Taken - Before her very Eyes

by Faubert, Wade

  “And now?”

  There was a slight smirk to Gavin’s mouth before he answered. “Let’s just say I know how to keep my hands clean.”

  Dean held the gun up. “This is keeping it clean?”

  “Not a single fingerprint of mine is on that gun. But yours are all over it.” Gavin walked across the room to the corner bar and set two glasses up, filling them with brandy. “You can borrow it if you want. You never know when it might come in handy.”

  Dean ran his finger over the trigger. If he’d had this with him this morning, Sabrina would be fine right now. He’d have shot that bastard down and would never have let him leave with Sabrina. Feeling a little more relaxed, he set the gun down on the desk beside him and watched as Gavin carefully carried the two glasses of brandy back to the desk.

  “Let’s drink a toast.”

  Dean shook his head. “I don’t feel much like drinking. Not right now.”

  “It’ll do you good.” Gavin forced the glass into his hand. “Take the edge off that stitch job those butchers did.”

  Dean reluctantly raised his glass, wondering if he should mix the Percocet and alcohol together.

  “To working together to find Sabrina.”

  Gavin downed his glass while Dean reluctantly sipped from his.

  “And to brothers.”

  Chapter 9

  The ticking of the clock on the far wall of Chief Dickson’s office was beginning to drive Summer mad. She knew with each second that passed they were coming closer to the deadline to release John Scott. It wasn’t the fact that she had to release a guilty person and allow him to roam free; it was the fact she had to trust in a perfect stranger to keep his half of the deal and set Sabrina free. But could she just let John Scott wander away into the city without having Sabrina at least within arms reach. That was the question that kept nagging away at her stomach. She didn’t know if she could follow through with the demands.

  “So,” Chief Dickson said, unplugging Summer’s cell phone from the charger and sliding it across the desk. “Have you made your decision?”

  After looking Nate in the eyes, Summer nodded. “For the record, it’s not him. Not the man who harmed me.”

  There was definitely sadness in the chief’s eyes. Sadness and anger at what they were about to do. “Well, that’s good enough reason for me to release him. We’ll make it official at nine forty-five and set him free at ten, but don’t worry. He won’t get far. We’ve got his mug shots, his fingerprints and a DNA sample thanks to the spilled blood during the fight in his cell.”

  Nate gave her a reassuring smile. “And I can guarantee he won’t get far. Once the kidnapper releases Sabrina, I’ll be all over that piece of shit. I only hope that the kidnapper and John Scott are together so I can have twice as much fun.”

  Chief Dickson leaned forward on the desk and tented his fingers. “Now, Nate. I strictly forbid you from getting involved in the take down of the two suspects—”

  “What!” Nate shot out of his chair, sending it flying back across the white tiled floor. “What are you saying? You don’t want me there because I might get a little physical with them.”

  “I know damn well that you’ll do everything you can to inflict harm on them both, and not that I disagree with your tactics, I’m thinking about your own welfare. I don’t want you stuck behind a desk for a year while the SIU decides if you went past police protocol and nearly killed them. So that’s why I’m restricting you to only monitor the situation.”

  “Monitor. That’s bullshit!” Nate slammed his hand on the chief’s desk, rattling the family photo and sending the name plate falling face down. “Who’s going to be there to stop them, Jones?”

  “Jones,” Chief Dickson said, righting his name plate and giving Nate a stern glare. “Or whoever is able. But your job is to keep an eye on the situation and if things get bad, then and only then, are you allowed into the mix.”

  Finally Nate smiled and Summer knew no matter what happened he’d get his licks in the fight. Ever since that night he left her side to chase the hit and run driver into the woods, Nate, although he’d never admit it, felt a hundred percent liable for what had happened to her. Summer could see it in his eyes every time she looked his way. He’d never been the same since the day John Scott had thrown her life into the shitter and for Nate’s sake, she hoped he’d get a chance to make things right.

