Shepherd's Fall

by W. L. Dyson

  If she lived though this.

  She had no idea who these men were or what they wanted, and it was not knowing that was really, really making her scared. Would they shoot her? Probably. They had guns. Then they'd probably throw her body out in a field or something. Then the wild animals would find her.

  She started to whimper as her mind took her down a path that was more terrifying than being tied up in the back of the van with two very mean-looking men. Now she was alive. On that path down the road, she was dead. She had to think of a way to escape.

  A short time later, they had parked the van. At that point, she thought for sure she was going to die. So when they opened the back of the van, she was poised and ready to fight. When one of the men tried to pick her up, she kicked out with her feet, catching him in the chin. Cursing, he grabbed her flailing legs and hauled her out of the van. She hit the ground, and the pain jarred up her spine, stunning her into compliance long enough for the man to pick her up and toss her over his shoulder. They went through the back door of a building and into a small, closet-sized room.

  Then she was tossed down on some kind of blanket. It was a bit scratchy and looked like maybe it was used for shipping stuff.

  “One more bit of trouble out of you, kid, and you won't live long enough for your daddy to know you're even missing. You get my drift?”

  Glaring up at him, she just lay there, wishing she had a gun. Or a knife. But mostly, she really, really wished her dad would come storming through the door, guns blazing, and rescue her. But then she remembered that he hadn't saved Lisa. So maybe he couldn't save her either.

  Her life was over. Curling up in a ball, she let the tears come and with them, the sobs, the self-pity, and the fear.

  16

  Saturday, 3:48 a.m.

  An alley near the Stark Lily, Park Heights, Baltimore

  Conner groaned. It took a few moments for him get beyond the drumming of the headache and think. And remember the incident in the club's hall.

  He rolled to his side and groaned again. Blinking, he could see that it was still dark and that he was in an alley somewhere. It took every ounce of his strength to get to a sitting position. He gingerly touched the back of his head, and his fingers came away sticky with blood.

  The pain sent a flash of memory through his mind: his famous barbed wire battle with The Rock at Madison Square Garden. The Rock went to hit him with a chair, and as Conner slipped on a drop of sweat on the floor, the chair came down at the base of his skull, drawing blood and giving him a headache to end all headaches.

  Wiping the blood off on his jeans, he looked around. It looked like he was in the alley behind the shoe repair store, which meant he was just a block away from the Stark Lily. And his truck.

  He felt his pockets and was reassured that his keys and wallet were still there. As he put his hand out to steady himself to stand, it landed on something soft. He picked it up. It was his leather jacket. And his wig. He almost felt a laugh bubbling up. Nice of them to remember that. Not that it had done any good.

  He slowly eased the jacket on and then got to his feet.

  Staggering like a drunk, he used the wall to steady himself and make his way out of the alley. Yep, there was the pharmacy. He was right. He limped up the street. He found his truck right where he'd left it. But the parking lot was empty. He glanced down at his watch, angling it into the light from a streetlamp and saw that it was almost four in the morning.

  He'd been passed out for almost six hours. God only knew what had happened in that time. He had to get to Nick.

  He climbed into his SUV and rested his forehead on the steering wheel for a second, then pulled the door closed.

  He lifted the console and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Steven. As soon as Steven answered, Conner gave him the short version of the story and told him to call Rafe.

  “Where are you?” Steven asked.

  “On my way to Nick's.”

  Saturday, 4:00 a.m.

  Timonium, Maryland

  Steven jumped out of bed and raced to his closet. He pulled out a pair of black jeans, a black pullover, and his black boots. As he headed back to toss the clothes on the bed, there was a knock at the door.

  “Yeah?”

  Marti opened the door and stuck her head in. “What's going on?”

  “Krystal's been taken by Carver. Conner has been hurt. He's on his way to Nick's. We have to get Krystal back.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I'll be dressed and ready to go in a second.”

  She went to close the door.

