Escaping Vegas (The Inheritance Book 1)

Home > Other > Escaping Vegas (The Inheritance Book 1) > Page 17
Escaping Vegas (The Inheritance Book 1) Page 17

by Danielle Bourdon


  He wasn’t anywhere near an exit, either, to make use of backstreets and alternate routes.

  Dialing Thaddeus’s number, he waited through two and a half rings before his brother picked up.

  “What did you forget?” Thaddeus asked.

  “I need you to look up Madalina’s cell phone number.”

  “You still don’t have it?”

  “We’ve been a little preoccupied. I didn’t think to ask her while we were running for our lives.” Cole tapped his thumb on the steering wheel, watching the flow of vehicular traffic creep along the freeway. He heard Thaddeus tapping keys on a laptop, accessing the needed details. Minutes later Thaddeus read him the number. Cole memorized the digits, hung up with his brother, and dialed Madalina’s phone.

  It rang four times, then went to voice mail.

  “I wanted to let you know that I’m on my way back. Traffic is snarled as far as the eye can see, so it might be another half hour before I hit Whittier.” He ended the call and pulled up a street map, looking for the closest exit.

  If he could get off the freeway, maybe he could make better time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Jolted awake by the sprinkle of ice water on her cheeks, Madalina blinked and jerked in the chair. Her vision swam briefly, making a watery landscape of darks and lights and hovering silhouettes. As focus returned, more details emerged. Gray metal walls, exposed overhead pipes, windows blotted by peeling green tint. The distressed cement floor had cracks and stains from long years of hard use. Two or three single utility lights chased back the shadows from the metal chair she sat on, and also highlighted the faces of three men who watched her return to the waking world with curious, if intense, patience. Their features were, unsurprisingly, Asian.

  Madalina tugged at her bound wrists, secured by rope to the sides of the seat. She couldn’t loosen the ropes, not even an inch. Her gaze landed on the lead man, who held a small bowl of water in his hands, which he promptly handed off to one of his acquaintances. Madalina took in their dark clothing, neatly cropped hair, and gloved hands. The men were slim yet sleekly muscled, the snug fit of their high-necked, long-sleeved shirts outlining the narrow contours of their bodies. When the lead man spoke, he did so with heavily accented English.

  “Welcome back,” he said, the soul of courtesy.

  “Where am I?” Madalina knew what the men were capable of. She’d seen their determination in Vegas, on the road to California, during the chase at her house. But she responded to the cordial tone, the calm demeanor, desperate to keep things from spiraling out of control.

  “It matters not where you are, but where the dragon is. Please save us more effort and disclose its location.” The man lowered his head with his request, clasping his hands behind his back.

  “I don’t know where the dragon is,” Madalina said, and that was the truth. She had no idea where Cole had hidden the dragon. She also didn’t know why the agents had come after her, when Cole had made it clear that a deal was under way. Perhaps there was miscommunication between the agents, or maybe they didn’t believe that Cole actually had the dragon.

  “But you must know. You have had it all along.” The lead man cocked his head another inch, as if appealing to Madalina for better answers.

  “I did have it, yes. I don’t any longer. Someone stole it from my house.” Not her house technically, but the men didn’t have to know that.

  The lead man said something in Chinese to one of his companions. Madalina glanced between them, wishing she could understand what had been said. She had the impression that the men believed her, but she couldn’t say why.

  Although she was intimidated by the agents, they did not make overt gestures to scare her. There were no trays or tables with frightening instruments of torture, nor did the men openly expose weapons. They’re probably skilled at delivering pain with just their hands, she thought to herself. They don’t need scalpels or nails or hammers.

  She shuddered at the imagery in her head.

  Looking back at her, the lead man said, “We can corroborate that someone else has admitted to having the dragon. Since you are here, you understand that it’s relevant to inquire. To make sure he was telling the truth.”