  “But the ransom note only specified to release John Scott and hand him my phone at exactly ten o’clock. How will we know that the kidnapper has released Sabrina?” Summer swallowed hard, trying to hold back the tears which were burning to escape. “And how will we know that she’s still…”

  “She’ll be fine.” Chief Dickson glanced at his family photo on his desk. “Trust me, she’ll—”

  “I know what you’re up to,” Grimshaw said, barging into the office. “And don’t think I’m going to let you release my prisoner.”

  “Your prisoner?” Chief Dickson said. “This is my station and I’m the one calling the shots here.”

  “Not for long. I’ve contacted my superior and notified him about the situation here and what I suspect is being planned. Now, I don’t know what normally goes on in this little city, but it won’t fly with the big boys.”

  Nate stormed across the room, stopping an inch from Grimshaw’s face. “You wanna fly? Hey, I’ll take you to the fucking roof myself and we’ll see how many times your arms flap before you hit the pavement.”

  “Officer Long, you never disappoint me.” Grimshaw brushed past Nate and stood beside Summer, staring down at Chief Dickson. “I’ve told Miss Demure that we won’t negotiate with the kidnapper. We’ll wait for his call and I’ll discuss the terms of the girl’s release.”

  “The girl’s release!” Summer stood and faced the detective. “Do you even know her name? It’s Sabrina. I should know cause I’m her mother.” Summer crossed her twitching arms and stared into Grimshaw’s beady black eyes. “And if I say that John Scott is innocent, then that should be good enough for you.”

  “But he’s not. The preliminary samples from John Scott match the data in the case file.”

  Nate came to Summer’s side. “Who authorized those tests?”

  “I’m the lead officer in this case and I can authorize anything I want. It won’t take long before the lab has a definite DNA match to link him securely as the perpetrator of the crime. And when they do, I’ll have him locked up for the rest of his life.”

  “Please,” Summer begged, “don’t do this detective. I have to let him go. Sabrina’s life depends on it. Besides, he won’t get far. And once Sabrina’s safe, you can put him away for as long as you want because I’m never letting Sabrina out of my arms again.”

  “That all sound fine and dandy, but what if he gets away? What if he skips the county and we never find him again?”

  Summer drew a shaky breath and wiped the tears from her eyes. “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

  Grimshaw snatched the cell phone from the desk. “Well, I’m not.” He attempted to slip the phone into his pocket, but Nate was too fast. He grabbed the detective’s wrist with his large hand, and by the look on Grimshaw’s face Nate was squeezing with all his might.

  “Officer Long,” Grimshaw said, gritting his teeth and fighting to pull his arm free. “You’re interfering with a police investigation.”

  “Correction,” Nate began twisting Grimshaw’s wrist until his knees buckled and he dropped to the floor. “I’m apprehending a thief right now and if you continue to resist, I will be forced to use alternative measures to subdue you.”

  “Fine!” Grimshaw opened his hand and let Nate take the phone. “But this is far from over.”

  “By my calculations,” Nate said, grinning from ear to ear. “It should be over in about forty-five minutes.”

  Grimshaw turned, flexed his right hand repeatedly and fixed Nate with a look of pure hatred before storming to the office door. He trained those beady black eyes on Su
mmer. “If you go ahead with your plan and release John Scott, you’ll live to regret it.”

  “May I remind you, detective,” Summer said, getting to her feet and walking halfway across the room. “That it’s because of you that my daughter is out there right now in the hands of a madman.”

  Grimshaw arched an eyebrow, turned and stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind.

  “I was hoping that he would’ve just stayed out of this,” Chief Dickson said, rounding the desk and standing next to Nate. “But I’m glad you’ve still got those vise-like hands.”

  “Comes in handy for opening bottles, too.” Nate walked to Summer’s side and placed an arm around her shoulder. “Or for snapping John Scott’s neck if need be.”

