Marked for Murder

by Colleen Helme

  “I will. And I’ll keep my mind wide open for anything.”

  The forecast for the day called for plenty of sunshine and warm temperatures, so I dressed in my jeans and a t-shirt. With my face washed and teeth brushed, I pulled my hair into a low pony-tail. Ready to go, I slipped on my running shoes and made sure my purse held my stun flashlight.

  Before leaving, I told my kids what was going on and promised to keep everyone updated when I could. I picked up their worry and gave them each a hug, telling them I’d be fine. Chris held me tight, then, after a quick kiss, I hopped in my car and drove away.

  With mounting unease, I pulled into the precinct and hurried inside. Going straight to the chief’s office, I pushed through the crowd to his desk. He caught sight of me, and his shoulders slumped with relief. He’d never dealt with a threat like this before, and just knowing I was there to help calmed him down.

  I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse. What if I couldn’t stop Beal in time? I’d only know what his plans were if I spoke with him in person. How was I going to do that without putting myself in danger?

  “Thanks for coming,” Chief Winder said. “Let me bring you up to speed. The caller said the bomb would detonate at two o’clock this afternoon, so that gives us a couple of hours to find it.” He caught my gaze. This was the part he hadn’t told me over the phone. “He’s only willing to speak to you.”

  The news caused my head to spin. Was this because I hadn’t answered his calls? Was it his sick way of getting my attention? Anger surged through me. It looked like I was going to have to talk to him whether I wanted to or not.

  Should I tell the chief about his calls to me? Making my decision, I told him everything, along with the number of phone calls I’d received this morning. “I’d decided not to answer, so I guess this is his way of getting my attention.”

  “Shelby, it’s not your fault,” the chief said. “He could have hurt a lot of people at the wedding yesterday. If you hadn’t given the warning, he would have. I’ve seen his type before. He won’t stop until we stop him. Sure, we didn’t get him yesterday, but he’s not going to be so lucky today. We’ll find him and put an end to this.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “This phone came in the envelope with the threat. It’s programmed with his number, so all you have to do is push the call sign. Are you ready?”

  I nodded. Taking the phone, I punched the call button and waited. It rang several times before he finally picked up. “Shelby?”

  “Yes. It’s me.”

  “Good. I wasn’t sure they’d take me seriously.”

  “Well, you definitely have our attention. So where’s the bomb?”

  “That’s for you to figure out. In fact, don’t you already know?” He paused, giving me a chance to tell him something. “So what is it? Aren’t your premonitions working today?”

  “I need more to go on. You need to give me something. Talking to you on the phone isn’t enough.”

  “Hmm. Fine. I’ll give you a clue. Remember the first time you eluded my carefully laid plans?”

  “You mean in the food court at the mall with the potted plant?”

  “Sure. Call me if you can’t find it.” He disconnected.

  I huffed out a breath. He was toying with me, and I didn’t have much hope that the bomb would be there. Now what? With the chief counting on me, I had to tell him something. Besides, maybe the bomb was somewhere close by.

  I relayed Beal’s words to the chief, and he organized the team to move in. He even outfitted me with a Kevlar vest and a radio. I joined him in a police van, praying this wasn’t a wild goose chase. I had a sinking feeling that Beal was setting me up to fail, and anxiety ate a hole in my stomach.

  Arriving at the food court, the chief told his team to evacuate the area and begin the search. I rushed toward the table that I’d shared with Jerry and the falling plant. To my surprise, Jerry sat at the table, reading his newspaper. “Jerry?”

  He jerked the paper down. “Shelby? What are you doing here?” He looked at my vest with police written on it and blanched. “What’s going on?”

  “Our friend called in a bomb threat. He told me to come to the food court. Have you seen or heard anything unusual?”

  Jerry stood, clutching his paper. “No. I’ve been reading the paper. Is it a real bomb?”

  “I think so. At least they’re evacuating the area, just in case.”

  On impulse, Jerry glanced up at the window from which the plant had fallen. I followed his gaze and noticed movement behind the curtain. Had Beal been watching? Was the bomb up there?

