Beth picked up on the third ring.
“Hey, Beth, it’s Professor Ryder. Did I leave my phone by the honey and other sweeteners?”
“Just a sec.” The rustle of movement and a male voice before Beth came back on the line. “Yep, here it is.”
“Could you hold onto it? I’ll pick it up on my way off campus.”
“Sure, Professor.”
“Is that Joe’s voice I hear in the background?”
Beth giggled and Lauren could almost hear the blush across the phone line. “Yes. How did you know?”
“Lucky guess. Tell him I said hi.”
They hung up and Lauren reached for her tea, but the bitter taste was stronger as it cooled. She set it aside and grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge next to her desk. She was running the bottle of water across her forehead when Debi walked in. “You look rough.”
“You should see the other guy.”
“What happened?”
“Let’s just say Smythe won’t be spending my mortgage money anytime soon.”
“Oh, no way, girl. Don’t tease. I need the whole story.”
“Have a seat.” Lauren gestured to the chair across from her. “Want a water?”
“No thanks. Is that a coffee?”
“Tea. Not my usual brand. Want it?”
Debi grabbed the cup and sat across from her. While Debi drank, Lauren told her about Earl, the bank, and the townhouse. She left out the part about Ryder nearly killing Earl. Something had shifted in his eyes; something wild had overtaken his humanity. She didn’t mind him defending her, she understood his rage, but something the Army had done to him had severed the link with his humanity. The experimental program he’d been involved in wasn’t her story to tell, not that she knew the whole story, or at least she didn’t think so.
Debi leaned back in silence once Lauren finished. “You need to call the police.”
“I can’t.” She couldn’t explain Ryder’s paranoia, and after the past few days, she was starting to believe him. There was no such thing as random coincidence. “Trust me, Ryder, Rose, and Craft will make sure there’s justice.” Not the kind they wanted, but the men responsible would pay. “Is Craft still setting up shop at your kitchen table?”
“He put the chili on and worked for a few hours. He bailed right before you called me, and packed the chili into the fridge.”
About the same time Ryder left her on campus. Lauren couldn’t stop the worry nipping at her heels. Was Ryder safe? She wanted to call and check in, but her phone was at the coffee kiosk. “Let’s go. I’ll pick up my phone and we can get an update.”
Lauren dropped the melted bag of ice into the garbage and stood. The world spun for a minute, so she grabbed the edge of the desk. She hadn’t eaten when she got food for Caleb. Her stomach had been too pitchy, but now her blood sugar was low and she was woozy.
Debi’s eyes narrowed. “Are you okay?”
“I’m a walking riddle.”
“Huh?”
Lauren grabbed the sunglasses and plopped them back on. “Black and blue and red all over.”
“Ha-ha. If you can make bad jokes, you must be fine. Let’s go.” Still, she held Lauren’s arm as they walked down the wide hall. Crawford’s door was closed when they passed—thank God—and made it to the small atrium at the front of the building.
Beth stood behind the register with Joe off to the side. Her whole focus was on the young military man. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” Lauren asked.
Joe’s smooth face flushed. “No, ma’am. Work’s over for the day.” He gestured outside where the sun was drooping towards the horizon.
Huh. She must have been relaxing in her office longer than she thought. “Beth, do you have my phone?”
“Right here.” She handed it over the countertop.
Debi pulled out her wallet. “Can I get a black coffee to go?”
Beth glanced at Joe and her face flushed. “Uh, I kinda turned the pot off early. I can do hot tea?”
“That’s fine, but not the stuff you gave her.” Debi nodded at Lauren. “That was awful.”
The pink in Beth’s face burned redder than a July sunburn. “Sorry, Professor.”
“That’s fine.” Lauren tried to smile, but her head spun. “We’ll just head out. Have a good night.” The nausea she’d fought earlier came back and she barely stumbled down the three steps to street level. “Where did you park?”
“Staff lot.” Debi grabbed her arm and steered her around the admin building. They made it a few steps before Joe came running up after them.
