Next Exit, Dead Ahead

by CW Browning

  “I live in Jersey,” John retorted. “If I only have a heart attack, I'm in good shape!”

  Blake chuckled as they got out of the SUV, glancing around as they slammed the doors.

  “Think they know you're coming?” John asked, looking at the forbidding gray house.

  “Undoubtedly,” Blake answered.

  “Want company this time?”

  “Nope.” Blake started up the sidewalk. “You just watch my car.”

  John opened his mouth to toss a smart comment back, but the words died on his lips as the front door of the house swung open and two immense Latino men stepped onto the cement stoop. They crossed their arms over their barrel chests and scowled at Blake, standing shoulder to shoulder and blocking his advance.

  “You sure about that?” John called.

  “Yep!”

  Blake rolled his shoulders and eyed the two behemoths before him, sizing them up. He smiled.

  “You can make this easy on yourselves and just tell me what I want to know,” he told them, speaking in Spanish just to be sure they understood. They looked surprised, but then grinned in amusement and uncrossed their arms. Blake let out an imperceptible sigh. “Or we can all get our workout in for the day,” he added in resignation, flexing his hands.

  John watched from the curb as the two gorillas charged Blake simultaneously. The scuffle lasted all of maybe two minutes and when it ended, Blake was the only one rising from the pile of bodies on the ground. John was impressed, despite himself. He moved forward, clapping as Blake brushed dirt and dead weeds off his jeans.

  “That wasn't agency training,” he said, nudging one of the unconscious men with his foot.

  “No, it wasn't,” Blake agreed with a quick grin. A gash on his forehead above his right eye oozed blood and his lip showed a tendency to swell, but he looked none the worse for it. “Do me a favor and make sure they don't wake up before I'm done in there. As fun as that was, I'm not feeling a round two.”

  John chuckled.

  “I don't blame you,” he said, watching as Blake stepped onto the stoop and disappeared through the door.

  Stephanie hit speed dial and held her phone to her ear, watching as Rachel climbed into the back of the ambulance. Marcus held tightly to her other hand, waving to Rachel from beside Stephanie. Rachel waved back as the paramedic closed the door and the ambulance pulled away from the curb, the lights flashing above.

  “I have Marcus Nuñez,” Stephanie said without preamble as John answered. “He's fine. Rachel isn't. She's on the way to the hospital now.”

  “The guide?” John asked. “What happened? Where were they?”

  “Karl was holding them in a shed behind the maze at the back of the prison,” Stephanie told him grimly, turning to walk toward her Mustang. Marcus skipped along next to her, holding her hand with a death grip. “Jenaro was paying him to keep them in line. He kidnapped Rachel that night after the haunted maze closed, with the intention of having her help control Marcus. He called in Karl when it became apparent Rachel wasn't going to play ball very easily. They were right under our nose the whole time.”

  “Wait, so let me get this straight,” John said. “Jenaro kidnapped the boy, realized he needed a nanny and kidnapped Rachel, who refused to...to do what, exactly?”

  “Instill the fear of God into him,” Stephanie answered. “I gather Jenaro thought he could control her the way he controlled Jessica. He didn't take into account that Rachel wasn't raised in fear in Mexico.”

  “What happened to her?” John asked. “You said she's on her way to the hospital.”

  “Karl beat her beyond recognition,” Stephanie told him. “It's bad. I wouldn't have recognized her.”

  John remained silent for a long moment.

  “How did Karl come into it?” he finally asked, his voice tight.

  “Rachel says Karl's been bringing drugs into the area for the Cartel for a while now,” Stephanie replied, walking Marcus around to the passenger's door of her car. “When Gomez saw the museum, he decided to use it, with Karl's help.”

  “How did we find them?” John asked.

  Stephanie watched Marcus climb into the backseat and reach over to grab the seat belt himself. She smiled at him and closed the door before answering John.

  “We didn't. The Black Widow did.”

  “That's who called you at the IT building,” John said. “So that's why you took off so fast.”

