Believing Again: Book 5 in the Second Chances series (Crimson Romance)

by Peggy Bird

  She decided to scope out the front of the house while she waited for Sam and her backup. She felt confident she could do that without being seen. The evening was dark and cloudy, the moon barely visible. Added to that, she was in a black raincoat and dark pants which would help her blend into the night. For the first time in weeks she was grateful the streetlight outside her house was out. She’d been making phone calls all over hell and half of Georgia to get it replaced but right now she was happy she’d been so ineffective in eliciting a response.

  Stashing her Glock in her leather case, she got out of her car. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; nothing was visible through her front window. She was about to go back to her car to wait for Sam when she heard what sounded like a gunshot coming from inside her house.

  Waiting for backup was now out of the question.

  The outside light, the one beside the door, wasn’t on, which was good. There was a single light on in the living room, the one on a timer set to turn on at four. That gave her light when she came in the house after work but because it was on a table in the front window, the glare made it almost impossible to see beyond it to anything else in the room. That was bad. She was walking almost blind into what surely was a setup.

  She removed the Glock from her leather case, chambered a round and entered the house, leaving the front door unlocked.

  “Kaylea?” she called. “I heard a noise that sounded like a gunshot? Are you okay?”

  No response.

  Before she turned out the light in the living room, she looked around. Nothing looked out of place. There was no sign of a struggle. There was no other light on any place in the house except for a dim glow coming from the kitchen.

  She called again, “Kaylea? Where are you?”

  An unfamiliar woman’s voice came from the back of the house. “You’re home early. I expected to be gone by the time you got here, Detective Hartmann. You’ve surprised me and I don’t like surprises.”

  “Who are you and where’s Kaylea? What are you doing in my home?” Danny took a few steps further into the house now that she knew where Barbara Black was.

  “Kaylea can’t talk to you right now, I’m afraid.” The voice was getting closer. “And who am I? I’m the person who’s going to stop all this interference in my work.”

  Finally, a slim, boyish figure wearing surgical gloves and with her hair covered with a surgical cap appeared in the door from the kitchen to the dining room. She was holding the arm of a bound and gagged Kaylea. Because she was backlit by the kitchen light, Danny couldn’t see Barbara Black’s face but the gun pointed at Kaylea’s head was only too obvious.

  “I’m sorry,” Danny said. “I can’t see you. Have we met?”

  “We sure as hell have, at the clinic I run.” Barbara walked two more steps into the dining room and turned on the overhead light. “The gun. Put it on the table. Over here, where I can reach it. Then walk away from it.”

  Danny hesitated for a few seconds, trying to figure out how to keep her Glock without causing the woman in front of her to hurt Kaylea.

  “Put. It. Down.” Barbara motioned with the gun she held.

  Danny did as the woman demanded. “Now I recognize you. Barbara, isn’t it? Barbara Black. You’re the office manager at VMSC.”

  Barbara picked up Danny’s Glock and tucked it into the waistband of her pants. “I’m surprised you remembered. You certainly didn’t pay much attention to me when you were there in spite of the fact I’m the person who makes sure the clinic is run right. You should have talked to me first. But you didn’t. You were too busy flaunting yourself in front of that son-of-a-bitch doctor who tortures patients.”

  “I don’t understand.” Danny took a step forward but was met by Barbara matching her move, blocking her. “Do you mean Doctor Abrams?”

  “Stay put, missy.” Barbara waved the gun around. “Of course that’s who I mean. Don’t play games with me.”

  Danny edged around the dining room table, an inch at a time. “Are you okay, Kaylea?

  Kaylea nodded and tried to shake off Barbara’s hand. Barbara tightened her grip and pulled her hostage back into the kitchen without taking her eyes off Danny.

  Without asking permission Danny followed and watched Barbara push Kaylea onto a kitchen chair, then stand behind her and tie her to the chair with the cords Danny recognized as coming from the curtains.