  “Yes. And he does have it.” Madalina didn’t feel as if she was throwing Cole under the bus; as far as she knew, the Chinese agents had been contacted and already knew that a plan was under way for the exchange.

  “He. You mean the man in the black car? The one who helped you escape in Nevada?”

  Unprepared for the direct question, Madalina figured it was best to stick as close to the truth as possible. She couldn’t be sure how much the Chinese men knew, and if they were testing her for truth. Perhaps they’d known all along Cole had been there and would retaliate if she lied. Suddenly, she felt out of her element. Nervous. “Yes.”

  “And where is he now?”

  “I don’t know. We had a fight, and he left.”

  “What did you have a fight about?”

  “A difference of opinion regarding our . . . relationship.” Madalina struggled through the latter half of the explanation.

  The lead man inclined his head once more. “Now then. Tell us where you acquired the dragon, hmm?”

  She licked her lips. Glanced to the far wall. To a bare, dripping pipe, and back to the agent again. Too late, Madalina realized she’d given herself away by diverting her attention elsewhere than him. He had a knowing expression on his face now, one that suggested he knew she was thinking up lies. She feared how much trouble she might get into if she couldn’t tell them all they wanted to know. “I inherited it.”

  “From who?”

  “My grandfather.”

  “Where is your grandfather now?”

  “He’s dead.” Madalina couldn’t suppress the tremble in her voice. The three agents conversed quietly in their own language before the lead agent began again.

  “Did he leave you any other dragons?” the agent asked.

  “No. I don’t know anything about any other dragons. He never mentioned them to me, didn’t leave me a note explaining what it was, or what to do with the one I have . . . had.”

  “What about your parents? Or the woman you have been hiding out with? Is she related to you?” he asked, a shrewd gleam entering his dark eyes.

  “They don’t know anything. Any of them. They’re more in the dark than I am.” Madalina heard desperation creep into her voice.

  “If you cannot come up with any new information, we’ll have to question them nevertheless . . .” The agent let the threat trail.

  “No!” Madalina, horrified at the thought of her parents or Lianne suffering the same interrogation, realized there were far more sinister threats than screwdrivers, needles, and knives. The thought of the agents abducting her folks or Lianne was unthinkable, unconscionable. She understood the agents were using this to try and get her to talk. “You can’t. My parents don’t have any other dragons, and Lianne . . . she’s innocent and knows nothing.”

  The Chinese man arched a brow, as if to say, My hands are tied. I’ll do what I have to.

  “I’m telling you. They know nothing. Just take the dragon that used to be mine and look elsewhere. You won’t find any more information from my family or friends.” Madalina swallowed a lump in her throat, terrified that the agents might turn to physical “encouragement” to loosen her tongue.

  Please, God. Not that.

  Pulling up in front of Lianne’s, Cole cut the engine, snatched the keys from the ignition, and closed the door after he got out with more force than he meant to. Stalking around the front of the Jaguar, daring anyone to confront or mess with him, he closed in on Lianne’s door and banged three times to get Madalina’s attention. She hadn’t answered his messages, hadn’t answered her phone. He expected several more hours of intense discussion and had decided, while sitting in tra
ffic for what felt like forever, that he wasn’t leaving until he’d made some kind of peace with her.

  The door flew open, and a bat appeared. Cole barely had time to rear his head out of the way as Lianne took a swing; he caught the end, the aluminum slapping hard against his palm.

  Lianne’s features, twisted into a mask of determination and fury, suddenly went slack when she got a good look at Cole. “I thought you were—”

  Cole spoke over her. “I know you’re pissed, but you don’t have to get radical.”

  “I thought you were them!” Lianne whispered, eyes darting frantically left and right. As if the Chinese agents might appear any second.

  “No, no. Haven’t you talked to Madalina? Didn’t she tell you that I made an arrangement? She should be off their radar now.” Cole eased the bat from Lianne’s hand when she refocused on him and frowned. She looked worked up, ready to do battle in someone’s name.

