by Lisa Harris
He blinked. Hollis’s office at the diner? He’d been in the back hall one night when he picked her up and drove her home because her car had been in for an oil change. But she hadn’t shown him the office.
Two men were in the room, their backs to him as they rifled through drawers at the desk and the file cabinet. Jeans. Beat-up jackets, and dirty hair. Rough-looking guys, but he figured he could take them both on if he had to. Neither of the guys had powered on the ancient desktop PC.
Will didn’t move, or make a sound. Otherwise it would clue them in to the fact he was awake. Not something they needed to know. At least not until he was ready for them to know it.
He’d never met them before, but until they turned and he got good looks at their faces, he couldn’t be a hundred percent sure. Still, they didn’t seem familiar.
Didn’t mean he hadn’t met plenty of their type before, though.
Will’s head ached. He wanted to moan but swallowed the urge to make noise. He blew out a breath silently, letting his expression wash with all the pain he wanted to express out loud. His hands were tied securely to the swivel office chair. If he moved too much, he’d start spinning around. So, he sat tight, and if they came close enough, he would use his feet to keep them at bay while he figured out how to break free of the chair.
He shifted enough to confirm that they’d relieved him of his gun, which he didn’t see on the desk or anywhere else.
One of the men turned. Will made like he was waking up.
“He’s coming around.”
Will blinked. He didn’t recognize the voice, or the face. “Who…” He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then said, “What’s going on?”
The first guy, the only one who’d spoken so far, kept searching the file cabinet. His friend circled the desk to stand in front of Will.
“Let me go.”
The man studied Will. Not sure what to make of him? Then he pulled a wallet off the desktop that Will hadn’t previously noticed, and opened it. “Phil Tilley.”
“Why’d you tie me up?” He groaned. “Did you knock me out? My head is pounding.”
“Yeah…” The man dragged the word out. “I’m thinking Phil Tilley isn’t your name. Just a real good alias. Considering I have good information you’re actually an FBI agent.”
“What are you talking about?” Will shook his head, then winced. It did actually hurt. That, he didn’t have to pretend. “Phil. Tilley. Insurance agent.”
“Mmm. I see the business card. Too bad for you my information is good. In fact, there’s no one better.”
A mole in the police department, maybe. Or West was seriously connected. If Hollis had found out that Phil was, in fact, an FBI agent, then it was since the last time he’d seen her.
Now he was blown.
Despite what these guys thought, he wasn’t going to admit to anything. But to himself, he could admit that his cover was done. Bad guys in town knew he was an FBI agent.
“Which means it’s legit, Mr. Special Agent.”
Was that what Eric had been calling about? Trying to tell him he’d been blown?
“Guess you caught me.” Will chuckled. “An FBI agent. That’s priceless. Fighting crime, taking out bad guys.” He full out laughed then, trying to make it sound real.
Probably he should have picked up when his handler had called, instead of sending Eric to voicemail. Then he’d have gotten a heads-up about this.
Live and learn, I guess.
Still, if Eric had told him he’d been blown, Will wouldn’t have actually done anything different. Not really. He’d still have come in here; he just might have gone about it another way.
Will continued, “Now I’m sending West scrambling to hit back at me before I can get the chance to take her down.” He waited for the reaction.
The guy’s eyes flared.
Will realized he’d exposed his theory. “Yeah, I know all about her. Unless I’m not at the top of the food chain?”
He needed the information. Either he’d be arresting Hollis, even though he didn’t really want to. Or she’d be testifying against the person who was actually responsible for everything that’d happened the past few months.
People terrorized. Threatened. Lives in danger.
The town itself had changed, along with the people who lived here. But Will wasn’t a resident, so it wasn’t like he cared. He wouldn’t be around long enough to see how it played out.
“Mmm.” The guy tossed his wallet on the desk. “Got the evidence you need, yeah? Or not. Because you’re still here, and no arrests have been made. Which means you don’t know squat.”
“If I’m wrong, then prove it.”
The guy grinned. Then he spun to his friend. “Find anything yet?”
“No. Might not be here.”
“If it isn’t, we need to know.”
“Right.” The friend went back to the file cabinet and its drawers stuffed with papers.
What were they looking for? Will needed them to admit who they worked for. What they were doing here. Something he could use to move forward when the time came. And that time had better be soon, or he was going to have a problem.
Eric would want to pull him out immediately if he’d really been blown. It was too hard to control who knew what information and who didn’t, at least enough to contain any potential fallout. Will’s op would be over. But when there was another layer beyond what the cops had found, more going on in Last Chance than anyone had even realized, no way was Will going to admit defeat and leave.
“Tell me who you work for.”
The guy said, “Think you’re going to interrogate me, and I’ll just give up my boss to you?”
“It’s worth a try.” Will shrugged one shoulder. “What are you going to do with me anyway?”
“Good question.” He stretched his arms the way Will desperately wanted to do and gave a flash of hairy stomach when his T-shirt rode up over his belt. “Haven’t decided whether to kill you straight, or have some fun first.”
