Maliki (Guardian Defenders Book 2)

by Kris Michaels

  "Hopson."

  "Carter, its Doctor Blue. Have you seen Poet?"

  "No, not today. I got a text from her about seven this morning. She said she was going to Ohio. Her mom was sick. She didn't tell you?"

  "No. Ohio? Her mom and dad moved to Florida some years ago. No. Carter, her apartment has been trashed. There's blood in the living room."

  "Holy shit. I'm on the way."

  The line went dead. He called Asher and relayed the information.

  "Fuck, okay, we're en route. We're on the other side of the county. Don't let the locals process the crime scene. Don't disturb anything."

  "Understood."

  He carefully made his way from the apartment. Tillie stood in the hall. "She's going to be okay, right? Poet's going to be okay?"

  He dropped his arm around her and folded her into a hug, not answering her, because he didn’t know. Questions spun through his mind, but one stuck. Who the hell would know that her parents lived in Ohio, but wouldn't know they'd moved to Florida? An acquaintance, a coworker... her boss.

  Two deputies he'd seen before but couldn't remember names of emerged from the stairwell. "I've cleared the apartment. Guardian is en route as is Deputy Hopson."

  "Is Poet..." The man's question trailed off.

  "She's not in there. There's a small amount of blood. There was a fight. By the looks of the room, one hell of a fight. Tillie, what time did you hear the noise this morning?"

  "Oh... it was five… a little after five."

  Carter Hopson threw the stairwell door open and entered the hallway at a jog. "Hannaford, Mellette, our job is to secure the scene. Her vehicle isn't here. Hannaford, you stay on that apartment door. Only Guardian goes in or out. Mellette, we need to find her vehicle. Miss, are you a witness?"

  "I heard a disturbance this morning. I thought it... I didn't think she was being attacked."

  "No problem. I'll take your statement." He looked up at Maliki. "You need me?"

  Maliki shook his head. "No, I know what to do." He turned and headed toward the stairwell.

  "Doctor Blue?" He looked over his shoulder. Carter stared at him. "Find her."

  "I guaren-fucking-tee it." His phone was in his hand before he hit the first step.

  "And here I thought we'd stopped these hen parties."

  "Someone has taken Poet."

  "Whoa. Hold on. Poet? The deputy?"

  "Yes."

  He heard Joseph's muffled voice and then the sound of a door closing. "Details. Now."

  Maliki gave him a run down. "I need a location on Sheriff Watson."

  "Why do you think it was the sheriff?"

  "Because whoever it was knew her parents lived in Ohio but wasn't close enough to her to get the intel that they'd moved."

  "That's thin." Joseph growled in response.

  "I know. Have you been briefed on the cases here, the ones Asher took over?"

  "No and that was because I was told you were out of it. I'll pass on your concerns to Jared, but you need to stand down."

  "The fuck I will." Before he left Poet to the bastard who had her, Maliki would slit the throat of Hades himself, remove the Prince of Hell’s beating heart, and eat it.

  "What's your damage, man? The investigators assigned can handle this."

  "Would you sit on your ass if Ember was the one taken?"

  "Ember? Oh, fuck. Son of a bitch. Motherfucker. You fucking fell for the damn local yokel."

  He ground his teeth together and seethed, "Watch yourself."

  "Yeah, yeah. Got it." Joseph drew a big breath and released it. "Damn it, Blue, you’re a pain in my ass."

  "I need a location on that sheriff."

  "Why have you zeroed on that dick? It could be any of her coworkers or anyone else she knows."

  "My gut says if that bastard isn't involved, he knows who is."

  "Fuck. Stay by your phone."

  Mal headed to his SUV and opened the back hatch. He retrieved an M4, loaded it, and placed it in the rack built into the passenger side seating area. Velcro straps tightened a bulletproof vest around his chest. He filled his pockets with zip ties, extra ammo for both weapons, and snatched a taser and pepper spray, clipping both to his belt. He found a medical kit. The tabs attached to the vest and secured in a second. The lid of the armory was once again locked down, and he jumped into the driver's seat of the SUV. He had no idea which way to drive so he sat and waited... and prayed.

