He bent closer, both palms on her cheeks, forcing her face to his, his fingers a vise, crushing her jaw so hard she feared the bones might break.
“I was wrong, baby. So wrong. As soon as I left, I knew I’d made a mistake. I need you. I’m no good without you. I love you. I’ve always loved you. And you love me. Together, baby. You and me together—just the way it was meant to be. From now on. I promise.”
As she listened to the muddled rantings of his deranged mind, Kate realized any rational argument was pointless. He was sick. Delusional. Dangerous. She had to get away. Needed to find out where they were. Needed to think. Needed help.
If ever she needed Cash, it was now. Her heart sank at the thought he might be injured. No, not dead. She couldn’t face the possibility.
Cash. Please be alive. Please come for me.
From somewhere in the night, she heard the faint wail of sirens. Her head swiveled to the right, and she squinted in the darkness. Nothing. Black oblivion. No clue as to where Clark had brought her. They couldn’t have come far. Night sounds meant they were still close to civilization. Those sirens could have been rescue vehicles or the police coming to the site of the accident.
She glanced up. Ductwork and pipes. A warehouse of some sort. Of course. The abandoned district by the railroad tracks. The stadium wasn’t that far away. It was too dark to see much beyond the area where Clark had her. If she screamed, would anyone hear?
Clark watched her, one end of his mouth stretched in evil amusement. “Thinking of escape? Ah, Katherine—I’m so disappointed in you. Why would you want to leave me? Wasn’t I good to you?”
His hand traced the pulse in her throat, down over her breastbone, then grasping the fullness of her natural breast and squeezing until she gasped in pain.
Clark’s eyes darkened with lust. He pinched her nipple until she cried aloud.
“See? It could be good between us again. You’ve grown lovely since I’ve been gone. Those other women were poor substitutes. You’re the only one who could make me whole, Kate. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t find anyone to hold the demons at bay. To still the voices. So I had to release them. I had to obey.”
As hard as she tried to quell her fear, she knew without a shadow of a doubt Clark had killed those women. He was insane, a murderer…and she was probably next.
“Let me go, Clark,” she whispered. “For the sake of what we once were to each other, let me go.”
He released her chin and laughed as he stood. “Why, Katherine, I’ve just gotten you back, and I’ll never let you go. Montgomery won’t find you. No one will find you. You’re mine—you belong to me and me only.” He put his hand gently over her mouth and nose, and pushed. She struggled to breathe, thrashing her head frantically from side to side.
“Shh, my sweet. Be still. I’m not going to hurt you. If I let you up, will you promise not to scream, not to try and get away?” His voice sounded eerie, sing-song, the menacing lullaby of a deranged man tripping into madness.
Widening her eyes, she nodded. Without being tied, she might have a chance.
As if he’d read her mind, one by one, he unbuckled the restraints. An evil smile on his face. An arm behind her back, he helped her sit, and the room spun in circles, nausea rolled through her stomach, and she gagged.
He handed her a bottle of water. “Take a few sips. You’re dry from the sedative, but don’t drink too fast or you’ll vomit. And we wouldn’t want that, now, would we?” He nodded as he watched her drink, his hands resting lightly on her thighs. “That’s it, a little more. Good. You should be feeling better soon.”
“Why are you doing this?” she asked, knowing it was futile, dreading his answer. “Why did you drug me? Bring me to this place? I want to go home…take me home. You say you love me. Let me go. You were right—we were good once. Let me go and we can try again. See where it leads. You don’t have to take me, tie me up, give me drugs. I’ll give us another chance, just like you want. Just please let me go.” Her voice rose in panic.
“Don’t get all upset, sweetheart. We will go home…soon.” He leaned in and gave her a light kiss.
Bile burned her throat. She resisted the urge to scrub her fingers against her lips.
“Don’t you see? I had to kidnap you, so I could see you. Your watchdog was always around. And your new assistant… Really, my dear, do you think anyone bought that? A six-foot four Neanderthal for an administrative assistant? I don’t think so. They were all trying to keep you away from me. No doubt Montgomery sensed you might still have feelings for me. And just like me, once he had you, he’d never let you go—wouldn’t let you out of his sight. This was the only way, you see. Remove him from the picture, and poof. The competition disappears. And now we’re together again, and everything is going to be wonderful. You’ll see.”
