CHAPTER 34
HE wouldn't do anything with all those people downstairs, would he? She wet her lips. "Hello, Richard."
He pushed himself off the bed and walked toward her, stopping directly in front of her. Her mind screamed to run, but her legs wouldn't listen. He brushed some hair off her face, and she tried desperately not to flinch or let her face betray the depth of her revulsion. "Rikard," he said, not bothering to mask his accent. "My name is Rikard Šabalj."
Panic made it hard to comprehend what he said. "I don't understand," she said around the driest mouth she'd ever had. "What is that accent?"
"I'm from Serbia." He reached out and picked up a strand of her hair. "My home is on the beautiful blue Danube River."
Keep him talking, she thought. Make Jen come look for her. "I don't know where that is."
"Of course you don't. You're American. There is nothing in your world except your sea to shining sea. The rest of the world only exists to amuse you on the evening news." He started winding her hair around his finger.
Melody licked her lips. "Why did you pretend to be American?"
"I was on a job. I needed to be Richard Johnson." His face relaxed and became more familiar. The next time he spoke, it was with the smooth southern voice she remembered. "Why? Is this easier for you?"
Melody shuddered, wondering again how she ever fancied herself in love with this man. Her stomach rolled with sickness when she thought about how close she'd come to marrying him. Trying to appear nonchalant, she shrugged. "It's more familiar."
"I heard your message in Houston," he told her softly. "Why don't you and I go for a ride and catch up?"
His eyes held pure evil. He wore his hair long now, down to his shoulders, framing his pale face like a retro rock star in a burned out boy band. He stood about her height, but after the way she had worked out for the last few years, she probably had him in the muscle department.
She had to find a way to let Jen downstairs know that he was up here with her, without him knowing about it. "Look, Richard." At his narrowed eyes, she quickly corrected herself. "Rikard. It's Morgan's birthday party. I can't leave in the middle of the party. Wait up here for me. I'll make my excuses and come back up as soon as I can."
The slap caught her off guard and knocked her to her knees. She put a hand to her throbbing cheekbone, and kept her head lowered, afraid he might hit her again. He grabbed more of her hair and hauled her back to her feet, keeping a grip on her hair. "I said, let's go for a ride." He put his face to her neck, and inhaled, letting a hand slide over her stomach. "You owe me so much. And, tonight, you're going to start paying," he said.
Bile rose swiftly to her throat. "Richard," Melody gasped, choking back the terror and the tears, "this house is full of people. You'll never be able to get me out of here."
His hand left her stomach, then she felt something cold and hard press behind her ear, heard the unmistakable sound of the hammer of a handgun cocking back. He laughed a laugh that sent chills running up her spine. "I want them to see us. I want him to see us. Especially him. I dare you to say anything to me again besides 'yes.' All I want from you is yes or the next thing you say will be the last thing you ever say."
His hand in her hair hurt so badly. A tear spilled out of her eye and she became furious for letting him see it. She realized that if he pulled the trigger, she wouldn't even have time to feel the pain. He tickled her neck with the cold steel barrel then spoke as if to a child. "Do you understand me?"
She said, "Yes."
Through grit teeth, he hissed, "Walk."
He pushed her from the room and at the top of the staircase, she grabbed at the rail, trying to prevent him from going any further. "You keep moving," he said, yanking on her hair.
She bit back a sob and started down the stairs. At the bottom, someone gave a startled scream, and she heard Rikard start breathing faster.
Dear God, she prayed, he's enjoying this. Lord Jesus, please help me.
She saw Roberts and Suarez appear at the base of the stairs, guns drawn and pointed up at them.
"I think we all know you run the risk of hitting her instead of me," Rikard said coldly.
Suarez slowly cocked his pistol and took careful aim. Rikard said, "How good are you, Detective Suarez? Very good? You have to make that first shot count. If I have even one heartbeat left, I squeeze the trigger. Understand?"