  Most of the kitchen was in shadow; the only light was from the bulb under the range hood. Danny couldn’t see much other than what was right in front of her, couldn’t see if Jake was in the room. But she noticed a peculiar, almost metallic, smell. It was recognizable and yet somehow out of place. Like she knew it from somewhere else, someplace familiar.

  Then Barbara flipped on the overhead light and Danny saw what the source of the smell was. It was familiar, all right. She’d seen it at too many crime scenes.

  Blood.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Blood was in puddles in several places on the floor, apparently dribbled down from the corner of the counter next to the sink; the sharp corner, where the ceramic tile had a jagged edge she’d never gotten around to having her landlord repair. She scanned Kaylea looking for evidence of a wound but saw none. Then she turned toward the pantry and almost threw up.

  The source of the blood was lying in a crumbled heap on the floor — Jake, with more blood on his face, neck, and shoulders. She couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead but from the amount of blood she feared it was the latter.

  She looked away quickly, afraid to let Barbara see it distressed her. “Barbara, can we take that towel off Kaylea’s mouth? It must be irritating her.”

  “I really don’t care. She won’t be around long enough to have her mouth irritated.” She had a smirk on her face again. “I’d have thought you were more concerned about your boyfriend than about her.”

  “I’m afraid you misinterpreted our relationship, Barbara. He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Well, he thought he was. You should have heard him protecting you by trying to make me leave.”

  “Can’t help what he thought. We had dinner a couple times and that was it.” Danny wanted to keep the conversation going while she came up with some way to get to Jake and see if he was still alive. “What happened, Barbara? Did he fall or what?”

  “I thought you said he didn’t matter to you?”

  “I’m a cop. I investigate things like this all the time. What happened?”

  “It’s not important. The only thing that matters is that he’s no longer going to torture those men with his useless therapies and waste our limited resources trying to cure people who can’t be cured.”

  “Torturing patients? We didn’t hear anything about that when we talked to the clinic … to your staff.”

  “Of course not. No one would be brave enough to cross the mighty Doctor Abrams.”

  “I’m not clear on what you think he did.” Danny wanted Barbara talking while she looked around to see what she could use to get control of the situation.

  “He made those men go through hell recalling what they’d been through so he could pretend to cure them. You can’t cure them. You can only give them drugs and send them home or put them out of their misery. So I did what needed to be done. And I took care of the source of the problem, too. Permanently.”

  “Jake … Doctor Abrams? So he’s … ?” Danny couldn’t say the word.

  “Dead. He’s dead. I shot him and he fell and he’s dead.” Barbara had a twisted, berserk grin on her face as she said three times the word Danny hadn’t been able to say once. “Not that it matters. It’s only important that he’s no longer going to be running things at the clinic. Doctor Burns and I will be back to treating patients the right way.”

  “Is that what this is about … running the clinic? I thought he was a volunteer there. Don’t paid staff members have more say than volunteers?”

  “You’d think that would be the way it works. But he,” she pointed at Jake with the gu
n, “he came charging in and took over. I was running things with Doctor Burns until he came along and forced himself on everyone. I should be running the clinic. But no, he flooded the place with those men who can’t be cured and took up time and money we needed to treat the really deserving patients.”

  This was far more than the clash of personalities she and Sam had heard about when they interviewed the clinic staff. How had Barbara been able to conceal the contempt she felt for Jake? Why hadn’t someone — Jake, especially — not seen the depths of this woman’s anger? “I can see how that would upset you, Barbara. He was difficult to deal with sometimes, I agree.”

  Barbara ranted on allowing Danny a chance to look hard at Jake. She swore she saw him breathe but maybe that was her imagination, what she wanted to see. If only she could get to him to see what shape he was in.

  Then Kaylea gave her the opportunity she wanted. Freeing one hand from the cords that Barbara had apparently tied too loosely, Kaylea pulled the kitchen towel she had around her mouth off and yanked at the cord holding her to the chair. Barbara ran to her and smacked her across the face. “Sit still, missy. Do as you’re told.”

  Kaylea yelled, “Is Doctor Abrams okay, Danny?”

