by Robin Perini
Why couldn’t her sister be like other kids? Deb placed her empty glass in the sink and foraged for a handful of granola. “Well, behave yourself. Your imagination is a little too creative sometimes, and the morals depicted in those games are questionable at best.” Deb tempered her tone, knowing she’d get nowhere with Ashley. “I have enough to worry about with everyone in the family deployed to the Middle East right now. I don’t need you in jail, too.”
Ashley saluted. “Yes, ma’am. Orders duly noted. Pretend games only. Maintain my integrity. Got it covered, Admiral Lansing.”
Deb laughed at the nickname Ashley had stuck her with. So she was bossy where her little sister was concerned. Ashley’s moniker for her might have been General Lansing, but their father had already laid claim to that title. Deb hadn’t stayed in the Army long enough to give him any real competition for the rank.
She took in the impish look on her sister’s face. “You’re lucky I love you, brat, because you are truly a wiseass. That mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble someday.”
“That’s not what Justin says.” Ashley batted her eyelashes and smiled.
“Great. Now I have something else to worry about.” Deb glanced at her watch. “You have school in the morning and I don’t like you traveling the roads this late at night, even if it is interstate most of the way. Why don’t you stay over and leave early in the morning? I’ll call in for you.”
Ashley shook her head with a sigh. “I promised the guy I’d get his car back before weekend curfew and I’m really going to have to push it to make it.” She collected her books and slipped them into her backpack. “Besides, I’ve been trying to reach Justin by phone all day with no luck. His cell service is terrible. It’s so spotty, half the time I can’t get him unless he’s in an empty field pointing his phone at the tower. I want to give him another call when I get back to school.”
Deb walked Ashley to the door. “Are you sure?”
“I’ll be fine. I . . . I needed to tell someone. Things feel a tad off, I guess.”
“Let me know if you get any more hang ups or anything else weird happens. I worry about you. Justin and Mylo’s info is in the address book in case you’re off campus. Right?”
“Yes, Admiral, everything’s there, along with all the school numbers, my roommate’s cell, etcetera. Talk about an overreaction. You are so anal sometimes.”
“Hey, pipsqueak. You’re the one who got antsy. And you’re not the easiest person to keep track of, you know. I like to have every contingency covered.”
Ashley buttoned up her coat and arranged her scarf around her neck. “Look, the phone stuff is probably nothing. Besides, I’m almost seventeen. I’m invincible, remember?”
“The kids I transported to the hospital today thought so, too. Humor me and be careful.”
“Yes, mother. I love you, too.”
Deb rolled her eyes. “Go. You’re driving me nuts. And be safe.”
Ashley hugged her, and Deb held her sister tight. She was going to be an amazing woman someday. Scary amazing, actually. Emotion clogged Deb’s throat. The truth was, she’d been a surrogate parent to Ashley ever since their mother had died of cancer when the little girl was only five, and the General had walled the whole family out in his grief. The protective maternal role was hard to give up.
Deb watched Ashley until she drove away, closed the door, and walked back into the empty apartment. A tremor of foreboding ripped through her. It almost felt like a premonition, like that feeling she got in Afghanistan when everything was about to go to hell. She raced to the door to tell her sister to come back, but the taillights had disappeared down the road.
She should call her sister’s phone and insist she spend the night, despite the need to get the car back to her classmate—
No. Deb cursed and shut the door. She was being ridiculous. Nothing was going to happen. She’d text Ashley tomorrow and reassure herself that she’d worried all night for nothing.
No cars clogged the normally congested I-25 south toward Colorado Springs. The moon hung high overhead, the air cool and crisp. The smell of snow was in the air. Ashley couldn’t wait for a school break so she could teach Justin to ski. He’d look so good in ski pants.
She turned up the radio and flicked through stations when an electronic beep sounded in the car. What the heck?
