Team Love on the Run Box-Set #1

by Lisa Phillips

  The man waited to climb in the backseat until Matt was inside. Even after he closed the car door, Matt could hear the wind howl. Kathleen’s trembling hands missed the ignition twice before she finally inserted the key. Matt racked his brain with options for escape. The gunman sat in the middle seat behind them.

  Matt reached over and clicked on the defroster, while he tried to get his bearings. The sky lit up and thunder boomed again. His ribs seemed to shake with the same intensity as the car’s engine. The compact SUV practically sparkled, and the smell of strawberry lemonade air freshener confirmed his impression of the cleanliness. It didn’t seem like the type of car a gunman would own, but what did he know? Maybe it was a rental.

  There was nothing in the cup-holders except for what looked like a paper cup filled with—he bent closer—Skittles? Was this her car, then?

  So she had a sweet tooth, or maybe it was an indication she got anxious while she drove, and it kept her busy. His mind fully engaged with the possibilities, which he instantly recognized as ridiculous. He wanted to focus his thoughts on Skittles instead of the fact he may never get to eat another meal again?

  What if Kathleen had kids? He took a deep breath. The answers to those questions would never be revealed if he couldn’t find a solution to the greater problem: the lunatic in the backseat. He was itching to peek inside the glove compartment, but the way their captor was hunkered forward ready to fire his weapon, it didn’t seem he’d get a chance to do that.

  Matt turned his head so he could examine the man better. In the dim light he couldn’t see any notable birthmarks or features. “So, what is in the painting that you need so badly? Maybe we could work out another solution. I left my wallet back at home, but—”

  The gunman scoffed but said nothing.

  “You don’t know how much money I make,” Matt added. “I wouldn’t scoff without at least discussing some possibilities where everyone goes home happy.”

  The man’s features hardened. “Your money means nothing to me.” He flicked his hand forward. “Turn around and shut up.”

  Matt pressed his lips together and did as he was asked. So the guy either really wasn’t doing this for money or he thought Matt was full of it. Or both. He had a thick accent. Could this man have terrorist ties? Being next to a major research naval base only increased his suspicions...and his concern that no matter how they cooperated, they might still end up dead.

  Chapter Five

  Kathleen leaned forward as she drove, doing her best not to shake herself to pieces. Matt was no help. No help at all. She cringed at the critical thought. It was her blooming fault he had been roped into this, although if he’d just had the painting in the first place, then her plan would’ve worked.

  She’d prayed in the car all the way to his house. She’d thought she was acting wisely. It’d all gone so wrong.

  Lord, help. It was a simplistic but heartfelt prayer, and the only one she could string together.

  Matt pointed to the right. “Pretty sure we have to turn there.”

  “Oh.” She slammed on the brakes, a little too hard. The braking system kicked in to prevent sliding and fishtailing. Kathleen exhaled. “I knew that.”

  “No tricks,” the man in the back ordered.

  “It...it wasn’t a trick. I’m not used to driving in the middle of the night with someone pointing a gun at me.” Her teeth chattered, and she instantly wished she had more control of her tongue. The man had threatened her sister and her adorable niece and nephews. What’d he expect? “Sorry.”

  He said nothing, but she thought she could feel his scowl within the car.

  She made the next two turns in the small deserted downtown. A few of the shops had apartments above them, but the packaging shop sat at the end of the row. No apartments were close enough to hear her if she screamed.

  “In the alley,” he barked.

  She made the turn and parked behind the shop, facing what looked like a giant aluminum garage door. She assumed the mail trucks pulled right inside the back of the shop to pick up the packages. Their town didn’t have a regular post office. In fact, it was so small it wasn’t even an incorporated town.

  Her heart slowed. If they broke in to retrieve the painting, then surely it would trigger some sort of alarm system, which meant they’d all be saved. The police would come, and the gunman would get arrested. Matt was a genius for not keeping the painting with him!

