by Todd Borg
The man held her as he backed away from us. He dragged her over to the first door in the hallway, pushed it open, and backed into the room, taking Jonni with him.
“If anyone opens this door, the kid dies.” He sounded desperate. I believed he would follow through on his threat.
He shut the door. I heard a lock click.
Brie ran toward us and stopped next to the door. She went to grab the doorknob then stopped, holding her hands up as if the doorknob were burning hot.
“Wait,” I said.
Vince was still on the floor. The dim light from the wall sconces reflected in his eyes. He looked lost and desperate and helpless, unable to even stand up.
I heard a sliding sound from the room, like a person dragging their shoe across the floor.
Or a window sliding open.
“They’re going out the window,” Diamond said. “Vince, you wait here. Make sure they don’t come out as part of a fakeout. Owen and I will go outside and see if we can find them.”
Vince didn’t respond. He acted comatose.
I ran down the stairs two at a time. Spot ran past me. Diamond caught up to me at the second floor. We went down the next staircase to the kitchen and crawled out through the secret entry.
Once outside, I said, “Diamond, you go clockwise. I’ll go counter-clockwise.”
Diamond nodded and we sprinted away.
When I got to the front of the house, I looked up at the top level. The third floor was mostly within a large roof. The roofline was interrupted with gables, extending over the bedroom windows for both the second and third floors.
The first gable on the third floor would be the room the kidnapper dragged Jonni into.
In the dim, dawning light, it looked like the window was open. But I saw no sign of Jonni or her captor. I made a mental map of how they would have escaped. Below the window was a bit of roof. Below that was another gable and window, this one for one of the second floor rooms. If one scrambled down next to that window, they could get to the eave of the roof. From there it would be a significant distance to the ground. But there was no doubt both the kidnapper and Jonni were athletic enough to make the drop.
They must have moved fast. There was no sign of them.
Diamond came around from the other direction.
“Gone?” he said.
“Yeah. Let’s run for the parking lots. You head left, I’ll head right. He’s got to be nearby, probably about to drag Jonni into a vehicle.”
I sprinted away with Spot at my side. The drive from the mansion goes by a sizable parking lot. There were multiple vehicles. But I saw no movement. I continued on toward the next area where I might find cars. I watched Spot’s head as he loped along. He always turns to look at anything interesting. But he seemed to focus straight ahead.
My Jeep and Brie’s pickup were in the distance. I thought I saw movement to the side. Two people running. A large man chasing a small kid. The man was carrying something long and thin.
The rifle.
Somehow, Jonni had gotten away from him and was running for her life. The man was gaining on her.
In an ideal situation, I could send Spot to take down the man. But Jonni and the man were too close to each other. I had no easy way to differentiate them to Spot. And he’d been near both of them in the third-floor hallway, so neither of their scents would stand out as unique.
I sped up my own pace to an all-out sprint. Spot loped next to me. If I timed it well, and if I could run very fast, I could intercept the man like a tackler coming in from the side.
I made like an Olympic sprinter, willing my body to move like that of a 24-year-old champion.
But it doesn’t work like that in your 40s. My lungs hurt, and my joints felt stiff, and my speed didn’t seem to increase. Nevertheless, I closed in on them. It was still dark out. Maybe the man didn’t know I was there.
At the last moment, he sensed my presence. He changed direction like an experienced NFL player, and hit me with just as much focus as I hit him.
The collision was like hitting a tree, the impact brutal. We both bounced away. His rifle flew into the darkness of the forest. We hit the ground in a horizontal position. I sensed him tumbling as I skidded. My thigh took a major blow as I slid on the pavement. But it wasn’t a serious injury, and I realized it was because my pipe club in my cargo pocket provided protection from abrasion.
When I came to a stop, I felt dizzy. My head throbbed, my thinking was foggy, and I felt fire on my temple. I realized I’d hit my head and cheekbone.