“How about you put me out of my misery before you put me out of my misery?”
The guy barked a laugh.
“And tell me who you work for.”
The guy grinned as he folded his arms. “West. Obviously.”
That was supposed to give him something? “How does Hollis fit into this? She’s involved, right?” Otherwise why would they be here? “Is she really West? Cause I heard she was. I didn’t all the way believe it, but it could be true. Right?”
“Full of all kinds of surprises, that one.” The guy studied him. “Found herself right in the middle of all this.”
“So, what are you guys looking for here?”
The guy angled his head back to his friend but didn’t take his attention from Will. “Think we should just tell him?”
“Put him out of his misery, before we put him out of his misery?” The friend chuckled. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Will gritted his teeth. He tugged against the ties securing his hands, but there was nothing he could do about it. He was tied to the chair. No quick jump up to attack this guy’s smug face and maybe get out of here afterwards. They’d have to cut him free first.
The guy in front of him swung out with his fist and nailed Will in the cheekbone before he could blink.
He hissed out a breath before he even tried to move his jaw. Ouch.
“You think I’m gonna spill everything?” His face reddened. “Like I’m some kind of idiot that doesn’t know how to kill you dead? You think you’re getting out of this when you are not. Welcome to your last rites, Special Agent Briar. You’re a dead man. You just don’t know it yet.”
Will swallowed. His cheek bone hurt like the guy’s fist was still against it. He squeezed his eyes shut.
No. This wasn’t over.
Not by a long shot.
“You aren’t going to kill me.”
The guy laughed.
This had to go in his favor. It had to net him some res
ults, otherwise he might as well let them kill him.
“Tied to a chair. Thinks he has the upper hand.” The guy shook his head. “Did you find it yet?”
Before his friend could answer, Will said, “What are you looking for? Phil is dating Hollis. I can help you.”
The two men shared a look.
Will said, “I can get you information. Unless you spread it wide that I’m FBI.” He shrugged, hoping he didn’t sound desperate. “I can work for you guys. Pass you information. When the FBI sweeps up everyone connected to West, I can make a deal. Get you guys probation. No jail time. What do you say?”
“Seems to me like you don’t know much. What could you possibly pass to me?”
Will gritted his teeth against the insinuation. “You think having an FBI agent in your pocket isn’t going to come in handy?” Never mind what he knew, or didn’t. This wasn’t about his ability to do his job. Or his intelligence. “I’ll think about it.” But the guy got his cell from his jeans pocket and typed on the screen. Texting West?
“You do that. Because killing me is going to bring down a world of hurt. The FBI will never stop looking for you, and there won’t be a place you can hide. They’ll find you. You’ll die, or you’ll go to jail for the rest of your life. You won’t get away with this.” He knew he sounded desperate now, but he was running out of options.
The friend slid the file cabinet shut and turned. “There’s nothing here.”
“Still.” The guy in front of him narrowed his eyes. “Just in case.”
His friend chuckled.
“Go get the gasoline.”
Will watched him leave. “You’re gonna give up a prime opportunity to get ahead of the cops?”
“He’s already ahead of the cops.”
“And Hollis?”
“You don’t need to worry about her. You’ll be dead, and she’ll just…disappear.” He grinned.
When his friend returned with two gas cans—full, given the way he carried them—both guys started pouring it around the room. On the desk. Around Will.
Fumes licked up to his nose. Will shook his head. “Don’t do this.”
They were going to burn him alive? He’d rather get shot first but didn’t want to ask for that. Who would?
The friend trailed out of the room and down the hall, leaving him with the first guy.
“Don’t do this.”
“I do enjoy when people beg.” He grinned. “But unfortunately, we can’t leave loose ends. That means the paperwork, and that means you.”
“Don’t—”
He walked out. Will’s chest rose and fell rapidly. His body reacting to the fear before the rest of him even caught up. He gasped for air and looked around.
What was he supposed to do?
Fumes filled his nostrils.
God… He couldn’t ask for help. Not even when he was about to die. God wasn’t going to answer a guy like him.
He heard the whoosh of flames and started to push the chair back with his feet. He moved far enough, his bound hands hit the wall. The door that led to the bathroom.
Just as the room erupted into flames.
Chapter Five
The second hollis opened the door of her car, she smelled the smoke. Fire. She ran from her spot in the tiny rear parking lot to the back door, pulling her keys from her purse as she ran. But the door was ajar.
Her footsteps stammered to a stop as she realized smoke poured out the open doorway. The inside of the diner was on fire.
Hollis gasped, then had to cough as the smoke smell hit the back of her throat. She dropped her purse and the contents spilled out, but she didn’t bother gathering it all back up.
The diner was burning.
She spun to face the car. Her phone. She needed to call 911; get firefighters here. Which meant the police would show up as well.
But the kidnapper’s note. Hollis had the flash drive tucked in her purse. She needed to put the flash drive in the port on her office computer and copy the files over. Whatever they were and whatever information they contained, she had no idea. And it didn’t matter. Doing it would save Frankie’s life, and that was all that counted.