  She glanced at him. His lips bent ever so slightly into an encouraging half-smile. Maybe he was thinking the same thing. Help would be on the way soon.

  “Hand me your keys.”

  Kathleen turned off the car, twisted around, and dropped the keys into Aldric’s outstretched hand, taking care not to actually touch him. She hated the fact he was holding her Mickey Mouse keychain. It had sentimental value, plus a little pocket to hold a photo of her niece and nephews.

  She faced forward but the floodlight hanging from the top of the aluminum garage door provided enough light that if she stared into the rearview mirror, she could see the jerk. He shoved the keychain into the pocket of his hoodie but removed a zippered leather bag and his phone. At least she assumed it was a phone, but it was closer to a small-sized tablet. He set the gun on top of his lap.

  Her muscles tensed. If only she could grab it, but there was no way she could be fast enough at this angle. With a stylus in his right hand, he made a series of taps on the tablet then shoved it back in his pocket.

  He picked up the gun. “I have disabled the cellular alarm. I will cut the wire and open the door. The moment the door is open you will have ten minutes to find me the painting. I don’t need to remind you of what is at stake, do I?”

  Her eyes burned. If he could cut the alarm and disable their cell phones without much effort, what kind of man were they dealing with? And what other capabilities did he have?

  Aldric pulled out the keychain and jiggled it. So he had noticed the picture of her niece and nephews. Her throat closed, and she nodded.

  “I’m assuming you will keep your friend in line.”

  She glanced at Matt. He nodded and reached for her hand. “Understood.”

  The man exited the car, the sound of pelting rain increasing in volume. He dashed underneath the overhang, pulled out a knife, and slit through the cord stapled to the perimeter of the door.

  “I take back the genius part,” she muttered.

  Matt raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  “I was mad at you for not having the painting, thinking we could’ve been out of danger by now. But when I realized we had to break in, I thought the alarm system would alert the police and we’d be saved so—”

  “You thought I was a genius,” he finished. “But not anymore, since our new friend already knew how to disable it.”

  “Yep. Please don’t call him a friend.” She held up her free hand. “Not even jokingly.”

  “Noted.” He let go of her hand. “What do you know about him?”

  “Nothing. Except he said his name was Aldric. Not that I have any reason to believe him.”

  “Do you have a spare key in here?”

  “So I can turn on the car and run him over?”

  The man outside looked at them suddenly as if he heard them. But that was impossible. He narrowed his eyes at Kate as he unzipped the bag and pulled out two small tools. She couldn’t tell exactly what he was holding through the streams of water running down the windshield. “If I did, I already would’ve done it. No, I don’t have any spare keys in my car.”

  “Anything we could use in here for a weapon?”

  “Matt, the safety of my sister and her kids is at stake.” She leaned her head against the backrest in defeat. “And no. It’s why I was looking through your aunt’s stained glass window stuff. I was hoping to find her tools.”

  His mouth dropped open in understanding. “Has it occurred to you that more than our lives might be at risk?”

  Her heart sped up, and her throat ached. “What are you sayi
ng?”

  He shrugged and smoothed down his beard. “I’m just very curious what he’s looking for. He didn’t even entertain the thought of money to let the painting go, which makes things more concerning. Think about it. What could fit in the frame joists or between the frame and the painting that would be small enough to go undetected?”

  While she couldn’t see clearly out of any of the windows, the fog in her mind started to clear. The memory chilled her to the bone. “Right before I picked up the frames I saw NCIS and the police leaving the scene. The owner told me a man they wanted to question had run through his frame shop, but they caught up to him in the alley.” She groaned. “I should really read the newspaper.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve read the paper ever since I got here. There was no mention of that.”

  “No. I suppose it would be in the one coming out today. But there might’ve been something in previous papers that might’ve given me a clue.”

  “You’re sure they were NCIS agents?”

  She nodded.