  “I have a whole other beef with you, Cole West, that has to do with you using my best friend. She doesn’t—”

  Cole held up his other hand, halting the rant he knew was coming. “I explained all this to Madalina. Yes, I took the dragon, but it was to help her, not because I’m going to sell it to someone else. I’m going to give it to the agents, let the Chinese government have it back, so that she doesn’t have to keep running. All right? I could stand here and tell you all this, again, but why don’t you get Madalina and we can all have a discussion?”

  When he peered past Lianne into the house, he couldn’t see anything but the vague outline of her living room furniture. That was when he realized there wasn’t one light on inside or out. He held the bat, now in his possession, down at his side.

  “Why are you asking me to get her? Isn’t she with you?” Lianne asked, her voice shifting from accusatory to puzzled.

  Cole’s gaze snapped back to Lianne. “If she was, she would be standing next to me. She’s not here?”

  “No, she’s not. I came home to a dark and empty house. Madalina isn’t here—I thought she went with you. Even though she shouldn’t have, after what you did.”

  “Why are all the lights off?” he asked. Something didn’t feel right about the situation. He didn’t think Madalina would have taken off at night, by herself—but then, maybe she had. Maybe she’d been upset after he left and wanted time away from the house.

  “I don’t know. I can’t get anything to work. I even called the electric company, but they said they’d already had a report that the lights were out here earlier. Except no one else in the neighborhood’s lights are out . . .” Lianne stepped back, swinging the door wide. A silent invitation.

  “You haven’t talked to her since you left earlier?” Cole went straight into search mode. He carried the bat with him as he went room to room, calling for Madalina. Looking for clues.

  “No, no. Cole, did you upset her so much that she took off? Did you two have a big fight? It’s not like her to go without at least leaving a note,” Lianne called down the hallway.

  In the spare bedroom, where racks upon racks of clothes filled most of the available space, he found an open window. The screen on the outside was missing. By the time he got back to the living area, Lianne had closed and locked the front door and lit two candles. A flashlight sat on the kitchen table, which he picked up and turned on. He flashed the beam this way and that: into the kitchen, across the table, over the back door.

  “Did you leave the bedroom window open?” he asked.

  “What bedroom window?” Lianne asked. “I didn’t leave any windows open. We had most of them blocked with—”

  “Yeah, I noticed the dowels. But the spare bedroom’s window is open, and the screen is off.” Cole didn’t like this turn of events. Not at all. Something was wrong—he could feel it in his gut.

  “I didn’t leave any windows open and haven’t taken off any screens for sure. I know for a fact that all the screens were on when we secured the house.” Lianne rubbed her hands together in a fretful, worried way. “My car is still in the garage, too. I told her that she could use it if she had to. If there was an emergency. So she didn’t leave that way.”

  “She’s not answering her phone, either. But I don’t see it sitting around,” he said, flashing the light here and there. He turned up nothing, no hints or clues about where Madalina had gone. He knew, though. Down deep, he knew.

  “Let’s try to call again.” Lianne pulled her phone from her pocket.

  Cole stepped closer when an idea occurred. “Do you have one of those tracking apps on your phone? Where you can pull up the location of friends and family?”

  “Yes. Madalina and I use it when we plan to meet for lunch or shopping—”

  Cole didn’t wait. Taking Lianne’s phone, he sought the application on a screen filled with icons, punched the symbol for Madalina, then watched as the screen turned to a grid. Lianne peered over his shoulder as the grid continued to re-enhance until a steady blue blip made itself known among the streets of Whittier. This was going to make his task much easier. And faster.

  “Got it. Is this anywhere Madalina might be? Do you recognize the location? Is it your shop or something?” Cole tilted the glowing screen toward Lianne despite the fact that she could see well enough.

  “No, that’s not anywhere close to the boutique. As far as I know, Madalina wouldn’t have any reason to be there.” Lianne frowned as she stared at the grid.