“Sorry, Lauren. Beth felt bad about the tea, so she made you a chai.” He held out a cup and Lauren took it.
“She didn’t have to do that.”
“I might have insisted.” The juvenile blush climbed his cheeks. “I’m afraid I distracted her, and we didn’t want—uh, you know. She’s good at her job.”
Lauren smiled. He was so earnest. “We’re all allowed a few distractions.”
Joe smiled in relief. “Thanks. Is this one okay?”
Lauren took a sip. The cinnamon and cardamom flavored the tea to perfection. “Much better. Tell her thanks.”
“I will.” He trotted off around the corner.
“God, were we ever that young?”
Lauren leaned against a rail and took another soothing sip of tea. “Not in a long time, my friend.” They stood outside in the windy air and watched the sunset. “I’m surprised you parked in the staff lot.”
Debi stared across the campus. “He parks by the science building.”
“What about your father?”
“I dare that bastard to cross my path.”
“All-righty then.” Debi’s past sat like a boulder between them. Some pains didn’t ease with time.
“Is that tea any good?” Debi finally asked.
“Well, it’s hot.” And her throat desperately needed the soothing liquid. “Want some?”
“Why not?”
The sun fully settled into dark while they sat in companionable silence sharing the tea and ignoring the two-ton elephant sitting in the quad. When they straightened to head to the lot, Lauren’s head took another spin around the block.
“Are you feeling okay?”
“You asked that before.”
“Now you’re green, so I’m asking again.”
Lauren tried to follow Debi to the parking lot, but the taste of bile gave her three seconds warning. She detoured to a grassy area and leaned against the tree as she lost her lunch. Not that she’d eaten anything since breakfast. The sunglasses on her head landed beside the contents of her stomach. Ugh. When she finished, she extended her arm for the to-go cup. She took a long sip and swished it around her mouth before spitting it out. “That puts a cap on a rotten day.”
“Please tell me you don’t want me to go diving for the sunglasses.”
Her stomach lurched again. “Uh-oh. They belong to Rose.”
Debi laughed, the sound tinny. “Rosie can live without his badass sunglasses. Let’s get out of here.”
She bumped into Debi as they walked straight through the grass, not bothering with the path. The dark lot was nearly empty as they stumbled to the little Volkswagen. Lauren’s head spun and her legs went weak. She had to lean against the side of the car to gather the energy to climb inside. Debi pulled open the door, but double stepped back as if her head was as woozy as Lauren’s.
They were giggling by the time they were both belted in and ready to go. Lauren leaned back in the seat and let her eyes drift closed until she heard retching next to her. Debi had opened the door and was throwing up onto the asphalt. Lauren opened the glove box and pulled out some napkins and handed them to her friend.
When she finished cleaning up, Debi pulled the door closed. “Maybe the food I cooked for breakfast was bad? Or we’re both coming down with something.”
“I wonder if the guys are sick?” The little car shook with the night wind, and that little bit of movemen
t made Lauren’s brain dizzy. She felt fuzzy. Something was wrong, and it wasn’t a virus. She could barely keep her eyes open.
Debi tossed the napkins into a trash sack on the passenger side before reaching for the tea. Lauren reached out to stop her. “How much tea have you had?”
Debi laughed. “The tea isn’t spiked with tequila. I’m sure I’m safe to drive.”
“Spiked? Crap.” Lauren sniffed the tea, but could only smell the cinnamon, but remembered that the first batch had tasted bitter. What had Beth done? “Actually, I do think it was spiked.” Her words slurred. She pulled her phone out and dialed Ryder. The phone went straight to voicemail. “Do you have Rose’s number?”
“Why?” Debi’s eyes narrowed, nearly drooping closed.
“I think Baby Face Joe spiked our tea.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Ryder and Rose stayed on a collision course with Fowler, hoping to intercept him before the men following caught up. If there were men. Maybe Fowler had finally lost touch with reality. Even after months off the medications, the fearlessness remained. The anger and the paranoia were there as well, dogging their steps. “Do you think there’s someone after Fowler?”
