by Mia Carson
Nick always texted him back.
“I guess we’ll get you downtown,” Manny said, turning off the TV.
Tim tried calling Chris when they were in Manny’s car, but it went straight to voicemail. Silence filled the car, both men’s anxiety clear. When they’d reached the building and stepped out, Tim looked for Ernie, the evening security guard, but he wasn’t at the front door. He went on duty at five when people started to head home for the night.
“Tim?”
“The night guard—he’s usually at the door.”
“Maybe he had to hit the bathroom.”
“Maybe.” Now, Tim was being paranoid. Nothing was wrong. They would walk inside and Chris would be there, waiting for him to guide her to Sal’s office. They’d arrest the guy, get a lead on the other man they were after, and everyone would go home happy.
They were barely a few steps inside the lobby when Tim’s feet refused to keep moving. This wasn’t right. His gaze shot around the lobby, and he spotted a hand peeking out from around the corner.
“Ernie!” he yelled and sprinted over to the man’s prone body.
Manny was right behind him, his hand on his radio when he grunted and sank to the floor, his eyes crossing. Another loud thud hit him hard, and he collapsed in an unconscious heap. Tim reached for Manny’s gun, but another figure appeared out of the corner of his eye. A heavy object whacked him on the back of the head and everything went black as he fell, hitting the floor hard.
Chapter 13
Chris drew out her phone. No signal in the house. She needed to step outside and call Tim to let him know she would be home eventually. The house was nearly emptied of everything, all of which was being loaded to take back to the station. Sarge had given her permission to help with this part as long as she stayed at the station and didn’t tear off across the city to go after Dowell herself.
“What are they doing here?”
“Who?” She peered out the front window. “Is that Tony?”
“And the other car. I didn’t call them here,” Merriweather muttered as he stepped outside.
Chris stayed in the house, filling one of the final boxes with the photographs of her and Tim. She wanted to burn them and forget she ever saw them hanging on the wall of a murderer’s shanty. She heard Merriweather’s yell, and she straightened to watch as he smashed his fingers on his cell and yelled into the phone. Chris stepped around the boxes to go outside and join him when a loud click resounded around the bedroom.
“What was that?” one of the other officers asked.
“I’m not sure,” she mused. A beeping followed, and Merriweather yelled her name from outside. If the cops were pulled away from the apartment, then Tim was left alone with Manny and they were here…at an abandoned house. “Get out!” she yelled. “Move! Everyone outside—”
The explosion ripped through the floor of the house, and Chris hit the ground hard, rolling into one of the squad cars parked nearby. Deafened from the blast, she frowned when Merriweather knelt in front of her, his lips moving, but she couldn’t hear a word he said. She fumbled for his arm, trying to drag herself up, but he didn’t let her stand. The house and whatever was left in it was a burning hole in the ground.
“Did they make it out?” she asked, not really hearing her own voice.
He nodded and she sagged against the car. Her back screamed in pain and her head throbbed. She was really tired of people trying to blow her up.
“Chris? Can you hear me?” Merriweather asked, and she heard him though it sounded like she had cotton in her ears. She nodded and he helped her to her feet. “Manny and Tim, they left your apartment.”
“What? Where the hell did they go?” she yelled louder than she meant to.
“Tony said Tim received a text from you saying to meet us downtown.”
“Shit, shit!” She fumbled with her cell, finally with signal, and saw missed calls from Tim along with a few messages. “Who texted him?”
“I don’t know, but Tony said they also got a message from me saying to come here.”
Chris shook her head and tried to walk towards Sarge’s vehicle, but she stumbled and nearly fell. He caught her by the shoulders and forced her to sit back down. “We can’t stay here. He lured them there. If anything happens to him…”
“It won’t. I’ll send a few cars over there, but you must stay here and get yourself checked out. Do not move your ass from that curb,” he commanded.
She bobbed her head, wincing at the pain, but the second he was far enough away, she staggered to Tony, holding out her hand. “Keys, I need them.”
