“That’s what I was afraid of,” Claire said.
“Claire—” Alex started but she cut him off.
“Running made me look guilty. I need to turn myself in as a show of faith. I need to get these files to law enforcement as soon as possible so they can clear me,” she said, unwilling to have this conversation right now. His hesitation had seemed to be answer enough. She didn’t have the energy to debate him. “Can I take Mason’s truck?”
Alex shook his head. “I’ve been with you this far, I’m not sending you off on your own now. But maybe we should wait. Give law enforcement some time to get this figured out.”
“Wait?” Claire asked skeptically. “Don’t you think the evidence is strong enough to clear me?”
“It’s definitely strong enough to clear you,” Alex said.
“Then why wait? The sooner my name is cleared, the sooner we can get back to our daughter. Don’t you want that?”
“Of course I do,” Alex agreed. He knew she felt guilty for going on the run. Wanting to turn herself in came as no surprise to him. “Just give me a second to forward this audio file to Mason. I’ll have him forward it to his contact. That way they’ll have the information before you walk through the front door.”
He knew how anxious she was to clear her name, to get back to their daughter. She couldn’t return to Beth’s until the charges were dropped. They needed to get to the police department so they could get this situation straightened out.
After he sent the file, he pocketed the thumb drives. “Let’s go.”
Claire didn’t need him to ask her twice.
The sun was just cresting the horizon, trying to push its way through dreary gray clouds, when they stepped out Mason’s front door. The pouring rain had turned to a light drizzle.
“I’d like to meet my daughter as soon as possible,” he said, his voice firm as they made their way down the front steps. “I’m sure these past few weeks have been confusing for her. You probably want to have her to yourself for a while to get back into a routine. I understand if you’d like me to wait.”
“I think you’ve waited long enough,” she assured him.
Her blood chilled when three men stepped out from behind Mason’s truck, weapons poised to shoot. A moment too late, Roscoe let out a warning bark from inside the house.
She felt Alex stiffen as they skidded to a stop. He reached for his gun but there wasn’t enough time.
Claire opened her mouth to scream for help, though it was doubtful any of the neighbors were up yet. She could see the houses in the neighborhood through the sparse line of trees and none had lights on. She computed all of this in the second before she was hit.
She managed a yelp as she felt a sharp pain pierce her thigh. She glanced down, surprised to see a dart sticking out of her leg. She blinked at it, watching it blur in front of her eyes.
“No!” Alex growled. He reached for the dart sticking out of his leg and yanked it out before stumbling.
Claire wanted to reach for him. Wanted to help. Instead she felt the world spin—was vaguely aware of it fading away—as she crumpled helplessly to the ground.
* * *
Alex awoke to a squeal of brakes. His body rolled and nearly hit the seat in front of him. It took a few moments to pull himself from his hazy state to one of lucidity. When the vehicle lurched forward again, he realized he was being held prisoner.
His memories flooded back in a suffocating wave.
Claire? Where was Claire?
He whipped his head around, quickly assessing his surroundings. He was in the back end of a moving vehicle. A minivan? His hands were bound. Claire was conspicuously absent. Where could they have taken her? His heart hammered as he tried to press coherent thoughts into his mind. The last thing he could recall was Claire crumpling to the sidewalk, and the awful realization that he could do nothing to help her.
The same feeling of helplessness hit him now. He couldn’t help her, couldn’t save her, if he didn’t know where she was. He shoved the feeling aside, willing a sense of determination to take its place. He couldn’t wallow in his feelings of inadequacy. He needed to take action, needed to get moving. He needed to free himself and then figure out where Claire had been taken.
The world was still cast in hazy gray light. He realized he couldn’t have been out for too long.
The vehicle jerked to another stop.
Good, he thought. They must still be in town if they were hitting stop signs. They coasted forward again.
The sound of tires whizzing over asphalt, along with the sound of the engine, nearly drowned out the conversation from the front seat. When he realized his captors might give something away, he strained to hear what they had to say.
“How long do you think the tranq will last?”
“Dunno. I’ve never used one before. Maybe I should’ve stuck Vasquez with a second dose after he yanked that dart out.”
“He’s tied up. Even if he wakes up, he won’t be going anywhere.”
Unless he could do something to change that, he knew they would be right. He frantically looked around the back end of the minivan. It was empty, aside from him. He continued listening to their conversation, anxious for news of Claire, as he searched for a way out of his bindings.
He maneuvered himself so he could reach under the seat. Maybe there was something—an abandoned tool, even an ice scraper—anything that he could use as a weapon. With his wrists wrapped together, maneuvering his hands under the seat was difficult. He readjusted, and his forearm scraped against something sharp. He pulled back, feeling with his hands, trying to find what he’d bumped into. A piece of metal jutted down from the seat frame. It had a rough edge. But would it be jagged enough to do any real damage to the rope?
Hope and determination was a powerful combination as he readjusted again. With a sawing motion, he began rubbing his restraints against the metal. He ignored the ache that crept into his shoulders as he continued to awkwardly slide his bound wrists back and forth.
