Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #2

by Terri Reed

  “Perhaps the doctor left with Corben?” Drew’s lip curled. “She’s been treating him since he was eight.” The professional, regal woman they’d met earlier that day came to mind. Drew shook his head. “I have a hard time envisioning Dr. Cantwell and Corben in a romantic tryst.”

  “Yeah, that seems unlikely but then again…” Sami shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”

  TWELVE

  An hour later Sami restlessly paced the office of the Seattle FBI’s SAC—special agent in charge. Drew leaned on the edge of the desk and loosened his tie. Talbot and his SAC both stood near the large windows that looked out of the high-rise building, which sat on a corner, surrounded by similar structures. The sun was low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the blue-carpeted offices and making her aware of her exhaustion.

  A sofa pushed up against one wall was tempting. She needed to rest, but there was still work to be done. She rubbed the temples of her aching head.

  Talbot brought his SAC up-to-date on Corben and Dr. Cantwell. “We’ve got a BOLO out for Dr. Cantwell.”

  Which meant that all law enforcement agencies would be on the lookout for her. She wouldn’t be able to board a plane or train or bus easily. And if she was traveling by car…well, the license number, make and model of her Mercedes-Benz were in the hands of every police officer, trooper and federal agent across the country, not to mention at all the border crossings.

  Corben’s plane was still in the air, winging its way to New York and the waiting FBI agents. There was nothing left for Sami and Drew to do.

  Except…Sami had an uneasy sense that it was all too easy.

  “As slippery as Birdman, aka Corben Kraft, has been up to this point, why would he telegraph where to capture him?” Sami said aloud.

  “And what’s Dr. Cantwell’s part in all of this?” Drew said.

  Sami contemplated what Drew said. “I agree with you it seems highly unlikely that Dr. Cantwell and Corben are linked romantically.”

  “But that doesn’t mean they can’t both share an affinity for murder.”

  A shiver of dismay made goose pimples rise on Sami’s arms. “Could the doctor have killed Lonnie Freeman? Why?”

  Drew shook head, his expression perplexed. “And the missing computer. What’s on it that’s worth killing for?”

  “And don’t forget the house in Michigan,” Sami stated. “Who paid for it?”

  Sami blew out a breath that did nothing to relieve her tension. “I’ll call Jordon.” She plucked her phone from her pants pocket.

  When he answered, she said, “Talk to me. Tell me you have a name for the person who paid for Becca’s house.”

  “Sorry, not yet,” Jordon said.

  Discouraged, she sat on the suede sofa and sank into the comfortable cushions. “Bummer.”

  “However, I did find out something about James Clark.”

  “He’s been found?” Sami couldn’t stem the tide of hope. If he was alive, then maybe he could tell them why Corben had his credit card.

  “No, he’s still missing. His company is in disarray. Seems Mr. Clark was the heart and soul of Jaybird Aviation.”

  The name slammed through Sami’s brain. Jaybird. Ugh. More birds. Drew had mentioned Clark owned an aviation company but at the time the knowledge held no significance.

  Now… Did the fact Clark owned an aviation firm tie into Corben being a pilot? Had Corben worked for James Clark?

  No, Lonnie had said Corben went straight from the military to the airline. So was Clark a victim or an accomplice? “Tell me about his company.”

  “Jaybird Aviation specializes in the production and manufacturing of parts and accessories for the commercial and military aerospace industry. James inherited the company from his father. They’ve been in business since the mid-’50s.”

  “Why the name Jaybird?”

  “According to their website, Jay was the father’s name. Maybe he added the word bird because of the reference to flying. But the interesting thing is James took over for his father thirty-eight years ago.”

  “Around the same time that Becca Kraft’s house was bought.” Sami could see the dots starting to line up but they weren’t fitting together yet. “There has to be a connection between Clark’s company and the corporation that purchased and still pays for Becca’s house in Michigan.”

  And a connection between James and Corben. Was James Clark Corben’s father?