I tried to turn toward the kidnapper. My vision wasn’t clear. The man looked like a wavering spirit floating through jail bars as he pushed himself up and got to his feet. He took a moment to stand with his arms out as if trying to balance. I realized the jail bars were a bike rack. The man once again ran toward Jonni.
I made a feeble attempt at spinning on the ground, swung out my foot, and managed to kick at the man’s legs as he ran by. My shoe connected with his shin, a hard blow that felt like I’d kicked a piece of wooden furniture.
The man once again sprawled forward to the pavement. He got his arms out in front of him as he went down, palms grinding to a stop on the asphalt and cushioning his fall. But it looked like his chin hit the pavement, and he was stunned again.
I strained to turn my head and see where Jonni had gone. She was sitting on the ground next to Brie’s pickup, pulling shoes onto her feet. I remembered Vince had said she kept a pair of rollerblades in both his pickup and Brie’s pickup.
I could hear her whimpers of fear. She did a fast, jerking tug on the laces, tying knots, getting the skates on in what was probably record time.
I pushed myself up onto hands and knees. Hung my head. Tried to concentrate.
Next to me, the man I’d tripped did a slow push-up, got to his feet, and made a little shake of his head as if to remember what he was doing. He looked at me with fury, then looked around as if wondering where he’d lost his rifle. He reached down to the little leather holster and pulled out his karambit knife and advanced on me. Then he sensed movement from Jonni’s direction, turned, and saw her standing up on her skates.
Jonni pushed off and started skating away toward the highway. The man must have realized he would never catch her by running after her. He ran over to the bike rack. He scanned the bikes, grabbing at several. They all were locked. He found an orange model with a thin steel cable lock. The lock didn’t loop through the wheels but instead went from the frame to a lamppost near the bike rack. The post was 8 feet high. The man lifted the bike up above his head. The bike cable would possibly fit over the light if held just right. But dangling from the bike, the loop caught on the lamp. The man gave the bike a shake and a powerful thrust. The cable went a bit higher but snagged on the edge of the lamp housing. The man swore. He threw the bike up with a tremendous effort.
The projecting part of the lamp housing broke off, freeing the cable. The bike arced through the air and crashed to the pavement. The kidnapper ran over and picked it up. The cable lock hung down to the side. The man twisted it and made another loop with the cable. He hooked the loop over the seat so the cable was held up and out of the way of the pedals.
I had gotten to my feet. The world seemed to waver. I was too dizzy to bend down to my ankle holster. With great focus, I pulled my Lowe’s sap out of my pocket and stepped toward the man. I concentrated on my balance.
The man hopped on the bike. Almost immediately, he realized the seat was set far too low, so he straightened up and began pedaling while standing.
I lifted my sap, but the man got away from me before I could make a focused effort.
The man was wounded, and his head must have throbbed from bouncing his chin on the pavement. But the advantages of bicycle propulsion made inline skates no contest against a bicycle, even one too small. A bicycle has a leveraged powertrain, allowing any modest rider to achieve high speeds. A skater has to kick and thrust and expend more energy for each incremental i
ncrease in speed.
The man quickly propelled his stolen bike up to a substantial speed, and he shot off after Jonni.
Spot was still near, watching me and the man and Jonni as she disappeared into the dark. If I’d been quick to give him a command to take down the man, he would likely have made the distinction between man and child. But I was slow and foggy, and sending a dog to attack requires the same careful forethought as shooting a gun. I also had seen the man’s karambit knife. He might be able to slash a dog as it approached next to him on the bicycle. I needed more time to think it through.
I put the pipe sap back into my pocket as I turned and limped toward the Jeep.
“C’mon, boy,” I said through clenched teeth. I looked for Diamond, but he must have been searching through one of the other parking lots. I got to the Jeep, opened the door for Spot, jumped in after him, and started the engine. I didn’t know where Jonni and the man had gone other than heading down the drive toward the park entrance and the highway beyond. I followed.