“He swears it.” Headlights rushed past going the opposite direction while Craft’s headlights followed, matching their speed. “Says he picked up a tail outside of Tucson.”
“You ever start watching the rearview mirror and think a car was following too close or staying on your six too long?”
“A time or two.” Rose kept his focus on the road. “Doesn’t mean we’re always wrong.”
“Doesn’t mean we’re always right.” That was the problem. What was real and what was the paranoia?
“Fowler’s situation sounds like Gault, and look what happened to him.”
Ryder had been trying to track down the truth for months. “The official word is suicide by cop.”
“Official reports can be bought.” They’d had this discussion many times in the past few days. “There are easier ways to go out. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
Thoughts of Lauren kept those tendencies locked tight. She kept him sane. “That’s the fucking side effects. The doctors can’t know the effects stayed in our system or they’d never let us loose.” Ryder needed to talk to the team and find out if it was the same for everyone. Were they permanently altered? Or was there something else in play? “When we bring Fowler in, we need to talk. We all went our separate ways, dealing with this shit on our own. Time to end that and figure out what the hell they did to us and how long we can expect to deal with it.”
“You looking for answers? Big ones?”
“I guess I am.” So far, he had limited his search to Mad Dog and Gault, but Lauren wanted a life, and to make that happen, he needed to know it was safe. He wanted to know what happened with Mad Dog. Was it the same shit running through his veins? Did a minor incident ignite Mad Dog’s temper, causing him to kill? Did that possibility exist in all of them? “Mad Dog said he’d lost time that day. That shouldn’t happen, not after we finished detox.”
“We shouldn’t be fearless either. Or one trigger from a murderous rage. It was never intended to be a lifetime deal. Just when we were on the meds.” On the console between them, Rose’s phone dinged with an incoming text. “Get that, would you? It might be Fowler.”
“It’s from Debi. You two got something going on?”
“I’ve known her all of twenty-four hours.”
“That’s not a no.” Ryder opened the text, because he didn’t mind screwing with Rose.
911. On campus. Bog trouble.
He read it aloud to Rose. “Does she mean big trouble?” What had the girls gotten into? Ryder pulled out his phone, noticing a missed call from Lauren. Twenty minutes ago. They must have been driving through a dead zone. He called her phone, but no answer. Tried Debi’s, but got the same, so he opened the tracking app. Lauren’s phone was still on campus. Ryder hoped she was with it. “We need to turn around.”
Rose glanced across the truck. “What about Fowler?”
“I can’t be two places at once.” Ryder’s focus was split. If they didn’t get to Fowler, he might end up as dead as Gault with as little reason why, but Ryder’s intuition screamed that he needed to get to Lauren. Now. His hands shook with unspent rage. “I can’t be in two places at once, but we can. Pull over. I’ll take Craft’s truck and you two go after Fowler.”
Rose pulled off at the next exit, and behind them, Craft did the same. “You want me to let you go alone?” The censure in his voice filled the cab with tension.
Live by the team. Alone was dangerous territory. “Better me than you. Go unfuck Fowler, and then head back to El Paso. Lauren’s trouble with Smythe and the lawyer is bad, but so far, it’s been druggies and bankers. I can handle it.”
They explained the situation to Craft and he handed the keys to Ryder. “Stay frosty, brother.”
“Will do. Watch your fives and twenty-fives.” Without waiting for an answer, Ryder started back towards El Paso. Lauren’s phone stayed in one place. The nearer Ryder got, the more stress tightened his neck and shoulders. His bloody hands gripped the steering wheel. They were torn and swollen from beating Earl. Nearly killing him. The anger he’d fought for so many months had finally broken through.
