Without Warning

Home > Other > Without Warning > Page 11
Without Warning Page 11

by Lynette Eason


  The backhoe driver had driven the machine right into Quinn’s unmarked car, and now the vehicle rocked up onto two wheels. Daniel hollered and Quinn let out a string of words she’d never heard him use before. Then the car slammed back down. She grabbed the handle and pulled, but the door wouldn’t open.

  “My door’s crushed!” Daniel yelled from behind her.

  “Mine’s jammed too,” she said. The backhoe had plowed into the passenger side of the vehicle. She looked for the machine and saw it in a blur. “Quinn! Get out while you can!” she cried. “He’s coming back for another hit.”

  But Quinn didn’t act fast enough and once again the car shuddered with the impact of the backhoe. And this time it rocked the vehicle up and onto the driver’s side. She heard Daniel fall the length of the backseat even as gravity took her crashing into Quinn. He grunted.

  The engine of the backhoe roared and the machine came once again to push against the bottom of the car. The vehicle went over onto the top. Windows popped. Metal creaked and groaned, giving a horrid death cry.

  In her stunned state, Katie heard screams that filtered through the now-shattered windows. Screams of the workers? No, they were gone for the day. Or were the screams just hers? She managed to catch a breath, even crushed against Quinn like she was. “Quinn! Daniel! Are you okay?”

  “He’s coming back, hold on,” Quinn shouted in her ear.

  How did he know? The sound. She heard it now over the roaring in her ears. Another slam. She knocked her head against Quinn’s chin. He gave a grunt but wrapped one arm around her waist. “Daniel!”

  He didn’t answer.

  Katie crawled off Quinn and onto the center of the ceiling that now served as the base of the car.

  “They’re in the car! Stop him!” Shouts from the outside. Who? Did she hear sirens? She desperately hoped so.

  Through the broken back window, Katie had a glimpse of the tanklike wheels rolling toward them once again. Panting with a fear that had her sweating, she scooted toward the front seat passenger window and in the side mirror saw what the driver intended. The backhoe’s single arm was lowering. Heading straight toward the back of the vehicle. “Quinn, he’s going to crush us! Daniel!”

  A panic attack threatened, but the desire to live was stronger. She wriggled so she could see between the two upside-down front seats. Daniel lay collapsed up against the window just behind the driver’s seat. His eyes were shut and blood ran from a gash on his temple. With adrenaline pumping through her, she reached through the seats and grasped the back of his shirt. “Quinn, help me.”

  He moved beside her and added his arm, managed to snag Daniel’s belt. “Got him. Pull!”

  Together they dragged Daniel into the front area of the sedan. He lay almost on top of Quinn in the cramped quarters.

  In the side mirror, she caught sight of the backhoe arm dropping, felt the harsh jolt. The screeching crush of metal once again blistered her ears and the back of the car crumpled like a soda can. But the action popped the front windshield and then lifted the front of the car.

  Glass rained over her. She ignored it. “We’ve got to get out now, Quinn.”

  “Working on it. Go!”

  “Daniel—”

  “I’ve got him.”

  Katie rolled out of what had been the front windshield and onto the ground. She turned back to help Quinn get the still-unconscious Daniel out the window. “Pass him through,” she grunted. Her wounded knee protested the weight she had on it, but she ignored the pain and flexed her fingers as she readied herself for Daniel’s weight. Quinn heaved him through the opening. She slid both forearms under his armpits. “Hurry, Quinn. If he drops that arm again—”

  “I know. You got him?”

  “Yes. Give him another shove.”

  He did and she lost her balance in the tight space between the hood of the car and the ground. She went down, but didn’t let go of Daniel. He came with her part of the way, then stopped. Sweat dripped into her eyes.

  “I can’t get enough leverage,” she panted.

  Daniel groaned.

  “Come on, Daniel, wake up.” With half of his weight resting on her, she wiggled to the side, braced her feet on the frame, and repositioned her arms under his armpits.

  Quinn gave Daniel another push and she managed to roll with him. He stirred. “Now would be a really good time to wake up.” But Daniel didn’t open his eyes.

