Edge of the Heat 2 (Westwood Harbor Corruption)

by Ladew, Lisa

  “Sit down,” he told her, shoving her towards the ring, causing her to stumble.

  She recovered and went to the couch.

  “Not there,” he growled. “On the floor.”

  Her eyes on him warily, she got down on the floor.

  “Hold your hands out.”

  He produced two more sets of handcuffs from a drawer and handcuffed her wrists in front of her, then her handcuffs to the large metal ring. She was secured well. Her heart sunk. Sitting this way she couldn’t reach anything with her hands.

  He left her there and went up two stairs and opened a door in the very back of the RV. She craned her neck but couldn’t see anything in the room but a corner of a bed. He closed the door behind him and was gone for about a minute. She heard his muffled voice say something, and then he was back out, smiling. What the hell? Was there someone in that room?

  “Now Emma, I’m so glad you’ve decided to come with me. We have got to get out of here very quickly before your boyfriend wakes up and raises the alarm, so excuse me.” He turned and walked up to the driver’s seat and prepared to drive away.

  Decided to come with you? Are you insane? Yes, she was afraid that Norman probably was insane. Maybe always had been. Fear niggling at her heart and brain threatened to turn to full-bore terror. What if she couldn’t get away from him? What was he planning to do with her? What if Craig was dying on the floor in her living room? What if he didn’t wake up and no one found him there for a day or more? How far away would she and Norman be? He was fleeing of course, she knew that. There was no life for him in Westood Harbor anymore. He could be at the Mexico border in about 9 hours. Is that where he was headed? Of course he’d have to cross somewhere but if he managed to get her across the border would even Craig or Hawk be able to save her? They could disappear so easily in that country.

  She couldn’t let that happen. She had to get free the next time they stopped. She had to do whatever it took to get him to unhook her from this metal ring.

  The big rig rumbled to life and shook and swayed as Norman started driving them to where ever they were going. Mexico, she just knew it. Her heart sank every time she thought of it. Alone, in an RV with Norman in another country. A country that didn’t always cooperate with the United States. A country that the FBI couldn’t operate and investigate freely in like they did here. Her thoughts spiraled out of control. Was he going to kill her? Rape her? Sell her? Make her pose as his wife? Terror coursed through her body. She started to shake, the handcuffs clinking together horribly.

  Get a hold of yourself Emma! Don’t hand yourself over to him on a silver platter! You can get out of this! You can’t sit around and wait for Craig to rescue you. The thought made her realize again that Craig needed rescuing himself right now. Tears threatened to burn at her eyes. No! No crying! Right now you have to come up with a plan! You don’t have one second to spare on crying.

  She took a few deep breaths, hoping to calm herself, and glanced around. Her back already felt uncomfortable on the floor so she decided to lay down, stretching out with her hands over her head. She heard Norman begin to whistle from the driver’s seat. He really is a psychopath.

  She was in the living area of the RV, with her feet stretching towards the driver’s seat. The sink and oven with multiple cabinets above and below were on her right. The fridge and couch and table were on her left. She didn’t see anything that would help her get out of here. There was a large window next to the table, and a few small ones on the other side. She wondered if she could break the large one. She didn’t see anything heavy enough to break it with. Norman’s gear had to be in these cabinets thought. She bet he had several guns and other weapons somewhere. If only she could get loose! Of course if she got loose he would be on her in a second, way quicker than she could figure out where his gun was probably.

  The RV picked up speed. Emma tried to figure out where they might be. There was a freeway entrance about 5 miles from her house that would eventually lead them to I-5. She wondered if they were on it yet. She couldn’t see anything out the windows but sky and clouds.

  Her mind turned to a plan. She needed a plan. What did Norman want from her? If he wanted sex, that might be her way out of this. But could she really use sex as a way to get out of this? Did she have a choice? What would be better, trying to seduce him and then possibly finding a way to use it to her advantage and get free? Or being raped? Either way she was going to be screwed by him if that’s what he wanted. Her mind tried to imagine kissing him and making him think that she wanted to. Her stomach turned at the thought.