  He focused on the clock and watched the minutes change. Minute after minute, the blue digital display grew, and his feeling of inadequacy mounted in exact proportion to the passing of time. He should be doing something.

  His phone vibrated. "Blue."

  "Mal, this is Jewell. James Watson has a residence in Paintsville. I'll text the address."

  "I can't see him taking Poet there, Jewell. This is a small town. People notice shit. She wouldn't go willingly, and if she wasn't willing, she could be unconscious or..."

  "We aren't going to go there yet. Tell me more. Her apartment was broken into. There was a struggle. What else?"

  He took a breath. "Her vehicle is missing, too."

  "Vehicle? What kind?"

  "SUV, patrol vehicle. Newer model."

  "Hold on. I'm accessing the Pleasant County data base. I need to bypass the firewall and disable the... yeah, here it is. A list of county assets, buildings, vehicles, no... bulldozers, graters... here… normal vehicles. I'm scrolling... there, SUVs. Okay, snagging these and accessing the sheriff’s office computer system. Standby, this won't take long. I've been in their system before. Come on, come on... good, let me in and… perfect. I'm in. Now, files... personnel, payroll, disciplinary actions, assets. Good, okay, yep here we go. Vehicle maintenance... and assignments. Got it. Hang on. There. Okay. I have the VIN number. I'm going to request the manufacturer enable the vehicle's tracking software. It will take a couple minutes." He could hear her fingers flying across the keyboard as she spoke.

  "While that's working, let's see what is in Mr. Watson's background."

  "I thought you couldn't run him unless we could tie him to a crime with solid evidence?"

  Jewell snorted. "You can't. I can. I have an operative telling me he believes this man is involved in a felony and the life of a law enforcement officer is in jeopardy. That, my friend, is probable cause." He could hear her fingers tapping. "Okay, I got notification that the manufacturer is flipping the switches. It will take a moment to acquire."

  "Do you know Watson's mother and father's names?"

  Maliki blinked. "Ah, no."

  "That's okay, I'll get it. There it is. Okay, I'm sending a pin to your phone. The vehicle is stationary about fifteen miles to your west on County Road 1837."

  Maliki put the vehicle in gear and tore from the parking lot. "Tell me if it moves."

  "I will. While you're driving, I'm pulling this guy's past apart. Damn, sucks about his folks." She tsked a bit and then got quiet. The only thing he heard was periodic staccato sprints of typing. "All right. I've reached Jared. He's sending his people to the sheriff's primary residence. They are inclined to believe the sheriff may be involved, based on telephone records my people have requested."

  "I'm coming up on the vehicle."

  Jewell made a sound, acknowledging him before she added, "I have state police responding. They were closest."

  "I don't see anyone in the vehicle. Standby while I clear it." He slammed his foot on the brake and slid to a stop on the blacktop. With his automatic in his hand, he jogged to the SUV. A quick look through the windows proved it was vacant. The driver's side door wasn't shut all the way and the passenger side door was likewise open. A small amount of blood was smeared on the passenger headrest and center console of the vehicle.

  He jogged back to the Guardian SUV and spoke to Jewell. "There’s nothing except small amounts of blood in the interior. He must have transferred her from that vehicle to another."

  "He has two personal vehicles registered to him. A car an
d a truck. I'll get a bulletin released on both of them."

  "What now?"

  "Now you head east."

  He put the truck in gear and after ensuring the road was clear, made a U-turn. "Where am I going?"

  "To a property that is still in his mother's name. Hold on. Tax records show it has been improved and has a residence."

  "Does it have power?"

  "Damn good question. Let me check."

  "How far on this road?"

  "Ah... keep going past the town. I'm looking for utilities." Strangely her familiar tempo of start-and-stop typing comforted him.

  He drove past the town and continued on.

  "There. Yes. Electricity and water. Where are you?" Her phone rang in the background. "Standby Mal."

  He kept driving, staring at every turn off as if he could see back to the properties. Fuck, he was going insane.

  "Sorry about that. Jared decided to yell at me for helping you. Evidently his people found nothing at the primary residence and want in on the chase."

