25
The one-way street wasn’t crowded, but one car veered out of the way, the driver angrily blaring his horn.
“Lo siento,” Cruz muttered.
In his determination to catch up to Shanice and the kidnappers, he didn’t have time to obey traffic laws. He only hoped he could find them before it was too late.
Driving like a bat out of hell, Cruz swung his gaze left to right, trying to quell the surging panic that he might not reach Shanice in time. He pulled onto another street, only certain they would be headed far away from Pennsylvania Avenue, but not certain which direction to go in.
Ahí está!
The sedan was ahead of him, driving at a normal pace so they wouldn’t attract attention. They probably figured they were home free, too, but he had to stop them, and the only way he knew to do that meant risking harm to Shanice. Yet he had to take the chance.
Cruz rolled down the window. Pressing his foot on the gas, he came up behind the black sedan and took careful aim with the gun. His left hand wasn’t his dominant hand, but he had to try. He focused and then fired a shot. The left tire popped and the car swagged to the right.
That slowed them down, but now they knew he was behind them. Shanice and the two men in the back seat turned around. Even from that distance he saw the fear in her eyes.
The man on the right poked his head out the window, hands gripping a rifle. Cruz steered the vehicle to the left and ducked. The shot went wide, missing the Escalade.
The driver accelerated, but with one tire shredded, they couldn’t go very fast.
Cruz kept his eyes on the sedan. He wanted to take out the driver but couldn’t risk hitting Shanice. They weren’t exactly driving in a straight line.
The man on the left grabbed a handful of her hair and stuck the gun to her head. Cruz gripped the steering wheel with his empty hand. He’d get a lot of pleasure out of killing that guy. Gritting his teeth, he imagined putting a bullet in the man’s head and watching his blood leak down onto his blue shirt.
Shots hit the front grill of the Escalade, and Cruz swung to the left out of the line of fire. Then the gunman made a mistake. He sat on the edge of the open window, turning himself into an easy target even as he leveled the gun at Cruz. Cruz swung into the right lane, and as his opponent lined up a shot, so did he.
Cruz squeezed once and missed. The man fired and he ducked, the bullet blasting through the seat behind him. That was way too close for comfort.
When the gunman focused on his car tire, Cruz knew that it was now or never. He fired again, aiming for center mass, and hit the man’s shoulder. He grimaced and dropped the gun. Blood poured from the wound, and he moved to withdraw into the vehicle, but Cruz fired again, hitting him in the neck. His body slumped forward and fell out of the car.
Three bullets left.
“Come on, come on.”
Blue Shirt to the left of Shanice scooted over in the seat, about to do the same as his friend. He rolled down the window, and Cruz lined up the next shot. He hit the back right tire and it exploded. The car shimmied and rocked and the left tire came off completely. Sparks shot from the bald wheel before it broke off and rolled away. The car wobbled some more, dragging on the road’s surface until the driver rolled them to a stop on the side of the road.
Cruz slammed on the brakes. He didn’t bother with throwing the SUV in park. It slowly rolled away as he raced toward the car. He leaped onto the trunk and ran up on the roof. As the driver climbed out, Cruz put a bullet in his head before he could turn all the way around.
Hearing movement to his right, he swung in that direction, arms extended, gripping the Sig Sauer. Shanice and the last gunman were out of the car. His eyes widened when he recognized the other man’s face. Jacob, Randall Logan’s son. He had his arm around Shanice’s neck and the gun to her temple. Cruz loved that she was tall, but this was one time it worked against her because he couldn’t get a clear shot with Jacob hiding behind her.
“Drop the weapon or I’ll kill her,” he growled.
“You kill her, and the next gun that goes off is mine. You’ll get a bullet in the middle of your forehead.”
“You’re willing to risk her life?”
“You’re willing to risk yours?” Cruz hopped off the roof, keeping the gun extended. “You okay, mami?” he asked.
“I-I’m scared,” Shanice admitted.
“No need to be. I’m right here. Remember what I promised you?” His eyes flicked to hers briefly, and in that millisecond he saw naked terror. He would do whatever he could to make that expression go away.
“Y-yes. You said you wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”
“That’s right. I keep my promises.”
“Oh, isn’t this sweet?” Jacob gritted his teeth as he spoke, eyes locked on Cruz. He pushed the barrel of the gun hard against Shanice’s temple, and she winced and whimpered.
Cruz slowly circled them, his intention to get the other man’s back to the vehicle, boxing him in and blocking any possible escape route.
“Remember that other thing I told you?” Cruz asked. “That thing that never happens?”
She was quiet, and then she replied, “Y-yes.”
“You trust me, don’t you?”
“Yes.” That answer came out stronger and with more confidence.
“Good. Never, mami. Not once.” He only had one bullet and had to make it count.
Time slowed as he waited, tense, ready for the next move. Her eyes filled with tears, and then she did exactly what he expected her to.
She jerked her head to the left.
Not a second later, Cruz fired off a round before her captor had a chance to react. The 9mm projectile hit him in the right eye and he fell backward, his arm still locked around Shanice.