Despite my headlights and the approaching dawn, the road was still quite dark. I flipped on my high beams, but saw no movement ahead. I tried to imagine how Jonni would think.
Rollerblading on a highway was rougher and harder than on a bike path, which is usually smoother. Highways also have cars, making them more difficult to navigate. I guessed that Jonni had gone toward the highway and then turned onto the West Shore bike path. But if so, had she gone north or south?
If it were me, I’d go south. I had a vague sense the path south was more sheltered and would provide more opportunities to skate unobserved in the dark, more places to sneak off the path and hide. I had no clear evidence for my thought, just instinct.
The bike path might have been wide enough to drive on with the Jeep, but that wasn’t reliable, especially at night. So I drove past the path to the highway, took a hard left, and headed south, my tires scraping loose sand and road dirt.
At first, I could see neither Jonni nor the guy on the bike. Maybe he’d already caught her and strangled her into giving up the software password. Maybe he was already cutting her into pieces with his lethal knife. But I guessed she had at least a small chance of evading him in the dark.
I tried to call Diamond on my radio. But we were too far apart for any connection.
As I had that thought, a light turned on through the forest to my left. Turning to watch as I drove, I saw that the man on the bicycle had a light he’d hooked to something near his waist. It was a blue-white LED, very bright. It shone a dramatic cone of light down the path. Captured in its glow was Jonni, skating fast, but not fast enough.
She made rhythmic strides, powering forward on her skates. Her speed was substantial. But the dark form of the man coming up from behind on his bike was demoralizing. He was still standing as he pedaled, his feet a circular blur. It was like watching a speeding car on the freeway, overtaking a small underpowered vehicle.
It seemed obvious that Jonni had no chance. From my position on the highway, I tried to see an opening in the trees where I could drive off the highway and crash through to the bike path and get in front of the man. But there was no opening. Even if I could find a driveway crossing up ahead, I would only be able to stop and get out and run back to find Jonni after the man had assaulted her.
Other than the man’s belt light, the only other lights were distant street intersection lights. They weren’t enough to suggest how I could get to him. But his light showed he had closed to within 20 yards of Jonni, and he was gaining fast. Then the highway veered to the right as the bike path went left. Jonni and the man went out of my sight.
I was approaching a hill, and the bike path builders had decided on a grade that would take the path away from the road. Flooring the Jeep, making it downshift and rev the engine, I raced up the hill.
As the road climbed, it curved back toward the bike path. I scanned the dark forest, fearing the worst. There was nothing.
Then I saw movement. Jonni came into view. The kidnapper was just 10 yards behind, still standing, pedaling hard, gaining on her, his cone of blue light lighting her like she was on stage.
I saw Jonni make a hurried glance behind her. Her eyes visible in the harsh glow.
The bike path began a long, sweeping turn to the left as it started climbing a grade. The man was almost on Jonni. I expected him to leap and grab her at any moment.
Jonni looked back again, probably fearing for her life.
Then I saw something change in her look. For a moment, it didn’t seem like she was terrified. It seemed more like a look of calculation. It was similar to the look when she talked to the guard at Stone Lodge, saying she could help the man with his smart phone.
As the man came almost within touching distance, Jonnie bent at the waist, leaning forward. Like a speed-skating Olympian on ice, she put one arm behind her, bent behind her back. Then she began a crossover step as the path began to climb up to the left. It’s a turning technique I was familiar with. But I’d never seen it quite this effective.
As Jonni leaned into the turn, each step brought her right foot forward and out. She crossed her right foot over in front of her left. Stepping down onto her right foot, she drove it outward in a strong push. It was a powerful move, one that required strength and focus. But it was a type of turn that could increase a skater’s turning speed instead of slowing it.
Jonni exuded power as she stepped into the turn, doing the crossover, stepping forward with her left. She went up the grade fast. Her speed increased with each step.
The man’s speed was very fast. But as he got within reaching distance of Jonni, he stopped closing the gap. The man’s feet blurred. He was determined to catch and destroy the skinny kid just ahead in his light beam.