  He raked his hand through the top of his hair, clearly in deep thought. “So assuming it was the same guy, I would think the Navy would still want him under surveillance.”

  “Maybe he was, and he gave them the slip...on foot. That would explain why he made me drive.”

  He continued flattening his beard—almost like a nervous habit—but his hair spiked in different directions. If it weren’t for the dire circumstances, she would’ve found the sight amusing.

  “There was an article a few days back,” he said. “They’d found a cell phone tower without an owner near here—between Perry and the naval base.”

  She placed a hand on her chest. “What do you mean no owner?”

  “No cell phone or government branch was taking responsibility for it. They’ve actually found dozens of towers like it around the country. They call them intercept towers. Whoever is running it can grab your call and hand it off the real network, but in the process can install spyware on your phone.”

  Kathleen inhaled sharply. The implications were terrifying. She did everything on her phone—scheduling, banking, and all her email correspondence. What if that was how the man knew the location of her sister? “Matt, do you think that’s why our phones won’t work?”

  “Makes sense to me. Besides that, what if it’s close to the naval base in order to get information. And what if the information is—”

  The driver’s side door flew open. Kathleen screamed and held her hands up in front of her face. The rain poured down Aldric, his gun pointed at her. “Enough talk. Get out, and get to work.”

  Kathleen slid past him and ran into the open warehouse area. Her normally styled hair dripped water onto her shoulders from the short jog in the rain.

  Thunder rattled the garage door, despite it being in the open position. She was rattled more by the fact Aldric seemed to know what they were thinking. How had he even known they were talking? Was it possible he was listening through their phones? It had seemed odd that he hadn’t taken their cell phones away from them, even though he had clearly made sure they couldn’t make any outgoing calls.

  Kathleen had taken computer science in preparation for web design. While she was fluent in many different computer programs, she was a little rusty on her networking knowledge.

  Matt pulled his sopping wet socks off. “No use wearing these,” he muttered. “They’ll just soak up water and slow me down.”

  “Is that why you haven’t made a run for it?” She tilted her hair and tried to shake off the remaining drops.

  “No.” He leveled his gaze on her. “I promised you I wouldn’t do anything stupid. I’d never endanger you or your sister’s safety.”

  She looked down at the ground, trying to maintain calm. “You’ll have to be careful where you step. Especially since we can hardly see a thing in here.”

  Her car started and the headlights shined into the warehouse room of the package shop. She bit her lip. Yet again it seemed the gunman could hear what she’d said.

  Kathleen wanted to turn her phone off, but she didn’t want to risk making him mad. She was the only thing standing between him and her sister. Especially since Aldric was sitting behind the wheel of her car. She frowned. It had seemed weird that he made her drive in the first place. Why was that?

  “We better get started,” Matt said, jolting her back to the task at hand. There were cubicles directly behind them. Most likely for the postal boxes available for rent. “This would be easier if we had some overhead lights.”

  She spun around to where the car’s beams reflected off the metal handrails of the massive flatbed cart filled with packages of all sizes. “I didn’t know people had to mail so much stuff around here.”

  “Wherever there’s business, people will need to ship and receive lots of packages.” He stepped closer to her so that his arm brushed against hers. “How do we know if this is the received pile, or the going out pile?”

  She peeked over her shoulder and spotted another flatbed against the opposite wall. “We check the return address. I’m assuming they don’t mix them up.” She waved him away. “Can you check that one?” His close proximity made her want to burrow into his arms, so she exhaled, determined to focus.

  She stepped behind the flatbed. Her shoulders relaxed once something was between her and the car—an illusion of safety, but a welcome one.

  She picked up the first package on top. Too small to be a painting, but before she moved on, another glint of light caught her attention. A retractable razor with the blade sticking out rested against the corner of the bottom of the flatbed. Her heart raced. If the situation presented itself—if the gunman had his back turned to her or let his guard down...

  Kathleen picked up another box, making sure to knock over a third box in the process. She bent down and picked up the safety utility knife as her thumb retraced the blade.

