Expired Game (Last Chance County Book 5)

by Lisa Phillips

  “But if you don’t get this done,” the dark figure gestured off to the side, “my friend here...?” His voice trailed off. At least, Ted assumed it was a man. The build was wrong for most women. Or maybe he was just a sexist jerk who knew nothing about the varieties of femininity. His head hurt too much to figure out the answer.

  The man in the room with him reached into his jacket and pulled a gun from a holster under his arm. He pointed the Glock at Ted.

  Not wanting to stare down the barrel at his demise—again, since the same thing had happened multiple times today—he instead looked at the screen of the computer, which now showed the program for the database.

  Ted clicked with one finger, using the laptop mousepad, and discovered the caller he was on video chat with had remotely connected to this computer. He could potentially control anything and everything Ted tried to do here, overriding any attempt to communicate with anyone. Or block his attempt to destroy or expose the database.

  So he was tech savvy enough to know he should keep tabs on Ted’s activity. But did he have enough knowledge to know everything Ted was about to do and what it meant?

  And how much did Ted want to risk?

  “Get in your backdoor. Create admin credentials for me, and delete all of Sally Peters’ access through the login on the screen.” That text scrolled across the bottom again.

  He had no choice but to do this. Ted could add extra code to make sure he could get in later. And he always had the copy he’d put on that flash drive.

  Wherever it was.

  He looked at the gunman who pulled something from his back pocket with his free hand. “Looking for this?” Ted’s phone was in the evidence bag along with the flash drive. “I disabled the GPS, so don’t think anyone’s going to be able to find you.”

  Were they going to kill him when he was done here?

  Not for the first time today did he wonder if dying might not solve a lot of his problems. Not Dean’s or Jess’s or the police department’s, as they would all be left with the repercussions of his actions. It would be suicide. They would find out everything. He would only be trying to escape his own guilt.

  He stared at the flash drive. Things were unraveling. Instead of helping the case, it had suddenly grown even more complicated.

  He was going to have to fix this as well.

  “Get on with it!” The gunman lurched toward him, shoving the Glock right up against Ted’s cheek.

  “Okay.” He held up both hands. “Give me a second to figure this out.”

  He ran his hands down his face, scrubbing them on his cheeks. Being careful of his wrist which felt broken. Tears gathered in his eyes, but Ted sniffed them away. Crying wasn’t going to win him any points with these guys. They thought he was a pawn. Just like his father had.

  Ever since the Chief offered him a job instead of jail time, Ted had tried to live like he was in control of his own life. That wasn’t true, though, was it? He only had to look around to know he lived in a world among people who thought they could use him for whatever they wanted.

  “The clock is ticking,” the man in the room with him said. “And I figure you can still type with a bullet in your leg.”

  Ted stared at him.

  “Get on with it.”

  He turned to the computer and figured just doing this was his best chance of surviving. If no one was able to find him, and he did this job, would they find his body later? West had lasted this long not allowing anyone to get any information on him. He’d remained maddeningly elusive so far.

  Ted’s background made him more like West than the good guy he tried to be every day. Sooner or later that would backfire. Everyone would find out that even the former chief had been wrong about him. He was nothing but a fraud who’d managed to hide the truth from them for years.

  No matter how much he tried to be the man Chief Ridgeman thought he was, or could be, Ted was a low-life.

  A lackey for the criminal underworld.

  No point denying it. Or trying to hide it. Everyone would know. All the cases he’d worked on would be suspect. Criminals would go free on technicalities. He would have to live with the fallout of trying to do the right thing and come clean with the fact he’d lied.

  He was better at this.

  While he typed, the man in the room with him pulled Ted’s phone out of the evidence bag. He tossed the bag onto the coffee table. The flash drive still inside hit the wood, sounding like the crack of plastic.

  Ted winced.

  “Something important?” The gunman eyed him.

  Ted looked back at the computer like it was nothing, even though he’d given away the fact that flash drive was something. More leverage.

  He hit a few keys, one handed, holding his injured wrist across his lap. If he was rescued before he could finish? Well, that would be too bad.

  The gunman tapped and swiped his phone. He grunted. Then he grabbed Ted’s injured wrist. He cried out. The gunman held his thumb against the screen, and there was nothing Ted could do about it.

  Then he held his gun against Ted’s chin and took a picture. “That’s good. You look pretty scared. She’ll probably tear out of that police station in a rush to come and save you.” He chuckled and strode away. “This is gonna be fun.”

  Ted stared at the man.

  What was he going to do?

  Nine

  Jess’s phone buzzed. She stepped away from the group conversation to check it, just in case it was Ted. Or someone with information. She’d texted a couple of contacts asking around. One was a confidential informant she utilized on occasion. The other was a high-school-age kid, the son of a local criminal she’d met doing undercover work recently.

  She brushed back the fall of her dark hair and unlocked her phone. Her appointment to return her hair to its natural blonde wasn’t for two more weeks.

  All thoughts of her looks evaporated as she stared at the incoming text.

  “Everything okay?”

