by Terri Reed
Are there more of them? Have they gone into the house? Olivia’s computer printout had said the Faceless Crew were a team of three. If so, that would make this small man Shorty, the so-called explosives expert. Getting past this man and rushing into the house would mean giving up the element of surprise, throwing himself into a fight and potentially alerting whoever else was with him.
Lord, help me be wise. Please protect Sarah and Olivia. Keep them safe until I can get to them. Help me know the right way and time to act.
Daniel pressed his fingers against the box directly in front of him. If only he’d come closer, then there were at least half a dozen ways Daniel could think to almost silently take him to the ground without alerting any buddies he might have waiting outside. Shorty set the flashlight down on the ground and pulled something the size of brick from his duffel bag.
A second figure appeared in the doorway. Daniel felt his heart smack so hard against his rib cage he nearly lost his breath.
It was Olivia. She was followed by a thin masked man who could only be described as a “Rake.” The masked thug had his hand clamped around Olivia’s throat. His other hand pressed a gun to the back of her head.
Daniel’s heart lurched with every step she took.
Olivia’s hands were tied in front of her. Rainwater streamed down her tiny frame.
Daniel braced his hands on the loft floor and fought the urge to leap. Everything inside him wanted to attack the man gripping her and to fight for her life with every last breath in his body. But if he made a move, the gunman might pull the trigger ending Olivia’s life. And he still didn’t know if there were more of them or where Sarah was.
His eyes closed for fraction of a second, just long enough to pray.
Oh, God, I have to save her. Help me focus.
The gunman shuffled her across the floor toward the truck. Olivia’s eyes didn’t even glance toward his hiding spot. But surely she had to know he was there. She had to know he wouldn’t just have run off and left her.
Shorty stood up from behind the truck and quickly yanked his mask back on.
“We good?” Rake asked.
“Yup.” He wiped his hands on his pants and walked over to the workbench.
Yup. Right this way. Just a little closer…
“What do the three of you want?” Olivia’s voice rang loud and clear. “You two, plus that trigger-happy Brute who you left all alone in the house, now trying to figure his way out of the living room.”
Oh, she was brilliant! Olivia knew he was there, all right! And in two sentences had managed to give him all the information he needed to assess the situation.
A crew of three faceless thugs. None of whom, it seemed, had Sarah.
“None of your business. Now shut it or I’ll gag you.” Rake cuffed her in the back of the head with the gun. Olivia cried out in pain. He opened the passenger door to Daniel’s truck. “Get in.”
She stepped up onto the running board.
Okay, so his hand is off her throat. The gun will probably slip away from her head for a second or two. Shorty has walked into range. Looks as though this is the best chance I’m going to get. I just need to wait and pick my moment—
Olivia kicked back hard, catching Rake sharply in the gut.
Or she could pick the moment.
Rake collapsed onto the ground and gasped for breath. His gun clattered across the floor. Daniel leaped. He landed on Shorty’s shoulders and forced him to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a flash of red as Olivia scrambled for Rake’s gun.
Daniel leaped to his feet. Shorty’s fist caught Daniel in the side of the head. Daniel kicked his legs out from under him.
A gunshot pierced the air.
Olivia screamed. Daniel’s heart stopped.
Brute was standing in the garage doorway. His gun was aimed at her face. “Kneel.” Olivia knelt. He glanced at the thin man. “Hey, Rake? You mind if I end her now?”
“Hey!” Daniel’s hands shot up in the air. “Don’t hurt her. Let her go. Whatever you want, you can get from me!”
Shorty laughed.
A swift, hard blow struck Daniel on the back of the head.
The world went black.
ELEVEN
“Daniel! Daniel! Wake up!”
Somewhere in the darkness of Daniel’s barely conscious brain, he could hear Olivia shouting like a distant echo coming from the bottom of a tunnel.