  Quinn slid his upper body out of the car onto the ground beside them. “I’ll push, you pull.” She rolled out from beneath the front hood of the vehicle, ignoring the glass under her. She felt hands on her arm and someone yanked.

  She was out from under the hood. She stood and turned back for Daniel, but someone had already pulled him out too. Dizziness hit her hard and she gasped.

  Someone screamed, “Get him out!”

  She spun to see the arm of the backhoe aimed straight for the exposed undercarriage of Quinn’s car.

  Sirens sounded close.

  “Quinn!”

  His hands appeared in the opening and the people who’d stopped to help grabbed for them. They pulled as the arm of the backhoe dropped and slammed into the vehicle.

  [12]

  Quinn’s scream ripped through Daniel’s consciousness. His head pounded in time with his heart. Cries echoed in his ears. “Quinn!” Katie’s scream mixed with the others. “Get him out, get him out!”

  “What happened?” he demanded.

  But no one answered.

  Sirens closed in. A loud crack brought more yells. A gunshot. Then a body—Katie—fell on top of him and he grunted. Darkness swirled again.

  “Daniel?”

  “Katie?”

  “You’re okay?”

  He gripped her forearms. Noticed the rock-hard muscles beneath her skin. Then was distracted by the renewed throbbing in his skull. “I’m okay.”

  She rolled away from him and he squinted to watch her sit up. His vision blurred, doubled, then righted itself. Nausea swept him.

  She moved away from him and he reached for her, snagged her wrist. “Wait.”

  “I need to check on Quinn.” Her pale face and ravaged expression didn’t bode well.

  Someone moved next to him. “Sir? You shouldn’t move. Let me take a look at your head.”

  Daniel squinted. A paramedic. The man dropped to his knees next to him. Daniel ignored him, pushed to his feet, and swayed. The paramedic rose, hands outstretched. Katie slid a hand around his waist and stepped toward the demolished vehicle.

  “What happened to Quinn?” Daniel whispered, stumbling after her. Spots danced before his eyes.

  “Sir?” The paramedic again.

  “Katie? What happened to Quinn?” He wasn’t going to let her just walk off. He’d crawl after her. And if the weakness in his legs was any indication, that might be exactly what he’d be doing if she moved much faster.

  She stopped and looked up at him. “He’s hurt, Daniel. When the arm on the backhoe came down the last time, Quinn was only halfway out. His legs . . .” She shook her head even as she focused on the rescue workers prying the car off the man.

  Daniel took a step in Quinn’s direction, determined to help him, but his legs gave out. He heard Katie calling him, felt her grip tighten, but this time he couldn’t stop the darkness from overtaking him.

  Katie caught Daniel as best she could and managed to get him to the ground with only a slight thud instead of him having another hard landing. No doubt he had a concussion. She felt his pulse and found it strong, if a bit fast. She turned to wave the paramedic over and found him already there.

  “He’s stubborn,” the man noted.

  “For sure.”

  “Let’s hope that works in his favor.” He went to work, checking his vitals. Another paramedic joined him.

  Once she was sure Daniel was in good hands and wasn’t in any immediate danger, she turned back to find that the workers had extracted Quinn. When she caught sight of his legs, she gasped at th
e bloody mess and raced to his side. She wrapped her fingers around his hand, but one of the workers caught her arm. “Stand back, please, he’s lost a lot of blood and we need to get him stabilized.”

  Katie moved out of the way and watched them work. Tears clogged her throat and filled her eyes. “Quinn,” she whispered. He was more than a friend and co-worker, he’d become the brother she so desperately missed. “God, let him be okay, please.” As much as she wanted to go to him, she knew there was nothing she could do. He needed her to stay out of the way and let the professionals work on him. And Daniel needed her.

  She whirled to find Daniel on a stretcher, his eyes open. She raced to his side and grasped his hand. “I’m right behind you, Daniel. All the way to the hospital.”

  “Quinn?”

  “He’ll be there too.”