The muzzle of the detective's pistol remained as steady as if it sat in a steel vice. If it unnerved Suarez that the man knew his name, he didn't show it. He also didn't take the shot. Rikard kneed Melody in the back to keep her moving. Roberts and Suarez kept their guns aimed, but didn't make a move.
Suddenly, James was there, too. She locked eyes with him and felt fresh tears flood down her cheeks. For a slight instant, she saw fury in his eyes, then a blankness replaced it that she didn't recognize. He looked away from her and looked at Rikard, folding his arms across his chest, standing with his feet slightly apart. Rikard stopped three steps from the bottom. "Hand your little wifey number two your car keys, Montgomery."
James lifted an eyebrow, and Rikard raised the gun and brought it hard against the side of Melody's temple. Pain screamed through her head and she felt her knees buckle under her. Then Rikard jerked her hair again, causing her to stand back up straight. "I said, hand my former fiancé your keys, or I will kill her while you watch. You of all people should know I'm capable of that."
James took his keys from his pocket and held them up. "Good boy. Lay them on the post there, then step back."
James did as he was told, setting the keys on the post at the end of the staircase, and Rikard pulled Melody to the bottom of the staircase, keeping her in front of him. "Grab the keys." He hissed.
She hesitated a moment too long. Rikard raised the gun and pointed it at James. "No! No, don't!" she sobbed, grabbing the keys, afraid they would fall from her slippery hands.
He put the gun back to her temple, and turned quickly, so that they walked backward toward the door. Her eyes met Hal's, then Kurt's, then Bobby's, each of the men's faces showing the same cold rigidness, each of their bodies tense with rage. Jen stood next to James, her hand on his arm. Melody wondered if that was to restrain James or keep herself restrained. She could hear Morgan crying, and arguing with someone to let her go.
"Reach behind me and open the door," he ordered, giving her hair another jerk. Melody did what he said, fearing he would point the gun at James again.
She kept eye contact with James until Rikard slammed the door, then he ran and dragged her at the same time, stopping at James' little green Jaguar sports car. The door to the house opened, and she tried to keep him from pushing her into the car. He hit her again with the gun, stunning her, and pushed her in, from the passenger seat to the driver's, and put the gun back to her temple as he slid into the seat next to her. "Drive," he ordered.
She started sobbing as she started the car and drove away, knowing that Rikard was going to kill her and that she'd never see James again. He reached across her and grabbed her seat belt, fastening it. He did the same thing with his own seat belt. At the sound of the metallic click, he said, "In case you decide to try something stupid."
She tried to drive slowly, knowing they would follow. He placed the muzzle of the pistol onto the back of her right hand as she gripped the gear shift. "If you don't drive this car like I know you can, I'm going to shoot you in your pretty little hand. You won't be able to play your precious piano if I blow off one of your hands, will you?"
"What difference does it make, Richard?" Melody screamed. "You're going to kill me anyway."
He pressed the barrel down on the knuckle of her right index finger, "You have until the count of three. One … two … " She pushed the accelerator to the floor, slowing down only to take the curves and approach intersections.
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JAMES felt his world slipping away as the door shut behind Melody and Rikard. He grabbed the door handle, but Suarez pushed him out
of the way, standing with his back against the door and one hand on James' chest. He pulled a phone out of his jacket pocket. Roberts held Kurt the same way. Jen Thorne and Mike Redman blocked Hal's access to the door.
"Get out of the way, Suarez," James breathed in an icy voice.
"We have to give him some room or else he'll kill her right now," Suarez said, then turned his attention to the phone, quickly summing up the situation. "Keep your distance," he said in the phone, "this guy's unpredictable." He hung up the phone, then let James go. They all poured out through the door, automatically pairing up as they went. James and Kurt ran to Kurt's Jeep, but a Porsche blocked it.
James kicked the tire of the Porsche. Jen pushed him out the way. A switchblade magically appeared in her hand and she struck the window of the sports car dead center and about an inch and a half above the door with the closed knife. The window shattered like porcelain into a thousand little bead sized gemstones of glass. She reached in and unlocked the car, then threw herself flat in the driver's seat. She opened the switchblade and used it like a crowbar to strip the ignition from the steering wheel column, then jammed it into the empty ignition well. Within seconds, the car started.