  “If you’re right about a connection, I haven’t found it yet,” Jordon said. “You asked if I could find out if James Clark was in Victoria at the time of Becca Kraft’s murder.”

  Her pulse sped up. “Was he?”

  Drew pushed away from the desk and moved to sit beside her. At his questioning look, she pointed to the phone and said, “Jordon has information on Clark.” Into the phone she said, “So was he in Victoria?”

  She tilted the phone so Drew could hear the answer. He pressed his head next to hers. The scent of his aftershave teased her senses and distracted her from Jordon’s answer. She mentally forced herself to listen.

  “I can’t confirm that he was in Victoria, but I found a rental agreement with his name on it for a vacation home on Vancouver Island for around the same time.”

  Sami mulled that over. “Was he with his wife?” His kids wouldn’t have been born yet.

  “I don’t know. That’d be something your inspector could have his people ask Mrs. Clark.”

  “Thanks, Jordon. Let me know if you find out anything else.” She hung up and quickly relayed the information about the Clarks’ business to Drew.

  “Let me get someone out to the Clark house to ask the wife about Victoria,” Drew said, and used his cell to make the call.

  When he was done, Sami said, “The house in Michigan bugs me. I want to go there. It could have answers for us.”

  Drew considered her for a moment. “All right. Let’s do it.”

  *

  Since the next available flight to Detroit was in the morning, they spent the night in a hotel by Sea-Tac Airport in separate but connected rooms. They shared a late meal, then retired to their rooms. Sami had asked if he’d mind keeping the connecting door open. He hadn’t. Acting as her protector filled him with a sense of responsibility he’d never had before. Not that he thought Sami wasn’t capable of defending herself, but he was glad to watch her back.

  When the alarm went off the next morning, Drew and Sami grabbed a quick bite from the hotel’s continental breakfast and then rushed to the airport terminal to catch their flight. By the time they arrived at Detroit Metropolitan Wayne County Airport, Drew’s limbs were stiff from sitting for so long. His phone had died midflight, as well. He stopped at a kiosk in the airport and bought a car charger, which he plugged into the rental car.

  He let Sami drive the thirty minutes to the house on Bloomington Drive in the Detroit suburb of Franklin. The sun was setting; the last few rays of light glinted off the house’s numbers.

  She brought the sedan to a halt on the curve of a cul-de-sac. The Kraft home was set off the road. It was an eyesore. Abandoned, uncared for. The shrubbery was overgrown and weeds had overtaken the tall grass. Windows were boarded up. The front porch sagged and the screen door hung off its hinges, making Drew think a good wind could send the metal and mesh door flying.

  “Doesn’t look like anyone has been here in a long time,” Sami stated, opening her car door.

  “I’m sure the neighbors are thrilled,” Drew commented as he stepped out of the vehicle.

  Compared to the more temperate weather of Seattle, Michigan was hot. But not nearly as hot as Arizona, for which Drew was thankful. He’d take a bit of humidity and high eighties over the blazing heat of the desert any day. But his cotton dress shirt still stuck to his skin. He rolled up the sleeves. Sami, however, appeared unperturbed by the weather.

  She looked fresh in her flowered top and black utility pants tucked inside her boots. She’d twisted her hair up and secured it in back wi
th a clip. He remembered the way all that blond hair had looked flowing over her shoulders. He wanted to pluck the clip out to let the strands dance free. Instead he put one hand on his weapon and used the other to bat away a bee.

  Carefully picking their way through the knee-high grass, Drew and Sami reached the porch stairs.

  “Watch your step,” he cautioned. The wood groaned beneath his weight as he stepped onto the porch.

  Sami’s phone rang. She paused on the bottom step to answer. “Agent Bennett.”

  Drew tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. Caution tripped down his spine. He placed a hand on the butt of his gun. Figuring Sami would be right behind him in a moment, he pushed the door open. The house was dark inside because boards covered the windows. He had just crossed the threshold when a trapdoor in the floor beneath him gave way.

  Stunned, his arms windmilling, searching for something to grab on to, he fell into inky blackness.