  “I didn't have time to explain,” Stephanie said, circling to the driver's door. “As it was, I got here too late. She was already gone...with Karl.”

  John cursed.

  “Of course she was!” he muttered. “Hey! Hold on...”

  Stephanie slid behind the wheel, raising an eyebrow slightly as she heard a grunt and a muffled thump over the phone. She listened to another thump, then John was back.

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “Where are they now?”

  “I don't know. Where are you?” Stephanie asked, starting the engine.

  “Babysitting,” came the cryptic reply. “I'm with Blake. He thinks he can get a lead on Jenaro's location. What are you going to do now?”

  “Try to find Kwan,” Stephanie replied.

  “Do you need me?” John asked. “I can be done here shortly.”

  “No, you go ahead and help Blake. I have a mini-partner for the afternoon,” Stephanie told him, glancing at Marcus. “Be careful. If you guys think you found him, call me before you do anything.”

  “Of course,” John agreed. “You know, Lina said she had a tracking dot on Kwan.”

  “Oh, I haven't forgotten,” Stephanie assured him. “I've already got three calls into her voicemail.”

  “What do you think she's doing with Karl?” he asked after a moment.

  “I don't think I really want to know,” she replied honestly. “I just hope she leaves him alive so we can question him.”

  “Good luck with that,” John murmured. “If the guide looks as bad as you say, and she knows Karl's responsible, I wouldn't place any bets on ever seeing him again.”

  “Stephanie has the Nuñez boy,” John told Blake as he emerged from the house, stepping over one of the freshly-unconscious guards.

  “Wonderful!” Blake exclaimed, a big smile breaking over his face. “How is he?”

  “She says he's fine. The guide was with him, but she's not so good. They took her to the hospital. Steph said she's beaten up pretty bad.”

  Blake glanced at John as they walked toward the truck.

  “Jenaro?” he asked.

  “No. Karl Didinger, the missing night guard,” John told him.

  “So you got back two of your witnesses,” Blake said, climbing into the SUV. “That's good news!”

  “Well, not exactly,” John replied, getting in next to him and reaching for his seat belt. “We have the guide, but not Karl.”

  “What do you mean?” Blake demanded, starting the engine.

  John glanced at him.

  “It's complicated,” he murmured, wincing inwardly at his response. It drove him insane when Damon or Alina said those words, yet here he sat, using the same phrase.

  Blake raised an eyebrow.

  “That seems to be an ongoing theme with you guys,” he observed.

  John nodded glumly.

  “I know,” he agreed. “Don't hold it against us. It's not our fault.”

  “I've noticed that too,” Blake said with a chuckle.

  “Where are we headed?” John asked as Blake pulled a U-turn and hit the gas.

  “An old abandoned factory near the train tracks,” Blake told him. “I found an informative, if not very bright, witness who was there when Lorenzo stopped in. Our witness remembered that a friend of his got kicked out of an abandoned factory, along with some other squatters, not too long ago by some mean Mexicans. Turns out Lorenzo mentioned this old factory that night.”

  “That's convenient.”

  “Isn't it? That's not all. According to my new best friend, Lorenzo was a
live and well when he left the house, all accounts paid and no one unhappy with him. In fact, it seems like he was something of a hit with them all.”

  “And you trust this information?” John asked, looking at Blake doubtfully.

  Blake nodded.

  “He was too far gone to make it up,” he said.

  “So, where's this abandoned factory?” John asked.

  Blake glanced at him.

  “Along the train tracks, about ten minutes from here,” he said. “He said it's a ways back from the road, but you can see what's left of the roof through the trees.”

  John frowned thoughtfully.

  “I might know it,” he said slowly. “If it's the place I'm thinking of, the train goes right by it. It's a shell of a building, over-grown, and it's been empty for years. It's uninhabitable. Jenaro can't be staying there.”

  “Well, it's all we've got,” Blake said. “Let's see if it leads anywhere.”