  Jess nodded in answer to Mia’s question but didn’t look at her lieutenant. Otherwise Mia would realize everything was definitely not okay.

  She moved to the break room and leaned against the countertop before she looked at it again.

  Ted. With a gun to his chin. Underneath it, the following words:

  Tell no one, or he dies.

  Followed by instructions. A time and a place. She looked at the clock on the wall. Half an hour? That was hardly any time at all, and they wanted her to be there. Too soon for Conroy to mobilize everyone, scout out the area, and set up an operation to take down whoever this was. Or was there enough time? Ted’s life was on the line. They had to at least try, didn’t they?

  She strode out of the break room. “Conroy?”

  Tell no one. Were they watching even now? That might be how they got to Ted in the first place, because someone in the police department gave him up.

  “What is it, Jess?” Conroy held his phone away from his mouth. “I’m getting an update from the FBI right now.”

  She looked around at the people here. Had one of them given Ted up? His father had escaped. The old man was out there, and he’d used the name West as an alias. That was far too much of a coincidence to not be relevant. Or the real West had told him to use it as a way to rub it in their faces.

  They couldn’t catch him. Or so far they hadn’t, at least.

  So was this West or Ted’s father? It made her sick to think his dad would put a gun to his own kid’s head. More relevant might be the fact he probably hadn’t had time to get all the way to Last Chance from wherever he escaped the FBI—at least, not in time to kidnap his son.

  “Do you have anything?”

  She spun to find Dean standing there. “I…” She didn’t know what to say. Tell no one. But Ted’s older brother was a former SEAL. He wouldn’t bring this to the police if she asked him to keep them out of it.

  If she really was going to go it alone.

  “What, Jess?”

  “I’m just w
orried about Ted. I don’t want anything to happen to him.” No matter what she did, and what the outcome was, he needed to know that.

  “We’re all worried.”

  “This has to be about West.”

  Dean tipped his head to the side. “You think?”

  “If I was allowed to talk to Sally, I think I could prove it. After all, they targeted us earlier.”

  “We don’t know it’s related. Do we?”

  They also didn’t know it wasn’t. She was tempted to remind Dean that out of the two of them, only one was a cop. Her.

  Before she could say anything, Dean patted her shoulder awkwardly. “He’s going to be okay. As soon as we have a location, we can go get him.” He let his hand drop. “One of Zander’s men is trying to find GPS on either Ted’s watch or his cell phone, but it’s taking time. The FBI will be here in about ninety minutes. We’ll find him.”

  She didn’t even know what to say to that. It would be too late.

  She had to get out of here without arousing suspicion, or whoever took Ted might follow through on their threat to hurt him. If she went, would she be able to save him? Or would she end up drawn into a plan to get something from her in exchange for him?

  Dean wandered off. Conroy was on his call, still. She wanted them to realize she wasn’t okay—so she could encourage them to follow her. To track her phone and be led to Ted’s location.

  But no one paid her any attention.

  All she could do was hedge, unless she just came out and said it plainly. They’d follow her. No. There was too much risk with that plan. Whoever had Ted might be watching the police station. They’d see the activity if everyone suddenly left right after she did.

  Jess had to do this herself.

  She quietly grabbed her car keys from her locker and sent a text reply.

  What do you want?

  She wasn’t going to stand around. And she wasn’t going to go in blind. She needed information.

  There had to be a way for her to get the help she needed while keeping the fact she’d tried to reach out to her colleagues to herself, so that whoever was behind this didn’t find out. She couldn’t wait for the FBI. That would take too long. Dean could help. He certainly had the skills. Stuart was pretty much a loose cannon as well as a former clandestine agent and current food prep guy at the diner. But he’d taken Kaylee and gone, “off the grid,” whatever that meant.

  The reply came a few seconds later.

  A trade. You have twenty-five minutes.

  He wasn’t going to tell her what he wanted. She had to show up to find out. Going in blind didn’t sit right with her. It also didn’t make her any less determined to do exactly what he was asking. For the sake of Ted’s life, she would do anything. He didn’t need to know that. Or maybe he was counting on it.

  Earlier today, someone had tried to kill them. That had been part of the bank robbery plan, but it had gone wrong. They’d foiled that plot. Sally was in custody.

  Did they still need to die?

  This could be about West needing both her and Ted murdered, so they’d no longer be a problem. The coincidence factor once again. This time, the idea made her want to smile. Good. She wanted to be a problem for the biggest bad guy in town. A big enough problem he thought she should be murdered because she was determined to bring him down.

  Or she knew more than she thought, and that knowledge made her a threat.

  But what could that be?

  Jess pulled on a bulletproof vest, armed herself, slid her jacket over it, and zipped it up. It would be pretty obvious what she had on. Unless she snuck out the back way.

  Sending everything to Dean’s phone was a risk. A serious risk. She’d have to pray they weren’t in her phone and couldn’t see who she told. If she disobeyed their orders and Ted died because of it, would she ever forgive herself?

  She bit her lip. Maybe there was a better way to get the word out. She just needed to figure out what that was. Ted was always the one who worked out those technological problems. Jess could talk her way into any group, gang, or organization. She could don any persona and get information for the police department.