  I grabbed my radio and spoke into it. “Chief, there was movement in the condo above my position. I’d like to check it out.”

  “Wait. I’m heading your way.”

  He hurried to my side, and I pointed out the window. “It’s on the eighth floor.”

  “Let’s move,” he said. Mall security had arrived, and they let us into the building. Several police officers came with us, taking both the stairs and the elevator. The security detail unlocked the door to the apartment, and the chief and two officers went inside. I stayed in the hall until he said it was clear.

  “There’s nothing here,” the chief told me.

  “I thought I saw someone, but I guess I was wrong.”

  “Was this the apartment with the falling plant?” the chief asked. I nodded, and it made more sense to him. He figured that my premonitions must have been wrong because of that. “Let’s head back to the food court for another look.”

  My stomach clenched. This was my worst nightmare. What was I going to tell him when we couldn’t find the bomb? That my premonitions were on vacation?

  After thoroughly searching the area, we came up empty.

  “I think you need to call him again,” the chief told me. “See if you can get him to be more specific. Maybe that will help with your premonitions.”

  “Yeah… okay.” Without much hope, I called Beal. He picked up right away.

  “I see that you’re not having any luck,” he began. “Pity. I was hoping your premonitions would work. Now it seems like you’re not any better than the rest of us. Why is that? Are you a fraud after all? You’re directly involved, so why don’t you know where the bomb is?”

  “It doesn’t work like that,” I answered. “Look. If you want to talk to me, just tell me where you want to meet. Drop this thing with the bomb, and I’ll come to you.”

  “Oh, you’ll come to me, but first you have to find the bomb.” The line went dead.

  Dammit! Now what was I supposed to do? I glanced up, only to find the chief staring at me with raised brows. By now, he expected me to know where the bomb was. A few of the other officers were thinking the same thing. Why was I just standing there?

  “Uh… give me a minute,” I told the chief. “I need to think.”

  He nodded and stepped back, then turned to face his men. “Let’s give Shelby some space.”

  As everyone left me alone, I listened carefully to each mind in the area, moving from one to the next. Stretching my mind as far as I could, I found nothing. Beal obviously wasn’t out in the open where I could hear him.

  Now what? He’d brought me to the food court because that was the first place he’d set me up. Was that a clue? From talking to him, I knew he had to be someplace where he could see my failure. I glanced up to the seventeenth floor of the Randolph Tower.

  With a sliver of hope, I told the chief about the office in the building. “I don’t know if that’s where the bomb might be, but it’s worth checking out.”

  His eyes lit up. I’d come through. With newfound energy, he moved our search to the building. Praying I’d gotten it right, I accompanied them to the seventeenth floor and down the hall toward the office suite. As he reached for the door knob, I stopped him, remembering the booby trap at Beal’s basement office.

  “Wait.” Knowing I needed to phrase this the right way, I continued. “This isn’t a p
remonition, but he’s been known to set booby traps. To be safe, you need to check the door before you open it.”

  He nodded, taking me at my word, and felt around the door jam and knob. Finding nothing to indicate a trap, he finally turned the handle and slowly opened the door. Inside, the same, lone desk sat in the middle of the room. The plastic sheets were still in place, and it didn’t look like anything had changed since I’d been there last.

  Stepping inside, I glanced at the desk, and my heart raced. On a piece of paper, in bold letters, it read, “BOOM!”

  Was this some kind of sick joke? Dread turned my stomach. Was the bomb here, or was it another dead end? Maybe there wasn’t a bomb at all? Following the chief around the desk, I fervently hoped to find the answer, or a better clue. As I glanced at the space under the desk, I gasped in shock. Red numbers counted down the seconds inside a large mass of explosives.

  The chief spoke into his radio, mobilizing the bomb squad. He also called for a team to evacuate the building and the surrounding area. I watched the seconds tick down from fifty-five minutes while everyone scrambled to their places.