His eyes were eyes of pure evil. He’d caused the accident in order to kidnap her. And possibly get rid of Cash. And Rush… He hadn’t moved when Clark dragged her from the wreckage.
Cash…my God. She prayed he was alive. He had to be. If he wasn’t, she’d know it, wouldn’t she? Feel it somehow?
And Rush had been with them. There was no way Clark could have killed both men. Unless…
“You told me Cash and Rush were all right.” Again, he grinned. Kate understood the message. Tears welled in her eyes, dropping in hot rivulets down her cold cheeks.
He stroked away her tears. “Don’t be upset. They were alive when we left. From the sounds of the sirens, either the police or the paramedics are with them. All we have to do is be quiet and stay where we are. They’ll never find us here. Once you feel stronger, and have some food and water, we’ll be on our way.”
Of course she couldn’t believe him. Clark would say anything to appease her at this point. He wanted her calm and compliant. She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t stop; not knowing if Cash was all right tore through her heart.
“Clark, Cash…he has a daughter. He’s all that she has. Please tell me you didn’t kill him. He’s alive, isn’t he? You didn’t…”
A deep red suffused his face. His hands framed her shoulders, fingers digging into the soft flesh.
“His daughter will be fine. Quit worrying about Cash Montgomery and his child. He doesn’t matter. I know you cared for him—but only because you missed me, depended on me, and needed someone to look after you. I understand, baby. I should never have left you, but I’m back now, and you don’t need him anymore. You have me now, and you don’t ever have to be afraid again. Whatever happens, we’ll be together.”
Clark ran his hands up her arms to cup behind her neck, pulling her close to his face. She shivered, his touch repugnant.
“Montgomery and Parker were alive when I left. You and your soft heart. That’s one of the things I’ve always loved about you. Sweet Kate. I knew you’d forgive me.”
He pressed a kiss on her lips and she gagged, but Clark was so engrossed in his fantasy he didn’t notice.
“Now, won’t you eat something? Have some water. After you’ve rested, we’ll head for the coast.”
He let her go and passed her a sandwich and another bottle of water. Just the thought of food made her queasy. She held them in her hand as if she didn’t know what to do with them, and that irritated Clark.
“Kate!” He jerked the sandwich out of her hand, unwrapped it, and held it to her mouth. “Here. Pull yourself together. Eat.”
He stuffed the crust roughly through her cracked lips. Already the Jekyll-Hyde personality traits were escalating, one moment accommodating, the next threatening. She was in big trouble, and she was scared. Clark was a man on the edge—she’d have to walk on eggshells or he would completely lose it.
Kate chewed the dry sandwich, searching her surroundings. Solid walls, dark. It smelled musty—abandoned. There was no way out that she could see. Her best chance for escape would be on the way to the “house” on the “coast,” wherever that might be.
Kate blocked images of an injured Cash f
rom her mind. They’d been strapped in. Please, she prayed, let them be alive.
Clark came closer, leaned over her, unable to cloak the madness lurking in his eyes. “You aren’t thinking of ditching me, are you, Katherine?” His forefinger stroked her cheek, the rough nail trailing a scratch on her skin. “I know you, Kate.” Again speaking in the eerie whine as before. “You let yourself get attached to Montgomery. But it’s okay—I forgive you. As soon we’re safely away from here and I can hold you again, you’ll forget all about him. We were good together, baby—we’ll be good together again. Promise.” Again, he brushed her lips with a kiss. Revolting and foul.
As she gazed into eyes dark and wild, she realized he’d completely lost touch with reality. He bore no resemblance to the Clark she’d known and loved. He looked different, sounded different, even smelled different. He was a stranger—a very scary and dangerous stranger. If she didn’t manage to get away, he’d kill her just like the others. She wouldn’t live up to the expectations of his fantasy any more than they.
Her blood curdled.
