Justice at Dawn

by Valerie Massey Goree

  Travis thrashed against the bunk beds which in turn smacked the wall.

  She glared at him.

  Before Vicky could interpret the commotion as a problem, Coop said, “Hello, Vicky.” He aimed the rifle. “Hands up and turn around.”

  KC opened the door in time to see Vicky’s incredulous expression before she obeyed.

  “Walk slowly toward me. Then sit here.” He shoved a dining chair in her direction.

  Vicky didn’t move.

  Doubtful of her ability to remain upright long, KC stood a safe distance behind Vicky to prevent her from entering the bedroom. “Neither of us is in any frame of mind to be gentle or kind. So do what he says. Now.” Who was this authoritative, in control woman? Moments ago, she’d left the bedroom, arm throbbing, and hand jittery. KC pursed her lips and cocked an eyebrow.

  Coop’s gaze shifted to her for a second, and he smiled.

  With a resigned sigh, Vicky plopped into the chair.

  Coop kept the weapon trained on her, approached KC, and whispered, “Partner, we’re out of rope and extension cords. Any idea how we can immobilize Vicky?”

  “Use wide strips of sheet. You didn’t use all the bedding for my wounds.” KC sat on the sofa and balanced her wrist on her knee. She willed her hand still and aimed the pistol at Vicky.

  Instead of thumping her shoulder—which she dreaded—Coop rubbed her head. “That’s what I love about you, rookie. You always come up with a solution.” He entered the bedroom and turned on the light.

  A head-rub? Love? What had gotten into Coop? Answering that question required too much thought. KC melted into the sofa and focused on Vicky’s words. Sadie escaped. But would she be able to make it to civilization and notify the authorities? KC blew out a deep breath. Rescue needed to come soon. Her physical condition seemed to deteriorate by the second. A return of cancer no longer consumed her thoughts, but the damage to her left arm and shoulder, and a persistent headache were her immediate concerns.

  Vicky crossed her legs.

  KC flinched. No matter her aches and pains, she would not be caught off-guard and stroked the trigger with her finger. “How did Sadie get away?”

  “You’ll get nothing from me. Are Irene and Travis in the bedroom?”

  “I’ll give you two guesses.”

  The continued sound of ripping fabric accompanied Travis’s bumping against the bed frame.

  “I suppose you think you’re in control.” Vicky crossed her arms.

  Coop entered holding a pile of white strips. “We don’t think so.”

  Vicky’s smirk lasted three seconds before it morphed into panic. She swallowed.

  “We know we are. Once Sadie reaches a phone and notifies the cops, the three of you will be arrested.” He stood behind her chair and dumped the fabric onto the sofa. “Keep watch, KC. I remember my last encounter with her.”

  “My pleasure.”

  First, he bound Vicky’s hands together. Then he wrapped the makeshift tether around her torso, securing her to the chair. He stooped and reached for Vicky’s ankle.

  She kicked out, catching him on his knee.

  Coop almost collapsed but clenched his teeth and steadied himself by holding onto the sofa arm.

  Don’t hurt my Coop. KC pointed the pistol at Vicky’s head and fired.

  The bullet ripped into the wall behind her.

  Vicky ducked and cried out.

  The crack of the shot echoed in the small room.

  Jaw muscles tense and eyes squinted, KC’s gaze never left the woman’s ashen face. “Do that again, and I’ll adjust my aim.”

  “My partner is an award-winning sharp-shooter. Listen to her if you want to see the sunrise.” Coop easily completed his task.

  For some odd reason, Travis also quit his noise-making activities in the bedroom.

  Coop joined KC on the sofa. “Vicky, remember what it felt like when that bullet whizzed by your head? Now, answer some questions. When did Sadie get away?”

  Waving the pistol in a haphazard manner, KC grinned.

  “Um, more than an hour ago. It took time to find the other bike only to discover someone had cut the rope bridge. The cabins are a long way from the road, you know.” She couldn’t seem to talk fast enough.

  “Were Sadie or the kids drugged again?” KC asked.

  Vicky shook her head.