  “Oof,” she grunted, hoping that if the man was listening through her phone, she was making a believable show. She slipped the knife in the front pocket of her sweatshirt and lifted the dropped box. “I suppose I don’t have to look at each box. We just need to find a thin rectangular one.”

  Matt crossed the room. She cringed at one look at his feet. They must be ice cold by now.

  “Sorry. I’m having a hard time focusing. Was that the wrong pile? I haven’t checked the return addresses yet.” She peeked and noticed Perry’s zip code on one. “Yes, this is the right pile. I guess we should both be looking through it.”

  Matt’s frown deepened. He stepped closer and leaned over her as if to reach for a package. “I thought you said the pickup only happens at one o’clock each day,” he whispered.

  “That’s right.”

  “It’s not here.” He glanced at the car. “These are all packages for the US mail.”

  Kathleen’s veins turned ice cold. “That is how you sent it, right?”

  He sighed and looked right at her. “No. I sent them APS.”

  Her eyes widened, and she scanned the piles of boxes. He was right. They were all for the mail truck. “You sent it through American Parcel Services?” She groaned. “Did you drop off the package before six?”

  He nodded. “Just before.”

  She closed her eyes. She had once dated a driver for APS, so she knew the schedule. “They pick up at six, but then they park it at their warehouse until morning.”

  “Which is where?”

  “Middle of nowhere. Not far, though. It’s in between a bunch of the small towns, maybe ten miles south of here. They start early. They leave and do pick-up at a few other small towns on their way to Bloomington.”

  “Okay. New plan. I say we act like we’re still hunting for packages.” He picked up one to examine. “But we find ourselves some makeshift weapons.”

  The car revved and barreled into the small space between the two flatbeds. Aldric jumped out and waved his gun. “Get in. Take me to the warehouse.”

  Matt glanced at her, and she co
uld almost read his mind. The look said it all. He finally understood, as she did, that the gunman could hear every word they said.

  Kathleen did the only thing she could think of. She barreled into Matt’s arms, hugging him fiercely on her tiptoes. “Stuff your phone somewhere in the car,” she whispered in his ear.

  He tightened his grip around her waist in reply, pulling her closer. Heat rushed down to her toes.

  Crack.

  They fell apart. Please let that have been lightning. She shook her head, trying to wish reality away.

  “I am not playing.” The gunman stepped forward, his face covered in shadows, his voice low. “Get in. Next time, the bullet goes in one of you.”

  Chapter Six

  Matt’s stomach fluttered. That had been too close. He reached down and squeezed Kathleen’s shaking hand. He hated letting her go. “What happened to acting like you didn’t care about me?” Matt asked out of the side of his mouth, as he walked to the far side of the car.

  Her eyes widened, and she gave him an apologetic shrug.

  Truth be told, he appreciated her bold move. If they were to get out of this alive, they needed to find ways to strategize.

  And he wanted another chance to hold her again.

  Matt stared at the gunman. His fists tightened, almost daring Aldric to make a move at such a close distance. Matt followed directions and opened the car door. If it weren’t for the possibility of Kathleen being hit in the skirmish, he would’ve taken his chances and thrown a punch into the man’s smug face.

  He hated the situation. It also irked him that his chance at getting to know Kathleen under better circumstances had been ruined.

  Aldric slid in the backseat, resuming his position with the gun between them. Matt studied the interior of the car. Where would his phone best fit? He understood Kathleen’s logic. They needed the phone to be somewhere close, since he assumed their location was being pinged, but they also needed to be able to talk without being overheard.

  Kathleen slipped the car in reverse and looked over her shoulder as they backed up. Her hand dropped into her sweatshirt pocket and slid the phone out and to a position underneath her leg. Matt hoped Aldric didn’t notice. He tried to follow her example, but pulling his phone out of his jeans pocket proved difficult without twisting in a way that would gain attention.