****
Cash staggered from the SUV just as Ragusa and Murphy slammed on the brakes of the unmarked car and slid to a stop. Emergency units were already in place, pulling Parker from the car and assisting Cash from the opposite side. He stumbled, his hand grasping behind him.
“I can’t see a damn thing—can somebody please find my glasses?”
Murphy squatted beside the open door. The black frames had been knocked under the front seat. He pulled them out but one lens was missing. “Buddy, I’ve got them, but you’ll only have one good eye.”
“One is enough,” he said, jamming them in place. “How’s Rush?”
“They’re taking him to Memorial as we speak. He’s pretty banged up.”
Another car skidded to a stop, and Jake peeled out of the car.
“Parker?” he barked.
Cash shook his head. “He’s on his way to the hospital now.” He turned, his attention on the surrounding buildings. From what he could make out, the area was full of boarded-up doors, broken windows, deserted alleys. Spooky damn place—this was no accident. “Does anybody see anything?” he fired. “Kate… Can you see where he took her? Burgess couldn’t have gone far—he didn’t have the time.”
His guts knotted as his rage boiled. No answer. “Do you see Kate?” he roared. “Somebody answer my damn question. Now!”
Jake surveyed the area. “We’ll find her, buddy. Suck it up—you won’t do her or anyone else any good if you lose it. Is backup on the way?”
Ragusa checked his cell. “ETA ten minutes. Burgess planned this pretty well. Did you see or hear another car?”
“No. Nothing until the tire blew. But it was no accident, trust me—this is a perfect place to stage an ambush. Poor lighting, plenty of cover, lots of places to make a quick exit, and all the goddamned rain. I don’t know…” He ran his hand over his head and face, creating a waterfall down his shirt. “She’s here. In one of these abandoned buildings. What I can’t figure is how Burgess slipped by us.”
Murphy walked over. “I think I can answer that.” He held out a press pass.
Cash squinted. “Hell, I can’t tell. But there was one guy who made a nuisance of himself. Come to think of it, he disappeared just before we got in the SUV. It had to be Burgess. Probably on his way to stage this accident.”
Ragusa raised one shoulder. “That’s a good guess, and a press pass is an easy entry into the stadium. Easy access to Kate. Yeah—I think he stole it, slipped through the guards, and waited for his opportunity. Was Kate out of it? Did she seem tired? Could she have been drugged?”
Cash snapped his fingers, then looked skyward and closed his eyes. “Damn. Burgess stumbled into Kate just as we were leaving. The edge of his camera hit her in the arm. Do you think…?”
Ragusa pursed his lips. “Yeah, I think. I don’t see Kate sinking that low, that fast, without a little help. We can’t prove it was Burgess, but we all know what happened here. He wanted her; he took her. Shit. I hate calling in the Feds on this, but kidnapping? The captain will have my balls if I don’t follow protocol.”
“I’m not waiting any longer. Kate’s out there with Burgess, and she needs me.”
Ragusa, Murphy, and Jake arced to face the building in front of them. Empty railroad tracks at their rear. If Kate was in the area, she had to be concealed in one of the six empty warehouses. The ambulance left, police units still approximately five minutes out. The only sounds were city traffic in the distance and the creaking of weathered wood and loose metal shifting in the breeze.
“Jake, you take the far building next to the storage tanks. Ragusa, Murphy, you take the next two. Has anybody got a weapon I can use?”
Ragusa pulled his secondary shooter from the back of his belt and handed it over. Cash flipped off the safety, checked the chambers, and palmed it.
“Let’s go.”
The men fanned out and crept closer to the structures. Cash swallowed the desperation clouding his brain. He had to focus—she needed him. The one lens in his glasses made him dizzy, but he fought the sensation and let his instincts take over.
Jake, on his left, reached cover. Sig drawn, he shouldered the side of a broken window and peeped in. Creeping below the line of visibility, he made his way to the door and quietly tested the lock. The bracket and lock fell to the ground with a loud noise. They all froze, waiting to see if the sound triggered a response.
Nothing.
Cash nodded at his friend and slipped in. Five minutes later, he exited, shaking his head. Bent low, he rounded the corner, took aim, straight-armed down the alley, and crossed to a big warehouse with broken window glass crunching loudly under his shoes.
