by Dana Mentink
Randall was getting more and more desperate to complete his mission.
And they had to stop him before he made Penny pay the ultimate price.
NINE
Penny finished her report that afternoon in spite of the anxiety crawling up her spine. Tyler stood a few feet behind her, arms folded, staring at a spot on the wall. It was all she could do not to plead with him to take a coffee break or go for a run. Anything to relieve his brooding silence. Tyler had curtly informed her that Randall had abandoned his apartment, but her instincts told her he’d left something behind, something that was too terrible for them to reveal. Whatever he and Bradley had found, neither of them intended to share it with her. What could have been so awful? Goose bumps marched up her arms.
Don’t let your mind go there.
She would have preferred to stay later than four o’clock to finish a few lingering tasks and shave a couple of hours off her mind-numbing hotel time, but Tyler was clearly itching to take her home. Perhaps he was looking forward to having his babysitting duties over for the day so he could return to his investigation work. She sighed, considering the long evening ahead with Vivienne. It was probably hard for Vivienne, too, since she no doubt would rather be spending time with Caleb, discussing wedding details.
As she gathered her purse and a box of materials she wanted to organize for the open house, the office phone rang. It was not in her nature to allow a call to go to voice mail when it would likely only take a few seconds to answer and forward to the correct party. Penny picked up the receiver. “Brooklyn K-9 Unit. How can I help you?”
“I know where you can find Ivan Holland.”
She jerked. Ivan Holland? The gunrunner who had tried repeatedly to kill Officer Noelle Orton and her K-9 partner, Liberty? Holland had put a bounty on Liberty’s head after they’d foiled two smuggling operations at Atlantic Terminal and he’d made good on his threats to enact revenge. Holland was an ax hanging over Noelle and Liberty’s head.
Stomach tight, she gestured to Tyler, who was at her side in three strides. “Who is this, please?” she said. She was afraid putting him on speakerphone might cause him to hang up, so instead she held the receiver between them so Tyler could hear.
“Never mind who I am. Ivan Holland is the guy who tried to kill your police dog. He put a ten-thousand-dollar bounty on that mutt’s head, right? You want him or not?”
She tried to ignore the feeling of Tyler’s muscled shoulder against her arm as he craned to see the number and wrote it on a notepad. He signaled for her to keep the conversation going.
“So you have information about Ivan Holland’s whereabouts?” A rumbling screech sounded in the background. “It would help if you would give your name, sir. Then I can route you to the appropriate person to handle your information.”
“You don’t need to know my name. Ivan’s time is over. We’re not working for him anymore.”
“Sir, if you’d just—” Penny began.
“I’m tellin’ you where you can find Ivan right now. He’s—” The caller stopped talking abruptly.
Penny gripped the phone. “Are you there, sir?”
“I have to go.”
The phone went dead.
Tyler was already dialing the number he’d written down. Penny could hear the phone ringing endlessly, but it did not go to voice mail. He disconnected, then made a second call.
“Noelle? Tipster just called in about Ivan Holland’s location. Wouldn’t give his name and the call was cut off.” He huffed out a frustrated breath. “No, I don’t know where he was calling from. The number is a cell phone.”
Penny bolted to her feet. “I know where he called from.”
Tyler stared. “What? How could you know that?”
She grinned. “That noise in the background. Did you hear it? It’s the Cyclone roller coaster at Coney Island.”
He quirked up an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”
“Completely. I used to beg Bradley to take me. Once we rode it three times in a row until I got sick to my stomach. That sound is unmistakable. That’s where the tipster is right now.” If the caller was telling the truth, it was also very likely where Tyler would find the fugitive the unit had been seeking for more than six months.
“Noelle, meet me at Coney Island. I need you to make the positive ID and keep your distance. I’ll handle the bust with backup. We won’t risk him going after you or Liberty one more time,” Tyler added to Noelle before he disconnected.
Penny and Tyler ran with both dogs in tow to Tyler’s car. “I’ll drop you at the safe house on my way,” he said after she climbed in.