  She closed her eyes and hid her face under her right arm that was stretched over her head. Come on Emma, if this is your only chance you have to do it. You can’t overpower him. You don’t have a single weapon. You can kiss him with passion if it’s the only way.

  But she didn’t think she could.

  ***

  Something was changing. The RV was slowing down. They were pulling to the right. Were they stopping? Emma jerked out of the almost-sleep like state she had been in for what felt like several hours and sat up. Her shoulders ached from being stretched out for so long. She scrambled as close as she could to the metal ring and faced the driver’s compartment. Norman stopped the RV and turned it off, pocketing the keys as he stood up.

  He looked at Emma and smiled. The smile looked flat and evil to Emma, and totally fake.

  “You may think you want to scream or try to escape Emma, but I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Sure, I can’t shoot Craig anymore, but your sister is still here.”

  Emma felt like screaming. Sister? He knew about Vivian? He had Vivian here? Suddenly she felt cold, colder than she’d ever felt in her life. Her vision threatened to blacken. She clenched her teeth together hard enough to crack them and leaned forward, trying to keep from passing out. Sister. He had Vivian.

  Norman laughed a little laugh and went on. “She’s quite lovely you know, just as lovely as you Emma. And clean too. That perfect combination.” He walked past Emma and sat down on the couch. “I’d love to hear the story of how you two finally found each other.”

  Emma didn’t say anything. She just concentrated on breathing. Breath in, breath out.

  “You don’t want to talk right now? No matter. We’ll have plenty of time later.” His voice grew hard. “Unlock yourself, now.” He threw the handcuff keys into her lap.

  She looked up. Unlock myself? He was pointing his gun at her. The one with the silencer. The expression on his face made it clear he meant business. He would shoot her in a second if she tried anything.

  Heart hammering in her chest she grabbed the keys and unlocked both handcuffs, dropping the keys to the floor and rubbing her wrists.

  “Pick up both sets of handcuffs and stand up.”

  She picked up the handcuffs and the keys too, palming them, wondering if she’d get a chance to keep them.

  “Turn around and head into that room back there.” He motioned to the door in the back of the RV.

  She climbed the two steps and opened the door. Nothing. The bed was empty. There was no one in here. She couldn’t believe it! He’d been bluffing! He didn’t have her sister! She turned around, not sure what she meant to do, her face set in hostility. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to shoot him with his own damn gun.

  Too bad he still had it trained on her, his finger on the trigger.

  His lips pulled back in a smile more evil than the first. “Don’t get any bright ideas Emma, she’s here. Turn back around.”

  She did. Norman did something behind her, a whine of hydraulics filled the room, and the bed started lifting from the ground, tilting onto one side. Beneath it was an open, hollowed out space. Vivian lay in this space, hands over her head, handcuffed to another metal ring. Her eyes were closed. She didn’t look to be breathing.

  “Vivian!” Emma rushed to her and her fingers went right to Vivian’s pulse point. Her heart was beating, fast and thready. Like she was terrified. But her face wa
s relaxed as in sleep or unconsciousness.

  “You bastard!” Emma whirled around, hands balled into fists. “What did you do to her? How could you do this Norman? You are supposed to be one of the good guys! You are supposed to be a cop!”

  “Yeah, well your boyfriend and his friends took that life from me, didn’t they?” he sneered.

  “What? What? You can’t kill people and expect the FBI not to come after you!”

  His voice dropped low and deadly, conniving. “Who have I killed Emma?”

  Emma eyed him, not sure what he was looking for. Did he want to know how much she knew? How much Craig knew? She whirled back around to Vivian and checked her pulse again. “She’s sick Norman. Get me an aid bag.”

  “She’s not sick. She’s fine. She’s just having a nice trip.”

  Emma’s mind reeled. A nice trip? Her eyes flew to Vivian’s arms. A spot of dried blood stained the left one on the inside of her elbow. “Oh my God. What did you inject her with Norman?”

