When she got voice mail, hope began to sink. Casey asked Summer to call her back. Ten minutes went by, then twenty. Casey tried again. Another voice mail. Damn it. Summer had an annoying habit of letting her phone battery die. It was the reason Casey had persuaded her to share Stacy’s number in case of emergency. This might not be an emergency but it was close enough.
Hedley was now moving toward the back of the bus. He chose a seat across the aisle and only one row up from her.
It took four rings before Stacy finally answered.
“I’ve been trying to reach Summer,” Casey said, “but her phone keeps going to voice mail. Could I speak to her please?”
“Um, she’s in the bathroom.”
Hardly convincing, but saying so wouldn’t help. “Could you have her call me as soon as possible?”
“Sure.” Stacy paused. “Is there a problem?”
Casey glanced at Hedley, aware that he was within earshot. “I’m not sure. Gotta go.”
Man, she was getting tired of secrets, of not knowing nearly enough to keep her family and colleagues safe. Casey found herself staring at Hedley. The Friends were secretive about the way they monitored MPT and weren’t forthcoming about what they did with the information they gathered. Maybe it was time to learn a little more about them.
Once again, Casey sat next to Hedley, noting the way his eyes widened. “How long have you been hosting the private Facebook group?”
He looked out the window. “A little over a year.”
“What do you discuss?”
“Just the rides we’ve taken.” He turned to her. “Why?”
“I’ve never minded the Friends’ interest in us, but if MPT executives found out that you’ve been discussing details about the company’s operation even on a private chat group, they’d be ticked.”
The corners of Hedley’s mouth twitched. She couldn’t tell if he was suppressing a smile or a grimace.
“We won’t.” His smile broadened. “No worries.”
But had they discussed MPT’s operating procedures in the past? She’d heard that Stan and the VPs had recently met with IT experts to discuss upgrading encryption software, among other things. If they discovered that Del had been snooping through databases, the Friends could be in legal trouble.
“Given the nasty comments on MPT’s page, it wouldn’t surprise me if the police were already red-flagging all activity about the company,” she said.
“They should,” Hedley replied. “Lots of nastiness out there. God knows what could happen if some nut followed through on his threats.”
Which worried her more than she wanted to say out loud. Casey stood and found a seat at the back, where she spent the next few minutes watching cheerful, animated high school students come and go. Despite the celebratory mood on board, Casey began to fume over Summer’s lack of response to her call. What the hell was she up to? Casey called again. Still no answer. She rang Stacy’s number. It went to voice mail. Avoidance wasn’t going to cut it. She left a message.
“Do I need to contact your parents to find out what’s going on, Stacy? Have Summer call me right now or I’ll be at your door after my shift ends at 1:00 AM.”
Thirty seconds later, Stacy’s frantic voice was saying, “Don’t talk to my parents! Summer’s not here.”
Big surprise. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know, I swear.”
She sounded too panicky to be lying. Casey covered her ear with her hand to drown out the exuberant high school chatter.
“Who’s she with, Stacy?” No response. Casey’s patience withered. “I don’t want to send the cops to your house, but if you won’t talk to me, then what choice do I have?”
“She’s fine. She’s with her boyfriend.”
A quick intake of breath trapped the swear word in Casey’s throat. “What boyfriend?”
“Summer’ll kill me if I tell you, but please don’t worry. He’s a good guy who’ll take care of her.”
That made her feel so much better. “Is her boyfriend one of your brothers?”
“No! Listen, I’ve been trying to get her to tell you, but she’s afraid you’ll be mad. Please don’t come to my house.” Stacy hung up.
Holy crap. Bringing a boy home had never been a problem for Summer before. Granted, Casey despised last year’s loser, Devon Price. So, what was wrong with this one? Was he a lot older? Some dope-head high school dropout? Was it actually possible that she’d hooked up with someone worse than Devon Price? Unless . . . Uh-oh. What if she’d given Devon a second chance? Summer couldn’t possibly be that dumb, could she?