  Katie was making a mental list of all the people she needed to call. Riley. Quinn’s partner, Bree. Quinn’s family. His girlfriend, Maddy McKay. “I’ll see you at the hospital,” she told him. But he was already unconscious again. She bolted toward her Jeep.

  Daniel’s head buzzed. His dry throat ached. Memories flashed and he gasped. “Katie, Quinn.” It didn’t sound like his voice. More like a long groan.

  “Uncle Daniel?” A soft hand slipped into his.

  He forced his eyes open and slowly they focused on the face in front of him. “Riley?” he whispered.

  She nodded and a tear slipped down her cheek to land on his chin. She swiped it away. “Hey.”

  “What happened?” he croaked.

  “You almost got squashed like a bug, from what I hear.”

  “Awesome.” Sarcasm. His go-to coping mechanism. He coughed and winced as his head started to pound again. “Where’s Katie?”

  “Right here.”

  Her low voice reached his ears. He turned his head and a wave of nausea swept over him. “I hit my head, didn’t I?” He’d had a concussion once before. This felt exactly like the last time.

  “Yes, you hit it hard when you fell from one end of the car to the other. You have a slight concussion and that gash on your head, so they’re keeping you for observation.”

  He lifted his hand to feel the bandage. “How’s Quinn?”

  “In surgery, but he’s alive.”

  Daniel swallowed. Riley pressed a straw to his lips and he took a long draw on the water. “Thanks, hon. Why does he need surgery?”

  She blinked. “You don’t remember?”

  He searched the black hole that had become his brain. “No.”

  “What do you remember?”

  “Watching the video. Then being bounced like a ball in a pinball machine. Then . . . nothing.”

  “You woke up a couple of times while everything was going on.”

  “I did?” He frowned, searched his memory. And just got blackness. “I don’t remember.”

  She rubbed her eyes. The action emphasized the dark circles under them. “Quinn wasn’t able to get out of the vehicle quite as fast as we did,” Katie said. “When the arm of the backhoe came down the last time, it crushed the car and trapped his lower legs. They’re broken in several places, but not shattered, and the doctor thinks he can put him back together to be good as new.”

  Daniel went still as he processed the information. “I’m sorry.” He had a flash of seeing a crowd of law enforcement officers gathered around the car. “I’m sorry.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I feel like it is,” he murmured.

  “Quinn did what Quinn does. He comes across aloof and haughty, but he’s got a protective streak in him that runs a mile long. He made sure you and I got out before he would even consider trying to escape.”

  “I don’t remember, I’m sorry.”

  “Again, not your fault. You were out cold.”

  He grimaced. “What happened to the guy who was driving the backhoe?”

  Katie sighed. “He got away, believe it or not. After the arm dropped, trapping Quinn, everyone mostly focused on rescuing him.”

  “Who were the people helping?”

  “Good Samaritans. People from nearby stores and people driving by.”

  “Good to know there are those who’ll stop to help others,” he murmured.

  “Yes, unfortunately, one person tried to get the driver of the backhoe and wound up getting shot.” The crack he’d heard. “Everyone else scattered and took cover and the guy ran. The cops looked for him but weren’t able to locate him. No one got a good look at him since it was dark and he had that stupid ski mask on.”

  “Unbelievable.” He took another sip of the water. “Who has that much luck? And how did he even crank the backhoe? How did he get the keys?”

  “It looks like he walked into the trailer they’re using as an office and simply took them.”

  “What? How?”

  “When everyone was clocking out and leaving, there was a lot of chaos. He blended.”

  “Wow. Just . . . wow.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “Any video?”

  “Nothing so far.”

  He shifted on the bed and gave a grunt of pain. “How’s the guy he shot?”

  “Also alive. But the bullet caught him in the chest, so it’s been touch and go. I asked to be informed if there was any change.” She drew in a deep breath. “I’m not going to lie. This guy is clever, he doesn’t want to get caught, and he’s good at taking advantage of the opportunity when it presents itself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He had to have been watching us, following us. He’s probably worried about the investigation into the murder and the fire. By watching us, he thinks he will know what we know when we know it. When we were all piled in the car looking at the video footage, he stole a backhoe and turned it into a lethal weapon—and he knew how to drive it.”