  “Stop it,” Barbara said followed by yet another slap.

  Danny took the chance, went to the pantry and knelt by Jake.

  But Barbara noticed. “You stop, too! This isn’t part of my plan. You’re messing with my plans. Both of you. Stop now.”

  “I’m just saying the Kaddish prayer over Jake. We’re both Jewish and it’s an important thing to do as soon as someone Jewish dies.”

  Barbara stared at Danny for a few moments until Kaylea struggled against her bonds again and Barbara had to return to her task of retying Kaylea to the chair.

  One obstacle overcome, Danny had only two other concerns. First, she didn’t know the words to the Kaddish prayers. Second, she wondered if the rabbi who’d tried to engage her interest in her mother’s faith would somehow find out the lies she was telling about the religion and hunt her down. She thought it unlikely but you never knew.

  One thing she wasn’t worried about, if God existed — and was listening — she was sure he’d understand what she was up to.

  With her heart beating a dangerously rapid rhythm and her breath catching in her throat, she placed herself so she was blocking Barbara’s view of what she was doing and began to speak, slowly and loudly.

  She started with what she’d recently prayed with Jake’s mother, the Sabbath blessing, which she repeated over and over as she felt Jake’s wrist, his temple, the base of his neck for a pulse, her fingers turning red from the blood that seemed to have come from a large gash in his head that lifted a piece of his scalp. She knew head wounds bled profusely and hoped the blood all over the floor was a reflection of that rather than of a life-threatening gunshot wound someplace else.

  Whether it was because Jake heard her, or God did, something made him open his eyes at that point. She stumbled on the words she was praying as she saw the first sign he was alive. But she didn’t want Barbara to know he was so she shook her head a little and raised her bloody finger in front of his lips. He nodded acquiescence and closed his eyes.

  As she praised Adonai as the ruler of the universe more times than she had in the past decade, she found a carotid pulse. It was rapid and not as strong as she thought his normal pulse would be but it was there. Satisfied that he was alive and in reasonably good shape, she began to surreptitiously pat him down, looking for something, anything, she could use against Barbara.

  As she searched, she continued to pray, now pulling out of her memory every Hebrew phrase she could remember, the Yiddish her grandparents had used when they were trying to keep the grandkids from knowing what they were talking about, even a couple words she thought might sound vaguely like Hebrew. It all flowed from her mouth like water in the river Jordan.

  She swore she saw Jake smiling.

  Barbara eventually lost patience with her. “Get it over with. He’s dead. Finish. You’ve upset my plans enough by coming home early. I need you over here where I can see what you’re doing while I think.

  “I’m almost finished,” Danny said. She wasn’t sure how Barbara thought she could get away with ridding herself of all three of them but that was Barbara’s problem. Hers was trying to find something she could use to help her prevent any more shooting before Sam arrived and found a way in.

  One last pass of patting down Jake’s pockets and one last iteration of “Baruch atah Adonai” and she was almost ready to stand up when she found his cell phone, in a jeans pocket she’d apparently missed on her first pass. At last, something that might be of help. She hoped Jake had Sam’s number programmed in. All she had to do was find it, call it, and make enough noise that Barbara didn’t hear him answer.

  Right. Not a problem.

  Turned out, it wasn’t. As if she were on Danny’s wavelength, Kaylea suddenly began to moan and scream as loud as she could around the newly reapplied gag. Barbara was forced to tend to her again, giving Danny the chance to find Sam’s number, press it, and put the phone beside Jake. She heard her partner answer and when he did she yelled, “Kaylea, are you all right? Barbara, what’s wrong with her? Is that gag too tight?”

  Sam stopped talking, like she wanted him to do.

  Barbara was frantically pacing back and forth between the pantry and the back of the kitchen, between her moaning captive and Danny.

  “Stop it. Both of you. I’ll shoot you both if you don’t shut up.”

  Danny signaled to Kaylea to be quiet. Then she stood and said, “Thank you, Barbara, for letting me do that.”