Anger coiled in Casey. She forced herself to calm down. This was not the time to lose her mind. Stacy had probably given Summer a heads-up by now, so why hadn’t she called? Was she too busy with the boy? Oh lord, she didn’t dare think about what they were doing right now.
Wesley stopped in front of a high school. The teens exited while adults wearing reflective vests and carrying flashlights stood on the sidewalk and at the drop-off area.
Casey’s phone rang. Summer? Disappointment rippled through her. It was Stan.
“Adrianna’s bus stalled near the Westwood and Lougheed intersection and she can’t get it started. She’s freaking out because a group of guys insist on boarding.”
Casey glanced at Hedley, who was focused on his phone.
“Are they threatening her?” she murmured.
“Not sure. She pressed the alarm button and dispatch called the cops. Since no weapons are involved, I doubt they’ll tear over there.”
“After what happened to Benny, they’d damn well better.”
“I’m on my way,” Stan said, “but backup would be good if those guys get out of hand. What’s your twenty?”
After Casey told him, he said, “Get off at the next stop. I’ll pick you up.”
“Has the mechanic been contacted?”
“Yeah, he’s on his way.”
MPT had one mechanic on call at night. Sometimes it wasn’t enough.
Casey approached Wesley. “Let me off at the next stop.”
After she explained why, Wesley said, “Adrianna shouldn’t be driving out here in the first place, and you should be with her. Whose stupid decision was it to put you with me and not her?”
“First of all, there was another sick call and she was the only available driver. Second, Stan thought she’d feel better if he stayed nearby in the patrol car. She was fine with that.”
“Doubt she is now,” he muttered.
Casey sighed. “Yeah.”
Within sixty seconds, she was sliding into Stan’s vehicle. Rain had started to fall and was coming down harder than it had the night Benny was stabbed. She didn’t think of herself as a superstitious person, yet this downpour felt like a bad omen. Tension overwhelmed any desire for conversation. Casey could feel her entire body clenching in anticipation of yet another bloody confrontation.
Adrianna’s bus came into view. She was in the driver’s seat but otherwise the bus appeared to be empty. Stan pulled up in front of the bus. On the sidewalk, a half dozen guys stood by the front entrance.
One of them was banging on the door. “Come on, lady! It’s wet out here!”
The digital Out of Service sign glowed above the windshield. Adrianna, still as a statue, didn’t look at the boys.
“Here we go,” Stan mumbled, his face grim.
Casey stepped out of the car and slammed the door. She and Stan flashed their IDs as Stan identified himself. None of the boys were familiar.
“Sorry, guys. The bus broke down,” Stan said. “Next one won’t be here for forty minutes.”
The kid who’d been pounding on the door scowled. “All we want is someplace dry till the next one gets here. Is that too much to ask? What’s the big deal anyway?”
“Drivers don’t have to admit anyone who make them uncomfortable, and pounding on the door like that makes her plenty nervous. There’s been a lot of violence against drivers lately.”
> “Well, it’s not us,” the kid shot back. “She’s being paranoid.”
“She’s being careful.” Stan glared at the kid. “The cops are on their way.”
The kid sneered. “We’re minors. They can’t do nothin’.”
Casey had had enough of smartass punks lately. “But we can.”
“Like what?” The kid smirked. “Beat me up?”
“Take your photo.” Casey raised her phone. “As soon as we post this, every MPT driver will refuse you access.”
“Bullshit.”
“Try TransLink,” Stan remarked. “The park ’n ride isn’t far from here.”
“Screw you!” The kid sought his buddies for support, but they kept quiet. “Let’s go,” he ordered them.
The group tramped down the sidewalk. Adrianna opened the door for Casey who saw that she was shivering uncontrollably. With the bus not working, there’d be no heat at all.