They tumbled to the ground with Jacob falling on top of her.
She screamed and then yelled, “Get him off me! Get him off me!”
Cruz rushed over and dragged him off her. Sobbing, Shanice fell into his arms and buried her face in his neck. He squeezed her tight, doing his best to wipe the blood spatter from her arm and the right side of her face.
His shoulder ached, his body was bruised, but Shanice was safe.
“You’re okay. You’re okay,” he whispered.
The sound of police sirens neared, and cruisers approached from opposite directions. One by one they stopped on squealing tires. Cruz and Shanice eased apart and squinted against the flashing lights as they were surrounded.
“Drop your weapon!” an officer yelled from behind his open car door.
All around them, police officers had their guns drawn. Six cruisers and twelve cops in all.
“Stay on your knees and don’t make any sudden moves,” Cruz whispered to Shanice.
Slowly, he placed his weapon on the ground and clasped his hands behind his head. Shanice followed suit.
He looked at her tear-streaked face, wishing he could pull her back into his arms and offer comfort. “It’s going to be okay,” he promised.
26
Shanice gingerly touched a hand to the tender spot beside her eyebrow. She had a headache and bruise from when Jacob had hit her after he and his accomplice yanked her from the SUV.
She could hear Miles and Cruz arguing behind the closed door. Either they didn’t know she could hear them, or they didn’t care. They’d been in there for ten minutes while she waited in the outer office.
The first five minutes she didn’t hear a word, but then Cruz raised his voice and Miles responded by matching his tone.
“Bull. Shit,” Cruz said.
“Shouldn’t you be thanking me?”
Shanice appreciated Miles, even if Cruz didn’t. She’d never been handcuffed before, and the police officers were none too gentle until two men, whom Cruz later explained had been sent by Miles, showed up at the police station as they were about to get booked. Cruz and Shanice were released within minutes.
“Thank you for what? I trusted you to get her here s
afely, and instead you almost got her killed!” Cruz yelled.
“I didn’t almost get her killed. Somehow the information got leaked.”
“On your watch. Who the hell leaked that we were coming, Miles?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m working on it.”
“You better damn well find out before I do.”
“Lucky for you they didn’t know who they were dealing with. They should have sent an army.”
“Remind me to punch you in the face when this is all over.”
Shanice couldn’t believe Cruz was speaking to a supervisor that way. Then again, maybe she could.
“I’ll be sure to do that,” Miles said.
The door was yanked open and both men came out, faces set in angry lines. Miles wore a tan suit, and Cruz still had blood smeared all over him from holding her. Since their arrival, she had gone to the restroom and washed her face and cleaned up her hair as much as she could. She washed the blood off her arm, but her clothes were still stained with the sticky red stuff, and she couldn’t wait to get naked and take a warm, cleansing shower.
Miles sat in the chair beside her, concern in his dark eyes. “How are you doing?” He was a good-looking man with dark skin, a full beard, and looked to be in his late thirties.
Before going into the office, Cruz had explained that Miles worked in a different building, but he’d arranged for the interview to take place at the U.S. Department of Justice because they would review the evidence and take over the investigation.
“I’ve been better,” Shanice answered.
At least she still had her sense of humor. Either that or she’d crack under the strain of the night’s events. Maybe she was getting stronger. Maybe she was in shock.
Miles smiled at her. “You’ve been through a lot, but the worst is over. Now we get to mete out justice. Here’s what’s going to happen. We’re going to interview you and Cruz and get as much information as we can while the details are fresh in your memory. That’s going to take several hours, and it’s already late. I know we’re asking a lot, but are you up to it?”
Shanice glanced at Cruz, who stood like a hulking sentinel standing guard over the conversation. She had no doubt if she said she wasn’t up to the interview, he’d whisk her out of there and there was nothing Miles or anyone else could do about it.
Returning her attention to Miles, she said, “I’m ready to do whatever it takes, even if it means staying here all night.”
A smile lit up Miles’s face. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. There’s one more thing you should know. I told Cruz that we can’t do anything about Senator Sandoval, but we can make sure we nail Logan.”
That part of the conversation must have taken place before they started yelling.
“Does that mean Senator Sandoval will get away with his involvement with Logan Investors?” Shanice asked.
“Assuming he’s privy to what took place, I’m afraid so. The truth is, we don’t have enough to pursue an investigation, and we think it’s best not to implicate him at all.”
Shanice didn’t like that resolution, and by the grim set to Cruz’s lips, he didn’t, either. But she had to believe that Miles and the Department of Justice knew what they were doing.
They left the office and went down a long hallway into a more opulent room that contained a gold and burgundy rug that covered most of the floor. Portraits of past Attorneys General hung on the wood-paneled walls, and the United States and the districts’ flags sat erect in front of a long conference table.
There were three other men in the room. One sat before a stenotype, while the other two were dressed in suits and stood when Shanice, Cruz, and Miles entered.
The older man with gray hair approached and extended his hand to Shanice. “Miss Lawrence, I’m U.S. Attorney General George Callahan. Your interview will be video recorded, and we’ll also have someone taking notes.”
