Almas.
Even from here he could see the bulge at each of their waistbands. They were packing.
Suddenly cutting down this alley didn’t seem like such a good idea.
His smile slipped. “Look, I don’t want no trouble.”
“Then you shouldn’t have been asking about things that don’t concern you.” Those black eyes bored into him. “And snitching to the cops.”
No!
He’d always known his arrangement with Zander could get him into hot water, but he’d been so careful.
Play it cool.
Maybe she didn’t know as much as she pretended to.
He slowly held up his hands. “Look, chica, I don’t know you. And I ain’t no snitch, so whatever you’ve heard, it’s not about me.”
“Really. So you aren’t Rafe? The Rafe who’s been asking about Celestine Montoya? The Rafe who has been seen in the company of a known detective?” She jutted out her hip and placed a well-manicured hand on it. “Think very carefully about your answer. I don’t like being lied to and I have a lot of friends who keep me in the loop.”
Could he bluff her?
His gut told him no. But his head told him to try anyway.
Maybe he could spin this. “Look, I just asked a few casual questions. I knew Jave and heard he was seeing you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Jave’s been gone for four years. Why are you dredging up the past now?”
Moisture lined his hands, but he forced himself to hold them still. “His death never sat right with me. Figured if the cops ain’t doin’ nothing about it, someone ought to. His girl seemed like a good place to start.”
A slight movement of her hand and a gun appeared.
Not some wimpy little girl’s gun. It looked like a .357 Magnum to his untrained eye. Big enough to do some serious damage, especially at this close range.
He couldn’t take his eyes off the weapon.
“I told you I didn’t like being lied to.” Her words were tight, her gun hand steady. “You’re coming with me.”
So they could kill him in some out of the way place? No chance.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean nothing by it. I was just tryin’ to help a friend.”
“I hope it was a good friend because helping just might cost you your life.” She flicked the gun toward a black SUV parked at the end of the alley. “Now come on.”
The two men behind her descended like orange striped falcons, guns in hand.
If he ran, he’d take a bullet to the back. Maybe three of them.
“Just let me go. I won’t tell no one. And I’ll stop askin’ questions.”
“Too late. Now move.”
Why were there never cops around when you needed them?
He glanced up and down the alley, which was empty except for the four of them. Likely by design. She probably had men stationed at either end to keep people away.
One of the bodyguards stepped forward and placed a meaty hand on Rafe’s shoulder, shoving him hard enough to make him stumble backward a few steps. “Ms. Montoya told you to move, homey.”
He was outmanned and outgunned. Best to do what they said.
As he approached the vehicle, he slowed. Something hard poked between his shoulder blades. “Keep movin’.”
Same voice as before.
The other guard passed by him and opened the door to the backseat. “Inside.”
The man had a high-pitched, slightly squeaky voice that reminded Rafe of cartoon mouse. Any other time he’d probably find it amusing. Now all he could think about was being killed by a man who sounded like a cartoon character.
He approached the vehicle, paused next to Mouse Man, and swung his arm at the man’s head.
Crack! The man’s head whipped back, smacking against the side of the vehicle. Mouse Man staggered, arms flailing.
Rafe lunged for the gun. His fingers closed around the grip.
Pain erupted at the back of his head. White spots danced across his vision as blackness invaded.
Through the haze, he heard a scraping noise, one he’d recognize anywhere.
He was about to get shot.
“No.” Montoya’s voice cut through the bells ringing in his head. “Not until we find out how much he knows. And how much he’s told.”
Rafe blinked until the alley’s pavement came back into focus. He lifted his head in time to see a gun swinging toward him.
More pain. Then everything faded to black.
Twenty Two
“The person you are calling does not have voicemail set up.”
Zander ended the call.
Of course Elly hadn’t set up voicemail. The bigger question was why she wasn’t answering the phone. What was the point of buying the darn thing if she wasn’t going to answer?
He hoped it didn’t mean she was in trouble and couldn’t answer.
“No luck?” Morgan made a tight right turn into the marina’s parking lot.
“No.” Frustration laced the word.
He scanned the lot. Nothing seemed suspicious or out of place.
But what did he expect? A vehicle painted orange with the Alma gargoyle adorning the hood?
The second their vehicle stopped, he threw open the door and strode toward the gate. Not that he could get through. He pulled out the phone and tried Elly again.
Same result.
Reaching the gate, he yanked on it. It didn’t budge.
Naturally. What had he expected? That someone would leave it ajar at the exact moment he needed them to?
Morgan stopped beside him. “Don’t know the code?”
He shook his head.
“I’m gonna go to the office and see if I can’t get them to open this gate.” Morgan’s voice broke into his thoughts.
“Good idea. I’ll wait here in case someone goes in or out.”
He heard Morgan move away but didn’t take his eyes off the keypad. As if staring at it would make the numbers magically light up.
Why hadn’t he watched when Elly had entered the code?
Not a mistake he’d make again. Next time he’d watch her enter the code and make a note of it. Assuming he ever saw her again.
No. She’d come through this okay. She had God on her side, right?
