Rena paced, and the longer she paced the madder she got. How in the hell had the FBI found out about her? Had her husband caught on first and turned her in? And how close were they to knowing where she was?
Well it didn’t matter. Even though the island house she’d secured under a false name would keep her safe for a while, she had to get out of town. Fast. There was no need to worry about the laptop Franklin had taken. Now it came down to survival in any way possible.
She could get away, and she had more than enough money secured to provide her with a very comfortable lifestyle on some faraway island. As her mind concocted a scheme, her hands twisted the silencer onto the tip of the semi-automatic.
Behind her the grandfather clock ticked a steady rhythm, reminding her time was slipping away. Now that her husband knew everything, he’d be eager to help put her away, she was sure. Sniveling bastard. He wouldn’t stand up for her, not when it came to a choice between saving her or his own skin. No, she was truly on her own, and once she’d erased all living evidence, she’d be better off alone.
Chapter Fourteen
Was she alive? The question beat at him like a whip against raw flesh. It ate through his stomach like a bleeding ulcer. Still, there was nothing he could do. So naturally, Hunt took his fury out on whoever had the misfortune to cross his path which, at present, was only Dave.
“Ease up, man.” Dave’s lips stretched to one side in an exaggerated whisper. “People are starting to stare.”
Hunt massaged the back of his neck. It didn’t help. Tension still knotted his muscles so tightly he could bounce a quarter off them. “Carley’s in this situation because of me.”
“Though I don’t know her, I doubt she’d agree. Doesn’t seem like the type from the little information I’ve gleaned from you. Emphasis on little.”
“Let’s take a walk.” Hunt jerked his head toward the door and Dave fell into step beside him without question.
Pushing one hand against the glass door, Hunt walked out into the sunlight, leaving the murmur of voices, clicking of computer keys and ringing of phones behind. Once he was a safe distance away from the sheriff’s department, he turned to face his former partner.
“I don’t know if Rena is in this alone now that Franklin’s dead…or if she’s working with someone higher up the food chain.” He’d even considered that the techs and agents who were inside the station right now could actually be working for Rena Baulding.
His gut clenched in perfect imitation of his neck. These were men he’d trusted with his life, worked with on a daily basis. Was it possible Rena or even her husband had managed to wave enough money in front of their faces to make them forget about duty?
Dave grimaced then rubbed one finger over his top lip. “You seriously think your director might be involved?”
“I don’t want to but my gut’s telling me not to trust him. And if he is involved, there’s no telling how far up the ladder this goes. Even if he didn’t know in advance, he knows now, which means he has a decision to make. I’m not so sure he’ll choose his badge over his wife.”
“Then I guess it’s best we keep as much information to ourselves as possible to mitigate any possible damages.”
Hunt’s cell phone beeped and he flipped it open, scanned the text message and dropped the phone back into his pocket. “My team wants to know where I am.”
Dave frowned. “You have a team?”
“We don’t usually work alone.”
“Yeah, I always heard agents travel in packs, a lot like wolves.”
Hunt smiled grimly. “Something like that.”
Fingers snapping, Dave cleared his throat. “So you don’t trust your team either?”
The question drew Hunt’s gaze. “We’ve been together for five years.” He considered Dave’s question further. What was his hesitation with trusting his team? They knew about this case as they had each case before this one. More than once he’d trusted his life to each of them. And they’d never let him down. But could he be certain their hands were squeaky clean?
“Well?”
Hunt turned his attention toward the expertly trimmed hedges separating the front of the station from the parking lot. “I trust them,” he finally responded.
“Sounds so convincing.” Dave slapped him on the shoulder. “Just answer one question for me. Is Carley worth dying for? Because that’s very well what might happen if you go into this thing guns a-blazing.”
“Is that your way of telling me to keep a level head?”
“Shit, you left level behind hours ago.”
Hunt would have to agree. It was a little too late for rationality. The second he’d heard Rena’s syrupy voice telling him she had Carley, his world had narrowed. As much as he wanted to put the deputy director’s wife away for a very long time, finding Carley, making sure she was safe, consumed him.
He’d lost count of the number of times in just the past few minutes he’d kicked himself for not sending her away when he’d discovered who she was and why she was there. But should-haves wouldn’t help Carley now. He wasn’t sure anything could.
No, he wouldn’t think about the possibility that he was already too late. He couldn’t. His focus would slip, and an agent with no focus was an easy target. Besides, there’d been something in Rena’s voice, something that told him Carley was alive…and the bait Rena Baulding needed to catch him.
That was a wish he was more than willing to grant. Hunt retrieved his phone, sent a text message in reply to his team’s query. “Let’s go take a look around JT Everly’s house in case the forensic techs missed something. There’s nothing else we can do here until we get a bead on Baulding’s wife. I’ve sent a couple of guys back to the warehouse for another look.”
“I guess it’s good to have a team.”
Hunt didn’t have the same feeling…at least not now. To the other agents this was just another case, another animal to take off the street. Though they always tried to keep all the victims alive, they didn’t know what this one victim meant to him.