  “I need to take your phone with me. The locator is steady right now, but if it starts to move, if Madalina decides to drive away from here, this is the only way I can track her.” Cole wouldn’t take no for an answer. He stepped away from Lianne as the blonde made a noise of protest.

  “But what if she tries to call me? That’s my phone, Cole.”

  “She’ll get me instead. I’ll bring it back when I find her and we work this out. Promise.” Cole stepped to the door and out into the night amid Lianne’s stammering protests. This was the best lead he had on Madalina’s whereabouts, and he wasn’t leaving it behind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Two streets from the blinking blue dot, Cole scanned the derelict area with a wary eye.

  This had probably once been a thriving commerce district—the square, flat buildings home to workshops, manufacturers, car repair shops, and any number of other necessary businesses. With the advent of expansion, the business owners had set out for higher ground, and structures with more modern conveniences. Cockeyed chain-link fences encircled some of the buildings; others stood in a pit of cracked asphalt.

  Intuition told him that Madalina wouldn’t come here unless absolutely necessary. This wasn’t a jaunt she’d taken on her own behalf. The agents had her; he was sure of it. After his careful planning, after making agreements that he’d expected the agents to honor, the agents had come and taken her anyway.

  His fury knew no bounds.

  Pulling into a lot just south of Madalina’s location, he parked the Jaguar around the back of a building with a decaying Auto Repair sign out front. Leaving the car in the shadows, he tucked a gun into the back waistband of his pants and, with Lianne’s phone in hand, traversed the rest of the distance on foot. Instinct cautioned him to creep along the back of the abandoned buildings, where he would remain mostly unseen. The crack and snap of shattered glass and other debris forced him to go slower, to find foot placements that weren’t so noisy upon approach. The closer he got to Madalina—or at least the location of her phone—the more he moved into stealth mode. Years of experience taught him to go into the unknown with extreme caution; if he found Madalina alone, no harm done. If she was with the agents, then his caution would serve him well.

  The structure he homed in on was a whitewashed one-story building with a high ceiling. Small-paned windows lined the upper half of the walls, with several larger windows overlooking a parking lot, which was in a little better shape than the one he’d just
passed through. Old tint peeled away from the corners of the glass, allowing a diffused glow to bleed through. Cole couldn’t tell if it was a light from inside or a refraction of a streetlamp. He scanned the exterior for signs of a sedan, for any car at all, and found nothing. With only a partial view of the parking lot, he couldn’t discern if the agents were parked on the other side of the structure or out near the curb, out of sight. The blue blinking dot remained steady, still.

  Backtracking around the auto repair shop, using it for cover, Cole approached the front of the structure to get a view of the street. He wanted to know if a car was sitting next to the curb, either parked or broken-down.

  Nothing. No sedan, no sign of Madalina. He didn’t see anyone loitering on the sidewalk either, indicating she was either on the opposite side of the building—labeled Brakes and Inspections—or inside.

  Movement under the front awning drew his gaze. From his vantage point, Cole observed someone pacing before a single door, as if keeping watch. At night, with only the streetlamps spilling illumination onto the roadways, it was almost impossible to make out fine details. He knew it wasn’t Madalina by the stalk and the stride. This figure was too predatory, too well versed in the art of stealth and concealment. Moving back the way he came, Cole followed the side of the auto shop to the rear. Bypassing the Jaguar, he timed a run across the lot, bent low with his gun in his hand, until he pulled up outside the brakes and inspections area with his spine pressed against the wall. He swooped low, then inched up just enough to peer through a windowpane, ever aware that another guard might come around the corner any second.

  Unsure what he was expecting to see, Cole found himself shocked by the grim reality: Madalina strapped to a chair in the middle of the gloomy room. There was a small light shining overhead, the brightness muddled by the peeling tint and dirt covering the windowpane. Three men stood before Madalina’s chair, not too close but not too far, and appeared to be questioning her.

 

‹ Prev