Besides, if she could heal others, seemed only logical that she could heal herself.
Wait.
Could she even die? Maybe there was no way to kill Elly.
But that didn’t mean that these men couldn’t inflict indescribable suffering in more ways than he cared to think about. Worse than that, if she couldn’t die, those men could hurt her, she’d heal, and then they could do it all over again. Theoretically, she could suffer worse than anyone.
He had to find her. Soon.
Could they jimmy the lock?
He examined the handle. No key hole.
Well that seemed like a poor design. What if the power went out or the batteries died? How was anyone supposed to get through the gate then?
That electrical box to his left might provide access. A heavy duty lock held the cover in place, but with some of the tools in Morgan’s trunk, he could get inside.
But that may or may not get him through the gate.
A door slammed behind him.
He turned to find Morgan stalking toward him, a scowl curling his lips.
Uh-oh. Not a good sign.
“There’s a note on the office door that says ‘back in thirty minutes’ but it doesn’t say when that thirty minute clock started ticking.” A frustrated breath exploded from Morgan. “It could’ve been two minutes ago, for all I know.”
“Then we need a plan B.”
Zander turned back to the fence. They could try to access the panel, but the fastest way, maybe the only way, for him to get around was to climb the fence. The razor wire prevented going over the top, but he could go around.
Which meant dangling over the water.
There was no other good choice.
He kicked off
his shoes and latched onto the gate.
“Kid, what’re you doing?”
He glanced over at Morgan. “Going around. I don’t see another option.”
“We wait for the office manager to return. It shouldn’t be long.”
Releasing the fencing, Zander thrust a finger toward the boats on the other side. “And there could be guys with guns out there right now. Both Elly and Monica might be dead by the time the manager returns. I’m going.”
He hooked his fingers into the fencing, found a foothold, and hoisted himself up. The metal rattled but didn’t sag. He climbed higher, until his head was inches below the razor wire, then started moving over. Reaching the railing, he stepped over, found another foothold, then brought his other leg over.
The metal links dug into the bottom of his feet and hurt his fingers, but he forced himself to keep going.
Below him, the black waters of the bay churned.
Probably waiting to welcome him to a watery grave. Sweat tickled down his forehead but he didn’t dare let go to wipe it off.
He moved further from safety.
A few more steps put him at the edge of the fencing.
Now came the fun part.
“Don’t fall.” Morgan stood on the boardwalk, arms crossed, an amused smile tweaking his lips. “I ain’t about to give you mouth to mouth.”
Not helping.
Zander refused the urge to look down as he reached the edge, stretched one hand around to the other side, then swung his leg around. Straddling the pole, he drew a deep breath. Almost there.
He brought his other hand around to the back side, then dragged his other leg over.
His sock slipped off the metal.
The links cut into the joints on his fingers. His body lurched toward the greedy waters.
He scrambled to find a foothold as his shoulders screamed. There!
Arms quivering, he clung to the fencing, pulling in deep breaths until the trembling stopped.
Keep moving. Only a few feet to go.
He continued down the fence, stepped over the safety railing of the walkway, then dropped down to the security of the wooden planks.
Fingers throbbing, he looked at the angry red welts, but saw no blood. At least he hadn’t broken skin.
From the feel of things, his feet were in similar shape, but he’d survive.
He pushed the button and swung the gate open.
Morgan shook his head slowly as he walked through. “Gotta hand it to you, kid. That was something.”
Zander scooped up his shoes and slipped his feet back inside. “Come on.”
The walkway seemed longer than ever. They hurried down it, passing boats that looked like hulking wooden ghosts in the water, and stopped by Paradise Found. It looked empty, too.
Pulling his gun, he stepped on board. He sensed Morgan only a few steps behind him.
He climbed the stairs, cautiously peering over the top at the main cabin.
No heads or shadows or movement.
Maybe everyone was below deck.
Even as the thought occurred, he doubted it.
They reached the cabin door and he tried the handle. It moved easily beneath his fingers.
Dang it, Elly! Why wouldn’t she listen to him?
They swept the main cabin, then slowly negotiated the narrow stairs leading down to the galley and living quarters.
The lights were on in the galley, but no one was around.
It took less than two minutes to clear the rest of the boat and he lowered his gun. Where was she?
They. He had to keep reminding himself that Monica was a concern, too.
A critical eye showed that things looked neat, too neat for there to have been a struggle. While he wasn’t convinced Elly would put up a fight, he knew Monica would. A girl like that wouldn’t go easily, not after what she’d been through.
“Now what, kid?” Morgan had lowered his weapon but not holstered it.
That was the question. Where did they go from here? “Tranquility Day Spa? I really don’t know.”
The next time he saw her, he’d have to remind Elly that they didn’t all get direct messages from God. A little more detail would have been nice.
The floorboards above their head creaked. Footsteps echoed.
Elly? Or someone more sinister?
The footsteps approached the stairwell and descended. A distinct slapping noise accompanied each footfall.
Zander planted his feet, his gun angled toward the floor but ready to come up if needed.