She looked down at the dashboard, her focus finally settling on the warning light. No way. A near-empty gas gauge? She’d filled up just before she went to Deb’s apartment. Someone must have siphoned off most of the tank while she was visiting her sister. She gritted her teeth. Perfect ending to a screwed-up weekend.
It didn’t help she’d had the creepy crawlies up and down her back throughout the whole drive. Talk about paranoid. She could have sworn someone was watching her, but she never even saw headlights in the rearview mirror most of the last ten miles.
Get a grip, Ashley, or you’ll turn into Dad.
Her father thought she was a helpless idiot. She wasn’t. Her sister had taught her how to handle herself in any situation. She had a 170 IQ, for heaven’s sake. Even at sixteen, the workload at the Academy didn’t challenge her that much. She glanced around, trying to place where she was. After so many trips to her sister’s house, she’d memorized most every exit, and that dumpy all-night gas station was coming up soon. She’d have to stop even though they sold the equivalent of camel piss as high-octane fuel. Extremely high-priced camel piss, at that.
Over the next hill, she saw the sign for the service station, the lights a beacon in the dark. At least she wouldn’t have to call Deb to tell her what an idiot she’d been not to have checked the gas gauge before leaving Denver.
Being a helicopter pilot, her sister obsessively checked everything, fuel and safety features alike, before moving an inch. She’d tried to teach Ashley to do the same. Apparently, the lesson hadn’t taken very well.
Ashley flipped on the blinker and pulled off the highway, the car shuddering on its last fumes. That’s all she needed, to seize the engine or something. The poor, beat-up sedan had seen better days. Now, Ashley prayed it would survive until she reached the Academy and gave it back to its owner.
She turned the ignition off and looked around. For an all-night station, the place sure looked deserted. The lights above her blinked, then flashed off, plunging the area into darkness.
Ashley froze, peering outside through the window.
Deb always told her to listen to her instincts. Right now, they were screaming that she should have stayed in town. She caught movement in her peripheral vision and slammed her hand down on the door lock, but it was too late. Someone had already ripped the door open.
The interior light flickered on. Screaming, she kicked out at the black-clad man trying to pull her from the car.
“Help! Please, someone help me!”
“Yell all you want, kid. No one around to hear you.”
She screamed as massive arms pulled her body from the car and dragged her toward another vehicle. He tried to shove her into the back of a huge SUV, but she fought him. He slammed her head against the door frame, nearly knocking her unconscious.
With a final kick, she caught him in the crotch. He dropped her to the ground and she struggled to regain her footing. His backhand left her ears ringing and blood coursed down her split lip. The man grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked her head close. “Stay down or I’ll hit you again, and this time I won’t be gentle.”
A blond man approached and her attacker said, “Grab her legs and watch out. She’s a wild one.”
The blond gripped her ankles and held her tight, grinning at her as they lifted her from the ground. She twisted and turned. She couldn’t let them take her.
A third man opened the rear hatch further, and they threw her roughly into the vehicle. When she tried to rise, the blond backhanded her across the face. “What did we
tell you?”
She sagged. Oh God. She was going to die. She couldn’t keep a whimper from escaping.
The blond bent close, his voice no more than a whisper. “No use fighting. You’re coming with us. Do as you’re told, or you’ll die.”
“Please. Just let me go. I won’t tell anyone—”
“Damn right about that.” He chuckled and yanked out a few zip ties from his pocket and grabbed her wrists.
“Wait! You don’t know what you’re doing. My father is in the Army and he’ll kick your ass if you don’t let me go.”
The man bound her wrists with the tie and bent closer, laughing. “Your father is in Kandahar and by the time Daddy Dearest gets here, Ashley, there won’t be a trace of you left to follow.”
Her eyes widened. “You know who I am?”
“Oh, yeah. Ashley Lansing, math prodigy, code breaker and Einstein-level genius. Accepted at the Air Force Academy at age sixteen, the youngest ever, even though teenagers your age aren’t really allowed in the military. For you, they made an exception.