  On foot, carrying a baby, and holding Hannah’s hand, probably without a flashlight, it would take Sadie at least an hour and a half to walk three miles to the highway, and then she had to hitch a ride. KC checked Coop’s watch still around her wrist. Five thirty. By her calculations, Sadie hadn’t reached the highway yet. They had a while to wait for the cops. Please, dear God, keep Sadie safe as she seeks help.

  Coop drew near to her ear. “We’ll be here at least another hour or two.” Apparently, he’d also computed the data. “But if help doesn’t arrive by dawn, I’ll ride the bike to the highway. It’ll be difficult, but I’ll manage.”

  “Better than I could.” She had performed a stunt once when she rode a bike single-handed and blindfolded, but then she’d been healthy. That life seemed so long ago.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not be in the same room as these people.” Coop eased off the sofa. “I’ll move Vicky to the kitchen.”

  “Fine by me.” Lowering the weapon, KC said to Vicky, “See the wagon wheel? I hit the chain from thirty yards.” Probably not thirty, but who’s counting? “No matter where he puts you, I can get close enough to remove that mole on your cheek.”

  Bug-eyed and mouth agape, Vicky shrank down in the chair. “I won’t say a word. I won’t budge. Promise.” She stared at KC while Coop dragged her behind the counter.

  “What about the other two?”

  “They’re fine where they are. There’s no way they can get loose. I guess I could take off their gags, if they promise to give us peace and quiet.” Thumbs in his belt loops, Coop stood by the bedroom door.

  “Wait. I have a question for Irene.” KC stood, gained her balance, and then squeezed past Coop. She removed Irene’s soggy gag. “Where is the money? Can you at least assuage my curiosity? I’m sure your sister and nephew also want to know.”

  The woman hesitated.

  KC wagged the pistol under her nose. “Vicky can testify to my accuracy.”

  “OK, you win. I buried the stash under the flowerpot to the left of the front steps.”

  Travis groaned, and KC slid his gag past his chin. He licked his lips. “No fair. Vicky said it was under the cabin. I did all that digging for nothing.”

  “How was I to know she buried it outside? She said she stashed the bag under the floor,” Vicky responded from the kitchen.

  “She’s your sister. You could have made her tell.”

  “It’s not your money, kid,” Irene added. “You were never included in our plan.”

  “But Aunty Vicky, you promised if I helped—”

  “Oh, grow up, Travis. Your precious Aunt Vicky was using you.”

  Travis grunted.

  “Half of the cache is mine, Sis.” Vicky’s tone gained in intensity.

  A big sigh from Irene. “Do you remember signing any document to that effect? I don’t.”

  “But we agreed to share the money.” Vicky thumped her feet on the floor. “It was my connection to my former boss, Duke Levasseur, that enabled us to blackmail all those snooty businessmen.”

  “Look around, Victoria. Do you see any way of getting out of here?” Irene rolled her eyes. “Why don’t you give these IRO agents all our secrets while you’re at it.”

  As if watching a tennis match, KC’s and Coop’s heads swiveled from the bedroom toward the kitchen and back.

  “Enough.” Coop covered his ears. “Put their gags back on, KC, while I make one for Vicky.”

  When the three were silenced, at least as far as words were concerned, KC and Coop dropped to the sofa.

  “At last, some time to reflect.” That was not the exact term K
C meant, but close enough. She needed to hear Coop’s suggestions for her future. But a sudden inertia overtook her. She blinked to clear her fuzzy vision, drew in deep breaths to power her thoughts. All to no avail. She collapsed against the sofa cushions. Would she survive long enough to see their captives arrested?

  Beside her, Coop sat with arms folded and eyelids fluttering. His breathing rhythm indicated he was falling asleep. Perhaps her lethargy was not a sign of her imminent demise but of exhaustion. Their discussion could wait. She closed her eyes, and whether on purpose or by the force of gravity, her head slid sideways until it rested on Coop’s broad shoulder.

  47

  A faint but familiar scent of orange and vanilla tickled Cooper’s nose. He stirred and then held still. KC rested on his shoulder. Aah. If only they could remain this way for hours.

  No sound from Travis or his aunts. Good.