“It’s okay,” Stan said, joining Casey on the bus. “They’re leaving.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ve got an extra security jacket in the car,” Stan said, “and I’ll update dispatch. Back in a couple of minutes.”
As he headed for the vehicle, Adrianna said, “Why is everyone so hostile these days?”
“Don’t know, but I sure wish it would stop.”
Adrianna’s skittish demeanor wasn’t helping things. Casey watched the boys continue west down the sidewalk. By the time she turned around, Stan was sitting behind the wheel of his car and a man was approaching him. Probably a passenger who wanted to know what was happening with the bus.
“I can’t take this anymore,” Adrianna mumbled. “One day some nut’s going to kill one of us. Look how close Benny came. I should quit this stupid job.”
“Please don’t. We need you.”
The tears in Adrianna’s eyes weren’t a surprise, but they were worrisome. She was in no shape to be driving this route, especially at night.
“If I hand in my resignation, maybe supervisors will finally respect my requests for safer routes,” Adrianna said, staring out the window. She leaned forward and squinted through the rain-splattered windshield. “What’s up with Stan?”
Through the blur of the downpour, Casey studied his car. The dome light was on and the car door open, but Stan was just sitting there. The man was gone.
Tucking wayward strands of hair behind her ears, Adrianna said, “Does Stan look slouched over to you?”
A chill washed over Casey. “Open the door!” She jumped off the platform and darted to the car. “Stan!” Blood was seeping through his shirt. “No!”
Stan groaned. “Didn’t see . . .” He closed his eyes.
TEN
Sweat coated Casey’s body as she applied pressure to Stan’s wound. Oh god, could she keep him alive? Where was the damn ambulance? Short raspy breaths were all she could manage when she’d called 9-1-1. Even now, she inhaled and exhaled in stingy bursts, afraid of breathing too deeply, taking too much air from him.
“Help’s coming,” she murmured. “Keep fighting.” Stan opened his eyes. His eyelids fluttered and closed as if exhausted by the effort.
Blood oozed between her fingers, dark and menacing in the vehicle’s dim light. Adrenalin surged through her in a swell of anxiety. Nothing felt safe, or sane, or right. The sound of approaching sirens offered only some relief. She maintained the pressure on Stan’s stomach, focusing on him completely until persistent taps on her shoulder and the word “Ma’am” caught her attention.
“We’ll take it from here,” the paramedic said.
Reluctantly, Casey let the woman take over. Cooling blood coated her hands, a droplet dripped from her fingertips onto the road. Someone handed her a wet wipe. She didn’t have the energy to even look up and thank this person.
“Ma’am?” another voice asked. “Let’s go onto the sidewalk.”
She found herself gaping into the concerned face of an RCMP constable.
“Just like Benny,” she mumbled.
His browed creased. “Can we start with you telling me who you are?” the constable asked, escorting her to the sidewalk.
“Casey Holland. I work for Stan Cordaseto, the man in the car.” She glanced at the vehicle, where Stan was now hidden from view. “He’s lost a lot of blood.” She gaped at the bloodied wipe. “Seems I have it.” She dropped the wipe on the ground.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
Although traffic was fairly light this late at night, the light had changed and the few vehicles passing by forced her to raise her voice. It wasn’t easy. She felt woozy and was pretty sure her babbling wasn’t making much sense.
“Perhaps we could speak inside the bus,” he said.
Casey followed him onto the platform, aware that the rain had let up. Adrianna, seated in her chair, appeared almost green. She’d joined Casey at the car, but then screamed and ran off.
Adrianna wiped her nose with a tissue. “Is he alive?”
“Yes,” Casey answered.
“Will he be all right?”
The million-dollar question. “Dunno.” She slumped into a seat and turned to the constable. “I didn’t see it happen.” Casey told the cop everything she had observed, making her words clearer this time. “I can’t even give a description of the suspect. All I saw was his back as he headed east.”
“You said that it was just like Benny,” the constable stated. “What does that mean?”