“Your father is Army General George Lansing, bastard extraordinaire. Your brothers are Richard and Benjamin Lansing, also serving overseas. One sister, Deborah, an ex-Army helicopter pilot, is now doing Flight for Life and Search and Rescue out of Denver, whatever allows her to fly the most. Mother deceased, probably to escape your father. Did I miss anything you needed to hear to believe me, or do you want me to start on your bra size and color of your panties next?”
A tear trickled down her cheek. She stopped fighting.
“We know everything about you, Miss Lansing. Move against us, and we’ll retaliate against everyone you love. Starting with your adoring sister.”
Ashley went limp. Oh God. Deb.
He placed zip ties on Ashley’s ankles, then attached one loop to a hook in the floor. “That’s better. You know, I was once in your place, but I was smart and I survived. Be smart and you might make it through this alive, too. Be stupid and . . . well, let’s just say you won’t be the first person I would have to get rid of for my boss. It’s kind of my specialty. And I do love my work.”
The metal tailgate slammed, closing Ashley in the cargo space of the SUV. Her phone was in the car. She had no way to contact Deb. Would her classmate report the car missing if she didn’t show up? Would she be considered AWOL for not signing in before curfew? With luck, the police might start looking for her tonight.
Ashley scooted as far as she could, using her hands to feel her way around her. Nothing. Smooth steel. She pulled against the zip ties, but the hard plastic just bit into her wrists. She kicked the back door, hoping she could at least break the back taillight somehow.
The side door opened. The blond man looked behind. “Didn’t I hit you hard enough to make my point? It’s no use trying to escape. You belong to us now.”
The guy with reddish hair, cut close to his scalp, bent down. “You owe me for that crotch kick, and I will collect.”
He smiled at her, but his eyes were dead. He had no soul. None of them did.
Ashley sent up a prayer. Deb would look for her. Everyone would. They would find her. She had to believe that.
The third man approached on the passenger side and looked at the blond. “What do you want me to do?”
“We already went over this. After we’re gone, clean up the situation,” the leader replied. “Reset the videotape, then take her car to the bus terminal closest to the Academy and leave the note inside. The night clerk here will wake up on his own and think he fell asleep. Be sure to grab the spiked drink bottle so there’ll be no evidence.”
The blond slid behind the steering wheel. “Don’t make any mistakes. You know what happens to employees who screw up.” He paused. “I’d hate to lose you like we did Rogers.”
The guy gulped, then nodded. “Sure, Niko. No mistakes.”
The man’s eyes flared, his tone harsh. “That was a mistake right there. Never say my name away from camp.”
The guy panicked.
“Don’t worry. This kid won’t be telling anyone, but that’s your last warning.”
Niko turned the key in the ignition and the SUV rumbled to life. After shifting gears, he pulled the black Escalade out of the gas station. Ashley peered out the rear-tinted window and watched one of the station’s dimmer lights flicker back on. The place still looked closed. No one would stop.
Her eyes burned as even that light was swallowed up by the darkness.
“Where are you taking me?” She wished her voice didn’t sound so scared. Deb never showed fear. Ashley wouldn’t, either. “What camp? A militia camp?”
“Try to think of it as computer camp for prodigies,” Niko said, laughing at her question. “You’ve been a very bad girl, Miss Lansing. Your little foray into the NSA’s computer has cost us. So, when we arrive, the Warden will want your assistance. I suggest you agree to do everything he says. For your sake, and the sake of your family.”
He glanced over his shoulder, staring intently at her. “Otherwise, Ashley Lansing, you get to play with me. And I guarantee you won’t like my kind of games.”
* * *
CHAPTER THREE
* * *
SAMMY’S BAR SHOWED its true colors as closing time drew near. Raucous laughter sounded from a corner, but it barely registered. He couldn’t get Deb out of his mind, hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her all evening long.
“It’s showing on your face,” Hawk said with a grin. “Did you at least get her phone number?”