And Lauren hadn’t run. She hadn’t been afraid of him. Her touch and her soft voice penetrated the cloud of rage that had engulfed him. He would have killed Earl, no doubt, but she pulled him back from the brink. He needed her more than she could possibly need him. Although she attracted trouble. Ryder rammed his foot on the accelerator. No telling what new development had put her in danger. The last several miles were a blur of lights against pitch black. The time it took to get to campus filled with images of the trouble Lauren and Debi had found. He pulled onto campus where he slowed down to take in the scene. Debi’s orange VW was the only car in the staff lot.
Ryder locked up the truck and circled the VW. The doors were locked and no sign of trouble. As he headed towards the admin building, his phone buzzed with a text.
All clear. We ended up getting sick. Okay now. At my office.
The message eased some worry, but didn’t diminish the need to see his wife.
Stay put. Be there in five.
The message showed that she read it, so Ryder slowed to a measured walk as he rounded the building. Beth was still at the coffee kiosk despite the evening hours. “Awful late for coffee.”
She jumped when he spoke. “Geez, you scared me. They have some conference going on upstairs. They wanted me to stay open until the last break.”
Ryder glanced down the hall, but didn’t see a soul.
“Would you take this to the professor?” She handed him a bottle of water, her eyes fixated on his battered hand. “Whatever hit her, hit hard.”
Ryder grabbed the bottle and it cooled his hand. “Thanks.”
“Here’s one for you.” Beth stared at his ruined knuckles. “You look like you could use it.”
Great. Now Lauren’s student thought he was an abuser. Ryder walked down the hall to Lauren’s office but found it empty. On the desk next to her phone was a note.
BRB. Went to the bathroom to clean up.
Ryder dropped onto the low sofa. They needed to talk about her situational awareness. He’d told her to keep the phone on her. And she was supposed to be in a public place. He twisted the cap from one of the water bottles and finished it in one long swallow. The frustration that had ridden him since Lauren’s missed call still bunched his muscles. He needed to find her. Ryder stood and the ground shifted under his feet. He reached out and planted a hand on the desk, but the dizzy swirl in his head worsened.
Ryder reached for his phone, but his fingers fumbled, feeling fuzzy and foggy. His brain went numb. Drugged. He tried to make it to the door, but his legs gave out the second he let go of the desk. He tumbled to the hard tile. Where was Lauren?
Lauren woke in a pool of drool o
n a familiar carpet. She groaned. She was back in the freaking townhouse. Her mouth tasted like dirt. She rose and swiped the back of her hand across her lips. The overhead light was on, a small blessing, but a piece of plywood had been screwed over the window. No way to get out that way, and she was just desperate enough to try to jump sixteen feet to the ground. Debi was still out cold. How long had they been here? With the window blocked, Lauren had no sense of time.
Across the room, Earl was still on the floor where they’d left him. How bad had Ryder hurt him? She checked Debi’s pulse, which beat weakly, and then she crawled to Earl. His face was mottled, the way they’d left him, but several small holes had bled through the back of his head. Someone had shot him multiple times.
Lauren retched, but there was nothing left for her to lose. Dry heaves hurt her gut and her chest and every muscle in her upper body. Earl had been alive when they left. Someone had come behind them and taken him out. The closet’s bi-fold doors were closed, but Smythe’s body was still there. Nothing about their situation was good. Ryder was on a mission too far away to be of help, and she didn’t have her phone, so he couldn’t track her. She had no idea how much time they’d been out, but any amount of time was too long. Everything in Lauren hurt, but she didn’t have time to wallow in her fears. They needed out of there, and Earl had a key.
Lauren gagged as she dug through his suit pockets. His body was already cold. A shiver turned her skin to ice, but she kept on until she looked through all his pockets. Empty. Lauren sat back on her rump and hugged her knees to her chest. Life was beyond messed up. She couldn’t believe she was back in this god-awful hellhole that had once been her home.
“Your resting bitch face is pretty scary,” Debi croaked. She sat up and leaned her back against the wall. “What happened?”
Lauren crawled to sit next to Debi. “Joe spiked our tea.” She didn’t want to believe Beth knew. God, what had the girl gotten involved in?
Live By The Team (Team Fear Book 1) Page 22