  "Give me the address and you can bow out."

  "Fuck that. I gave him the address and patched Jared through to Jason. Let them duke it out. Okay, I've got your SUV on my screen. Three miles up on the left, there is a two-lane road. Take that."

  Mal followed her direction and turned on the road. "Ten miles up. The property is on the left. I don't have current satellite coverage so I can't watch real time or tell you if there are any vehicles at the property."

  "I'll stop short and work my way in. I don't want to alert him that I'm coming."

  "Do you have comms?"

  "What?"

  "An earpiece paired to your phone?"

  "No."

  "Dude, damn it. Okay, well, put your phone in your pocket, but mute me. If there is anything emergent, I'll text you and it will vibrate. Understand?"

  He pulled over and carefully maneuvered the SUV off the road. "How many of these operations have you run?"

  "Me? None. I'm the geek behind the keyboard. Do as I say. Remember to use your training, Mal, and I don't mean the one where you apply bandages to boo-boos. You are going in alone. You have backup en route. Waiting for them might be the right choice."

  "I'll make that call when I get into position."

  "Good luck."

  Mal muted the phone and pocketed it. The damn thing was already on vibrate. He unclipped the M4 from the rack and slung it on his back for rapid travel. With silent deliberation he closed the vehicle door and locked it with a key, not risking the remote chirping. Not far from the edge of the road, the earth sunk under his feet and he buried to his knees in mud. "Damn it." He pulled himself from the boggy area and adjusted his gear. He got his bearings and started to jog, his eyes and ears alert for movement in the trees.

  Chapter 17

  Poet's stomach lurched, and she dry heaved. Again. Her head throbbed and her vision blurred. She curled in on herself. The cold tile under her was hard and unforgiving. She blinked and tried to sit up only to collapse on the floor again.

  Pain gouged white trenches across the darkness of her closed eyes as the sole of a boot smashed against her back, catching her under her shoulder blade. She curled tighter, trying to move away from the pain.

  A knee dropped on her and her arm was wrenched backward. Cold steel circled her wrist and she was dragged across the floor by her arm. He lifted her by her arm, nearly dislocating her shoulder. She scrambled to her knees and heard the other cuff snap lock against something. The sound of heavy footsteps diminished. She panted, trying to force air into her lungs. She opened one eye a fraction of an inch and blinked several times. She closed her eyes and swallowed back another wave of nausea before she opened both eyes. A camera. Video camera.

  She opened her eyes again. She couldn't see behind the camera. That side of the room was dark.

  "What did you tell Guardian?"

  She startled at the words. They were the first he'd spoken since she opened the door this morning. His voice was higher, more nasal than usual. "I didn't."

  "Liar." The emotionless word hung for a moment and then she heard him walking back toward her. He crouched down in front of her and gripped her chin in a crushing hold. The black mask couldn't conceal his identity from her. She recognized Jim's eyes. "I’m going to beat you until you die. It is going to take days and days and days." He stroked her hair gently while holding her chin so tight he could fracture her jaw.

  Between her clenched teeth, she ground her reply, "Why did you kill them?"

  He started to chuckle, released her, and then stood. An eerily high-pitched laugh echoed in the small room. "This isn't a TV drama. I'm not confessing my sins so your knight in shining armor can ride in and rescue you."

  "Do you record all the deaths?"

  He turned his head to the camera and waved at the lens. "I'm not recording. I'm broadcasting. No audio. They don't pay for audio."

  "Pay?"

  That eerie laugh again. "To watch women die. There's a lucrative market."

  "Please, you don't have to do this!"

  He walked back toward the darker side of the room, his back to her. "Oh, but I do."

  "Why?" She tugged on the handcuff and the bar it was clamped to. It moved a little.

  "Simple. I want to." He moved further away.

  Oh God. She shoved her shoulder under the bar and pressed up with her legs. The pipe shifted about a half inch. She arched and screamed as her body jolted and convulsed under a current of electricity until the world went blank.

  Gentle slaps on her cheeks roused her from unconsciousness.