Shanice nodded. “Okay.”
The other man extended his hand. “I’m Michael Monroe, with Senator Sandoval’s office. Because of the close relationship Senator Sandoval had with Dennis Ray, he wanted to be kept abreast of what happens here tonight. I’m only here to observe and report back to him.”
Shanice glanced at Cruz, whose right hand clenched at his side, but he said nothing.
“Nice to meet you,” Shanice said.
Both men reclaimed their seats. Shanice sat down and Cruz sat beside her. He took her hand under the table and squeezed. He didn’t look at her, but his touch made all the difference. She almost burst into tears at the gentle, comforting pressure. Having him by her side made her feel stronger and not so alone.
“Are you ready to get started?” Miles asked, seated across from them.
“Yes,” Shanice replied.
The other men nodded, and Miles pressed a button on a control box in the middle of the table. A flashing light caught her eye in the front wall. That’s when she noticed the video camera lens. The recording had started.
Miles began. “For the record, my name is Miles Garrison. The date and time is…”
In the backseat of a limousine provided by Miles, Shanice sat with her eyes closed, the back of her head resting against the seat. She no longer cared to see the sights. It was almost dawn and all she wanted was to crawl into bed and get a good night’s sleep. The way she felt—battered and weary—she was pretty sure she wouldn’t wake up until the next day.
They arrived at a hotel that would be a splurge if she were to pay for it herself. A chandelier sparkled in the ceiling, and white marble tile spanned from the reception desk to the carpeted sitting area.
A smiling female employee greeted them at the door. The statuesque woman wore a crisp blue uniform and her dark hair was pulled into a bun.
Shanice couldn’t help being a little jealous of her clean clothes and neat hair.
“Hello, I’m Stella. We have your rooms ready. Follow me, please.”
Shanice trudged behind the hotel employee with Cruz pulling up the rear. They rode the elevator in silence and exited on the fifth floor.
“Your rooms are next door to each other,” the woman explained.
She opened the first one, and Shanice entered. Her backpack was already in there, having been retrieved from the scene where the Suburban had been overturned. She thought about J.C. and Sam and the other men in the escort vehicle. Like Dennis, their lives had been taken to hide the misdeeds of an evil, greedy man.
“Is it to your liking?” Stella asked.
The tastefully decorated room was designed in creams and whites and contained a king bed with big fluffy pillows, a sofa, and a desk and chair.
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Sir, will you follow me please?”
“Good night, Cruz,” Shanice said.
He hesitated, eyes lingering on her. “Good night.”
Shanice closed the door and leaned against it.
They hadn’t said much since they left the Department of Justice, and she wondered what his plans were. If he didn’t leave the city right away, maybe they could have one more meal together before they went their separate ways.
With an aching heart, Shanice went into the bathroom. A humongous tub awaited her, as well as all manner of bath salts and bath gels. Everything she could want for a relaxing escape. But as much as she wanted to languish in a warm bath, she settled for a shower and washed her hair and face, wincing when she accidentally irritated the bruise on her temple.
She shoved her feet into slippers that matched the hotel robe and went into the bedroom. She double-checked that the door was locked and the safety latch was on. So much had happened in the past two days—had it really only been two days?—she didn’t know when she’d feel completely safe again.
She took an ibuprofen for her ever-present headache and removed a bottle of water and a small box of herb crackers from the mini fridge and settled on the bed. She should go to sleep, but her mind couldn’t rest. She couldn’t stop thinking about Cruz next door.
Was he asleep yet?
Her question was answered when a knock sounded on the door that connected her room to his. Shanice jumped up and unlocked it.
“Hola,” he said.
“Hola,” she said.
Cruz was barefoot and wearing one of the hotel robes, too. His face broke into a crooked smile that made her heart twist in her chest.
“Want some company?”
“I would love some company.”
They closed the door and without another word disrobed and climbed into the bed together, both of them naked. Under normal circumstances, she’d want to have sex, but her libido was hiding behind a curtain of weariness. Cruz must have been having the same experience, because he simply lay on his back and held her. It was the best feeling to simply lie next to him. That not-so-safe feeling disappeared in his strong arms.
“It’ll be daylight soon,” he remarked.
“Yeah.” Shanice trailed a finger down his left pec.
“The DOJ is sending investigators after Logan and the police officers. Miles is confident the officers will implicate Logan as soon as they find out he’s been knocking them off to cover his tracks.”
“He did that because of what Dennis discovered,” she said.
“Yes. Tying up loose ends, so to speak.”
“Do you really think Senator Sandoval is involved?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think he’ll get away with it?”
“He already has.”
His answer saddened her. “He’ll never see justice.”
“Sometimes justice doesn’t come through normal channels.”
It was probably better she didn’t know what he meant by that.
“When do you leave?” Shanice asked. The question caused a strain on her heart.
“I’m not sure. I don’t have any pressing engagements right now. You?”
“I don’t know. But when I do, I want to go somewhere quiet and peaceful, I guess.”
Until Now (Plan B Book 1) Page 15