  Dazed that this was really happening, I left with the rest of the unnecessary people, taking the elevator to the lobby. From there, we headed to the food court, where the chief set up a command center. It was far enough away from the building to be safe if the blast occurred, but still close enough to see what was going on.

  I could hardly believe that Beal had been serious about the bomb. Now everyone thought my premonitions had worked. In reality, I’d been lucky to find it. The close call sent chills down my spine, and turned my legs to jelly. Trembling, I found a table that was out of the way and sat down to wait.

  From here, I could hear the radio transmissions between the bomb squad and the chief. As time ticked by, it didn’t seem like they’d made a lot of progress, and nervous sweat popped out on my brow.

  One of the bomb squad members asked the chief to send up a steel barrier of some kind, meant to contain the blast in case it went off. He sent for it, and several minutes passed before it was delivered. The tension around me rose with each passing minute. Would they diffuse it in time?

  With only ten minutes left on the countdown, the radio squawked with an update. At that same moment, something cold pressed against my neck, and a hand grasped my upper arm. “Don’t make a sound, or I’ll pull the trigger.”

  My heart jumped in my chest. I gasped, but managed to keep from screaming.

  “Come with me.” He pulled me to my feet, keeping the gun pressed to my neck. He angled me away, so his body was between me and the rest of the group. With the drama unfolding in front of me, I realized that everyone had moved closer to the chief where they could hear what was going on with the bomb. No one paid any attention to me.

  “Keep walking.” With his body so close to mine, I contemplated using an Aikido move, but the cold muzzle of the gun against my neck left me no choice. From his thoughts, I knew he’d gladly shoot me if I tried anything.

  He deftly maneuvered me toward the entrance of the condo, just feet away from my table. We disappeared inside so quickly, I doubted that anyone had noticed my departure. He swiped his key card, and the door buzzed open.

  To the right, another door stood ajar, held open by a plastic wedge. He shoved me inside and moved the wedge with his foot. The door slammed shut behind us, leaving us standing in a stairwell. Instead of going up, he moved to the lower staircase that was fenced off and padlocked.

  “Put your hands behind your back,” he said, pushing the gun against my neck. I did as he asked, and he slapped a pair of handcuffs around my wrists. Now that I was secure, he let go of me to insert his key into the lock with his free hand.

  As he pushed it open, I glanced his way and surprise washed over me. He wore the uniform of a mall security guard. Is that how he got in and out so easily? “Where did you get the uniform?”

  He smirked. “I work here. Now move.”

  Holding the gun to my neck, he grabbed my upper arm and led me into the lower stairwell. After securing the lock on the gate, we started down the stairs. Now that we’d made it this far, his hold on me relaxed, and I picked up his intention to lock me up in the basement.

  At the bottom of the long staircase, the basement floor opened into a maze of pipes and electrical equipment. He pulled me past the machinery to a door at the end of the room. Turning the knob, he pushed the door open and flipped a light switch, then pulled me inside.

  Along the nearest wall, the large room was furnished with white kitchen cabinets, complete with a countertop sporting a microwave and sink. A tall refrigerator sat in the corner. Against the other wall, a cot with a small mattress held a pillow and a tussled blanket. Beside the bed, a door stood open, leading into a bathroom.

  A small wooden table, with four chairs, took up the space near the fridge. Beal pulled the nearest chair out and pushed me into it. As I sat, I caught his pleased thoughts and relief that he’d pulled it off. He’d caught me, and I hadn’t been able to stop him. He’d won. He’d beaten me, the great Shelby Nichols.

  The elation that filled him made me sick, and I wanted to punch him in the face.

  “I found your bomb,” I said. “So you didn’t beat me.”

  His brows rose. Why did I say that? Didn’t I know he could kill me?

  “Why are you doing this to me?” I asked. “Olivia hired me to do a job for her. It wasn’t personal.”

  “You ruined my life,” he said, his eyes blazing with anger. “I had a multi-million dollar business. Because of you, I lost it all.” Struggling for composure, he clenched his jaw, and stepped back to lean against the counter. With deliberate ease, he held the gun loosely in his hand. Every few seconds, he took pleasure in pointing it at me. Each time he did it, I jerked back, and he enjoyed watching me squirm.