He hadn’t known until Rena said her name, but now that he did he’d be damned if he’d let anything happen to her. No matter what it took, he’d get her out of there alive.
Carley hid beneath the stairs, her shallow breaths barely making a sound. All she could do was wait and hope the women followed her instructions to the letter. The plan could collapse if even one woman fell apart.
She heard footsteps on the stairs. The plan was underway. “Come on, ladies. Just like I told you,” she whispered.
A hand slapped the metal door. “Hey! We need help in here! Open up!” In unison, the women began to shout, demanding attention.
Carley spared a glance at Becca, who’d taken her place at the wall. Now chained against the stone, the blonde kept her head low in an attempt to blend into the darkness. The clink of metal in the lock dragged Carley’s attention back toward the stairs.
“What the hell is going on in here?” The voice was gruff and husky—a man who’d smoked one too many cigarettes.
Just like Carley had hoped, he wasn’t prepared to see all of the women gathered together at the top of the stairs. Carley peered up in time to see two women, surprisingly strong in spite of their gaunt frames, take hold of his arms and yank him down the stairs.
The guard tumbled to the bottom, cursing all the way. Carley sprang out from her hiding place, quickly taking the upper hand. The man was down but definitely not out. He tried to push himself upward but she kicked him in the gut and aimed another kick at his groin before dropping to her knees beside him.
As the man groaned in agony, she removed the gun tucked in the waistband of his jeans and the keychain attached to his belt then pried the two-way radio from his hand. She pressed one knee against his throat to silence his groans and, with one quick butt of the gun against his head, quieted him altogether. His jaw went slack and his head fell to one side.
The women descended the stairs as one, rushing to Carley’s side to
follow her next set of orders.
She tossed the keys to a thin brunette behind her. “Get Becca down. The rest of you help me get this lug up. We’ve got to make sure he won’t come after us.”
“So we’re…we’re going?” The brunette shifted from one foot to the other. “I ain’t been outside these walls in, well, I don’t know how long.”
While Carley took pity on the woman’s nervousness, she knew they had little time to spare. “Well you’re going now. So get Becca down from there.” She sharpened her voice to push the woman into action.
Her throat grew tight as butterflies somersaulted in her stomach. She’d only get one chance to get these women out alive, and that was a chance she wasn’t even sure about. But trying was better than giving up.
Managing to roll the guard over, Carley unbuttoned his plaid shirt and tugged it from his shoulders. The guy was all muscle, which made the shirt an extra large size, but it would do to cover her for now. She’d have to find something for the other women to wear on the way out.
The rest of the women jumped in to help drag the guard toward the dangling chains and with much grunting and curses they finally managed to secure the unconscious man with the cuffs.
Stepping back, Carley released the breath she’d been holding and wrapped the guard’s belt around her waist. “Here.” She tossed the t-shirt she’d peeled off the guy to Becca. “Put that on.” The woman gave her a grateful smile before turning away to get dressed as though seeking some semblance of modesty.
Carley checked the gun’s clip. Full. Just as she’d expected. She held the weapon low in her hand and motioned toward the stairs. The steel against her palm reassured her, made her feel more in control than she had fifteen minutes ago. “Okay, ladies, follow me and stay quiet. We don’t know where Agnes is or who’s with her. The best we can hope for is a quick exit out the first window we come to.”
She didn’t tell them she had no intentions of going with them. Right now they needed a leader, and that was what she’d be to them. But in the end her need to confront her captor on even footing would be the controlling factor.
“Becca, do you still remember the number I gave you?”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Your boyfriend’s cell phone.”
“Detective Brandon, but his real name is Agent Chandler,” Carley corrected, climbing up the stairs with quick, stealthy steps. “I didn’t want Agnes to know he was with the FBI. She had enough information as it was. Now do you remember what to do once you get out of here?”
“I’m to find the first phone I can, call him and tell him to trace the call.”
The woman’s words reassured her somewhat. She reached the top of the stairs, running on pure adrenaline. The door was still open and Carley caught a glimpse of tile. A kitchen or laundry room. She prayed it was the kitchen. There’d be a better chance for a window.
Leading the way, she crept out onto the tile, her bare feet making no noise. She’d told the other women to form a solid line and stay behind her no matter what. And so far they’d obeyed to the letter. They were so quiet if she didn’t know they were behind her she would have thought she was alone.
The tile led into a small laundry room with a basket of clothes sitting atop the dryer. But there was no window in sight. Carley opened her mouth to curse and then saw the back door. Heart pumping, she turned the lock on the door handle, took a deep breath and gently opened the door. Not a kitchen, but the garage.
Relief flowed through her but only for a brief moment. There’d be plenty of time to celebrate later. For now she had another problem. The garage doors were down and there was only one small window above a workbench.
“Grab some of those clothes, whatever you can find to wear,” she whispered. “Then follow me.”
Carley slowly descended the concrete steps, hearing the slap of bare feet as the women trailed her. Her gaze scanned the dark interior. Two cars. She could hotwire them easily enough but the door could be electrified or any number of other possibilities. She wouldn’t risk these women’s lives, not when they were this close to freedom.
