by Freya Barker
James Aiken called right after I sent a text to Kerry, reminding her to put the alarm back on. Apparently he’s back en route to Durango after clearing up what turns out to have been a miscommunication by his office.
“I may have dropped the ball,” I confess, thinking about Ella storming out after I tore a strip off her in front of everyone. “She, Blackfoot, and Parnak were having it out by the time I got here. Ella was trying to steamroll them. I told her, in no uncertain terms, she was overstepping her responsibilities and reminded her exactly what they were. She announced she’d be filing a report with her superiors in the UK. She apparently checked out of the hotel Saturday afternoon. I called the front desk when she didn’t answer her phone. I was hoping I could salvage something.”
The silence that follows is a bit uncomfortable. “James?”
“I’m here,” he says. “I don’t think you need to worry about Ms. Friesen. What I could gather from the early morning call I had with her office in Birmingham, and what I hope you can keep confidential, she’d been assigned to a desk for the past two years because of similar issues on prior cases overseas. This was supposed to be a probationary assignment because she was familiar with the facts leading up to it. Her boss apologized profusely and is offering to fly out himself. I told him I’d communicate with him directly, and if it was necessary for him to attend, we would link him in on video conference.”
I sit back in my chair and rake my fingers through my hair. “Phew. That’s a relief. I was willing to take the lumps if anything came of it. We’re all ready to be done with this case.”
“I hear you,” he chuckles. “I’ll probably be there by around three. If I pop into the office, are you still gonna be around?”
“Should be.”
“Good, ‘cause I may have found the source for those electronics. One of the manufacturer’s warehouse employees was caught almost a month ago selling discards on the Internet.”
“Discards?”
“Apparently, the company works with very precise specifications per purchase order. Even items with just minimal flaws—cracks in the casing, uneven cuts, scratches on lenses, those kinds of things—are collected in bins to be destroyed.”
“Let me guess,” I jump in. “That was supposed to be the guy’s job.”
“In one,” James says. “Money, Damian...for the right amount, everything is possible.”
“Boss!” I swing my chair around to see Jasper come tearing into my office, his face worried. “Picked up noise over the scanner. sheriff’s office got called out to investigate report of an illegal campsite spotted just north of Hermosa along the river. Patrol just radioed in their report; it looks like someone’s been there for a while. They found an ATV, a small boat trailer, and a high-end telescope aimed towa—”
“Aiken!” I yell into the phone still at my ear. “A mile north of Hermosa. Exit just south of the James Ranch parking lot. The road splits about three hundred yards in, hang right. Only house on that road...”
“Go,” he says in a deceptively calm voice. “Take Jas and Luna, I’ve got it.”
“Call Keith, tell him—” I know I’m panicking but I can’t seem to stop it.
“Gomez. I’ve got it. Go.”
I turn to Jasper while my fingers are already dialing. “Get Luna, grab tactical gear. You drive.” I toss my truck keys at him and listen to Kerry’s phone ring...and ring. Fuck no!
My feet start moving toward the door, and by the time I hit the hallway, I’m running full speed. Luna is at the top of the stairs, pulling whatever she can carry from the equipment locker. “Let’s go!” I yell at her as I pass her and run down the stairs, two at a time. Jas is just tossing duffel bags with gear in the back and stops me with a hand on my arm.
“Boss, Jesus...what about Bella?”
“Started work today, she should be there already. She called me on her way out,” I say, walking toward the passenger side door, as Luna stuffs Kevlar vests in the back and closes the hatch.
The phone still clutched in my hand starts ringing, just as we’re speeding through Durango with full lights and sirens.
“We’ve got State Patrol closing off your road at the highway,” Blackfoot jumps right in when I put him on speaker. “James is on the horn with the sheriff, making sure everyone keeps their distance. I’ve got two patrol cars ahead of me, and Boris is leaving his office now.”
“Okay. James give you coordinates?” My training is finally kicking in, and I feel the blood in my veins freezing as my focus sharpens.
