she would have known about its existence much sooner.
As he worked quickly and with obvious expertise in breaking and entering, her mind raced. What were they doing here? She hated to imagine what he had planned for them. There was no doubt in her mind he would kill them. When he finished torturing them with whatever game he was playing.
Knowing that she had no chance of surviving gave her a kind of peace. Fear came with hope. She had no hope.
The wood around the door splintered. Zak Keller froze. She could tell he was listening. He knew no one was around or they wouldn’t be here. He wasn’t a man who left anything to chance. But he also knew there could always be surprises, unplanned contingencies.
No one came at the sound of the wood splintering. Nor when he pushed the door open and dragged Laney inside. She smelled the heavy damp scent of the mineral pool. Their footsteps echoed on the concrete floor as he led her past the desk into the huge pool area.
The ceiling was high, the echo of their footfalls on the concrete louder in here. She could hear the gurgle of the water at the inlets as they skirted the pool. It was pitch-black inside the massive room, but she could make out a faint light coming from the locker rooms.
He drew her toward the light in the women’s locker room, down the narrow entry past the old-fashioned wire baskets with numbers on them, around the corner to the line of dressing rooms.
He stopped in front of one and drew back the plastic shower curtain to expose a bench. “Sit.”
She sat. The switchblade appeared again. He sliced the blade through the duct tape around her wrists. She rubbed at her sore red skin, trying not to imagine what was coming next.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” he said leaning over her. “You’re going to call your boyfriend and tell him to come get you. But if you scream, which would be stupid on your part since there isn’t anyone around for miles, but if you do, I will hurt you. We understand each other?”
Perfectly, she thought, and nodded.
He jerked the tape off her mouth. She couldn’t help the small cry of pain. He smiled, taking pleasure in her pain, no matter how small. Then he took out the cell phone, dialed a number and handed her the phone.
It rang three times. She could see Zak Keller growing impatient again. If Nick was smart he would be miles away from here by now. He wouldn’t come out here. Why get them both killed?
“Hello.”
The sound of his voice brought both relief and regret. “Nick.” She cleared her throat, her gaze on Zak. He looked ready to hurt her as if balancing on the edge of a knife blade, ready to go off at any minute. “He wants you to come out to Sleeping Buffalo.”
“Do whatever he tells you to,” Nick said, his voice sounding almost too calm. “Don’t give him an excuse to hurt you.”
“Ask him if he knows where the pool is,” Zak ordered.
“Do you know where the swimming pool is?” she asked.
“I’m on my way.”
Something in his voice tore at her heart. “Don’t. Run. He’s going to—”
Zak slammed her against the side of the dressing-room wall.
She was ready for the blow and made no sound.
The phone clattered to the floor. Calmly Zak picked it up, glaring at her, disappointed that she hadn’t screamed for Nick’s benefit.
“How do you inspire such loyalty?” Zak asked Nick as he spoke into the phone. “She risks my wrath to save your sorry ass. You’re really something, Nicolas. But then you always did have a way with the ladies, didn’t you? We’ll be waiting for you.” He disconnected and looked at Laney.
She could tell he wanted to hit her again. She met his gaze, held it; seconds passed.
“Take off your clothes.”
Chapter Fourteen
“I said, take off your clothes,” Zak Keller ordered. “I can rip them off if you like, but then you might get more than you bargained for if that happens.”
Laney looked into his eyes. She hadn’t bargained for any of this and he knew it. In the depths of those soulless eyes, she saw evil as dark and sinister as the pits of hell.
“Oh come on,” he snapped. “I’m not going to rape you.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m tempted. But there isn’t time. Nick won’t know that I didn’t though. It will drive him crazy to think that I had you.” He pulled out the gun and pointed it at her head. “Or Nick can find you slumped in a pool of your own blood in this dressing room. Your choice.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked as she slowly began to take off her shoes and socks.
“Nick didn’t tell you? No, I guess he wouldn’t. Nick and I were partners.” He motioned with the gun for her to speed up the disrobing.
“Partners?” she asked as she put her shoes and socks aside and began to unbutton her blouse, trying to imagine what kind of business dealings Nick would have had with this man.
“Homicide detectives,” Zak Keller said.
“You were a cop?” She couldn’t hide her shock.
His laugh had a sharp edge to it. “I’m still a cop. Nick is trying to take that away from me, but it will be over my dead body.” Anger made the veins in his forehead pop out. The hand holding the gun was trembling and she could see that he was having trouble controlling his anger.
She let her blouse drop to the floor. “You were partners?” she said in an attempt to calm him down.
“Partners,” he repeated and took a moment before he said, “We were from the same neighborhood. We grew up together as close as any real brothers before we became brothers in blue. Only Nicolas forgot about the code.”
“The code?” She began to unbutton her jeans.
“The code that no matter what happens on the
job, cops stick together. Nick broke the code.”
“So you were police officers in Houston together?”
“Houston? Is that what he told you?” Zak laughed. “L.A. He hasn’t been very truthful with you.”
No, Nick hadn’t. But if Zak was any indication, she was beginning to understand why.
She slipped out of her jeans, leaving her bra and panties on. She could feel those cold pale eyes on her.
“So he never mentioned me?” Zak asked. “I’m deeply hurt. I’ll have to tell him when I see him. I used to spend more time with his family than with my own. He tell you about his family? No? A big Italian family.”
So at least that much was true.
“Come on, take the rest of it off. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” He glanced toward the pool. “I’m worried about Nicolas. Calling himself Rogers. The way he loves old Roy Rogers westerns, didn’t he realize that name would set off alarms with me? New deputy sheriff in town. Linked romantically with pretty local girl. That is all so Nick.” Zak laughed. “He always was a sucker for those sappy happy endings.”
Laney slipped out of her panties, then her bra. She shivered, crossed her arms over her bare chest, and raised her eyes slowly to meet Zak Keller’s. She knew he’d be grinning. He was.
“Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
She said nothing, holding his gaze.
“Put your arms down,” he ordered.
She did, refusing to look away as she felt his gaze slide over her body like slime. It took all her composure not to strike out at him. But she knew he would have enjoyed that too much.
There was no getting past him, not with him blocking the narrow opening of the dressing room. He had her trapped. Trying to fight him would only play right into his hands.
His grin broadened as his gaze returned to hers. “I think I’m beginning to understand now what Nicolas saw in you.” He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out the duct tape. “Sorry, but I’m going to have to tape your wrists again.”