  Before they were rescued or he biked for help, Cooper had immediate plans that required a modicum of personal hygiene. He gently moved KC’s head to the side and slid off the sofa. She remained asleep despite his grunts and shuffling steps.

  He glanced into the kitchen. Vicky appeared to be sleeping, as were Irene and Travis when he checked their bonds. When they awoke, he’d allow them to take individual breaks.

  The medicine cabinet in the bathroom contained a packet of disposable razors and a can of deodorant. Yes. He used a sliver of soap from the shower to shave.

  Ten minutes later, he returned to the living room, if not a new man, at least a clean-shaven one. He covered KC with a blanket and settled beside her, content to let her sleep. Due to her vulnerable medical condition his concern to keep her comfortable outweighed any sympathy he felt for Irene and company.

  KC jerked awake and stared at him. “Oh, it’s you. I had a dream…”

  “About what?”

  A rosy tint infused her cheeks. “Never mind.”

  “Our three guests are asleep, and I’d like them to stay that way. Let’s be as quiet as possible. Are you hungry, thirsty?”

  “Both.” She stretched and yawned. “Great galloping goats, but I’m tired.”

  “Understandable. I’ll see what gourmet meal I can whip up.” Avoiding the broken wagon wheel, Cooper made his way to the kitchen, and moved Vicky’s chair to the side. She groaned but didn’t wake.

  “You shaved,” KC said. “Guess I should clean up, too.”

  “Do you need any help?”

  She glared at him.

  “I mean, help getting up, not help in the bathroom. But be careful of the mess Travis made of the floor.” Her hot gaze burned a hole through him. “I’ll hush now.”

  “Not a moment too soon.”

  He turned to the sink so she wouldn’t see his smile. A cool breeze wafted through the shattered window and tickled his face. The fourth cabinet he checked produced a jar of instant coffee and a half-full box of cereal. He boiled water on the stove, poured cereal into two of the five bowls he’d set on the counter, and then hesitated. The captives would have to wait until he could monitor them.

  The milk carton from the refrigerator held about a teaspoonful. No problem. Black coffee, dry cereal. What more could a guy provide on a first date. He grinned as he set the dishes on a plastic tray, hobbled to the sofa, and then balanced the tray on the small side table.

  KC emerged, face shining, and maybe not smiling, but at least she didn’t pierce him with a scowl.

  “Come, sit. It’s not much, but the coffee’s hot. It won’t taste like brewed, but the aroma is enough for me.”

  “Thanks. It does smell inviting.” She sipped from the mug then picked up her spoon. “Sorry.” She grimaced and placed the utensil next to the bowl. “My stomach doesn’t hurt much anymore, but the thought of food makes me queasy. I have a slight fever, my shoulder’s throbbing and my headache’s back.”

  He munched on the sweet squares of wheat and washed them down with the bitter coffee. “I wish I could do more to alleviate your discomfort. We won’t have long to wait. I’m sure you’ll be in a hospital in no time. Your problem could be infection, side effects of a concussion, or appendicitis. Wouldn’t it be funny, rather, ironic, if it was your gallbladder?”

  Nodding slowly, she handed the mug to him. “Ha ha. That’s all I can drink for now. I had my appendix taken out when I was twelve, so it might be my gallbladder.” She squeezed the bridge of her nose. “But I think it’s stress combined with the concussion. I need to lie down.”

  “Earlier, you slept on my shoulder. I won’t mind being your pillow again.” He quickly set his bowl and mug on the tray and leaned back.

  “OK.” She settled next to him and drew the blanket over her body. “I’m not going to sleep. I want to hear about your plans for my future.”

  “Are you sure? We can wait until you receive medical treatment.”

  “Tell me while I still have the energy to listen.”

  Perfect introduction. Should he face her or not? No, better to focus on the hole in the floor. He cleared his throat. “KC, rookie, and friend, I hope.”

  She didn’t respond, which he took as a positive sign.

  “I’ll get straight to the point. We’ve worked together now for five, six weeks, and I think…no, I’ll rephrase that. I’m falling in love with you.”

  Still no reaction. Had she heard him?

  “KC?” This time he faced her.

  She blinked then her eyes grew as wide as their cereal bowls. “You can’t be serious.”