She shook her head. “That will take too much time. You have to go now or Holland might get away. I don’t want to stay here by myself since most everybody is busy elsewhere at the moment, so I’ll go with you.”
He gunned the engine. “I’m not taking chances with your safety. I’ll stay here with you until...”
“Call Vivienne. Tell her to meet us at Coney Island. I’ll stay in the car until she gets there or until you’re done.”
“No way, I can’t—”
“Yes, you can,” she snapped. He jerked a look at her, eyes wide, but she plunged on. “This department has more to do than searching for Randall and babysitting me. Holland is a menace.” In fact, he had murdered an informant, targeted Noelle and would have succeeded in killing Liberty if the dog had not been so well trained. She tipped up her chin and looked Tyler full in the face. “I’m not letting you risk a chance to catch this thug for my sake. We have to go right now.”
His eyes were pained. “I can’t...”
She squared off with him. “If I’m not safe in a locked police car in the middle of Coney Island with a seventy-pound dog on my lap, then I’m not safe anywhere. Drive, Detective,” she insisted.
It seemed as if her command had left him stunned. After a long moment of hesitation, he flipped on the lights and siren. “Buckle up.”
She already had. Surprised at her own forcefulness, she sat back in the seat and watched the road fly by. Tyler didn’t look at her and she wondered if she’d offended him.
But she was right. There were more people that needed protection, besides her. If Ivan Holland got away because of her, she would not be able to stomach that. Clutching the door handle, she steadied herself as Tyler wove in and out of traffic on their way to Coney Island, squawking his siren to punch his vehicle through.
They pulled up to the boardwalk that divided the broad stretch of beach from the amusement rides and vendors. The place brought back memories for Penny, and she smiled in spite of the circumstances. Summertime and stolen days with her brother were some of her sweetest childhood recollections. Bradley had saved up his money and treated her when he could. They’d ridden every ride they could afford and stuffed themselves with Nathan’s Famous hot dogs—hers smothered in mustard and the works for him. She’d never tasted anything as delicious as those greasy treats.
“Best thing ever?” Bradley had said, his own fingers sticky with condiments.
She’d nodded. “Best thing ever, best brother ever.”
When Bradley’s money ran out, they would walk on the shore, searching for shells cast up on the sand. He always constructed elaborate sand villages that she decorated with bits of driftwood and broken shells. Their sprawling structures inevitably garnered attention from the other beachgoers. Penny loved the beach just as much as the rides. There on the sand, no one cared if a person’s clothes were too small or a kid’s bangs were crooked after her teen brother had done his best to trim them. Moments at the beach were glorious and golden.
The beach and boardwalk were always magnets for families walking hand in hand or playing near the surf—mothers, fathers and their children. Funny how that had never bothered her on those long-ago days. She’d had Bradley and he was enough. He was the biggest blessing in her life. Rand
all’s threat echoed ominously in her mind.
First you, then your brother.
Stroking Scrappy’s thick fur for comfort, she resolved to do whatever Bradley or Tyler asked of her, anything that would help capture Randall and make sure Bradley would have a future.
The massive wooden Cyclone stood proudly at the corner of Surf Avenue and West 10th Street, as it had since it opened in 1927. Its arching ramps and twists were darkly silhouetted against the sky. How she’d squealed in delight over each heart-stopping drop. Noelle and Liberty had already arrived, and had parked on the street that was tucked between the monstrous coaster in front and Luna Park behind. Only two months before both areas would have been jammed with summer vacationers, enjoying the scorching temperatures, but now the area had far fewer visitors.
Before he got out, Tyler turned to her.
“I know, I know,” she said before he could speak. “Stay in the car. Do not open the door under pain of death. Text you at the first whiff of trouble.”
He paused and, after a moment, grinned. “Okay, yeah, that’s what I was going to say and one more thing.”
“What did I forget?”
“Nothing.” Quickly he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
She started, nerves tumbling. “What is that for?”