Ragusa and Murphy checked out the building on his right, signaling with emphatic head shakes that she wasn’t there, either. They moved down the line to the last building on the south end of the district.
Cash mimicked Jake’s approach as the other three men moved down the row. The storage facility was empty and dark. With his shoulder sliding along the rough wall, he crept along the wall until he reached the rear of the building. A quick head pop around the back. Clear. No windows—only a door cocked partially open. These damn glasses. It was hard enough to see in the dark, but with the single lens, it was damned near impossible.
He was just about to leave when he heard the quiet murmurings of a male voice and the higher-pitched counterpoint of a woman. Bingo.
Not wanting to confront Burgess without backup, he hurriedly retraced his steps, signaled Jake, Ragusa and Murphy. As they headed toward him, Cash picked his way back to the rear, up the four steps at the exit, and used his Sig to lever the door wider. He shouldered his way into the dark cavern.
A sound came from his right. He inched closer, doing everything he could to muffle the echo of his shoes on the concrete floor. What the hell? Plastic sheeting? No. Strips. Hung from a low hanging pipe. The crazy son of a bitch had built a room of plastic—an isolation unit, except that the strips weren’t clear—they were black.
Cash checked his weapon again. Ready. He slipped the barrel under the edge of a vertical black strip. Lifting it gingerly from its companion, he peered into the dimly lit interior through his one good eye—and froze.
Pure rage—hate—flooded every part of his body. He fought the urge to point the weapon and pull the trigger and take out the fucker. Son. Of. A. Bitch.
Kate sat on some sort of gurney, Clark hovering over her as he forced a lip-lock. Her back rigid, hands fisted against his chest, pushing with all her might, struggling—mewls of terror erupting from her throat. “Stop,” she begged. “Clark, don’t…please.”
If he shot Burgess now, there was a good chance Kate might be injured. He had to wait for just the right moment. He held back, fury steeling his resolve, and felt the rush of adrenaline in his veins. His hand steadied as he planted his legs and prepared to shoot.
Hold it. Hold it. Wait for the opportune time.
Kate had marks on her face, but no blood. She was alive, no thanks to her captor. She could have been killed or seriously injured in the accident. God only knew what had transpired since then. A slow burn ignited in his gut, and it took every bit of willpower he had to keep from bursting into the room and tearing Burgess’s throat out.
A thin ray of light shone from the front of the warehouse. One by one, Jake, Ragusa, and Murphy stealthily crept forward, weapons drawn, bodies alert, their heads rotating, covering the surrounding area while maintaining an eagle eye on the perimeters. Backup. Thank God.
Just as the men reached Cash’s side and fanned out, a muffled scream came from inside the enclosure.
“Bitch,” Burgess spat.
A slap.
A cry from Kate.
That’s it—he was going in. At a nod from Cash, the four men burst through the plastic curtains, aimed, ready to fire.
“Burgess, let her go,” Cash yelled.
Clark faced his captors with a maniacal grin on his face. From behind his body, he slowly raised a hand, and in it, poised at Kate’s neck, a long, serrated knife with a viciously curved tip.
“Well, well, well.” Clark smirked. “If it isn’t the blind hero and company. One step closer, and I’ll plunge this knife into Katherine’s delectable neck. Such a shame to mar perfection, don’t you think?”
Kate’s wide eyes locked on Cash. She was as pale as death. Scared, but strong. So brave. He flicked her an encouraging glance and trained his steady gaze back on Burgess. The damn glasses. What pitiful vision he had was out of focus. He didn’t dare fire for fear of hitting Kate.
Clark continued. “You should have left well enough alone, Montgomery. She’s a little skittish now, but she’d have come around eventually.”
The knife’s edge pressed into Kate’s skin, and a small trickle of red ran down her distended throat. She whimpered, her eyes wildly reaching for him.
“She’s mine, Montgomery. She’s always been mine. But you and your daughter had to complicate things, conjure up old dreams, eh, Kate? Fantasies of a home, children, a family.”
A Little Night Music Page 21