“Dear God, please, please help me wake him up! I can’t do this alone…”
He heard her praying. But his head ached and he couldn’t get his eyes to open. Something was pressing into his forehead. He needed to wake up.
Unconsciousness swept over his mind.
He was passing out again.
A sharp, sudden pain pierced his shoulder.
He jerked awake.
Daniel was half sitting, half lying in the front seat of his truck. They were still in his garage. His wrists were fastened to the steering wheel by plastic zip ties. Long wet hair brushed against his neck. “Ouch! Did you just pinch my shoulder?”
“You’re awake!” Olivia kissed his cheek and then she sat back against the passenger seat. Her hands were bound together in front of her. “There’s—” Fresh tears choked the words from her lips.
“It’s okay. We’re in this together. It’s going to be okay.” Instinctively he found himself wanting to reassure her, even as his mind spun to evaluate the danger he’d just woken up in.
His head ached and he could barely move his hands. But they were still alive, not too badly hurt and still together. “Where are they?”
“Heading down the driveway. Haven’t heard them drive off yet.”
“Where’s Sarah?”
“She managed to escape into the woods. She said she’d meet you at the motel on the highway.”
Thank You, God.
“That’s a relief. Are you able to get the glove compartment open? I stashed a really good, sharp knife in there before I went to bed. Should be able to cut through these ties.”
Her eyes darted to the glove compartment. “I’m pretty sure there’s a bomb in here with us somewhere. Rake asked Shorty how long they had before the truck exploded. I was afraid to touch anything or try to open the door in case that’s what set it off.”
Just like that, the bit of relief he’d felt turned to a cold and focused fear. “How long ago did they leave?”
“Couple minutes. Not long. All I know is it’s a bigger bomb than the one that took out Brian’s car, so this time they went for a timer instead of a remote, because Shorty was worried about getting far enough away.”
“You keep using the same code names as the Faceless Crew website. Why?”
“That’s what they kept calling each other.”
“Okay. Well, if you didn’t hear them pelt down the driveway and peel out of here, then we probably have a few minutes.” But probably not much more than that. “I watched Shorty mess with the back of the truck. Pretty sure he didn’t go anywhere near the cab.”
She opened the glove compartment and pulled out a retractable utility knife. She slid the blade out with her fingertips.
Daniel pulled his hands as far away from the steering wheel as he could. There was less than an inch of cutting space between the cuffs and his skin. “You want me to talk you through it?”
“No. Just keep quiet and don’t move.”
Her hands brushed his. The knife slid past his wrists. She cut him free. A vehicle engine roared in the night air. He took the knife, grabbed Olivia’s fingers and set her wrists loose. “Come on.”
They leaped from the truck and slid through the gap under the garage door out into the rain. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the trees. They ran through the woods, stumbling over underbrush, pushing through the branches. “Thank You, God, that we—”
An explosion shook the air. Heat surged toward them. Smoke billowed through the trees behind them. Red-and-orange flames flickered in the sky.
The smell of burning wood filled his lungs. A cry escaped Olivia’s lips. Pain filled her eyes.
“It’s just a building.” His hand tightened in hers. “Come on. We’ve got to keep running.”
She squeezed back. They ran for as long as their bodies could take it. Rain blurred their vision. His lungs ached. But it wasn’t until he heard Olivia panting for breath that he slowed his pace to walking. “You said Sarah’s heading to the clown motel?”
She gasped in a long breath. It sounded painful. “Yeah. She said she’d call the police from there. I know that’s where the Leslie crew was planning to party, but she said it was the safest place to go.”
“Maybe she’s right. At least she got away.” He’d have preferred she’d stayed close by and waited to run with them. But there was nothing to be done about it now. “She always loved that place. I don’t know what it is with teenagers and wanting to sneak into broken fairgrounds.”