  “Those hands could explain why you don’t have a girl friend. Women love a tender caress,” Summer felt his hand tighten on her shoulder, “not a bone crunching massage.”

  There was a knock on the door and a second later, Jones stepped inside. His thin face was flushed and his clothing covered in dirt and mud. It looked like he’d just come from a day on the farm.

  “Stephens and Malroy sent me back, said I was getting in their way, but I don’t think I was. I was only trying to help. They’re still busy dusting for prints and searching the farmhouse for clues. Also, we’ve towed Officer Demure’s car and placed it inside the service bay.”

  “Very good, Jones.” Chief Dickson walked to the doorway and glanced out into the station. “And how’s the crowd control coming along?”

  “It’s getting worse. News vans keep pulling in every few minutes. It’s like a circus out there.”

  “Then guess what? I’m appointing you Circus Master, in charge of all three rings.”

  Jones gave the chief a queer look, then turned to leave. “Oh, I almost forgot. They said the sketch artist went to see Mr. Demure at the hospital, but he wasn’t there.”

  “Wasn’t there?” Summer felt the pressure building in her head. “But he has to be there.”

  “No, they’re sure he’s not. They said he must’ve slipped out the back door. The whole hospital is in a panic. They say Mr. Demure isn’t in any condition to be out walking around and they want him brought back in as soon as we see him.”

  “Yeah, good luck with that.” Summer felt terrible at the way she’d left Dean back at the hospital and knew she was partly responsible for him taking off. How could she blame him for leaving? After all, she’d have done the same thing if put in his position. Summer prayed that he’d be all right, because the last thing she needed right now was to be worrying over him, too. “Cause if he’s got something on his mind then there’s nothing you or I can say that will stop him.”

  Nate raised an eyebrow. “What about the loss of blood?”

  Summer rolled her eyes. “We’ll just have to hope the doctors did a good job patching him up then, won’t we?”

  Jones took out his note pad. “But where would he take off to?”

  “Probably home or the office.” Summer let Nate escort her out into the main area of the station. “Or searching the entire city door by door.”

  Summer watched as Jones tracked more muddy footprints back across the white floor, toward the front glass doors. He stopped, holding the door open and noticed the mess he’d just made in the station.

  “Oh, crap, Chief. I’m sorry. I’ll clean that up when I get back.”

  “Just go.” Chief Dickson shook his head. “Someone else will take care of it. You’ve got a job to do right now.”

  Jones nodded and disappeared out into the sea of reporters.

  “That,” Nate said, hitching his thumb at Jones’s disappearing act, “is why you’ve gotta get better and come back to work. I heard the chief talking about partnering me up with him, and you know that’ll never work. I’ll kill him. Not because I don’t like the kid, just because he irritates the hell right out of me.”

  Chapter 10

  Chief Dickson stared through the small glass window at the slouching form behind the desk, then turned around and saw every eye in the station was watching him. He had a bad feeling about what he was about to do and would have given anything to wipe this whole mess clean.

  After running his fingers through what was left of his short white hair and tugging the tails of his jacket down, Chief Dickson exhaled as he turned the knob and stepped inside the interrogation room.

  “Mr. Scott.” He paused, waiting for the prisoner to acknowledge him, but like normal, John Scott refused to be even the least bit cooperative. “I have some good news.”

  John Scott gave a bored sigh and slipped a little lower in the chair.

  “You’re free to go.”

  It took John Scott a few seconds before he responded. He cocked his head and slowly lifted his chin until his swollen, slitted eyes were peering at Chief Dickson. He appeared to be waiting for the punch line to be delivered, and why wouldn’t he. He knew he was guilty and that they had him dead to rights, but still there must have been something in the way the chief had said those words because a pained toothless smile spread across John Scott’s face.

  “What the fuck’s going on?” He tipped his chin in the chief’s direction. “You jerking my chain?”