  "Wakey, wakey, Deputy. No escape for you. My ratings would take a hit if you escaped. Did you enjoy the taser? I would rather drive my fist into your face, but I suspect you have a concussion, and I need you conscious. They like the fear, the suffering. I'll avoid your head until I'm ready to kill you."

  She moaned and tried to move. It was useless. She lifted her head and tried to clear her vision. Her arms and legs were tied to boards bolted against the wall.

  She panted back the nausea lifting her head caused. "They'll know it’s you."

  He shook his head. "How? There's no evidence to tie me to any of those women."

  She winced as he approached her with a metal police baton. "What appendage should we break first?" He tapped her right arm, then her left before he turned away. She swallowed hard to try to combat the nausea and was unprepared for his spinning slash of the metal rod. The rod crashed into her right forearm. She screamed; the pain shot up her arm to her shoulder and down to her hand. The door on the far side of the room burst open. Darkness tunneled her vision as she watched Jim lunging forward. She welcomed the oblivion.

  "Poet, God, please, wake up." She moaned and curled in on herself. Free. She wasn't bound, and boards wrapped her arm. A splint. She opened her eyes. Jim hovered over her and she jerked back.

  "No, no, it’s okay. I have to get you out of here."

  She pushed further away from him. A terror filled scream stuck in her throat and she croaked, "No!"

  "I have to get you out of here before he wakes up!"

  "He?" She pushed back, hit the wall, and lifted slightly. She looked around wildly. The man with the hood lay on the ground, not moving. "Who is he?"

  "I'll tell you, but I have to get you out of here before he wakes up. Come on!" He lifted her good arm around his neck and helped her stand. "You have to walk; I need to be able to get to my gun if I need it."

  She leaned heavily into him and stared at the man on the floor as they passed.

  "Up the stairs. Come on, one foot in front of the other. That's right."

  She gagged as they passed through a small kitchen and then an empty room before they emerged outside. The sunlight blinded her. "I can't open my eyes."

  "Keep them closed then. Keep putting one foot in front of the other. I parked on the main road."

  The distinct sound of a round being chambered in a gun stopped both of them. "Stop where you are
."

  At the sound of Maliki’s voice, she crumbled to the ground, sobbing.

  Mal watched Poet collapse. Her face was devoid of color and she’d been beaten. Some sort of ad hoc splint supported her right forearm. She wore one of his t-shirts and a pair of shorts.

  "Whoa, Doctor Blue, this is not what you think it is." Jim Watson raised both hands straight into the air. "I rescued her. Got her away from that mad man."

  Maliki moved forward, his .45 aimed directly at the bastard's chest. "Back off! Hands behind your head! Move away from her, now! Jewell, get the rest of them out here, now. I have the sheriff. If he moves, he's dead. I need an ambulance."

  "Who are you talking to? Never mind, he's going to come to any minute. We need to get her to safety." The sheriff’s question turned into a shouted demand.

  "Shut up! Back off. Further." He watched the bastard back up, his fingers linked behind his head.

  Watson kept glancing to the small house and shaking his head. "Man, I don't know if he has any guns. You really need to get her the hell out of here."

  "Get on your knees." He barked the command and watched the bastard drop. He followed the man and slowly sank to his knees beside Poet. "You're going to be okay, sweetheart. Did he rescue you?"

  She folded against him and whispered through her tears. "I don't know. I... I don't know. There's another man, downstairs."

  His phone vibrated in his pocket. "Kind of busy here, Jewell. Can it wait?" His gun remained pointed at the sheriff. “One buzz for yes, more for no." He stood and moved to put himself between Watson and Poet. His shirt pocket lit up with multiple vibrations. He reached in his pocket, his eyes boring a hole through Watson, and unmuted the call. "Go ahead."

  "There is a live stream coming from an IP address at that location. There is no movement, it looks like a basement. I heard him try to divide your concentration."

  Mal narrowed his eyes and sneered at Watson. "Believe me, he has my full attention. He so much as flinches and he has a .45 hole through his heart."

  "Keep an eye on the feed, how far is backup?"

  "Three minutes."

  "Roger." He dropped the unmuted phone into his shirt pocket. The faint shrill of sirens heralded closer.