“South of James Ranch parking lot. Hang right at the split?”
“You’ve got it. Put a call out for everyone to hold up, right after a sharp right curving up a ridge. Once over that ridge, anyone at the house can see you coming.”
“Gotcha. How’re you going in?” he wants to know.
“Working on it.” I click off and turn in my seat to Luna. “Got your laptop?” She shrugs a backpack off her shoulders and pulls out her Mac.
“What do you need?” she asks, her hands poised over the keyboard.
I think for a minute before answering. “Find me a boat launch,” I tell her. “Pull up satellite and look for any open spots along the river with a farmer’s lane, a dirt road, anything that looks like it could be tracks leading to the road.”
“Jas—see if you can get through to the sheriff’s office. They may know of any river access south of my place, north of town.”
“You think he’s got wheels waiting downriver,” Luna states from the back seat.
“I do.”
I stare out the side window, barely noticing Jasper talking on the phone as he tears through a red light. I’m too busy trying to catch sight of the river.
“Got something,” Luna leans forward, twisting the screen so I can see. “See that trail along the water that starts in the bend, just south of you? It runs all the way south into town. Hooks up with Animosa Drive and right to the 550. A lot of the shore is flat there, so it wouldn’t be too hard to pull a small boat or raft right into shore.”
“In Hermosa, take Animosa Drive to the end,” I tell Jas, who thanks whoever was on the phone and hangs up.
“Check. I know where it is.”
I turn back to the screen and follow the barely visible path all the way back up. “If you had to hide a car, where would you leave it?” I ask Luna, who doesn’t hesitate to point out a spot not too far south of where she initially picked up the footprints.
“Right there. The prints end right in the bend, where the river curves toward the highway, just south of the house. Follow the line of the river and you see it meander sharply south again. That’s where most of the vegetation ends until you hit town. I’d tuck it into the trees right where it makes that sharp turn.”
“That can’t be more than three or four hundred yards from my house. Closer than the ridge,” I observe.
“Walking distance,” Luna points out. She’s right.
“Then we approach from there.”
With that decision made, I call Keith, who answers immediately.
“Where are you?” he asks right off the bat.
“Coming up on Hermosa. Change of plans. I’m coming in from the south. There’s a trail running all the way from Hermosa, north along the river, and comes to an end just south of my place. We think that’s how he’s planning to get away. We’re gonna follow that trail to the end and go in on foot. Get a car down Animosa Drive behind us to close off the access to the river, just in case we somehow miss him on the trail. It probably wouldn’t hurt to get some coverage along the river to the south, if for some reason he heads further downriver.”
“All access and exit points have been covered on the highway and on the river. Except that one,” he says. “I missed it.”
“Luna picked it up.” The silence on the other side is deafening until I hear a deep sigh.
“Good catch,” he mumbles, clearly with a great deal of reluctance.
“I’ll call you when we get th
ere. Before we go in from behind, I need you guys to create a very careful distraction on the road in front of the house. Start getting your head around that.” I slide my thumb across the screen to end the call and look up. As Jasper flies down Animosa Drive, I catch glimpses of the river as it gets closer by the second.
KERRY
I gasp awake at a wave of ice-cold water in my face. I try to reach up to wipe the water from my eyes but find I can’t move my hands.
Slowly, realization comes back. Someone is in the house. My eyes fly wide-open, and I blink furiously at the water blurring my vision. I’m on the floor, with my back leaning against the side of the couch, and my hands tied behind me. The man standing over me is very familiar, but the rage distorting his face is new.
“Where are they?” he hisses out between his teeth, and I almost gag when the rancid smell hits my nostrils.
“Where are...what?” I don’t move fast enough when I see his fist hauling at my face. The impact knocks me right over, and I hit the ground with a loud smack.