“I’ve been meaning to thank you for making Rain’s ouchie all better.” He fingered a lock of her hair that was draped over one shoulder. “Thank you. You are a very special woman.”
Before she could say a word in response, he got out of the car. In a fog, she watched as Noelle handed him a plastic bag, which he opened to give Dusty a sniff. She knew it was an item from the warehouse where Ivan Holland had murdered someone who had informed on him. Dusty grew excited, tail lashing, and led Tyler in the direction of the boardwalk. Noelle and Liberty followed, Liberty’s tail arcing through the air in unison with Dusty’s.
Tyler’s kiss still felt warm on her cheek. She put her hand there to convince herself she hadn’t imagined it. He’d really kissed her? After she’d bossed him so terribly? When he’d thought of her as a child not too long before?
You are lovable and loved because God said so.
She realized that in the course of a few days she had glimpsed a whole new side of Tyler than she’d ever seen before. He was a gentle man, a father with a deep wound who was still able to comfort and minister to others. He was faithful. He was loving.
Loving? To her? He had probably meant nothing by the kiss—it was just an automatic gesture, some sort of token of friendship. But her stomach somersaulted, anyway, as if she was taking a ride on the mighty Cyclone again.
Unhappy with his confinement, Scrappy whined and crawled into her lap, peering out the window to see where Tyler and Dusty had gone. Penelope clasped her arms around his stout neck and strained to do the same. Was Ivan Holland out there somewhere, lying in wait for Tyler and Noelle? Or perhaps the tip had been some sort of planned ambush by Holland’s enemies.
Breathing gone shallow, all she could do was watch and wait.
* * *
Tyler did not allow himself to think about anything but Dusty as she scurried from spot to spot on the wide, slatted boardwalk. If he had, he would have tried to puzzle out just what in the world he’d been thinking kissing Penny.
To his left, past the boardwalk railings, was a wide expanse of golden sand with only two hardy individuals building castles in the autumn temperatures. It reminded him that Rain’s upcoming birthday plan was to go to the beach in spite of the season. To his right was a line of ride entrances intermingled with pizza and hot-dog establishments, gelato stands and souvenir vendors. The smell of popcorn filled the air.
He trailed Dusty, confident that nothing would derail her from her quarry. He’d called for backup on the way. Noelle was scanning the crowd. Since Tyler had never actually seen Holland face-to-face, he was counting on her to make the identification more quickly that he could from the photos he’d been shown. With her eyes and Dusty’s tracking, they would get him if the tipster’s information had been correct. The golden retriever’s nose was working overtime trying to sort out Holland’s scent from the millions of visitor trails crisscrossing the boardwalk. So intent was he on his dog that he almost didn’t notice the towheaded boy who raced over to pet Liberty, oblivious to the Police Dog, Do Not Pet sign emblazoned on her harness. As Noelle tried to get between the boy and Liberty, Tyler looked for the mother. He suspected it was the woman so distracted paying for two hot dogs she hadn’t realized her son had wandered off.
At that precise moment, Dusty whined and sat near a man with sunglasses perched on a metal bench. The man tried to look nonchalant, but Tyler saw his posture stiffen as he took in the police dog. Noelle’s eyes widened as she signaled Tyler. No mistake. Holland’s panicked look flicked from Dusty to Tyler and he shoved a hand in his coat pocket.
“Stop right there—police,” Tyler called, drawing his weapon.
Holland leaped to his feet and darted behind an older woman, who looked up in surprise. At the sight of Tyler’s weapon, she froze and let out a small scream.
The scream caused panic to ripple through the handful of visitors, who began to run in all directions. “Get down,” Tyler shouted, but he lost sight of Holland behind the scurrying bystanders.
“Tyler.” Noelle’s voice was tight with tension. He spun to find Ivan Holland with his hand gripping the neck of the boy who had been on his way to pet Liberty. Holland had a gun pressed to the boy’s head. Noelle restrained a barking Liberty with one hand and gripped her revolver in the other.