The rain grew heavier. Lightning split the sky. He glanced at Olivia. She was soaked, her clothes were streaked with dirt and he could feel her shivering through their joined hands. Yet somehow she was still holding her head high. He’d never seen someone look so fragile and yet so strong at the same time. He wished he had something to offer her other than the thin, soaked T-shirt on his back. Olivia pulled out her cell phone, cupped it under her arm and checked for a signal. It was only then he realized they were still holding hands.
“Got a signal?”
“No.” She slid her phone back into her pocket. “And my phone’s not waterproof, so I want to keep it in my pocket.”
“I’ve still got my wallet on me.” Plus the knife from the glove compartment. “You?”
She nodded. “My wallet. My notepad and the photo memory card.”
Well, that was something. But for now they were alone. In the woods. With not much more than the clothes on their backs. And each other.
And You, Lord. Thank You for helping us get out of there alive.
They kept walking. He told Olivia that he’d seen Shorty’s face, but hadn’t recognized him as anyone from either the Leslie Construction crew or the trial. Olivia told him about Brute chasing her through the living room. He nearly whistled. Her bravery was astounding.
“After you were knocked out, I went limp,” she said. “Figured it was best to save my strength, at least as long as they were keeping us together. They thought I’d fainted and started talking a bit more freely then. From what I was able to piece together, they were hired by someone who didn’t just want Brian dead, but wanted to make an impressive, showy statement of killing him. Which isn’t that far off what we suspected already. Shorty was worried ‘the client’ was going to be angry that the explosion might not be big enough to demolish the house, too, because the rain would keep the fire from spreading, and apparently the client wanted both your vehicle and house destroyed—”
“What?” His voice rose sharply. “The client wanted them to demolish my house? Why?”
Whoever had hired the Faceless Crew hated the Leslies so much they actually wanted to blow up the house he was restoring?
“I don’t know. But I do know that using bombs and explosives matters to them. Rake yelled at Brute for shooting his gun off at me, because no one would take them seriously as a gang if they didn’t stick to the pattern of people dying in explosions, and that’s why the client had hired them. He added it didn’t matter if they hated him or not, because the client was on the fast track to heading up something big. I don’t know what that means.”
“Neither do I.” But he didn’t like the sound of it. “In my experience, bombs are an intimidation tactic used by people who want to prove they’re scary. Making a big, flashy show of it like that just makes your job harder.” And destroying a whole house was definitely an escalation over a simple car bomb.
“Rake was plenty mad at both of them.” She smacked a branch out of her face. “He said the client might even make them go back and blow up your house. Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” The forest floor grew wetter until they were trudging through water up to their ankles. Now the rain was beating so hard he could barely see. More lightning, this time forked and dangerous. He slid his arm around her shoulder and shifted course. “Weather’s getting worse. We’re not safe out here. I think we should take shelter until there’s a break in the storm, or at least until the lightning stops. There’s a tiny ghost town north of us. Just a handful of empty buildings and two stop signs. But there should still be something there with a roof.”
Thunder rumbled above them. Another flash of lightning.
They started running.
TWELVE
The trees parted. A narrow and twisted back road lay at their feet. Water coursed down it like a river. They sloshed in. Daniel grabbed Olivia’s hand. The water was already knee-deep on her.
Rain beat against their bodies as though it was trying to push its way straight through. Branches and debris swirled down the water past them. Southern Ontario was no stranger to harsh late-summer thunderstorms, but he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a storm hit this hard. If the rain didn’t let up soon, a lot of the roads would be impassable. And even more rain was predicted to fall before the weekend was through.
The dark, ghostly shapes of abandoned stores and houses appeared ahead of them in the gloom. A small brick church sat by the edge of town. He pulled Olivia toward it. The door was closed, but it opened when he leaned his shoulder into it. They tumbled out of the rain. Olivia held up her cell phone and shone the light over the abandoned space. A couple of broken pews. A few dusty crates of books. An old hand-drawn sign announcing a strawberry social that had no doubt been held a very long time ago. She switched the phone off and slid it back into her pocket. “I still can’t get a signal and the battery is down to five percent.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if the storm knocked out the cell towers.”