  “Wait. Marti?”

  She stuck her head back in the door. “What?”

  “You sure you want to do this?”

  She stared at him for a long moment and then lifted her chin. She looked like a warrior arming for battle. “What do you think?”

  Saturday, 4:20 a.m.

  Towson, Maryland

  The drive to Nick's was the longest fifteen minutes of Conner's life. It seemed as though he had hit every red light, but he finally pulled into the driveway and parked next to Nick's SUV.

  He probably should have just called, but there was no way he could give news like this to his boss and friend over the phone. When he got to the door, he knocked and then hit the doorbell a couple of times.

  When he started feeling lightheaded, he leaned his forehead against the doorjamb, trying hard not to pass out. “Come on, Nick. Answer the door.” He hit the doorbell again, jabbing it three times in a row.

  The door opened and Conner shoved his way in, nearly knocking Nick out of the way. He sank down in the nearest chair.

  Nick closed the door. “What's going on?” Then he stared at Conner. “What happened to you?”

  “They have Krystal.”

  “What? How?”

  “Someone made me at the club. They took Krystal. Told me to tell you that no was the wrong answer.”

  Nick went pale as he started to pace. “I expressly forbade her from going to a club and told Jessica to confiscate that ID.”

  “Well, she was there. I'm sorry, Nick. I never saw it coming. I had no idea that they knew who I was and that it was all a setup.”

  “It's not your fault.” Nick picked up the cordless phone from the side table and dialed. “Steven. Get the team together. Meet me at the office.”

  When Nick looked over at him, Conner shrugged. “I already called them.”

  “Yeah. See you in a few.” Nick hung up. “I should have realized you'd have notified everyone. Give me a minute to change.” Then he stopped and looked back at Conner. “Are you sure you're okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

  “I'll be okay. Looks worse than it is.” He took a deep breath when another shaft of pain pierced his brain. “I'm sorry, Nick. I feel like I've let you down.”

  “You didn't. I should have told Jessica about Carver, and I didn't. It's my mistake, not yours.”

  Conner cradled his aching head in his hands while Nick rushed off to get dressed. He'd blown it, and nothing Nick said was going to change that fact.

  Saturday, 4:25 a.m.

  Towson, Maryland

  When Nick came back out to the living room, Conner had been joined by two police officers. One of the officers was Paul Vizeo, a man Nick had once served with on the force. But he was a stickler for the rules, and Nick was too angry to care about red tape.

  “Your brother called us. Tell us what happened.” Paul said.

  Nick sat down in a chair and started lacing his combat boots, going over everything as quickly as he could. “So now Carver has my daughter, and that's one mistake he never should have made.”

  He stood up, tucking his black pullover down into the waist of his pants. “If you want to help, go tell Carver he's a dead man.”

  Vizeo stepped toward Nick, tucking his notebook in his shirt pocket. “I'm really sorry about this, Nick. We'll do all we can, but you know we have no direct proof that Jon Robinson Carver took your daughter, or that his brother Richie did,
even though we don't doubt your word or your instincts.”

  “I know.” Nick pulled on his shoulder holster.

  “We'll go talk to Carver. See what we can find out. In the meantime—”

  “Look, I have paper on one of Carver's men, Tommy Lester. That gives me authority to go in there looking for him. If I happen to find my daughter while I'm at it, well and good. You get my drift?” Nick opened the closet and pulled out his jacket. “You can tell everyone to keep an eye out for Krystal. Leave Carver to me.”

  “Don't do anything stupid, Shepherd. You know what I mean.”

  “Don't worry. Just stay available.”

  “We can do that.”

  Nick and Conner drove to Prodigal's offices in silence. When they arrived, they climbed out of the SUV and headed toward the office. “We look like the walking dead,” Nick said.

  “I know I feel like it,” Conner replied as he pulled the door open.

  The reception area was empty, but someone had made coffee. The smell hit Nick at the door and drew him in.