But Jonni’s speed increased even more. She powered up the climbing turn, maintaining a formidable, rhythmic, driving cadence.
Although I only had infrequent glimpses of her through the trees, Jonni was like a dark wind blowing through the black forest. There seemed no limits to her energy. She went faster and then faster still, pulling away from her pursuer the way the wind pulls away from an old man. In moments, she was 10 yards in front of him. Then 20. Then 30.
As the bike path crested the hill and the man’s energy flagged, Jonni seemed 50 yards distant, still accelerating, blowing her pursuer off as if he were a mere pretender. My last glance showed her flashing away into the blackness, far in front of his little blue light cone. It was as if she knew how to crush the monster’s spirit, and she was merciless in her domination of him.
CHAPTER FIFTY
I saw a cross street approaching, lit by a lone street light. I slowed the Jeep hard, then turned in and jerked to a stop.
I jumped out with Spot.
In the distance down the dark trail, I heard the dramatic wheezing of a man who had pushed himself too far and too hard. A man who thought he knew inline skates were no match for a bicycle. A muscular man who was a likely murderer.
Above the wheezing, I heard another sound from the opposite direction, perhaps along the trail where Jonni had disappeared at high speed on her rollerblades. I didn’t register the source of the sound or even the kind of sound. It was just one of those background sounds, a dull thumping in the distance, like what you’d expect if you dropped a log onto the soft duff of an undisturbed forest floor.
I ignored the sound and focused on my task, catching the killer who’d chased Jonni.
I took Spot’s collar, and we walked down the path in the dark.
The wheezing grew more intense. When we came to the man, he was standing bent over, his hands resting on his knees. His bicycle was on the ground to the side of the path. The blue light at his waist made a bright circle on the ground.
“You probably won’t underestimate Jonni Cooper again, huh, Lucas? Or are you using a different name today?”
“Go to hell,” the man said, no accent.
“No, that’s your destination. But first you get to enjoy the cou
rt system, and the media humiliation, followed by conviction on multiple counts of murder.”
“Wrong, tall boy.” the man pushed off his knees and stood up straight. He was still wheezing. He held his karambit knife up. It caught just a bit of the light clipped to his belt. The shiny blade gleamed in the night. He looked very threatening. But I saw his eyes staring at Spot.
I had Diamond’s backup gun in the holster on my ankle. But I pulled my Lowe’s sap out of my tool pocket.
“We can make this easy,” I said. “Toss the knife onto the ground. Then turn around, hands behind your back, crossed at the wrists.”
“You wish,” he said.
“Okay, you want to make this hard. My specialty. I see the blade,” I said. “The problem for you is that I come from one side and my hound comes from the other. You should know that we are both proficient at subduing idiots like you. So even if you are very fast and succeed in cutting one of us, we still get you. Last chance. Your choice. Live with the consequences.”
The man ignored me and came forward, holding the knife in his right fist.
“Spot, you remember our weapon hand training?” I touched Spot’s neck one more time, made my own growl, which usually is enough to get Spot growling. He gave it a good display, a full-throated roar, deep enough to shake the man’s chest. Spot lowered his head a bit and stepped toward the man, slowly, like a stalking predator. Spot lifted his lips far enough that his white fangs were visible in the dimmest of light.
I saw the man hesitate. No man is capable of not hesitating in that situation. But he didn’t hesitate enough.
Spot was approaching the man’s right side. I made a fast jump to my right, which was the man’s left side. He turned and swung the knife. Spot grabbed the man’s knife hand and, judging by the man’s scream, bit down hard.
I grabbed the man’s left hand.
Maybe I should have held it steady and called Spot off. But I was incensed that a psycho scumbag would chase and terrify and possibly kill a young kid.
So I pulled on the man’s arm, dragging him toward me. Which meant Spot felt the man was trying to get away. So Spot munched harder. I heard the snap of a breaking bone.