The pain is blinding, but I have little time to react because the next thing I know, I’m pulled upright by my hair. He bends his face closer and this time when he speaks, I feel spittle hitting my cheeks. “Birds. My box with the birds—where is it?” he blasts me directly in my face. It’s inevitable, the combination of the excruciating pain and his vile breath has the contents of my stomach come surging up. For a moment, I feel a little tinge of vindication when he violently pulls my head back to try and avoid the stream of vomit shooting out, and as a result gets most of it on him. The feeling is short-lived because he jumps up and kicks me hard in the ribs when I’m shoved to the ground.
“Fuck you!” he yells. “You’re disgusting!”
Good. The thought pops in my head as he stomps off to the kitchen and starts wiping himself with a wad of wet paper towels. If he had any thoughts about getting close to me, I’m sure he’s rethinking them now.
With a frustrated growl, he tosses the towels in the sink and walks past me, disappearing out of view.
“It’s gotta be here somewhere,” he mutters under his breath as I hear the sound of tearing, banging, crashing—glass breaking. “I was assured it was here. Where the fuck is it?”
I try to stay as still as possible, hearing the mania in his voice as he rants and raves through the house. Not that I can move or speak if I wanted to. The thought of dying teases at the edge of my fear, but I push it away. I feel helpless, completely out of control. Even if there’s not a doubt in my mind Damian will come for me, I can’t just wait to be rescued. I have to do something—I have to move.
While the bangs and crashes continue from upstairs, I start moving my hands against whatever he tied them up with. Tape? My legs are free and I move them a little, trying not to make any noise. I gingerly lift my head, ignoring the stabbing pain behind my eyes. From where I’m lying, I can see into the kitchen. The floor is covered with the contents of the cupboards and drawers. Broken glass spreads well into the hallway. This is not the result of a coherent search—this looks more like a mad rampage.
Turning my head slightly, I see the door to the laundry room propped open. Piling out are Bella’s boxes, ripped and torn, with the innocent contents spilling out. A loud crash, sounding like a large piece of furniture falling over, comes from upstairs and spurs me into action.
I never realized how hard it is to get up off the floor without the use of your hands. Using the couch as leverage, I manage to get to my knees but no further.
Sharp. I need something sharp. My eyes are automatically drawn back to the kitchen, scanning what I can see from the counter and the floor. I’m already shuffling on my knees in that direction when I spot the knife block on its side on the edge of the counter. I automatically drop my gaze to the floor immediately below and see the grip of one of the steak knives sticking out from under a pile of kitchen towels. My eyes stay focused there as I move as fast as I can in that direction. I don’t even notice the shards of glass breaking my skin as I crawl on my knees toward it.
Upstairs, I hear him moving from room to room. Every time I hear the tread of his footsteps on the wood floor of the hallway, I hold my breath, waiting until they get muffled again by the carpet of another bedroom.
When I reach the knife, I slide on my ass and turn, feeling around with my hands. Once again, I hear his heavy treads coming out of a room, but this time they don’t stop. The heavy thump of feet on the stairs sends me into a panic, and I almost miss the handle as my fingers frantically skim over it.
There’s no time. I barely manage to get a grip on the knife, slump down on the floor and pretend to be passed out as his footsteps hit the tiles at the bottom of the stairs. It’s hard to try and play dead when your heart is beating its way out of your chest and your breath wheezes through your teeth from pain and terror.
“The fuck?” His footsteps rush closer, and I struggle not to wince when they stop just inches from my face. A hand grabs me hard by the hair, and this time I feel chunks being torn from my scalp as I’m brutally yanked up. I’m obviously not cut out to be an actor because his voice hisses in my ear, “Up, you bitch! You can’t fool me.” He shakes my head violently, and I have to fight to stay on my feet.
“I...I don’t know what you want. I don’t know wh...where your books are,” I pant through clenched teeth at the pain in my body and struggle to keep a tight grip on the knife behind my back.
“Twenty-six million dollars. You think I will hesitate, even for a second, to take you apart bit by bit in order to get back what’s mine? Where did you hide it?”
