Yuletide Protector (Love Inspired Suspense)

by Lisa Mondello

  She forced her eyes open again. Everything was blurry and refused to come into view. It was almost surreal. Nothing made any sense.

  With great effort, Daria tried to lift her head. She had to get out of here, wherever here was.

  A strange scent permeated the air. She’d smelled it before. Grease and grime. But Daria couldn’t place it.

  Kevin. Where was he? Would he ever find her? A sob bubbled up her throat, choking her, as it dawned on her that she might never see him again. She’d never had the chance to tell him she loved him. And she did. She loved Kevin with all her heart.

  Lord, I know it has taken me a long time to find You. I have Kevin to thank for that. I don’t know what to say in prayer. Only that I’m scared and I need Your guidance in any way that can help me or Kevin fight against George.

  The words flowed through her mind easily. After a few seconds Daria realized she’d been speaking aloud.

  “I don’t know if You can hear me, Lord,” she said. “Please tell me what to do.”

  A bright light passed by an opening in the compartment. It illuminated the space just enough for Daria to make out her surroundings. A large set of steel teeth bent into the opening of what looked like a car door. The noise of the steel teeth against metal jarred her. There was no upholstery, no bench seats or rugs on the floor of what she now realized was the shell of a car.

  A feeling of renewed terror consumed her. Gears switched and groaned, shrieks of metal cried out as the crane lifted the skeleton of the car in the air. Then, as quickly as it started, it stopped and she was left with only the sound of her pounding heart.

  For a moment, Daria felt as light as a feather, floating down in a free fall until the hard, cold metal beneath her slammed into the earth below. Her head bounced up and then snapped back, bringing bright white spots in front of her eyes along with a sharp pain. And then her world went black again.

  FIFTEEN

  It was a hunch. But it was worth pursuing if it could save someone’s life—save Daria’s life.

  “We weren’t sloppy that night, Kev,” Jake said as he rode in the front seat of the SUV, blue lights flashing on the side streets as they made their way to the salvage yard. “There’s no way we could have known Dawson was involved.”

  “Yeah, we did it right,” he said, yet knowing that brought little relief. “We just weren’t as cunning as Carlisle and his buddy.”

  “If Carlisle knew we were there, why would he go to all that trouble? Why not just have Dawson kill Daria right from the start while we were busy with him?”

  He cast Jake a hard look, squashing down the image that immediately came to mind. Thank God he hadn’t done that. But Jake was right. There were too many questions about Carlisle and his motives.

  “Carlisle is sick. He’s playing with us.”

  “What reason would he have for risking it?” Jake asked.

  “As long as I find Daria alive, I don’t care. Either way, I’m nailing Carlisle to the wall for taking her.”

  He eased on the brakes as he took the corner too fast, bending the SUV sharply to one side. Jake held on to the dash.

  The lights blazed on the top of the car and the siren screamed. Kevin wanted to warn people he was a man on a mission, desperate to find his woman. And he wanted Carlisle, Dawson and whoever else might be involved to hear him. He wanted them to know he was coming after them.

  The dog was going to be a problem, Kevin thought as they broke the lock on the gate.

  “Where’s Cujo?” Jake asked, glancing around for their unwanted Doberman friend.

  Kevin looked around, didn’t see the dog anywhere. But he could hear him. “It sounds like he might be locked up inside an office. His bark is too muffled. Keep alert. If Dawson and Carlisle are here, they’ll probably spring him on us.”

  “Wish I’d thought to bring a T-bone steak. Isn’t that the way it’s done in the movies?”

  It was a simple way of breaking the mounting tension, Kevin knew. Easy banter was sometimes the only way to get through a tense shift. Some called it sick, the kinds of jokes cops made about the things they’d seen. Others called it survival. Right now Kevin just wanted to survive the night so he could take Daria home. He so desperately wanted to know they still had a chance at a future together.

  Aside from the muffled barking, the salvage yard was eerily quiet as Kevin and Jake moved though the darkness, drawing on shadows and bearing their eyes down on nothing.

  “What makes you think they’re here?” Jake finally asked.