  *

  With her back to the house, Sami’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t have heard Agent Talbot correctly. “Wait! What? Corben Kraft wasn’t on the airplane when it landed in New York? How can that be? Why wasn’t I informed of this earlier?”

  “We wanted to make sure he hadn’t slipped through,” the agent explained. “I did call you earlier but it went to voice mail.”

  Because she’d been on a plane and then hadn’t checked her messages. She’d been too intent on reaching the house.

  Talbot went on to tell her that apparently, Corben had hired someone to pose as him for a thousand dollars and a free flight to New York. Which meant Corben hadn’t left Seattle. At least not the way they’d thought. Talbot assured her they had every available officer in the state of Washington looking for Corben.

  Sami looked toward the house and frowned. Drew had gone inside without her.

  “Keep me updated,” she told the agent.

  She jammed the phone into her pocket and carefully went up the porch stairs. Rage burned like acid in her gut. Corben had played them. She’d known it had been too easy. While they were laying a trap for him in New York, he was… She didn’t know where he’d gone. Was he still in Seattle? Had he crossed the border and was now in Canada or headed south through Oregon and California to Mexico?

  She could only hope God saw fit to give her the knowledge necessary to capture Birdman.

  She paused at the front door of the abandoned house. The interior was pitch-black. A musty, moldy scent hit her in the face. She wrinkled her nose. This wouldn’t be good for her allergies.

  “Drew?” she called out.

  Silence met her voice.

  The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose. Caution sent her senses into overdrive. The absolute lack of noise ratcheted the creep factor to high. She certainly wouldn’t go inside alone.

  But Sami wasn’t alone. Drew was here, somewhere in the house, and she wasn’t going to let fear derail her from her training.

  With one hand on her weapon, she stepped inside the house. The floor creaked beneath her feet. Through the light coming in from the open door at her back she could tell the house was empty. No furniture to bump into, nothing to trip over. But shadows concealed the corners of the wide room she guessed was the living room.

  Where was Drew?

  She ventured farther into the house and could just make out the darker outline of a hallway straight ahead. “Drew?”

  A whisper of noise from behind her startled her. She whirled around just as the front door slammed shut, throwing her into complete darkness. No light came through the slats of the boarded-up windows.

  Terror streaked through her. Immediately, she crouched, making herself less of a target. With shaking hands, she dug out her phone, intending to use the flashlight feature, but before she could turn it on, something knocked the phone from her hand. The device skittered away and so did she until her back hit the wall.

  Her mind scrambled to comprehend what was happening even as muscle memory kicked in and she pulled her gun. An assailant hid in the dark. Corben? Dr. Cantwell?

  What happened to Drew?

  Her partner could be hurt. Or worse, dead. Bile burned her throat. The thought of losing another partner twisted her heart. But her priority had to be eliminating the danger.

  Still in a crouch and leading with a two-handed grip on her gun, she moved slowly in the direction of what she hoped was the front door. She mentally ticked off the steps. The dark overwhelmed her, playing havoc with her equilibrium. She bumped into something solid and froze. Her pulse jumped. Not a wall, and there was no furniture.

  Panic jolted through her. She jumped away and whipped around, looking for a target. But the blackness concealed the threat.

  If it were Drew, he’d say something, right?

  The scuff of a shoe on the wooden floor sounded as loud as a gunshot.

  “Drew?” she whispered. Please, dear God, let Drew be okay.

  She prayed nothing had happened to him…not only because he was her partner, but because, she was forced to acknowledge, she cared for the big Canadian. Maybe could even let herself love him if given a chance.

  Something touched her hair. She jumped sideways, hesitant to fire until she located Drew. Her bullet could find him by mistake.

  The door. She had to find the door and get out. But then what? Leave Drew inside? No, she couldn’t do that. But if she could open the door, light would reveal the person lurking in the shadows and she could neutralize the threat. She inched her way in the direction of the door.