  “Don’t you worry Emma, you’ll find out soon enough.” His voice changed again, to the hardened, I-mean-business tone. “Lay down next to her, handcuff yourself to the metal ring.”

  Emma’s mind raced. Was this the time to try something, anything? She couldn’t try to seduce him. She could barely keep herself from spitting in his face. Maybe just keep him talking.

  “Why Norman, what are you going to do with us? Where are we going?” She searched his face.

  Very deliberately, he swung his gun from her to Vivian. “Now Emma.”

  There was nothing she could do, except what he wanted. She lay down and handcuffed herself as loosely as she dared.

  He came forward and tightened the handcuffs until they hurt. Then he opened the drawer next to the bed and pulled out a syringe. Her eyes grew wide when she saw it. “No Norman, don’t. I’ll do anything you want. I won’t scream. I won’t try to escape.” She couldn’t tear her eyes from the syringe. She’d never done drugs in her life.

  Norman put one leg over the piece of wood sticking up that the bed would rest on when it was back in place. He put a rubber tourniquet on Emma’s arm, obviously planning to inject her.

  Emma felt her mind shattering, trying to fly away. Her breaths tore in and out of her throat, blocking any further speech. She kicked her legs a little and Norman looked at her, death in his eyes. With his left hand he pressed his gun directly against Vivian’s temple.

  Emma stilled immediately. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited. She wondered if she’d ever wake up from this, and if she did, where would they be?

  She felt the prick of the needle.

  Chapter 20

  Nothing. Of course not. Craig tore his eyes from the last house they had surveillance on that Norman had ties with and glanced up at the clock. An hour had passed since they arrived and they still weren’t any closer to finding Emma. They didn’t even have anything to go on.

  “Damnit Hawk! I can’t sit here for one more second! I gotta go do something. I’m going to go walk Emma’s neighborhood and start asking the neighbors questions.”

  “Dennis is already there. He has only found two people who are home and neither of them saw anything. He just texted me.”

  The cordless phone on the counter rang, startling Craig, who jumped up to grab it. “Masterson,” he said into the receiver.

  “Hey Craig, one of the cops who used to work with Norman called me and gave me some information that might help you.” It was Carruthers. Up until this morning he had been undercover in the police department.

  “Yeah, what?” Craig could taste his excitement. He grabbed a pen and paper.

  “He says that he’s known Norman was dirty for years now and he’s been keeping a file on him, trying to get people to listen. He said he has to be careful of who he told because the first time he tried to go to Norman’s boss he almost got fired. Anyway, he went back through his file and found 3 vehicles that Norman or his team confiscated on search warrants but the vehicles never actually showed up in the yard. A brown, 2007 Winnebago Adventurer, a red, 2010 Honda Civic, and a black 2002 Maserati Gran Turismo.”

  Craig scribbled the vehicle names on his paper. “What is a Winnebago Adventurer?”

  “I think it’s a big motorhome, you know, like a RV.”

  Lights bloomed in Craig’s mind. They were looking for an RV. “You got license plates?”

  “No, no license plates. The best he could do was the names on the search warrants.”

  Craig’s excitement waned a little. That probably wasn’t going to help them, but at least it was something to check out. “You tell that cop thanks from me. What’s his name? I’m going to want to thank him personally someday.”

  “Huff. Jared Huff.”

  “Got it, thanks!” Craig hung up the phone. “Hawk we got a little break. I bet you 100 bucks we’re looking for a big brown RV. Have we seen anything like that yet on any of the street cams?”

  Hawk looked up, interested. “Nope, nothing, what you got?”

  Craig explained the situation. Hawk lapsed into silence, his thick, dark eyebrows screwed together tight.

  Craig paced behind the row of monitors, thinking hard. They could put out a roadblock. No, if Norman was leaving town he’d be long gone already. They could notify the state cops, put out an APB on a brown RV and see what came back. Risky though, state cops might push Norman over the edge. It would be better if he and Hawk could get a visual on the vehicle somewhere and go get it themselves. He kept pacing, his options getting smaller and smaller. He peeked at Hawk, whose fingers were dancing over the keyboard again.