“Did Sarge clear you to go?”
“Yes, but he has to stay here. Come on, Tony, help a girl out.”
He frowned but walked to his car. “Fine, but I’m driving. You were just blown up, crazy woman.”
“Whatever. Just get there and hurry up.”
She slid into the passenger seat. Tony pulled away from the curb and flipped on his lights, speeding towards downtown. Her phone rang shrilly, and she groaned when she saw Merriweather’s number.
“You going to answer that?” Tony asked.
“Nope, no need.”
He pursed his lips when a yell came through his radio a few seconds after her phone stopped ringing. “Tony! Is she with you?”
“Don’t you dare,” she uttered when he reached for the radio.
“Yeah, she is,” Tony said. “We’re on our way downtown.”
“Christine Harrison, you are suspended, do you hear me? You are not to enter that building until I get there. Tony, I don’t give a damn if you have to handcuff her, but you are not to let her go in there alone.”
“Understood, sir,” he replied and set his radio back down. “Damn it, Chris. You trying to get my ass in trouble, too?”
“I’m not staying in the car,” she said, un-holstering her gun and checking the magazine.
“Yeah, I got that much. You’re also not going in there alone.”
“No, you’re not risking your life, too. He’s my boyfriend, and I’m going to save his ass without getting anyone else hurt,” she insisted. “You can wait outside for Sarge. Say I knocked you out.”
Tony barked a laugh. “He might be your boyfriend, but I’m your friend.” The car squealed to a stop outside the building behind Manny’s vehicle. “Want to go in the front?”
“There’s a back door and a dock. They might be watching the cameras.”
“Where’s Manny when you need a distraction?” he muttered. “Do you want to risk it?”
“We don’t have a choice. The longer we stay out here, the better chance Dowell has to kill Tim, and I will not lose another person I care about.”
She climbed out of the car, yelling at the people on the sidewalk to get back. Tony hurried to the trunk and tossed her a vest. She slipped it over her head, tightening the buckles as he did the same before they darted down the alleyway. When they reached the corner of the building, she peered around and saw a camera hovering over both doors. Tony nudged her and handed her a hunk of concrete from the ground. Praying she made the hit, she pitched it at the camera and it shattered, falling to the ground in pieces.
“Move,” he murmured, and with him covering her back, Chris raced to the door. It was locked, but with three good kicks, the door busted inward. She caught it right before it hit the wall, crouching low. She waved for Tony and he sprinted to her side. “Lights?”
“No, we’ll try to do without.”
Keeping low and her gun aimed before her, she moved through the loading dock until they reached a door leading into a long hall. They followed it, the dim overnight lights guiding their way. A double door at the end had a sign directing them to the lobby. She picked up the earpiece from her cell and stuck it in her ear before Tony and she carefully opened one of the doors. The lobby was empty and the lights from Tony’s vehicle out front lit up the space. The space appeared empty, and with their heads swiveling, they stepped to the stairs, not wanting to use th
e elevator and alert whoever was there of their presence.
“Camera, two o’clock,” Tony whispered behind her.
“See it. Too late.”
The camera was angled and they might not show up on the screen, but she couldn’t tell for sure. They were running out of time. Her heart racing and palms sweaty for fear of finding Tim’s dead body, she propped the staircase door open as Tony stepped inside, both checking the other’s back as they stepped in and let the heavy door close silently behind them.
“Tim’s office is on the sixth floor,” she told him.
“Of course it is,” he sighed. “I’m glad I missed my workout this morning.”
Chris cringed when she stepped up on the metal stairs, her heavy boots making it nearly impossible to be quiet. She listened for any doors opening, but they remained alone. She moved farther up, one flight at a time, Tony watching her back the entire way up. When they neared the sixth floor, she held up her hand to stop Tony from moving past her.