  None of that was going to come in handy right now, not when it counted more than it ever had. As it stood, she’d have to take this guy down herself. Kill him, probably. She’d taken a life before. It wasn’t something she wanted to do again, but if it was going to be her or someone else, then she would defend herself with lethal force. After she knew Ted was still alive.

  Jess headed out of the locker room.

  Bill stood in the hall, stretching out his legs. The dispatcher was sixty-four and as spry as any of them. He was just a little…grizzled. And four inches shorter than her. “Jess.”

  “Hey.”

  She saw the moment he realized she was leaving—and that her jacket was too big. Bill always knew when any of them were up to something. She couldn’t say the same about him, though. He acted cordial enough, but what did they really know about him?

  If someone in the police department was working for West, it could just as easily be Bill as anyone. Maybe it was even more plausible.

  He lifted a bushy white brow. “Can’t wait for the FBI?”

  “Please don’t tell Conroy.” She looked at the time on her phone. “Not for twenty minutes or so.” She touched her hands together in prayer position in front of her, the cell phone smashed between them. “Please.”

  He pressed his lips together and worked his jaw around. It looked painful, and she thought she heard some clicking.

  Jess winced. “I have to go.”

  “Do you have a way to find Ted?”

  “I hope so.”

  He studied her. “Do you need backup? I can call Donaldson.”

  Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. Donaldson might be younger than her, and the rookie of the department, but he was a good cop. And a solid guy.

  “I’ll enable the GPS on my phone. If I don’t text you in half an hour, can you track me and send him?”

  Bill nodded. “He’s on shift, so I’ll try not to assign him anything that might come in. Unless I think it’s you.”

  “Thanks.”

  He shrugged like it was no big deal when they both knew that, in some situations, protection in the form of backup could save a life. This department had been through enough in the last few months to make them all aware of that.

  She headed out the back door, her stride fast enough it discouraged the officer just arriving from doing more than wave.

  She nodded, then picked up her pace to jog to her car. The place he wanted her to go was a state park. The bottom of a trail, gravel for a parking lot. One roofed sign with a map indicating where the trails led. She and Ted had mountain biked up there a few times. She preferred that to biking or walking in town. Anywhere she could get away from the every day and do something different.

  Would they get the chance to do it again?

  Her phone rang as she drove. It was Mia. What did she want? Calling to check up on her or because Conroy asked her to find Jess? She didn’t answer it.

  The parking lot was empty. Night had fallen hours ago. This was pretty much the longest day of her life so far. And considering it might be her last day of life on this earth, maybe that was fitting and God was giving her the gift of each of these last minutes.

  She got out of her car, shut the door, and leaned against it. Waiting. Nothing happened.

  Almost five minutes later, another car pulled in. She memorized the plate number but didn’t risk texting it to Bill. The driver would see.

  As he put his car in park, she wondered if this was the spider web tattoo guy. He might have seemed nice enough for a bad guy, but for all she knew, he could be working for West. Trying to fake her out. Whatever thoughts she’d previously had about his allegiances didn’t play into this situation.

  He opened his door, but the dome light in the car didn’t come on. A hood shrouded his face.

  Fear walked with cold fingers up he
r spine. This wasn’t good.

  Jess tensed, her fingers itching to reach for her gun. Inside her car, her phone began to ring.

  He strode toward her but stopped at least ten feet away.

  “Where is Ted? I need to know he’s still alive.”

  “He’s alive.” The voice was gruff, and not one she recognized. “Ted works for us now.”

  Then he lifted a gun and fired it at her.

  Ten

  The gunshot sounded muffled. Ted blinked, realizing he’d been knocked out again. This time by some kind of stun gun. He groaned and sat up.

  You did it too fast.

  Like it was his problem the job that West had him do had taken less than ten minutes? He’d tried to drag it out as long as possible, but typing one fingered just to go as slowly as possible wasn’t something he was capable of doing.

  Now it was over. He’d done exactly what West wanted him to do—with a little of his own magic added to the program. If he could find a way to access it from a remote location, he’d be able to get inside.

  If.

  Just the idea of all the finagling he’d have to do to make it work gave him a headache. Or he just had a headache.

  Considering the version of the database he had on that flash drive didn’t include the latest update he’d just been forced to make, it was virtually useless except as evidence after the fact. A history of what they’d done, and who was involved. It could be used to make their case. Conroy would likely consider it a win. Ted wasn’t so sure he could be positive about it. It wouldn’t tell them who West was or where to find him.

  Ted blinked again and realized he was staring at the torn material on the roof of a car. He sat up. Hands bound. Fire. His wrist, it felt like fire. The sensation made him double over, hissing because the last thing he wanted was to go through those dry heaves all over again. It had been bad enough the first time.

  He groaned, laying back down on the backseat of whoever’s car this was. He heard a muffled thud, and a man cried out. He realized he could hear fighting.

  Figured. The kidnapper gunman guy—whoever he was—currently stood with his back to the car, struggling with someone. Hopefully they’d hurt him. Or kill him.