She stared at James, her lips a thin line. "I'm not waiting for you."
James whipped his head around as he heard the engine of his Jaguar come to life. As he ran around the Porsche, he watched his wife drive away, a madman with a gun in the seat next to her.
No time. He hopped into the passenger's side. "I may need help shifting," Jen said. "Just keep your hand near the shifter, be ready, and pay attention." As James slammed his door, Jen jammed the car into gear and expertly propelled them backward down the long drive. Using a knee to steer and her other leg to clutch or accelerate, she hit the brakes, spun the car, and slammed it into gear, pealing out after Melody. He could see the taillights of his car in the distance.
James looked back and saw two sets of headlights pull out behind them and knew for certain Kurt drove in one of the cars. After a few blocks, Melody shot ahead driving James' Jaguar, and Jen drove the powerful Porsche like the professional she was, keeping James' car in sight, but letting them keep their distance. They saw the Jaguar make a sharp turn, and Jen had to react quickly not to lose them.
"Get closer," James urged.
"Let me work." Jen darted in and out of the evening traffic, driving the low riding sportscar like a NASCAR driver. Driving with her knees, she fast-shifted up and punched the accelerator as she followed them onto the interstate. "Gas is low," Jen observed, gesturing with her chin to the gas gauge. "This isn't good."
He didn't respond. He couldn't. He felt fear start to work its way back to the top again, and tried to get a grip back on the rage.
Pray, he told himself. He wouldn't be any good to her if he couldn't think. Pray, let God help.
Whispering prayers to himself, blue flashing lights caught his attention in the side mirror, and he looked behind him to see two police cars slowly gaining on them. "We're getting some company," he said. "Suarez told them no lights. This must be highway patrol running radar or something."
His phone rang and he pulled it out of his pocket. "Yeah."
"Where are you?" Mike Redman demanded.
"Heading north on eighty-five, just about to go through downtown." He ended the call. "Get closer. They're getting away."
"I got 'em," Jen confirmed. She pushed a little harder on the accelerator.
¯¯¯¯
THINK, Melody told herself. Pray. Slow us down so they can catch up with us.
Rikard took his eyes off her to turn in his seat and look behind them, trying to see if they were being followed. He directed her to the interstate.
Once on it, Melody pushed the car up to ninety, weaving through the traffic, hoping to attract the attention of law enforcement. As they approached downtown Atlanta, she spotted the police lights in her rearview mirror.
Now's the time, she thought, while help can still get to me. Concrete walls lined the road, blocking downtown from the noise of the busy interstate. She'd always hated them, but now she blessed them as she moved the car to the far lane.
She put her hand on the gearshift. "You know what, Richard?" she said. He looked at her with a manic look in his eyes. "I think I'm going to try something stupid."
She reached over and pushed the release button on his seat belt, simultaneously downshifting and yanking the wheel, turning the car ninety degrees. She hit the accelerator again, flooring it. The rear tires squealed and smoked all around the car. When the tires caught traction, the car rocketed across six lanes of traffic as Melody drove James' sports car straight toward the wall like a dart toward a bulls-eye.
Richard tried to re-hook his seat belt, screaming at her to stop, and trying to grab the wheel from her at the same time. He didn't move fast enough. At the last second, she jerked the wheel, angling her side of the car away from the wall.
Instinctively, she shielded her face with her arms, drew her legs out from under the dash, and hit the concrete wall nearly head-on at fifty-eight miles per hour.
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CHAPTER 35
JAMES and Jen saw the brake lights as their hot-wired Porsche sped toward the Jaguar doing close to 100 miles per hour. Jen tapped the brakes of the Porsche and jerked the wheel, narrowly missing hitting the back of the XKE as it shot past the front of the car. She nearly lost control, sending the rear into a skid. It took all of her skill to recover.