  “Exceedingly well,” Daniel grunted. “So no one could give the cops a description?”

  “Not that I’ve heard. I know they’re still interviewing the construction workers.” She leaned forward, the concern in her eyes deep. “Daniel, he saw an opportunity to take you out and went for it. That was a massive risk for him to do that. For some reason he was willing to take that risk.”

  Daniel’s eyes rested on Riley. She looked shaken and scared. When she caught him watching her, she lifted her chin. “Don’t even say that she shouldn’t talk about this stuff in front of me. I need to know what we’re up against.”

  Daniel sighed. “Yeah. I know.”

  Some of her stiffness eased. “Good. I’m glad we understand that.”

  He looked at Katie. “So what now?”

  “Bree Standish, Quinn’s partner, is going to be taking over as lead on the case, and we’ll be working with her while Quinn recovers. So for now, we’re sort of in wait mode.” She lifted a hand and ticked the items off on her fingers. “We’re waiting on the results of the autopsy of Mr. Armstrong. We’re waiting on reports of witnesses from the incident today. We’re waiting to hear about Billy Kendall and if he’s still incarcerated. We’re just . . . waiting.”

  Weariness hit him and his head ached.

  The sound of movement pulled him from his self-pity. He opened his eyes to see Katie standing. “I’m going to get out of here and let you rest,” she said.

  “I can’t rest. I need to go home. I can’t let Riley stay there by herself.”

  Katie gave a low chuckle. “That’s what you hired us for, remember?”

  “So you’ll be with her tonight?”

  “If not me, someone from the agency.”

  “Or I can just stay here,” Riley said, eyeing the window seat that did double duty as a bed for overnight guests.

  Daniel started to nod, then thought better of it. “No, go home.” He touched his bandage again. “It’s just a concussion. And a slight one at that. I’ll get sprung first thing in the morning—whether they like it or not.”

  Riley pointed a finger at him. “You do what they say, you h
ear me?”

  Daniel bit the inside of his cheek to keep his lips from lifting. He nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

  Tears filled Riley’s eyes. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. Anything else to happen.”

  He reached for her hand, all humor with her bossiness gone, and pulled her down for a hug. “I’m sorry I scared you. Get some sleep, Princess.”

  “The police are working overtime on this, Riley,” Katie said. “They just need some time, but they’ll get this guy.”

  “Before or after he kills someone else?” Riley muttered.

  Daniel sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “He’s not going to kill me, Riley. I’m not going to let him win.”

  Riley’s hand squeezed his. “I hate to tell you, Daniel, but sheer stubbornness won’t keep you safe if he’s really out to get you.” He heard the worry, the fear in her voice. And the desperate need to know he’d be fine.

  “I can take care of myself,” he said.

  She lifted a brow and her eyes raked his wounded, bedridden form. “Yes, I can see that.”

  He started to protest, then stopped. She might have a point. A knock on the door sent shards of pain through his head. The throbbing in his right temple had increased in intensity and his nausea had returned. A nurse who looked to be in her early forties stepped into the room, holding a syringe.

  Daniel tensed. “Is that going to help me or kill me?”

  The woman blanched. “Um. Help you? It’s morphine.”

  A man Daniel had never seen before poked his head around the door and found Katie with his gaze. “She’s clear.”

  Katie nodded, the door shut again, and she turned to Daniel. “That was Charlie. He’s guarding your room and checking IDs of everyone who enters.”

  Daniel almost didn’t care who was who at this point. The pounding in his head was going to send him over the edge into crazy if he didn’t get some relief. The nurse moved and injected the medicine into his IV. Within seconds, the thundering eased and the escape from the pain was sweet.

  His eyes grew heavy, but he caught Katie’s hand as she passed by his bed toward the door. She looked down at him.

  “Thanks,” he whispered.

 

‹ Prev