“When Vazquez and Mitchell permanently disappear, no one will question it. They’re already on the run. It’ll look like they left the country after all.”
“This would’ve been so much easier if we could’ve just taken them out in the driveway instead of messing around with tranq guns.”
“The boss had a point. Blood from two bodies makes an awful mess. Leaves too much evidence. Whoever lives there would’ve seen blood all over the driveway, called the cops for sure. That would’ve blown the cover story. Who’d believe they’d taken off to Canada after leaving that much blood behind? No one. Then law enforcement would be all over that case.” He grumbled, “Got to do this nice and tidy. Leave no evidence.”
His cohort scoffed. “What about the kid? Think the cops will believe they left the kid behind?”
“Claire left the kid with her sister. It’ll look like that was her plan all along.”
Alex continued to work, relieved when he saw the thick rope had begun to fray. His joints burned as he intensified his movements.
Their plan didn’t surprise him. Kill him. Kill Claire. Dump their bodies where no one would find them. If he didn’t free himself of the ropes, they might pull it off. The men were right. There was a good chance that law enforcement would assume they’d skipped the country.
Not that either one of them would ever leave without their daughter.
“We’ll get rid of Vasquez. I’m glad the boss was so insistent on personally dealing with Mitchell. I’ve never killed a lady before. A man’s gotta draw the line somewhere.”
Alex frowned as he continued to saw. Back and forth. Back and forth.
The vehicle jolted to another stop. He didn’t know how much time he had left. He wanted to use the traffic stops to his advantage, but they had to be nearing the edge of the city.
Xavier had proved himself to be
ruthless. Alex needed to get to Claire.
“It was smart thinking to put a tracking device on that truck.”
Alex winced, irritated with himself for not checking over Mason’s truck. No wonder they hadn’t given chase as Alex had expected them to. They’d known they could track them with the advantage of catching them unaware.
The other man scoffed. “My neck is on the line with these two. We don’t deliver, we don’t get paid. I hope those little plastic things Vazquez had on him are what the boss has been looking for.”
Suddenly freed, Alex’s hands whipped backward. He quickly shook out his fingers, trying to regain feeling. A quick pat-down confirmed the Jumpdrives, his gun, phone and keys had been taken. His gaze fell upon the black latch on the floorboard. He shoved himself as tightly against the back seat as he could while tugging on the handle. The floorboard popped up. With his free hand, he reached underneath the lifted end. He breathed a silent sigh of relief when his fingers circled around a length of cold metal. He tugged the tire iron free.
With another shriek of the brake pads, the minivan bounced to a halt.
Alex launched himself over the back seat. He swung the tire iron, letting it connect with the driver. The passenger jumped in surprise as he reached for something—probably a gun—but this time Alex was quick enough to deter him. He slammed his booted foot into the man’s head.
He spotted his belongings shoved into the cup holder. He reached for them as the driver cursed and clutched at his head. The van rolled forward as his foot slid off the brake pedal. The man swayed, as if trying to gather his wits. The passenger gave himself a vigorous shake as he reached to his side again.
Gripping his belongings, Alex tugged the side door open. He leaped from the rolling vehicle, narrowly missing a car. Horns began to honk. He raced across the intersection, glancing over his shoulder before ducking behind a brick building.
The passenger had stumbled from the van. He stood in the street, gun raised, but he hesitated, as if he couldn’t quite focus.
Alex rounded the corner, raced across the street. He frantically searched for a cab, running several blocks before he finally spotted one. He waved his arms, flagging it down. As he hopped in, he shot off the address for Mason’s. His captors had covered too great of a distance for him to run.
While the cabbie drove him back, he activated the app he’d installed on Claire’s phone. His heart raced when he realized where her captors were taking her.
As they rolled down Mason’s driveway, he tossed more than enough cash at the driver to cover the fare. He dialed 9-1-1 as he raced to Mason’s truck.
When the operator answered, he gave her the address of the shack, told her that’s where the police could find an abducted woman and warned that she was likely being held hostage at gunpoint.
Despite the operator’s instruction to stay on the line, he hung up. He’d given them what they needed.
“Hang on, Claire,” he muttered as he tore out of Mason’s driveway.
The sun had finally crested the horizon. He tried not to think about how much time had lapsed since Claire had been taken. He would get to her in time.
He had to.
His phone vibrated, alerting him to a call. He assumed it was the 9-1-1 operator but answered when he realized it was Mason.
“Yeah?” he barked into the phone, steering with one hand as he headed out of town.
“I’m calling to let you know I forwarded the files to my contact,” Mason said. “He was relieved to get it. I thought you’d want to know that Xavier was arrested early this morning.”
Alex gripped the phone as Mason’s words spun around in his head. Finally he said, “You’re sure?”
“Positive.” Mason paused. “I thought you’d be happy about that. What’s going on?”
Alex quickly relayed the events of the morning.
“Wait. Hold up,” Mason ordered. “You said they’re taking Claire to their boss. But I thought Xavier was in charge of this operation. If he’s in jail, who has Claire?”