“Chris, please, for the love of God, tell me you have your radio on,” Merriweather’s voice whispered in her ear. She tapped the earpiece so it would beep once for yes. “Where are you?” She tapped it twice for no, hoping he would understand she couldn’t talk. “Near Tim?”
She tapped two again saying she was unsure, but waited for Merriweather to catch on they were on their way up to his office. “Right, his office is on the sixth floor. You think that’s where he is?”
She tapped once, quickly, then ducked low, dragging Tony down with her. A shadow blocked the slim bar of light from the sixth floor as someone moved past the door. She held her breath, her finger slipping to the trigger on her Glock. Five seconds passed, then ten, and nothing. She lifted her head enough to see through the window. The hall was empty.
“Stairs or elevator?” She tapped once for stairs. “Front or back?” Twice for the rear entrance. “Can you tell how many are there?”
Again, she tapped twice and added a third, hoping he would stop asking questions and let her get moving again.
“We’re coming in after you—small groups, keeping it quiet.”
She tapped one final time saying she understood then reached her hand up to the door handle. Tony repositioned himself so he could see if someone were on the other side, and nodded. Biting her tongue to focus on anything but her rising nerves, she opened the door slowly. Tony stepped out of the stairwell, tapping her arm as an okay for her to follow.
Out of the safety of the stairwell, Chris pressed her back to the wall, slinking along in the shadows. He grabbed her arm hard, and she spotted the shadow moving towards them. Quickly, they slipped into the open door of an office nearby, closing the door as the shadow moved past them. How many goons did Simone have up here with him? She chanced a glance, spying the back of a rather large man carrying a handgun, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail. Tony motioned for them to move, but she held up her hand to wait. Another figure met with ponytail a ways down the hall, and then another. Mentally cursing, Chris held up three fingers and swirled her finger, telling him they were all clustered together.
Tim had told her very little about this building, but she knew his office faced south. From the way the last bit of sun hit the building, they were on the eastern side. She crouched lower and flattened her hand, turning it to the left. He nodded once in understanding. Praying the goons would stay to their right, she snuck out of the office and tapped Tony’s arm so he could move out behind her. She kept the men in her sights until they came to another break in the hallway.
“Chris,” Merriweather said through her ear. She flinched, cursing Sarge for scaring her half to death. “Numbers yet?”
She waited until she and Tony took cover behind a cubicle at the far end of the wall away from the main walking path before she tapped her earpiece three times.
“Is that all?”
She tapped it twice and sighed when he didn’t ask anything else.
Tony caught her attention and held up the nightstick from his belt. If they were going to reach Tim and whomever held him without drawing attention, they would have to knock the goons out quietly. She didn’t have a nightstick, but she had her fists and a knife at her lower back if need be. Readying herself for the fight, she listened to the heavy stomping feet of the goons as they separated. One of them moved towards their position.
Chris closed her eyes, evening out her breathing as the man moved closer and closer still. Tony crept along the cubicle walls as she circled around to cover the man’s back. He didn’t see her coming, and she drove her elbow hard into the base of his skull. He fell with a grunt. Tony whacked him over the head with his nightstick, and the man slumped to the floor. They dragged his body out of sight, gagging him with duct tape she found in a drawer nearby and handcuffing him to the cubicle. It wouldn’t hold him forever, but all they needed were a few minutes.
One down, two to go. We’re coming for you, Tim, just hold on, she thought as she and Tony moved across the sixth floor and imagined anything other than finding she was too late again.
Voices whispered nearby, and Tim blinked as he regained consciousness. His head felt heavy and his vision was blurry when he tried to raise it to look around him.
“Now there he is,” a familiar male voice said brightly. “Jones? Can you hear me, Jones?”
“Sal?” He squinted and the room finally righted itself. “My office?”
“Yes. I thought it would be a fitting touch.”
Tim tugged at his arms, but they were tied to a chair behind his back. A grunt sounded beside him, and he saw Manny boasting a fresh black eye and dried blood at his temple. He, too, was tied to a chair, and poor Ernie was still unconscious, bound and gagged on the floor.