The mom turned toward the commotion, dropped the hot dogs and shrieked. “Stay there,” Tyler shouted at her. “Holland, let the kid go,” he commanded.
Holland’s eyes thinned to slits. “No way. One of my people tipped you off, huh? Traitor.”
Tyler took a step forward. The mother was sobbing now.
“Please, let him go,” she wailed. “Don’t hurt my son.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Tyler saw two cops making their way along using the row of trash cans as cover. A couple steps closer and Holland would be surrounded, but the area was a target-rich environment with plenty of potential for injuries or worse.
“I’ll kill this boy if you try to stop me from leaving,” Holland yelled.
“You don’t want to do that,” Tyler said. “Let him go and we’ll talk it over.”
“Nothing to talk about. I walk or the kid dies.” Holland gave the boy a shake. Tears coursed down the youngster’s face.
“Stop,” his mother sobbed. “You’re hurting him.”
One of the newly arriving cops reached an arm out to keep her from coming any closer, but she lurched around him and rushed at Holland. Holland instinctively stepped back, stumbling as he did so. Tyler sprang at Holland and knocked him over backward, away from the child. The gun tumbled loose from his grip. Noelle was there in a flash, kicking the weapon away and training her own weapon on the gunrunner.
The mother scrambled to her son, clutching him, tears streaming down her face.
Holland struggled, but Tyler overwhelmed him easily, rolling him onto his stomach. Dusty and Liberty were both barking up a storm. The man grunted and thrashed.
“Shoulda killed that dog,” Holland spat, his cheek pressed to the dirty boardwalk.
“Now you’ll never get the chance.” As Tyler cuffed and Mirandized him, he felt a surge of intense satisfaction. Finally they had one fugitive in custody. Next on the agenda was putting the killer clown away for life.
Cops closed in from behind, keeping the crowd back and securing the loose weapon.
Breathing hard, Tyler looked up at Noelle with a grin. “About time, huh?”
She grinned back at him and lowered her weapon. “My thoughts exactly.” She rubbed Liberty’s ears. “Looks like the target is off our backs, sweetie.” Lib
erty celebrated with a long lick to her partner’s face.
Tyler and Noelle both took a moment to get their breathing under control and wipe the sweat from their brows. Adrenaline still swamped his senses, but he calmed as he rewarded Dusty with her favorite rope-pull toy and they enjoyed a quick game of tug. He tossed it for her, and she happily chased it down. Another job well done, another bad guy going to prison, where he belonged.
Tyler and Noelle waited until Holland was safely loaded into the back of a police car, and made sure the boy was not injured. To be on the safe side, they’d called in a medic to check over both the boy and the mother. Noelle arranged a ride for them back to the station to give their statements.
“That was scary, and I didn’t even get to go on any rides,” the boy said, face crumpling.
The dad in him pitied the disappointed child. “Well, how about if I ask the officer to show you the red lights and sirens on his car? How about that?” Tyler suggested. “He might even let you turn them on yourself.”
The child’s eyes lit up. Tyler escorted them to the waiting police car and asked the officer to take special care of his juvenile transport. Tyler heard the boy’s enthusiastic chatter as the cop bent to talk to him.
Overhead the squeals of delight carried from the Cyclone, as passengers plunged down a turn at sixty miles per hour. The thought occurred to him that it had been far too long since he’d ridden the big wooden attraction. The last time was when he and Diane were dating. At the top of that roller coaster, he’d looked out over the ocean and thought his future was right on track with the woman he loved. Then there had been the gut-twisting plunge. He’d not been back to Coney Island since that day, and he’d thought he would never return. All of a sudden he found he was looking forward to giving it another try. Rain would love the colors and excitement, and someday she’d be big enough that he could take her on the Cyclone, too.
An unexpected thought intruded. What would it be like if Penny was with them, her red hair streaming out behind her against the blue sky? They’d share some cotton candy as pink as her cheeks and listen to Rain’s squeals together, like a couple in love, a family. What? The daydream burst as quickly as it had formed, leaving him reeling.