When I feel cold steel pressed hard against the soft tissue under my chin, my eyes finally snap open. The knife clatters uselessly from my hand to the floor, yet he doesn’t even blink. There’s madness in the eyes glaring back at me.
Calculated madness.
“Please, Bruce...” I beg in futile hope that I can somehow reach a single fiber of humanity inside this lunatic. “I don’t know where they are.”
The last words have barely left my lips when I’m swung around in front of his body and his arm hooks around my neck.
“Kerry—Down!”
I don’t know whether it is from sheer relief at hearing Damian’s voice or from paralyzing fear that my knees seem to buckle underneath me. He’s unprepared for my sudden collapse, so my head easily slips through his arm, just as the front door slams open behind us and shots ring out.
CHAPTER 28
Damian
“42563192,” I whisper in my head set.
“Jesus, boss,” Jasper groans back. “You couldn’t stick to an easy four-number combo like a normal person?”
I hear Luna’s soft chuckle behind me. “The first three digits ensure it’s disarmed silently, smartass,” I send back.
We found a raft pulled up on the rocks along the river, just out of sight of the house. If we had any doubts before, we have none now. Keith is monitoring our movements on the radio and is currently holding off. Luna and I have a visual of the house and are waiting in the tree line for Jasper to move around to the side door into the garage. I can’t know if Kerry ever had the chance to put the alarm back on and sent Jas around to make sure it’s off before we attempt to barge in.
The element of surprise is our only option, since we have no decent visual except through the sliding door in the kitchen, and in order to use that to our advantage, we’d have to make ourselves visible.
“Putting in code now, and...off.” Jasper’s voice is barely audible but the highly sensitive earpieces allow us to hear a pin drop.
“Hold position. We’re going to approach from the deck.”
The shortest open route is at the corner of the deck that runs the width of the house. The deck is about two feet off the grass, with two steps coming down. I keep my weapon trained on the sliding door as I wave Luna ahead. She sprints past me toward the edge of the deck with her body crouched low. There’s no movement from inside. The moment she ducks down out
of sight, using a corner post to give her cover as she takes over aim on the door, I follow behind in similar fashion.
Peeking over the edge, I have a much better view of the kitchen, just as the large shape of a man walks in and bends down before I get a decent look.
“Visual on the suspect.” Luna sees him, too.
“On ‘go’,” I alert my team, knowing that Keith and Jasper both will be at the ready.
In the next moment, my heart literally stops in my chest and all cool, collected focus flies right out the window. I can clearly see Willoughs suddenly straightening up, pulling a barely recognizable Kerry up by the hair. I watch as he shakes her, sticks the barrel of a gun under her chin, and yells in her face.
I don’t realize I’m moving until I hear Luna say, “Go. Go. Go,” in my ear. I have my hand on the sliding door when he hears me. Already made, I don’t bother hiding the sound of the door sliding open as he wraps his arm around Kerry’s neck, turning her as a shield.
“Kerry—Down!” My voice booms through the house.
I don’t think, I let muscle memory take over as I watch Kerry slip through his hold, revealing just enough of his head to pull the trigger on the weapon in my hands. More shots are fired, but all I need to see is the instant, brief look of surprise on that cocksucker’s face as the bullets hit. I’m already running, barely hearing the calls for cease fire around me. At first I can’t see her, just the large shape of a very dead man bleeding out on the floor. I grab him by the collar and without a single care, toss him to the side to find Kerry’s much smaller body, covered in blood and brain matter, crumpled underneath.
I vaguely register someone dragging the dead body into the hallway as I slide down to the floor, my back against a cupboard, and carefully pull a catatonic Kerry in my arms.
“IS IT OVER?”
Her voice sounds raw. I tap her lips with the straw and wince when she tries to crack her eyelids. Her eyes are almost swollen shut. Some of it is from the beating she endured and some of it happened when that bastard’s blood got in her eyes and caused an irritation. Part of me wishes he were still alive so I could kill him with my bare hands this time.