  Hawk was the computer master. He didn’t need Craig’s help. There had to be something else he could do. He couldn’t just sit here.

  “I’m going to the police station, I’m going to start asking questions.”

  “The Chief will throw you out when he finds you. He was livid when I didn’t notify him this morning that we were going in hot on Norman. I still haven’t decided if he would have tipped him off or not.”

  “Let him throw me out! Maybe I’ll find something first. Maybe a look at this file Huff was keeping would help us.” Craig headed for the door. He stopped short. “Wait, give me your phone. Norman took mine.”

  Hawk’s head tore away from the computer screen to stare at Craig, his eyes wide. “Norman has your phone,” he breathed in excitement.

  His whipped back around and his fingers tore at the keyboard.

  Craig ran to him. “What, what? Can you trace my phone?”

  “Yep, it’s got a tracker in it. All your phones do,” Hawk said, referring to the other agents on the team.

  Craig watched Hawk’s fingers fly over the keyboard, hope finally blooming full in his chest. Come on, come on, find it. His hand reached out and grabbed the truck keys off the counter. As soon as he had the slightest inkling of a location he was gone. Hawk could catch up later.

  Craig watched a map come up on the screen. Hawk groaned and Craig’s heart sunk. “I’ve only got a last known location. That means he smashed the phone I bet.”

  “Well where is it?”

  “A playground 6 blocks from Emma’s house on Centurion Street.”

  “Do we have any Cams on the playground?”

  Hawk thought for a second. “Good thinking. I doubt it but I’m checking now.” Two more maps popped up on the closest monitor. Then some street view pictures. “Nope, but just let me try something.”

  The constant click-clacking of the keyboard with no results was enough to drive Craig batty, but he gritted his teeth against the irritation. They had to find something. They had to catch a break.

  Now Hawk was looking at google street view of the area, all the way around the playground. “Found one,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Found what, found what?”

  “Just hold on, gotta concentrate here,” Hawk told him. He had a screen pulled up that was nothing but text flying across the screen. “Yes,” he breathed and switched back t
o a browser view.

  “See this gym across the street? The Better Body. I hacked into their security cameras. There’s a good chance they can see the parking lot. If they can’t, I’ll try the flower shop next door.”

  Craig could see grainy, black and white camera images being rolled backwards in time. “I just gotta go back an hour and a half…” Hawk sucked in his breath. Craig craned his neck to look. A huge, brown RV was rolling out of the parking lot.

  “Oh my God, go back farther,” Craig urged him.

  “There, that’s Emma! And Norman!” We got him! We need the license plate on that RV!”

  “Working on it,” Hawk’s voice was low and tight and his fingers flew. The RV moved forwards and backwards until he got a perfect head-on view. He zoomed in on the license plate but it was too grainy to read. “Just gotta optimize it …”

  “I’ll be right back, I need to get loaded up,” Craig said, jogging out the door. He came back within 5 minutes, wearing tan khakis and a dark blue polo shirt, a sub-compact G27 Glock in his boot and a Glock 23 on his belt.

  “Anything?” he shot at Hawk.

  “Yeah, we got the plate number. I just loaded it into the automatic license plate reader system for all the bridges on every highway within a 30 mile radius. We should get something back any second here.”

  The screen flashed. I5, bridge number 483. Craig held his breath. Hawk entered some numbers on a calculator. “102 miles out, headed south.”

  Craig’s desperation threatened to overtake him. “If he’s headed to Mexico we’ll never catch him before he crosses the border.”

  Chapter 21

  Swirling, down and dark, Emma was pinned in a hot tub, somehow her foot was stuck in the drain and she was being pulled under, drowning, dying. She couldn’t breathe. She felt desperate for air. She was alone, and no one would care when she died. She had nobody. No wait. She had Craig, and Jerry, and she had Vivian. These people would care when she died. Her breathing came a little easier. Vivian, she had family now. She had a sister.