  Barbara barely acknowledged Danny so intent was she on figuring out how to manage two live hostages and one she thought was dead. Apparently she had originally wanted to leave two dead bodies for Danny to find when she got home from work but had to abandon that when Danny arrived home early. Now, she kept muttering about ways to get all three of them someplace where she could “take care of them.” For one freaky moment she actually seemed to ask Danny for advice before shaking her head and continuing to talk out with herself the options.

  All of which made Danny believe Barbara had been pushed to the limit and was unstable. Which made her very, very dangerous.

  Finally Barbara seemed to have decided on a plan. She looked at Danny and said, “I need your help getting him,” she pointed with the weapon toward Jake, “in the car. We can carry him between us. And I want her in handcuffs,” here she nodded at Kaylea, “so it looks like you’re arresting her. That way, we can all leave together. You’ll drive. He’ll be in the front seat. She’ll be handcuffed in the back seat with me.” She paused for a moment. “You do have handcuffs, don’t you?”

  Danny had a hard time not doing some kind of happy dance. There was a carving set in her dining room. If she could get to it, she’d be armed with something. “If I do, they’ll be in that leather case I put on the dining room table. I’ll go get them.”

  “No, you stay right where you are. I’ll go get them,” Barbara said.

  Once again Kaylea slipped an arm out of the cording that bound her to the chair and pulled at the towel over her mouth. “Run, Danny. Get help.” she yelled.

  “Dammit,” Barbara screamed. “Stay where you are.” Her voice was thin and tense. She gestured again with the gun and said to Danny, “Go get the handcuffs but no messing around in there. Get them and come back here. I’ll take care of missy over there.” She went to the back of the kitchen and Danny headed for the dining room.

  When she got to the other side of the dining room table, Danny pulled out a couple zip ties from her bag and said, in a conversational tone, “Barbara, I don’t have handcuffs but I do have plastic zip ties. We use them in place of handcuffs sometimes. Will that work for you?” She stuck two into her pants pocket as she spoke.

  Barbara didn’t turn to respond. She was concentrating too much on the squirming Kaylea in front of her. Danny nodd
ed at Kaylea who went into another episode of noise making and moving around. Barbara, seemingly frustrated at her inability to control the half-bound woman, put her weapon on the breakfast room table and yanked hard on the restraint, clearly hurting Kaylea with the action.

  Danny had started toward the sideboard, where the carving set was, when she heard the soft but distinctive sound of her front door opening and the click of her partner’s cowboy boots on the wooden floor in the living room behind her.

  She’d never been so glad to hear any sound in her life.

  Sam doused the dining room light, came up behind Danny, and whispered, “So, what’s the plan, partner?”

  Danny whispered back, “No plan. So far, it’s been strictly seat-of-the-pants.”

  “I’ve trained you well, Grasshopper. Where’s your weapon?”

  “Barbara has it.”

  “I take it back. I haven’t trained you well enough yet. Good thing one of us is still armed.”

  “Shut up, Sam. Where’s the rest of our backup?”

  “A bunch of our friends are outside waiting for me to tell them what to do. But I figured we could take care of this ourselves and let them do the cleanup.”

  “Then let’s get it done.”

  Motioning him to move to the right-hand side of the door to the kitchen, she went to the left just as Barbara finished re-securing Kaylea. A frown crossed Barbara’s face as she looked out into the darkened dining room. Picking up her gun, she walked to the door of the room.

  “What’s going on out here?” she asked.

  Danny and Sam each grabbed an arm and lifted her off the ground and she found out. With a sharp chop to Barbara’s right wrist, Danny disarmed her. Without firing a shot they had the situation under control.

  While Danny used the zip ties on Barbara, Sam signaled for the rest of the backup team to come in and got the EMTs for Jake. He was marginally conscious as they loaded him onto the gurney and Danny thought he was trying to say something to her. She knew if she went to him she would break down so she concentrated on getting Kaylea untied and onto a second gurney so she, too, could be taken to the hospital.