  Conner sniffed. “I'll go get you a Dew.”

  “Can't fool me. You're headed for that coffeepot.”

  “You know it. I can almost hear it calling to me.”

  Nick stepped into his office. Rafe was on the sofa. Steven was sitting on the edge of Nick's desk, feet swinging.

  And…

  Nick dropped his keys. “Marti.”

  She rose from his desk chair, a wary expression on her face. “Yeah. I heard my niece was in a bit of trouble. Thought I'd ride to the rescue.”

  “Marti,” Nick whispered again, trying to figure out if he was just imagining it. “You're here.”

  “Glad to see you haven't lost your keen observation skills.” A sad smile twisted her lips.

  He walked over. Stared at her a second, registering the little things like how thin she was. She must have known that he was seeing more than she wanted because she dropped her head, shielding herself from any further investigation. He reached out with his good arm and pulled her into a hug. “It's so good to see you. You're too skinny, but it's still good to see you.”

  Marti choked out a little laugh and stepped back out of his embrace. “Yeah, well.”

  “When did you get here?”

  She shrugged. “Couple days ago.”

  He turned and frowned at Steven, who had retreated to the far corner.

  “I wanted to tell you, but she made me promise.” Steven shot a look over at Marti as if begging for help.

  Marti reached out and tapped Nick's arm. “Don't go after him. It was my decision. I had my reasons. They don't matter right now. We have a bigger problem to deal with.”

  “Yes, we do. But then I'm going to have a long talk with both of you.”

  “He hasn't lost his poppa bear attitude, either,” Steven quipped.

  Nick reached over and fired up his computer. “Shall we make our plans?”

  Saturday, 5:07 a.m.

  White Marsh, Maryland

  Jessica opened her eyes and stared up at the ceiling. She'd been tossing and turning for hours and couldn't sleep. Giving up, she rolled out of bed and grabbed her robe, slipping it on as she headed down to make a cup of tea. As she passed Krystal's bedroom door, she eased it open to peek in on her.

  She walked over and turned on the lamp next to Krystal's bed and looked down.

  A doll with brown hair was tucked where Krystal should have lain.

  “Krystal, I'm going to ground you until you're twenty-one.” But then Jessica looked at the clock and realized that it was just after five in the morning. No way would Krystal still be out at this hour. She would have snuck in hours ago.

  Panic. Not again.

  Jessica ran back into her room and picked up the phone. She called Nick's house, but after four rings, it went to the answering machine. “Nick, wake up. Krystal is missing. Call me.”

  Jessica slammed the phone down as she sank to the bed. This couldn't be happening. She picked up the phone again and dialed Nick's cell. No answer. Her hands were shaking so hard that she could barely dial Steven's cell.

  “Hello?”

  “Steven, Jessica. Do you know where Nick is? Krystal's gone. She snuck out again.” She couldn't help the fact that her voice came out part scream and part screech.

  “Hold on. I'll let you talk to Nick.” She could hear all the voices in the background. Nick already knew.

  Jumping to her feet, Jessica began to pace, growing angrier by the minute as she waited for her ex-husband to come to the phone. Finally, he picked up. “Jessica. I was about to call you.”

  “Yeah. I've heard that before. Where is she, Nick?”

  “I believe she is in the hands of two brothers named Jon and Richie Carver.”

  Jessica gasped and then broke out sobbing. “Why would they have our daughter?”

  “It's a long story, but they wanted something from me and threatened that if I didn't comply, they'd hurt Krystal.”

  Her knees gave out and she sank to the carpet. “And you didn't think I should know that our daughter was in that kind of danger? I can't believe this!”

  “Jessica, I'm sorry. I was wrong. I take full responsibility. I should have told you.”

  She listened to him rattle off the platitudes as fast as he could, but it made no impact on her. She doubled over, rocking into the depths of the pain. “You find my daughter, Nick Shepherd. And you bring her home now!”