Hollis had no choice.
She pushed open the back door. At the far end of the hall, she could see flames through the thick smoke. The smell was awful. Thankfully no one was inside, or they’d be having a serious problem right now. No one could breathe that for long.
But her problem was clear.
She had to get to the office—assuming it wasn’t full of fire as well—and get the flash drive into the computer before firefighters showed up, barring her from the office for days.
Frankie didn’t have that long.
Hollis had no idea if the kidnappers would wait. Or what they’d do in the meantime. Kill him. Hurt him even more when he was already clearly in so much pain every day. The accident had turned a distant man into a surly, distant one. The last couple of years hadn’t been easy, but she hadn’t given up taking care of him—even if sometimes all he’d let her do was watch him struggle to do everything himself. That is, before he would eventually kick her out of his house at the end of the visit.
It wasn’t like she would give up on him now. If she was going to do that, then she would’ve done it a long time ago.
Hollis pulled the flash drive from the spilled contents of her purse and stuck it in her jacket pocket. Then she jogged around the building to the left side where the office window was. She could see flames inside, through the blinds. She grasped the frame in order to pull the screen off the window. It pressed into her fingertips painfully. She hissed out a breath and got it free. It fell to the ground.
She didn’t bother looking at her fingers. Who cared?
This was much more important than her own comfort.
“Argh!”
Hollis glanced in the direction of the sound. A man, crying out. She moved to the next window—the Jack and Jill bathroom with entrances from both the office and the hallway.
“Argh!”
She heard him again. There was someone in there. And whoever he was needed help.
This window was a whole lot smaller than the other diner windows, but big enough for someone to stand on the back of the toilet and climb out.
Hollis grabbed a rock from the ground and slammed it against the frosted glass. It took her a couple of tries to break the glass, then she had to break all the corner pieces. Shards dropped toward her, but she ignored it. Even when one disappeared down the collar of her shirt.
She winced and kept going.
“Who’s there?”
She knew that voice. “Phil?” What was her boyfriend doing in there? “Are you in the bathroom?”
“Yes. I’m so glad you’re here, Hollis.” He sounded so relieved it rushed through her, a surge of gratitude. “But I can’t get out! I’m tied up. I need help.”
She didn’t want to grasp the window frame with the jagged glass. Hollis looked around. What was… A tire. She hefted it over, then rolled it to the wall. She stood on it, gaining six or so inches in height. Enough to look over the ledge, through the window and into the bathroom.
“Phil?”
He winced.
“What happened?” He looked like he had blood on his face. Like he’d been beaten. He was also laying on his side, his arms awkwardly behind his back. “Why are you tied up?”
Instead of answering her question, he said, “Can you find something to cut me free?”
She was going to have to climb in there after all. “Yeah. Wait one second.” As if he had the means to be someplace else at the moment.
Hollis raced back to her purse, fell to her knees on the grass, and rummaged. She found her nail clippers. Hopefully they would work. Then she ran back to the window.
She heard sirens in the distance and muttered a thank you to whoever was listening. Her beliefs weren’t something she’d considered much. Church had been a disaster. She just didn’t fit there in that culture.
It was fine. They didn’t want her either, so she hadn’t gone back.
How she felt about God was different than how she felt about the culture, she could admit that. But she could also admit that He might use his people to speak for Him, regardless of her opinion or whether or not they accurately represented who God was.
So maybe, if He was really up there, He didn’t want her. Maybe. Deep down, she knew He would still be God, with the ability to make things happen down here, regardless.
Hollis pushed aside the thoughts and focused. She had to haul her body up and over the window ledge, so she pulled off her jacket and put it over the sill where the broken glass was. Wincing at the fact she was ruining her favorite new accessory splurge, she climbed into the window—narrowly avoiding landing her foot in the toilet.
She wasn’t a small woman. Never had been, and never would be. She ran a few times a week. But she also ate whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted to. Because life was way too short to feel guilty about food that tasted so good. Anyway, Phil hadn’t seemed to care about her size. It wasn’t like he was a small man. He was so big, he almost made her feel dainty.
“I have nail clippers.” She held them up, between her fingers.
“Worth a try.” Phil shifted so she could see his hands.
Hollis stepped over his legs. There wasn’t much room in the bathroom. She crouched and tried to snip the ties holding his hands, part of her weight on the chair. She needed to hurry up. His clothing was damp, and he smelled like gasoline. The air in the bathroom was getting thicker. “Is the fire going to spread in here?”
“If it does, I hope we’re outside at the time.”
She figured that meant he wanted her to go as quickly as possible. “Almost there. What about the office? Can I go in there?”
“If there’s something in there you want to save, I’m sorry to say you are out of luck.”
His arms shifted, and he tugged at the ties. Hollis cut, and he pulled, enough the ties broke apart. Phil rolled and stood up in one smooth move. She’d always liked the way he moved. He just had…presence. It was easy to get swept up in the way he commanded everything around him, the force of who he was seemed to hang in the air.