“Tim.”
“Shit, Nick?” He tried to see, but Nick was behind him and out of his field of vision. “You all right?”
“I think so, but they broke my arm,” he snapped.
“If you hadn’t struggled, we wouldn’t have had a problem,” Sal scolded him.
“What do you want, huh? You want the money? You already have it, I’m guessing. Just take it and leave us alone,” Tim ranted.
“If that was my plan, I would consider it. However, I’m not working alone.”
Tim frowned, tugging at his arms to try and free them when Maya and a man he recognized stepped inside his office. “You? You’re his brother?”
The man grinned, Maya hanging off his arm. “Hello, Tim, long time no see.”
The room spun again and Tim was sure he would be sick. The man who stood before him was the pilot who flew the plane his parents crashed in. “I don’t… how… why?” he finally settled on hotly. “Did you mean to kill them? Did you?”
“Oh, Tim.” The man he once knew as Vincent sighed as he walked closer. “I had no intention of killing your parents, not at first, but when your father refused to meet my demands for helping him, well, I had to tie up loose ends. And there you were, all heartbroken, ready to take up the mantle with the money I gave your parents in the first place.”
“No,” he argued. “No, that’s not right. They earned that. They saved it for years!”
“Fabricated, all of it,” Simone corrected with glee. “Your father worked under my brother at his old company. We hoped we could turn him, use him for what we needed, but he grew a conscience. He nearly ruined everything.”
Tim’s chest heaved, and he glared fiercely at the man, not willing to believe the lies spewing from his mouth. His dad had never met Sal. Tim would have remembered. But the money his parents had set aside, he swore the lawyer had told him where it came from. They earned it by legal means.
“Why? Why would you have given him that money?” he asked.
“That was how I paid all my loyal employees for helping me embezzle from clients,” Simone explained. “My brother has managed to keep our connection secret all these years, and we have used it to our advantage.”
His dad worked for a crook and a murderer? In his mind,
he refused to believe it, yet he remembered the odd hours his dad had worked, the random trips out of town. The bonuses he earned on an irregular basis…
“Holy shit,” he whispered as the life his dad had lived clicked into place in a horrifying image.
“Yes, he was quite the man, but I suppose his wife and you changed him,” Simone said sadly. “I couldn’t let him simply walk away, not with what he knew, so yes, I crashed a plane and killed them.”
Manny cursed beside him, yelling at Simone, but Tim couldn’t hear anything else. His mind raced as his life fell apart around him. Everything he’d known about his parents, about his dad’s dreams, was all bullshit. And Sal was in on it the whole time, the reason he’d agreed to be a partner for the company and had tried to push Tim out. They wanted their investment back—all of it, with interest.
“If you had done me the favor of letting that car hit you on Saturday, we could have ended this in a much less messy fashion. However, I did always enjoy a good show.” Simone clapped his hands. and Tim watched him smile insanely.
“She’s going to catch you,” he spat. “She’s going to hunt you down and destroy you.”
“Who? Detective Harrison? Yes, she has been quite the thorn in my side,” he agreed hotly. “I’d hoped four years ago when I murdered her lover she would stay away, but sadly, I wasn’t that lucky. This time, however, she may very well destroy herself when she sees what has happened to you.”
Tim glanced around, searching for a way out of this, when he noticed Manny’s hands behind his back. His wrists were red and raw from rubbing, but the knot was pulling loose. Manny winked at him and shook his head subtly. A few more minutes and the large detective might be free enough to go after one of them. Simone, though, had a gun at his hip and Sal held one in his hands. Maya was the only one unarmed, ignoring them all as if they were nothing more than piles of trash waiting to be removed.
To think he’d actually felt a sliver of emotion for her at one point.
“If we’re going to make this work, we’ll have to position them all as if they were trying to stop him,” Simone said loudly, and Tim turned his gaze back to the man running the show.