  “I am. I don’t know when it happened, but I want you in my life, whether you’re an agent or not.” He took her hand.

  She squeezed his fingers. Another good sign.

  Her face seemed to glow. Then she withdrew, first her hand, then her body. The space between them widened. “I can’t deal with this now, Coop. I don’t have time to love anyone. I have plans which don’t include a man.”

  He expected words to that effect, but his heart still sank. Slow down. “I remember what you said when you found out about your birth mom. But here’s where my suggestions come to play. Will you listen, please?” Wait for her to choose.

  A minute trickled by. “All right.”

  His pulse quickened. “You can work toward another degree. You can help the kids at a center like Riverview. But you can also be a wife. And a mother.” She needs more time.

  She leaned into him, and her body shook.

  Let her weep and process. The warmth of her body filtered through him, igniting long-cold corners of his heart. He’d hold her forever, if she’d allow him.

  When she let out a ragged breath, he rested his palm against her cheek. “I understand your concerns, I think, but why not let your future husband in on the decisions that will affect your life?” Had he been too forceful? He waited for another of those little nudges that had prompted him to speak or be silent. None came. He was on his own. Go for it.

  “I love you KC and want you to be my wife. Will you marry me?”

  48

  Pale pink streaks kissed the sky that KC could see through the living room window. Dawn was on the horizon. Could justice be far behind? And Coop. How could she deal with his proposal when her body ached from head to toe, and her heart was ready to burst?

  Nestled beside him, his arm around her, she swiped at her moist cheeks. He needed an answer, but she delayed her response as long as possible. She had no desire to hurt his feelings, but… “Sorry, Coop. I can’t saddle you with my medical issues, present and future. Besides, how can you love me when you know I might die soon?” Melodramatic? Maybe, but causing Coop pain lay heavy on her conscience. Again, she waited. Any other time he’d have blurted out a reply by now. Come on, say something, Coop. She pulled away. “Well?”

  He removed his arm. “I understand what you’re saying, however, I don’t agree with your logic. What if I’d known Angela would die six years after we married? Would I have married her? You bet. What guarantee do you or I have that I’ll outlive you? None. I remember a verse the pa
stor stressed at Angela’s and our baby’s funeral. It was from Ecclesiastes. Something about no one knows when his hour will come.”

  Now it was her turn to be silent. In a distant corner of the universe, his argument made sense, but she wasn’t convinced yet. She needed here and now evidence. “It wouldn’t be fair for you to bury a second wife.”

  Jaw set, he faced her, a hand on her good shoulder. His gaze swept over her face with such force, heat rose up her neck into her cheeks. “Why don’t you let me worry about that. I want you in my life for however long we have on this earth. I’ll cherish you until, well, until death parts us. Yours or mine. I’m not Kevin. I won’t abandon you at the first sign of a problem.”

  She lowered her head. The pleading in his eyes, the warmth of his hand, and the ferocity of his stare were too much. Could she accept Coop’s reassurance that he’d stay with her forever, that it didn’t matter to him that she might have a relapse? Their recent predicament had proven that either or both of their lives could be taken in a second. But they had survived. Was she ready to face life with a partner, a man she loved? And, oh, how she loved him. She’d prayed for guidance to make the right decisions, for a sign. Was Coop’s proposal God’s answer for her future?

  In the stillness of early dawn, he massaged her shoulder as if he had all the time in the world. Was any couple guaranteed a set amount of time together? Of course not.

  She wrestled with her head telling her to say no, while her heart screamed yes. In the time it took for a star to twinkle, her head and heart aligned. “Coop—”

  Was her heart vibrating?

  Coop released her and patted his pocket.

  “It’s my phone.” He pulled it out and checked the screen. “An unknown number, but it could be Sadie. Hello.” A grin spread across his face. “Sadie. Praise God. I’ll put you on speaker so KC can hear.” He touched the screen and held the phone between them.

  “Hey, you two. I have news.” Sadie sounded tired but jubilant.

  KC looked toward the ceiling. “Father God, thank You for answered prayers.” She returned her gaze to the phone. “Sadie. So good to hear your voice. Are the kids all right?”