  She slammed the phone down. Then picked it up, screaming, and threw it against the wall. Curling up in a tight ball on the floor, she began to rock from the pain that was ripping through her. “God, please, don't let this be happening. Bring my daughter home. Please. Don't let them hurt my baby.”

  Saturday, 5:10 a.m.

  Sinai Hospital, Baltimore

  Annie opened her eyes and blinked a couple of times, trying to see if her sister would disappear between blinks. Nope. She hadn't dreamed it after all. She licked her dry lips. “Barb?”

  It took a second for Barbara to slowly open her eyes, but when she did, she smiled. “Hey, Sis. You're awake.”

  “I thought maybe I dreamed you.”

  Barb picked up a glass of water with trembling hands, putting the straw to Annie's mouth. “Drink first.”

  Annie drank gratefully, letting the cool water soothe her dry throat. “Thanks,” she whispered when she was finished. “So what happened?”

  “Dr. Burdine is really worried about you.”

  Annie pushed herself back so that she could sit up a little. “My body is weakening.”

  Barbara was scratching her arms, which were bright red. She ran her fingers though her greasy hair. “Well, it'll be a few days before we know whether my son is a match or not. So for now, we stay positive, okay?”

  “I need to call Nick.”

  Barb picked up her hand. “And you need to rest.”

  “Please, can you give me my cell phone?” Annie raised the bed so that she could sit up.

  “Annie, please don't.”

  She just looked at her sister, the pleading in her eyes. “Don't what?”

  “You said earlier that you had to call Nick. That you promised him that you would let him know where I was. You don't understand. If you call him, he'll take me straight to jail and Carver will have me dead in a matter of hours. Please. I can't let you call.”

  “No. You don't understand. He won't. He knows I need you right now. But I made him a promise. I have to keep it.”

  Slowly, Barb handed her the phone.

  Rafe answered on the second ring, and Annie quickly explained where she was, but before she could tell him about her sister, Rafe told her about Krystal. “Oh no. What is Nick going to do?”

  “We're working out plans right now.”

  “I'll let you get back to it then.”

  “Stay in touch, Annie.”

  “Will do.” Annie closed her phone and tossed it down on the blanket covering her lap.

  “What's going on?” Ba
rb asked.

  Annie told her all about Nick and Krystal and Jon and Richie Carver.

  “They'll kill her,” Barb stated flatly. “They're like that. Lives mean nothing to the Carvers.”

  She walked over to the window, stared out for a minute, and then turned around. “He wants the laptop. In order for Nick to get Krystal back, Nick has to turn over that laptop.”

  Annie leaned back against the pillow and closed her eyes.

  “He might still attempt to kill Nick and Krystal, but without the laptop, they don't stand a chance.”

  “You need to give Nick that laptop.”

  “So you want me to turn myself in.”

  The sudden shift in Barb's tone—the lack of emotion her words conveyed—had Annie opening her eyes and looking over at her sister. “I didn't get a chance to tell them you're here. I'm not asking you to do anything. I just mentioned the laptop in hopes that maybe we can give it to Nick. Not you. Just the laptop.”

  Barb slowly sat down in the chair, dropping her eyes to the floor. “It won't stop Jon. He wants me.”

  “But without the laptop, Nick and his daughter don't stand a chance. If the only way to save them is to deliver you and the laptop to Jon… I'll take your place. My life is over anyway.”

  “Annie, no. That's insane.”

  Annie reached over and hit the nurse call button. “No, it's not. An innocent young girl's life is on the line, and mine is over anyway. Seems like a logical choice to me.” She swung her feet over the edge of the bed. “Will you give me the laptop?”

  Barb studied her as a nurse came in and Annie told her to call Dr. Burdine, that she wanted to be released. As the nurse left, Barb reached out and took Annie's hand. “Okay, if you're determined to do this, I'll get the laptop.”

  Saturday, 5:45 a.m.

  Jon Carver's condo, Baltimore