Damn it. She’d scrambled his brains so much he didn’t have any way to contact her. Was she listed? He’d find out once he got home. If not, he had a brother who could dig out practically any information on anyone. Family came in handy sometimes.
“Man, she must have rung your bell in your office.” Hawk chuckled. “You looked shell-shocked coming out of there. I knew I should have gone after her myself.”
Gabe grabbed Hawk’s collar. “One more word, and you’re fired. Not joking, Hawk.”
The bartender’s eyes narrowed to disturbing slits, then he blinked and the murderous gaze dissipated. “Interesting. You’re serious about her. Guess I proved my point then.”
Gabe released Hawk. “Was there a reason my brother didn’t kill you when you two were overseas?”
“Sorry, I seem to be indestructible, unfortunately. Besides, you need me for your side job. Who else is going to watch your back?” Hawk stacked some clean glasses behind the bar. “Deb will probably be back. Maybe. If you didn’t scare her off.” He turned to the next customer.
Probably best if Gabe had, though he couldn’t imagine anything intimidating Deb. Still, she’d never let her guard down with him that way before. He hadn’t been ready for the intensity simmering between them, and now he regretted losing control. Trouble was, he was in no position to start a relationship. Even if his investigation hadn’t gone anywhere yet, the whole thing could explode at any moment. If his brother Luke’s investigation held any truth—and Gabe had no doubt it did—more than a few people had died trying to bring Jeff Gasmerati down, plus whoever in the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office had hitched a ride on the wrong side of the law.
Speaking of dirty cops, three deputies strode through the door. Bad news, but Gabe forced a smile anyway. “You’re just in time for last call, gents. What can I get you?”
Within minutes, Gabe had pulled two beers on tap and sent a double shot of straight whiskey to the last cop. Menken downed it, then asked for another.
“Get a table,” he growled at his companions.
Gabe didn’t mention closing time again, even though he wanted to. His Jeffco captain, John Garrison, had told Gabe to watch these three specifically. John’s suspicions ran deep with them. A few pieces of missing evidence in their key cases and a few too many closed-door meetings with Gabe’s prime suspect, Sheriff Towe
r.
Everyone else in the office tried to avoid that slippery bastard, so the fact that the three musketeers, as Gabe had dubbed them, didn’t, dinged his suspicion meter.
Tower’s three deputies smelled of corruption. At one time, they’d been decent officers, but the scuttlebutt that went around the bar—and the informants who met Gabe—told a much uglier story.
Gabe didn’t want to believe they’d turned, but he’d learned the hard way that betrayal by people you’d trusted came too damn easy.
Either he or Luke would get the proof. They had to. And soon.
Gabe rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn’t found a lick of evidence against the sheriff. The guy was Teflon. Even when the sheriff’s son, Brian, had been murdered last year amid swirling rumors about parties and meetings with Jeff Gasmerati, the local crime boss, they hadn’t touched Tower’s reelection.
Jeff Gasmerati was another matter. As a snitch, Ernie had become Gabe’s window into the organization. Gasmerati owned half of Denver, with just enough legitimate business to insulate himself from the law.
Gabe hadn’t been able to prove it, but if he were a betting man, he would say the sheriff was in bed with Gasmerati and had been since Tower was elected to fill the position vacated by the untimely death of a man who’d held the office for twenty years before him. Being sheriff in Jefferson County had turned into a lifetime job.
“Last call,” Gabe announced, checking the time again.
Most of the cops in here tonight had come for a few beers, a game or two of pool, and were now packing up to go home to their wives or husbands. The honest cops, at least.
A few more of the Blue Brotherhood had shoved back a couple of shots, disappeared with a badge groupie for a quickie, then headed home to play the Good Daddy, tucking the kids into bed. Had Patrick Montgomery been one of those?
Gabe hadn’t wanted to believe that about his father, but the longer he’d worked behind the bar, the more he’d seen what he hadn’t wanted to know.