A solid man with chin length dark brown hair stepped into view. A windbreaker jacket contrasted with the khaki shorts and flip-flops.
“Freeze! Hands up!” Morgan’s voice startled the man, who jerked around to face them.
Zeke.
Zander reached out and gently pushed Morgan’s gun down. “It’s okay. That’s Elly’s brother.”
Morgan’s eyebrows shot up his forehead but he didn’t voice his disbelief.
“Zander? What are you guys doing here?” Zeke’s gaze shot behind them.
“Looking for Elly. Have you seen her?”
Zeke shook his head. “Not since this morning. Did you try the center?”
“She’s not there. We need to find her.” This wasn’t only about Elly. The reminder came a fraction of a second too late. “And Monica. She’s in danger and we think Elly went after her.”
Zeke’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Danger? Well, then we better take it to Someone bigger than us.”
“Sovereign Lord.” Turning his face toward the ceiling, Zeke kept his eyes open. “We could use Your help to find Elly and Monica.”
The air felt thick.
Or maybe it was just the anticipation that made it hard for Zander to breathe. Would God answer? Would he hear God like Zeke and Elly and Josiah claimed to?
A few seconds passed before Zeke focused on him, eyes practically on fire. “Tranquility day spa. Penthouse. They have three hostages. Elly is one of them. Monica is another. I don’t know who the third man is. If you hurry, you can go in through the loading dock behind the building.”
Zander blinked.
That was awfully specific. Had God really told him all that?
Well, he’d believe it if it came from Elly. Why not Zeke?
“Thanks, Zeke.” He looked at Morgan, whose skepticism was evident. “Let’s go.”
Zeke stepped aside as they moved past him. “One more thing. Don’t go through downtown. There was a car accident and traffic is stopped for miles. Go around. And bring my sister home.”
Just Elly? The thought shot through Zander and he stared at Zeke.
Was that resignation? Did Zeke know something they didn’t?
Zeke shook his head slowly. “Go now. You don’t have much time.”
He nodded, then rushed up the stairs. Morgan’s feet pounded behind him. They exited the cabin, disembarked, and hurried toward the chain link gate.
At least he wouldn’t have to climb around it this time.
If he’d known Zeke was only ten minutes behind them, he wouldn’t have done it last time either.
“You buy all that?” Morgan’s words came out slightly winded as he kept pace with Zander.
“Yeah.” It felt weird to admit, but he couldn’t deny it any longer. “I’ve seen too much with these guys to not believe it.”
“So what, you believe in all this God stuff?” A hint of challenge underscored Morgan’s words.
That was the question, wasn’t it? It wasn’t one he had to think too long or hard about, though.
He pushed through the gate, then met Morgan’s eyes. “Yeah, I do. He’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
As soon as all this was over, he planned to talk to Elly more about God and figure it all out, but for now he needed to focus on getting her back.
Morgan said nothing, but Zander could feel the disapproval.
It didn’t matter. He didn’t need Morgan’s approval in his personal life.
Besides, by the time this was all over, Morgan might be seeing things differently, too.
As Morgan started the car, Zander slid a glance his direction. “You’re avoiding the downtown, right?”
Morgan shrugged. “It’s the most direct route.”
“Just trust him on this.”
Morgan speared him with hard eyes. “You want your chick back or not?”
She wasn’t his chick. Not yet, anyway. But he didn’t correct Morgan. “How about this. You take an alternate route and I’ll pull up traffic reports to see if he was right. If Zeke’s wrong, we’ll do it your way from here on out.”
A slight smirk twisted Morgan’s lips. “Fine. But when you find out he’s wrong, you owe me lunch.”
“Deal.” Zander pulled out his phone as Morgan steered out of the parking lot, heading in the opposite direction of downtown.
A few minutes passed in silence. Zander searched the traffic reports… there!
Whoa.
A faint buzzing filled his head.
Zeke had been right. While he’d believed Zeke enough to bet on it, seeing the proof somehow changed things.
“Multi-car accident downtown. A truck ran a red light and hit a flatbed hauling construction equipment. The flatbed lost some of its cargo, which hit two other cars. There’s debris all over the road and traffic is gridlocked for three blocks in any direction.”
Morgan didn’t take his eyes from the road, but his knuckles were white on the steering wheel. “The dude just got home. He probably saw it on his way. Sure doesn’t mean God told him.”
Funny how Morgan didn’t sound too convinced.
“Or maybe it means exactly that. Come on, is it so hard to believe there’s Someone out there?”
“Haven’t seen evidence that He is out there, so yeah.”
“Well keep looking. I have a feeling this is only the beginning.”
The rest of the drive was made in silence.
Even breaking the speed limit and multiple traffic laws, it took over ten minutes to reach Tranquility Day Spa.
Morgan parked a block away. “Now what, smart kid?”
Zander ignored the jab.
It was a solid question. Without a warrant, they had no legal grounds to get inside, much less up to the penthouse.
Zeke had told them to go in through the loading dock. He didn’t know how they’d get inside, but it was as good a place to start as any.
Silent is the Grave Page 26