“That,” Alex said, “is what I want to know.”
THIRTEEN
As the trunk creaked open, Claire squinted into the sunlight. She was still groggy, her body felt as heavy as lead. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out, nor was she sure of how long she’d been awake. Time had been interminable once she’d realized she was trapped in the trunk of a car, speeding down a bumpy road.
Staring at the shaggy-haired man who’d attacked at Mason’s, she almost wished she could go back to the security of the closed trunk. Almost.
“Look at you, wide-awake,” Shaggy drawled. “Guess that means I don’t have to drag you out of there. It was hard enough getting you in, you can get yourself out.”
Claire thought the throbbing aches that radiated throughout her body were probably the result of being dragged down the driveway and then dumped into the trunk. Her head throbbed. Her wrists ached from tugging at her restraints.
“Where’s Alex?” Her voice sounded scratchy. She tried to sit up but her body felt like a limp noodle.
“Couldn’t tell ya.”
“You must know,” she insisted.
“I don’t know,” he said. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t bother to tell you. Wouldn’t do you any good to know, anyhow. You’re here. He’s wherever. And there’s nothing either one of you can do about it.”
Claire gritted her teeth. At least he didn’t say Alex was dead. Although he didn’t say he wasn’t.
“Come on then.” He produced a gun and prodded her in the side with it. “Get out of there. If you make me drag you out, I promise I won’t be gentle.”
She glared at him as she awkwardly rolled upward on her elbows. She slid one leg out of the trunk, smacked her funny bone as she tried to prop herself on the trunk’s edge and then ungracefully slid the rest of the way out. When she looked around, she was startled to realize she was back at the hunting shack.
It looked every bit as desolate as she remembered it. Weathered siding. Cracked shingles. Now it sported a broken window. Had it only been a few days since she’d been here last? Since Alex had stormed back into her life? It felt like a whole lot longer than that.
Aside from the shattered window, she noticed another change.
A white Mercedes was parked in the dirt driveway.
She didn’t recognize the car as Xavier’s, but it certainly looked like something he would drive.
“Why did you bring me here?” she asked.
“Just following the boss’s orders.” He motioned toward the shack with the gun. “Now get moving.”
Claire shuffled her feet as she headed toward the building.
She noted the sky had cleared to a soft shade of blue smattered with puffy white clouds. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves on the surrounding trees. Judging by the height of the sun, it was still early morning, and far too pretty of a day to die.
No. She wasn’t going to die. Not today, anyway. She would find a way out of this. Her phone had been taken. Though her hands were tied in front of her, and she couldn’t reach around to grab it, she could tell the comforting bulge in her back pocket was conspicuously absent. Her captor hadn’t patted her down too well, though. Of that she was certain. Because even though her phone was gone, the vial that she always wore still rested comfortingly against her chest, hiding beneath her shirt.
“How did you find us?” she demanded.
“We put a tracking device on the truck while you were inside,” he scoffed. “Did you really think we’d risk losing you considering how long it took us to find you?”
“You’re not going to get away with this. The cops already have a strong case against Xavier. He’ll be arrested soon, if he hasn’t been already,” she said with a confidence she didn’t feel. “Once he folds, you’re going down. If you bring me back to town, right now, maybe they�
�ll go easy on you.”
“I think I’ll take my chances. Get moving,” he said. “The sooner I drop you off, the sooner I can get out of here.”
She grudgingly moved forward again. “You’re not staying?”
The man was holding a gun. Claire should be happy to see him go. However, she knew that he was nothing more than a lackey. The real danger waited for her inside the shack.
“Why would I stay?” He scowled. “I’m paid to make the delivery. The boss made it clear that she wants to deal with you herself.”
Claire stumbled to a stop. “She?”
“She.” Another jab to the side. “Now move it.”
Claire pivoted around as the door of the shack opened.
Veronica Ambrose, Xavier’s wife, stepped out into the sunshine. Her blond hair was twisted into a tidy chignon. Though she wore an elegant pantsuit, she wore sensible shoes instead of her usual spiky heels. The pistol in her hand looked dainty but Claire had no doubt it was deadly. “I was starting to wonder if you would ever arrive.”
“I came straight here, ma’am,” Shaggy said. He dug in his pocket and produced Claire’s phone. “This is the only thing she had on her.”
“Get rid of it,” Veronica ordered. “I don’t want it.”
He pocketed it again. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“Not now,” she answered. “But I’ll keep in touch.”
“Where’s Alex?” Claire demanded. “Where is he?”
Shaggy flashed a smug smile before hustling back to the car they’d arrived in.
“I’m not sure where he is,” Veronica said. “But I assure you, he’s being dealt with. Just as you’ll be.”
“Veronica, you don’t have to be a part of this,” Claire implored as the engine revved and Shaggy drove off. “You don’t have to become involved at all. It’s not too late for you to walk away.”
Veronica smiled. “Is that what you think? You really are as simpleminded as your husband. Perhaps the two of you had more in common than you realized. I put this plan into motion. It would make no sense to walk away from it now.”
Reunion on the Run Page 17