She eyed the window. It was narrow but possible for women as thin as these. She leaned in to inspect the sill, checking for any attached wires. Nothing. That didn’t mean they weren’t alarmed though, but considering the only other option was to take their chances with Agnes, Carley figured it was best to chance it.
“Becca, can you make it?”
The blonde didn’t hesitate. “For a chance to get out of this hellhole, I’d rip the skin from my body if I had to.” She climbed up onto the bench and tugged open the window. “Good thing they don’t feed us,” she muttered, shifting so that the top of her head stuck out the window.
Holding her breath, Carley waited. “What do you see?”
“A long drop,” came Becca’s excited whisper, “and then a road. Looks like we’re at the back of the house.”
Carley caught hold of the woman’s ankle. “Becca, listen to me. When you hit the ground, drop to your stomach and stay low. Keep as close to the side of the house as you can. You’ll need to slide along on your stomach beneath any windows.”
“Right. I’ll plaster myself to the ground until I reach the road. Then I’ll run like hell.”
“You don’t know who is friend or foe in this neighborhood so try to find a phone in a public place. You can call collect. Just say you’re calling collect for Carley. He’ll take the call.”
Becca began to wiggle farther out the window before she paused. “What about the rest of them?”
“I’ll get them out. I promise.”
Becca resumed wiggling and every woman in the garage held their breath until they heard the thump of her drop. Carley scrambled up on top of the bench in time to see Becca’s bony figure roll to her side, her gaunt frame pressed against the wall of the brick house.
All Carley could do now was keep her fingers crossed that she made it. With a smile she didn’t feel, she faced the other women. “Now let’s get the rest of you out of here.”
Hunt had never received a collect call on his cell phone before but the operator’s nasally voice telling him the call was for Carley had him fumbling to press the right key to accept the call.
“Carley?”
Dave sat up straighter beside him, his gaze focused on Hunt’s profile.
“No. My name is Becca. Carley asked me to call once I got out. She wants you to trace the call. You can find her that way. We were in a house. Big. Two story, maybe three. There are other women in there…in the garage. I don’t know if they can all fit through the window like I did. You have to get them out.”
She said the words so fast they all blended together. Hunt managed to decipher enough to tell him Carley was alive. The crushing weight lifted off his shoulders. He covered the mouthpiece and directed his gaze at Dave. “Call my team and tell them to put a trace on this call.”
As Hunt rattled off the number, Dave punched it into his cell phone and while his voice mumbled in the background Hunt returned his attention to Becca.
“Okay, Becca. We’re on our way. Are you safe? Do you have somewhere you can stay?”
“I’m in a diner called Sally’s not too far away from the house. I don’t want to stay here though.”
“No, it’s okay. I’m dispatching an agent to come get you. He should be there within five minutes. Hide out in the ladies’ room if it makes you feel better. Just lock yourself in one of the stalls. I’ll tell him where to find you.”
“You are going to get Carley out, aren’t you?” Becca’s voice sounded uncertain. “She risked her life for us.”
“She’ll be fine. Carley can handle herself but we’ll get there long before anything happens.”
Becca didn’t sound reassured when she responded. “You make sure she knows how grateful I am…just in case.”
“Hey, nothing’s going to happen. Just stay safe. The agent’s name is Spindler, Jim Spindler. He’ll identify himself and show you his credentials. You can trust him
. He’s been working with me for over five years now.”
“‘Kay.” She sounded far away, like she was backing up from the phone.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Just find Carley and make sure the rest of the women are safe.”
If Hunt knew Carley, she’d take care of the last part. It was her he was the most worried about, especially since she was no longer a hostage. No doubt she only had one thing on her mind…vengeance.
The kitchen yielded an even better escape route but without knowing how close Rena or other guards were, getting each of the women out was a long, arduous process. Keeping them quiet was even more difficult as most were crying tears of gratitude. She shushed them as much as she could and all but shoved the last woman out the double window.
“Wait! You’re not coming?” Fearful brown eyes searched Carley’s face.
“I can’t. There’s no way I’m letting this bitch get away.”
“She could kill you.”
It was a chance she was more than willing to take. She didn’t have any more time to reassure the woman so she just pulled the window down and tugged the curtains back into place.
Now she could breathe. Agnes’ castoffs were safe and she was seconds away from finding the bitch…and putting an end to her miserable existence. But first she’d make the woman tell her where Dani was, no matter what it took. Carley almost hoped the woman refused to talk, at least for a little while.
She kept close to the wall, edging around the corner and into the dining room. From this vantage point she could see the front door. Another escape route if she really wanted it. But now that she was this close to her revenge, she wanted it far more than freedom.
Muted voices seeped out from beneath a closed door adjacent to the front door. Carley’s muscles bunched as she tried to make out the number of voices. Two, possibly three. More than likely all armed. Depending on where the men stood in the room she could take out at least two at one time. But three? She wasn’t so sure she could take those odds. Better to wait it out, see if one or two of them left.
InTooDeep Page 16