Maybe even the electricity and phones, too. Thankfully, Sarah had escaped before the worst of the storm hit. Hopefully she was safe at the motel now, curled up in the shabby front lounge chatting with the police. Olivia sat on the floor and looked out at the rain. He sat beside her. The motel and campgrounds were probably less than an hour’s walk now. Rain like this came in waves. They’d wait for the next break then start running again.
“I never realized just how many abandoned buildings there were out in the country.” A sad sigh left Olivia’s body. “I can’t imagine having a home and just leaving it.”
Yeah, he’d felt similarly the first time he’d realized such a picturesque world existed commuting distance from Toronto. “Well, a lot of smaller farms and communities are struggling economically. Factories and farms shut down. Stores can’t afford to keep their doors open. Towns die. People leave. Sometimes shutting the door and walking away is easier than fighting for something that no longer seems livable.” He shook his head. “But I was hoping that one day I’d move up here permanently.”
Olivia pressed her lips together. The soft patter of rain and rumble of thunder filled a long pause between them.
“I never had a home,” she said. “We moved constantly when I was growing up, all over Canada and the States. So I lived in a lot of temporary apartments. Nineteen total by the time I left for college. Sometimes I’d just get settled in a school, then wake up the next day to hear we were moving again. Sometimes I’d just have an air mattress and a suitcase on the floor. Everything I owned fit in one big red suitcase.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I definitely know what it’s like to live out of a suitcase. But it’s different when you’re an adult and choose it.”
“Well, my dad was in manufacturing and had trouble keeping steady work. He was definitely in a tough segment of the industry and there weren’t a lot of jobs going. But he had a lot of conflicts with employers, too. Some refused to pay him his final paycheck or paid him less than he thought he was owed. Which is why I took the Leslie Construction trial and the idea Bria
n cheated all those people kind of personally at first. Dad blames everyone but himself. Mom definitely blames him. They barely managed to stick together while I was young, and eventually split up when I left home. My sister, Chloe, blames both of them.” She leaned against his shoulder.
“Blame’s a tricky thing.” He slipped his arm around her. “At least for me anyway. Don’t always know where to put it, and sometimes it’s hard to get rid of the need to. For a long time I blamed Mona, one hundred percent, for ruining our marriage by cheating on me and leaving. Not to mention blaming her for her drug and alcohol problems. Because, obviously, those were her choices.” He could feel Olivia’s hair against his cheek. He ran his hand down over her shoulder until his fingers brushed against her hand. “I blamed Rita, too, for taking her in when she left me and encouraging her in her dangerous lifestyle. But, in the end, I also blame myself for not seeing it coming. See, my parents got married as teenagers and were together their whole lives. Mona was the first time I’d ever fallen in love. I just took it for granted that it was all going to work out for us the way it did for my parents.”
He hadn’t thought it through. He hadn’t gone into his marriage with his eyes open. He’d been too swept up in emotion. He couldn’t ever let that happen again.
“I blamed God,” Olivia said. “My mom used to take me to church with her and I loved it. Because it didn’t matter whether we were in Manitoba or Florida, there were people who all sang the same songs, read the same Bible stories and welcomed me like family. I used to pray every single time we moved that this move would be the last, that this time I’d finally have a real house of my own, that this time God would keep my dad from fighting with people. Eventually, I got so hurt and angry, I stopped praying…”
Her voice trailed off into sob. He pulled back just enough to turn and face her. “Hey, it’s okay.”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not. Because I got so caught up in trying to protect my job with the paper that I wasn’t fully honest with you. I never lied to you. But I also never told you that Vince was cutting staff. I never told you that I needed this Leslie Construction story to keep my job. I never told you that Vince doesn’t know I’m up here chasing this story and in fact told me not to chase it—”