  In the back of her mind, this all felt familiar. Like something she’d seen in a movie or on television. Then it came to her with a sinking sensation in her gut. Her heart beat at a rapid clip, she struggled to breathe. If she weren’t living this, she’d never believe it. They were playing out a scene from a popular thriller. Had the movie been the impetus that started Corben on his killing spree? Art becoming reality. “Corben, is that you?”

  A snickering came from her right. She spun around.

  “It’s me.” A singsong voice assaulted her from behind. “You are clever, Agent Bennett, as I knew you would be.”

  “What did you do with Drew?” she demanded, though her voice didn’t hold as much threat as it did fear.

  “Oh, you’ll see soon enough.”

  The disembodied voice had moved. She homed in on the spot where she thought he was and fired.

  The flash of the bullet leaving the gun momentarily blinded her. A hole appeared in a board covering the front window, letting in a stream of light. She searched the shadows for Corben.

  A hard shove on her back sent her stumbling toward the front door. She used the momentum to keep going forward. Just as she reached for the doorknob, she heard a faint click and the floor beneath her disappeared.

  She fell through an opening and landed with a jarring thud onto a dirt floor. Her gun bounced away. Pain exploded in her head and air rushed out of her lungs. She blinked back the dust her abrupt fall had kicked up, but it was too late. The hole above her head had closed.

  She flipped to her hands and knees. Her gaze swept what was really little more than a crawl space. A single bare bulb hung from a cord, providing enough dim light for her to see a closed two-feet-by-two-feet door and two figures propped up against the wall, bound and gagged.

  She ignored Dr. Cantwell and went directly to Drew. Relief to see him alive flooded her and filled her heart. She retrieved her gun and rushed to his side. “Thank you, God.”

  Reaching for the duct tape stretched across his mouth, she said, “This is going to hurt.”

  He nodded.

  Wincing on his behalf, she ripped the tape from his face.

  He flinched, then worked his jaw a second before asking, “Are you okay? I heard gunfire.”

  “I am now that I’ve found you.” She slipped her knife from her boot and made quick work of cutting the thick cord holding him captive. “What happened?”

  “I fell through the same trapdoor you just did.” He rose to a crou
ch since the low ceiling wouldn’t allow him to stand. “He was waiting for me with a stun gun.”

  She noticed his empty holster. “He took your sidearm.”

  Grimly, Drew nodded. “Unfortunately.”

  She was glad Corben hadn’t used it on her while he’d toyed with her in the dark. “What about your phone?”

  He grimaced. “Charging in the car.”

  And hers was somewhere above them. So much for calling in backup.

  Sami’s gaze landed on Dr. Cantwell, bound and gagged with duct tape just as Drew had been, only she was unconscious. Sami scrabbled to her side, cut the cords binding her hands and feet, laid her out flat and then gently shook her. “Dr. Cantwell.”

  She didn’t respond. Sami checked her pulse. Steady.

  “She’s out cold. He must have drugged her,” Sami said.

  Drew tried the door handle, but it was locked. “There has to be another way out of here.”

  She searched along the walls for another exit. Drew worked at opening the trapdoor. She came up empty, and apparently so did Drew, if his frustrated growl was any indication.

  Taunting laughter invaded the room. Sami’s gaze went to the ceiling. There in the far corner, she could see a speaker box and a tiny camera. She nudged Drew and pointed.

  “I see it.” To the camera, Drew mocked, “Too scared to face me yourself?”

  “Now, now, Inspector Kelley, don’t be a spoilsport.” Corben’s voice came at them from the speaker. “All in due time.”

  Keeping her gun at the ready, she faced the camera. “What do you want, Corben? Why have you trapped us here?”

  “You trapped yourselves,” he countered. “You trespassed.”

  Sami shook her head. “No, that’s not true.”

  The speaker emitted more laughter, which grated on Sami’s nerves. Drew leaned over to whisper in her ear, “Keep him distracted while I work on getting that door open.” He tilted his head to indicate the door in the wall.

  She nodded and focused back on the camera. “You knew I’d come here.”

  “I did indeed, Agent Bennett. Or should I call you Sami?”