  “I have nothing now. I lost all my patents, all my research and findings. My life’s work.” He straightened with growing agitation and pointed the gun my way, like he was going to shoot me.

  I swallowed and tried not to flinch. I still wore the Kevlar vest. If he shot me, I’d be fine, right? … unless he hit me in the head.

  “And it’s all because of you.” His upper lip rose in a sneer, and he began to pace. “I had everything worked out. I’d planned for every contingency. There was no way you, or anyone else, could have found out about the affair. But somehow, you did. You ruined me.” His chest heaved with anger, and his eyes turned dark with pain.

  “But you’re going to pay now, and so will Olivia. When the bomb goes off, her precious building will be damaged, and her stock will drop. Her shell company will lose a substantial amount of money, and it will serve her right.”

  He checked his watch, and his brows lifted with disbelief. “It should have gone off by now.” He pinned me with his penetrating gaze. “I can’t believe it. They must have stopped it. They shouldn’t have been able to do that.”

  His chest heaved with anger. I’d done it again. But… wasn’t that a chance he’d been willing to take? He hadn’t wanted to kill anyone with the bomb. It was just his way to lure me out. So he needed to calm down. He still had me. That was his main goal. He’d still won. This wasn’t over yet. He still had cards to play.

  I may have thought him crazy before, but now I was a true believer. Worry sent shards of fear down my spine. What did he want with me? I listened to his thoughts and found him studying me and thinking it was time to get to the bottom of this.

  “You’re going to tell me how you did it. I don’t believe you have premonitions. There have been too many times you should have known things ahead of time, and you didn’t.”

  He put his gun into the back waistband of his jeans and moved toward the cupboard. Opening it, he pulled out a tray holding a scalpel and gauze, along with a needle and drugs he’d prepared to help persuade me.

  How I’d figured out that he was having an affair had made no sense to him. So he’d made it his mission to learn my secret. He
’d begun by looking into my background. There was a reason that I’d succeeded, but what he’d found defied all explanation. I claimed to have premonitions and called myself a psychic.

  In all his research and scientific studies, he’d never come across anything like it. Psychics were charlatans who preyed on the misfortune and gullibility of those desperate to believe in something spiritual. They weren’t real.

  That’s when he’d decided to test me. The incident with the shooter at the newspaper had spurred him into action. I’d had the audacity to tell everyone I’d known about the shooter because of my premonitions. So it was the perfect time to show the world I was a fake.

  But all his tests had backfired. So far, I’d bested him at every turn, until now, when he’d managed to capture me. For some reason, I’d missed that, and now he had me. A sense of accomplishment rolled over him. He’d beaten me, and now I was his. He would finally find out my secret.

  Terror seized my heart. He was insane, and I knew he wasn’t going to stop until he knew the truth. How was I going to get out of this? I took stock of my surroundings. Sure I was handcuffed, but not to the chair. I had a Kevlar vest on, so that offered me some protection. Best of all, I’d worn my watch. It still had the tracker in it.

  That meant I had to hold out until someone realized I was missing and contacted Chris. He’d turn to Uncle Joey right away. Uncle Joey would tell Ramos, and Ramos would look for me using the tracker. It could still work out.

  Beal picked up the scalpel and came toward me, thinking a few cuts to my free nerve endings would put me in the mood to cooperate. I had no idea what that meant, but it sounded painful.

  “Uh… what are you doing?” I asked.

  “You know what I want?”

  “Yes, of course I do. You’re upset with me because you think I ruined your life. Maybe I did, but you have to remember that I was just doing my job. It’s not my fault your wife hired me.”

  “I don’t care about that anymore,” he said, bringing the knife toward my face. “I just want to know how you did it.”

  “Look, I understand that you’re upset. You lost a lot. It’s too bad, and I’m sorry it worked out that way. But you shouldn’t take it out on me. I didn’t do anything wrong. You’re the one who had the affair.”