While Casey described the attack on Benny, the officer’s eyes widened. “I was there that night, searching the area.”
“I think it’s the same suspect.” She shook her head. “But why Stan? He’s not a bus driver.”
“We’ll find out.” The officer surveyed the area.
Casey hated that Lou was driving right now. Was he okay? Was the maniac on a tear, determined to hurt someone else tonight? The thought of this happening to him made her queasy.
“Casey?” Roberto de Luca stepped on the platform. “You okay?”
She shrugged. Roberto was a friend and MPT’s best mechanic. “They’ve got you working on a Saturday night?”
“Yeah, I’m training Maurice.”
The short and wiry Maurice stood outside the door, shuffling his feet and sucking on a cigarette. His jacket hood was pulled low over his forehead to escape the rain.
“Hell of a night for training,” she murmured.
Roberto sat down and wrapped his arms around her.
“Can you tell me what you saw?” the constable asked, moving closer to Adrianna. “Any detail might help.”
As Adrianna mumbled words too quiet to hear, Casey gazed out the windows, where blurred emergency lights flashed and strobed with the gaudiness of a fairground arcade.
“Stan’s a strong guy,” Roberto said, his tone calm and gentle. “He’ll be fine.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Images bounced around her head. Shock, she supposed, and the disturbing realization that someone was crazy or angry enough to stab MPT personnel in public. She peered out a window to see Stan being lifted into the ambulance. A sprinkling of people had gathered on the sidewalk. One of them was all too familiar. Why was Hedley here and how had he located them? The guy snapped a picture.
Casey sprang out of her seat and jumped off the platform. “Hedley! Stop taking pictures!”
He turned. “It’s just for Travis.”
Casey’s phone rang. Lou. “Are you okay?” she blurted.
“I was about to ask you the same thing,” he replied. “Heard there’s trouble. What’s going on?”
She told him while watching the ambulance speed away. For a brief moment, it occurred to her that she should be riding with him, but she was too late. Roberto and Maurice were both outside now, searching for the cause of the mechanical issue.
“Shit, Casey. I’m so sorry. This is bad,” Lou said. “Are you heading back to Wesley?”
“Probably.” Stepping back inside the bus, she wiped the rain from her
face.
“I don’t want you walking alone. That knife-wielding freak’s still out there.”
“I’ll ask one of the cops here to give me a lift.”
“We’ll talk when I get home. Stay safe, hon.”
“You too.” Casey slumped onto a seat next to the constable, who was again writing notes. “I should call Stan’s wife.”
“Mr. Cordaseto’s wife is being contacted,” he answered. “He gave the paramedics his number.”
Casey looked up. “If he was still conscious, then that’s a good sign, right?”
The constable hesitated a fraction too long. “I’m sure it is.”
“I still don’t understand how this happened,” Casey said. “Stan’s always alert. The suspect must have struck incredibly fast. He sure did with Benny.”
“The area’s being searched right now,” the constable replied.
Casey sighed. She had a feeling they wouldn’t find him. “I need to get back to the bus I was working on. Is it possible for someone to drive me?”
“I can do that. Just give me one more minute.”
She checked her watch. “Adrianna, do you want to come with me?”
Sad dark eyes turned to her. “I’d better. Looks like Roberto will be a while.”
Casey’s phone rang again. This time it was Marie, who was riding with Lou.
“How bad is Stan?” she asked.
Marie’s abruptness didn’t surprise or bother Casey. She cared about him too. “He’s conscious. Paramedics got to him fast.”
“What the hell happened?”
Casey heard recrimination in her tone. Marie was wondering how an experienced security officer could let their supervisor be ambushed right in front of her. She’d been wondering the same thing, and probably would for a long time.
“I’ll tell you everything later.” Her voice cracked. “Can’t right now.”
“I get it, but it looks like you’re now in charge of the team. A lot will be expected of you, and make sure the cops keep you in the loop.”
The Blade Man Page 8