  “No, I wish I was.” Chief Dickson felt his stomach churn at the thought of what this man had done to Summer, and who knows what else he was guilty of, and now he was about to be set free. It went against everything he pledged to do for the community, but how could he not? If something happened to Sabrina because of his decision, he didn’t know how he’d go on living. This one was for Summer.

  “We’ve made a mistake and you’re free to go.”

  John Scott sat up in the chair and strained to open his blackened, swollen eyelids as wide as possible. “Just like that?” He glanced from Chief Dickson to the open door behind. “I can walk right out that door and nobody’s going to stop me?”

  Chief Dickson nodded and stood back, making the pathway to the door wider. “There’s not enough evidence to hold you on, so we’re forced to release you, but please, don’t leave the country. We may need to ask you some further questions as the case progresses.”

  John Scott slid the chair back and his smile widened, splitting his lip and sending a trickle of blood from the crusted corner of his mouth. He raised his hand and waved it around his face. “This is why you’re letting me go. You don’t want me to report this to anybody.”

  “Report it if you want,” Chief Dickson said. “I’ve already talked to the guard on duty and steps have been taken to prevent another such incidence.”

  “Incident. It wasn’t an incident and you know it! There were plenty of empty cells, but that guard put that sadistic fucker in with me.”

  “What can I say? We’re not used to getting this many visitors in our jail at one time. Besides, why dirty two holding cells when one is more than adequate?”

  John Scott stood and stared out the door into the crowded station. He seemed to be contemplating whether to leave or stay and Chief Dickson couldn’t believe that he was still lingering around, considering what he’d done and how much evidence they had against him. If it was him, Chief Dickson would’ve run as fast as he could and never stopped until he was outside the Chatham line.

  “Well, are you ready to go?” Chief Dickson glanced at his watch, noting how close time was running. “We can gather your belongings at the admissions counter and you can be on your way in no time.”

  John Scott dropped back into his chair. “And what if I don’t want to leave?”

  Chief Dickson couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t you want to leave?”

  “I’m just saying, what if I want to stick around and press charges against the guard who let this happen to me?”

  “That’s not going to happen. You go out and find yourself a nice lawyer and then come back and we’ll discuss what happened with him. But,” Chief Dickson stepped to the side of the table and leaned down, placing his palms on
the surface, “this is a limited time offer. You either get up and walk out this door with me right now, or I’ll send you away for the rest of your fucking life!”

  John Scott leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “I thought you didn’t have the evidence to keep me?”

  “I’ll get it one way or the other. I don’t care if I have to frame you for the crimes, because I know what you did to my officer and I’ll make you pay for that.” Chief Dickson stood and walked to the door. “It’s now nine forty-five. You have exactly five minutes to come out of this room, gather your shit and get the fuck out of my life, or this door will be closed and you’ll only leave when they transfer you to the prison or,” Chief Dickson lowered his voice, “cart your lifeless body out in a bag. Do you understand me?”

  John Scott seemed to be weighing his options. There was little doubt of his guilt, and he had to have known they would gather enough evidence to put him away for a long time. But still there was a look of trepidation on his face and that look troubled Chief Dickson. There was something he was hiding.

  Slowly John Scott rose to his feet, cautiously making his way across the room. He stopped at the doorway, staring out into the sea of reporters gathered in the parking lot and the sight seemed to brighten his day.

  Chief Dickson realized at that moment that John Scott was planning on playing the assault to the media, hoping to create such a stir that if they tried to convict him again, a jury would take it into consideration while sentencing him. But somehow Chief Dickson didn’t see this guy waiting around to be picked up a second time. That’s exactly why they would have to keep him on a short leash and not let him get out of their sights.

  The second John Scott stepped out into the main room of the police station, a blinding surge of lights began flashing from every window. Normally Chief Dickson would’ve ordered the barricades to be backed to the edge of the road, forcing the reporters to work harder for a good shot, but the truth of the matter was he’d never seen this many reporters in one place in all his career.