  Stephanie rubbed her eyes and picked up her cell phone from where it vibrated on her desk. Marcus sat in John's chair, playing on Rob's iPad, and sipping hot chocolate that another agent had bought him from the vending machine. The kid was in spoiled heaven, soaking up every second of fussing attention he got as people stopped by to congratulate Stephanie on finding the boy.

  “Hello?” she answered, glancing at her watch.

  “Three voicemails?” Alina asked, sounding amused. “One would have sufficed.”

  “I wanted to make sure you got the message,” Stephanie retorted.

  A soft chuckle came from the other end of the phone.

  “Oh, I got the message,” Alina murmured. “I'll send the tracking software to your phone. I've already unlocked it so you can access his location. Just install it like any other app. It will alert you when he's moving. He's at an urgent care clinic in Mt. Laurel right now.”

  “Any idea why that might be?” Stephanie asked.

  “At a guess, I'd say he needs urgent care,” Alina retorted dryly.

  “Funny.” Stephanie stretched and reached for the cup of coffee on her desk. “What about Karl?”

  “What about Karl?”

  “Is he in need of urgent care, too?” Stephanie demanded.

  “Oh, I don't think urgent care would do much good,” Alina answered, sounding downright cheerful.

  “Lina, I need to bring him in!” Stephanie hissed, lowering her voice. “Am I going to need Larry to do it?”

  “Is that your ME?”

  “Yes.”

  “Not just yet.”

  “Thank God!” Stephanie breathed a sigh of relief, but Alina's next words made her head drop onto the desk with a thud.

  “But I can't guarantee how long you have.”

  “For the love of...where is he?” Stephanie asked tiredly.

  “In his apartment. You'll want to take the medics with you,” Alina told her cheerfully.

  “Did you at least find out what you wanted to know?” Stephanie asked. “I know you didn't take him just to avenge a complete stranger, even if she was brutally beaten.”

  “Oh, I got everything I needed,” Viper answered softly. “He's all yours now...what's left of him.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Alina unlocked the door to the condo and stepped inside, closing the door behind her silently.

  “Jessica?” she called.

  Movement came from the kitchen and Jessica poked her head out, a coffee pot in her hand.

  “Si?”

  “I have good news,” Alina told her in Spanish, moving forward toward the kitchen.

  “I just made coffee,” Jessica offered, holding up the coffee pot. “Would you like some?”

  “I'd love some.”

  Alina followed her into the kitchen and watched as Jessica pulled a second mug from the cabinet. She glanced around, noting the spotless counters and sink, and raised an eyebrow.

  “Haven't you been eating?” she asked as Jessica poured coffee into the mug.

  “Yes, but I have nothing to do all day but worry,” Jessica replied. “So I clean. Do you take cream or sugar?”

  “Nothing, thank you.”

  Jessica nodded and handed her the mug of black coffee before setting the pot back into the machine and reaching for the milk for her own coffee.

  “What's this good news?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder. “Have you found Jenaro?”

  “Yes.” Alina sipped her coffee. “I know where he is and soon he won't be a threat to you anymore.”

  “I can go home soon?” Jessica asked hopefully, turning to face her.

  Alina looked at her, her lips curving slightly.

  “You can come with me now,” she told her softly. “You see, I also found Marcus.”

  Jessica gasped and set her coffee down, her dark eyes flaring wide as a big smile crossed her drawn, tired face.

  “Is he ok? Where is he? Is he hurt?” she asked, the questions rolling off her tongue in rapid-fire Spanish. “When did you find him? Does Jenaro know he's gone?”

  Alina waited for her to finish, sipping her coffee. When Jessica finally ran out of questions, she glanced up.

  “He's fine,” she told her. “Jenaro doesn't know he's gone yet, but he will. Marcus is safe right now. I can take you to him, but you will have to answer questions.”

  “Where is he?”

  “With the FBI,” Alina said, setting her mug down on the counter. “They have a lot of questions for you, I'm sure. I've given them the transcript we agreed on of what you told me, but if I know Agent Walker, she'll have a lot more that she wants to know.”

  “You trust this Agent Walker?” Jessica asked.

  “I do.”

  “Then we shall go,” Jessica announced.