When they came out of it, Melody was about twenty yards behind them and headed toward the concrete wall, cutting across the lanes of traffic. James watched as cars slammed on brakes and turned wheels hard to avoid hitting the Jaguar as the car plowed head on into the concrete wall. The sound of the impact hit them like artillery. They heard metal ripping like a sheet. It sounded like a hailstorm on a tin roof. The driver's side front wheel flew past them like a meteor before hitting the pavement and skidding to a stop in a shower of tortured sparks more than 90 feet away.
James heard his own anguished cry as he ripped the car door open and ran toward the wrecked car. Headlights blinded him and he heard brakes squealing as oncoming cars came to sudden stops. Something brushed his leg, but he didn't recognize it as the bumper of one car that narrowly avoided hitting him.
When he reached the Jaguar with Jen right at his side, he headed straight for the driver's door. His hands slipped as he tried to open it, until he was finally able to wrench it wide. He had to use quite a bit of force to pry the door open against the crumpled metal of the fender. He knelt down, afraid of what he was going to find, his hands shaking as he pushed the airbag out of the way. He looked up and saw Richard Johnson collapsed against his air bag. The man had hit the windshield and his left arm looked severely broken.
"He's out," Jen said from behind him. "I can't get the door open."
Melody sat leaning back in the seat, her eyes closed and her body limp. He grabbed her wrist and almost cried with relief when he felt a pulse.
Jen yelled to the approaching police to call an ambulance, and knelt down next to James.
"Is she alive?" she asked, the question little more than a hopeful whisper. James nodded, afraid to speak. Jen shook her head sharply and said, "We don't want to move her, Mr. Montgomery."
James nodded. He carefully wiped some blood off Melody's forehead, then picked up her hand and kissed it. Melody moaned and moved her head, then opened her eyes with a start. She saw Rikard and started sobbing.
"Are you hurt?" James demanded, his voice low and urgent. "Is anything broken?"
Melody shook her head. "I don't think so."
James unhooked her seat belt and reached into the car to gingerly wrap his arms around her. In response, Melody threw her arms around his neck. "Oh, baby."
"I didn't know what else to do," she sobbed. "He was going to kill me." Shocky, now, she shook so badly her teeth rattled. "I promised you I wasn't going anywhere," she said with a tremulous laugh, "I had to do something."
Suddenly, she pushed against him, fought his hold until she leaned over and started gagging. Talking past the lump in his throat, holding her hair back out of the way, James said, "It's okay, baby. You did exactly the right thing."
She sat back and took deep breaths. "Get me out of here." She started fighting him again when he tried to hold her still. "Please, get me away from him."
He would have held her down if her voice hadn't hitched at the end, if her eyes weren't glazed with panic. Instead, he carefully pulled her out of the car and stood so that he could hold her in his arms.
"I'm sorry I wrecked your car," she said, her whole body shaking.
He smiled, "You can buy me a new one." She buried her face in his chest and laughed before she started crying.
Jen re-holstered her pistol and pulled her phone out of her pocket. She engaged a call a second before Suarez and Roberts pulled up, driving along the median. They jumped out of the car and flashed badges at the highway patrol who arrived at the scene. Jen walked over to talk with the gathering of law enforcement officials. A uniformed police officer cautiously approached the Jaguar.
"I was so scared," Melody confessed, her breath hitching. She whipped her head around at the sound of a gunshot and screamed when the uniformed police officer by the car dropped behind the rear of the vehicle and drew his pistol.
Melody screamed, "No!" as James spun her, completely shielding her with his body.
Rikard had his gun pointed in their direction as he crawled out of the car through the driver's door. His face had been ripped open by contact with the windshield. Bloody bits of broken glass glistened wetly in his dark hair. His right eye appeared to have been severely traumatized. His left arm, apparently snapped by the impact, twisted up beneath his body at an odd angle as he pulled himself along by his knees and his right elbow. He spit blood from his mouth and wheezed.
A Melody for James (Christian Suspense) Page 30