  Alina nodded.

  “There's something else,” she murmured. “Rachel was with Marcus when I found him.”

  “Rachel?” Jessica exclaimed.

  “Jenaro took her to control Marcus,” Alina explained slowly. “When she wouldn't discipline him for trying to escape, and actually helped instead, Jenaro decided additional help was needed.”

  “Oh God.” Jessica leaned against the counter, her face paling. “I know Jenaro. I know what that means.”

  “Rachel is...not recognizable right now,” Alina said, trying to be tactful. “She'll be ok, but I want you to be prepared. She placed herself between Marcus and the bastard sent to keep them in line.”

  “How bad is she?” Jessica asked.

  “Pretty bad,” Alina answered truthfully.

  “And the man?”

  “Worse,” Viper said softly.

  Jessica shivered at the calm chill in her voice, but she nodded in satisfaction.

  “Good. Does Marcus blame himself?”

  “I think so.” Alina shrugged. “I'm not used to children, but I know I'd blame myself. Agent Walker will be able to tell you more. I took him to safety, then left him with Rachel while I attended to Karl.”

  “Karl!” Jessica cried in surprise. “The nice guard from the museum?”

  “Yeah, he had everyone fooled,” Alina said, glancing at her watch. “Come on. If I'm going to get you to your son today, we have to go now.”

  “I'm ready now,” Jessica announced, running out of the kitchen and grabbing her purse from the living room.

  Alina nodded and walked over to turn off the coffee pot. She did a once through the apartment, then went to the door and opened it, stepping outside into the plush hallway. Jessica followed her and Alina locked the door behind them. She smiled at Jessica.

  “Soon, you and your family will be free of the Casa Reino Cartel,” she said softly.

  Jessica's eyes suddenly swam with tears.

  “I prayed to the Virgin Mary every day since Gomez came back. I knew she would send us help,” she whispered. “You're an angel, sent from the Holy Mother.”

  Viper blinked and turned to walk down the hall.

  “God help us all if that's true,” she murmured under her breath.

 
; John got out of the SUV, taking in the abandoned shell of a building before them. The old factory was almost part of the landscape now, with ivy growing up the sides and creeping along the edges of the roof. What used to be the parking area was completely overrun with weeds and grass that erupted through the old, cracked cement, and the road leading there was little more than a path now. The old building had every indication of being forgotten by man, the space reclaimed by nature.

  “I see what you mean about it being uninhabitable,” Blake murmured, joining him in front of the SUV. “Why is this even still here?”

  “Who knows,” John said, shaking his head. “Probably cost too much to take it down when it closed, then it got forgotten over the years.”

  He looked around and paused, his eyes narrowing at the sight of several red mulberry trees at the side of the building. John pressed his lips together, staring at them thoughtfully until Blake pulled his attention away.

  “We're not the first visitors,” he said, nodding to some fresh tire tracks a few feet away.

  John glanced at them and went over to get a closer look.

  “There are two sets here,” he called, bending down. “Definitely recent.”

  “Well, that's a good start,” Blake answered, pulling out his gun and flipping off the safety. “You want to take the back, or go in together?”

  John straightened up and pulled out his 9mm, glancing around the deserted wilderness.

  “Let's go in together,” he said.

  Blake nodded and they started across the crumbling cement walkway toward the entrance of the factory. The bottom of the old front door had been painted at one time, but now it was just a rusted, steel half-door with broken glass in the top and a broken lock. Blake pushed the door open and stepped inside. John followed, holding his gun up near his shoulder, his eyes scanning the entryway they found themselves in. The front area was surprisingly intact, with a counter dividing the area in half. A door behind the counter led to the factory floor beyond, visible through a long, empty section that presumably held plate glass when the building was in use. Blake glanced down the short hallway at the other end of the entryway and then looked at John. John nodded and they moved down the short hallway. Three doors in the hallway were ajar. Two were restrooms and the third led to a stairwell, covered in graffiti and layered with dirt and dead leaves that had blown in through a gaping hole in the outer wall where a window used to be.