  “It just seems to fit. Dawson works here. Carlisle set up the meeting here. Daria mentioned something about George the day we’d met like I said earlier. And I know Carlisle is a twisted man, very into power games. This seems like the sort of thing that would appeal to him.”

  On the far side of the lot stood a crane with an arm that jutted out into the sky. Stacked in rows directly next to it were metal blocks that were once cars. Now they looked more like huge cardboard boxes that had been compacted together.

  “They’re here,” Kevin said.

  And just as if he could sniff them out, Kevin could hear it. Voices were raised in the corner of the lot. As they moved closer, the voices and the sound of the Doberman’s bark grew louder. The dog was definitely inside.

  He glanced at Jake, just a quick look that signaled their next move. They slipped into the shadows, listening for the sudden release of the dog, as they crept closer to the building.

  Anger surged through Kevin as he approached the two men standing in front of the office door. His gun was snug against his palm, his feet firmly planted on the ground. He and Jake moved into position. The voices grew louder.

  Kevin’s eyes had acclimated to the darkness enough to distinguish between the two men. George Carlisle stood with his back to them, dressed as if he’d just gone out to an expensive restaurant for dinner. The other man must have been Terry Dawson. He stood sideways facing the yard, dressed in greasy overalls, his hair mussed as if he hadn’t showered in days.

  “I just want it done and over with. I can’t take any more of this,” Carlisle said. “Brickster is on my back and that’s your fault. If Daria had left town like I planned, you would have been able to get the job done in another city and I’d have my money.”

  “I told you. If you want me to kill her here, you have to pay me more,” Dawson said. “You know the first person they’re going to look at is me if they find your ex-wife’s body here. I want half the money so I can split.”

  “Half of nothing is nothing if we both get caught. Just get it over with and then find a way for them to find her body later, somewhere else. You’ve got connections. Now use them.”

  “Brickster’s the one with connections. He’ll use them if it means finally getting his money. But it’ll cost you.”

  Carlisle sneered at Dawson. “Just get the job done.”

  Jake moved slowly in the other direction to circle around to the other side, careful not to let Carlisle spot him.

  “These things can’t be rushed,” Dawson said. “If this comes back to me—”

  “If you do your job right, it won’t. Now, if you want your two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, you need to get to work. That bag of crack you have isn’t going to last you very long, now, is it?”

  “Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. You’d better not screw me.”

  Carlisle made a motion as if he was flicking a fly off his shoulder. “I’m in as deep as you are. Now get it done or neither of us gets paid.”

  Kevin inched closer, still in the shadows, mindful of the noises around him. The grit of dirt under the soles of his boots, the sound of a car in the intersection down the street peeling out as the light changed from red to green.

  He squeezed behind a Dumpster. When he emerged on the other side, Dawson had disappeared and Jake was gone.

  Carlisle stood on the grease-stained tar in his Bruno Magli shoes and neatly pressed pants. His leather-gloved fists were planted at his
sides and his body was rigid.

  By the sound of the argument, Carlisle had been too preoccupied to hear Kevin’s approach. Quickly and stealthily, he moved in behind Carlisle and shoved the barrel of the gun against the back of his neck.

  Through clenched teeth, Kevin growled. “What have you done with her?”

  George started to laugh. “Bang, bang, I guess I’m dead.”

  “No, you’re very much alive, I’m happy to see. But you’re going to wish you were dead if you hurt Daria.”

  “What makes you so sure I hurt Daria at all?”

  “Where is she?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  In one quick move, George twisted around, pulling a gun from the pocket of his jacket as he moved. Keeping a close watch on the gun, Kevin grabbed Carlisle’s wrist, but didn’t miss George’s other fist as it connected with his jaw.

  The blow was softened by the gloves George was wearing, but Kevin was momentarily stunned by the impact. He struck back with the butt of his gun, hitting Carlisle square in the nose. Holding tight to George’s hand, he twisted the man’s arm behind his back until Carlisle was hunched over, staring at the dirt.

  “On the ground,” he hollered, pushing George and his pristine suit down. He removed the gun, kicking it away from them before handcuffing George.

  George spat out blood and then rolled halfway over, glancing up at Kevin.

  Kevin shoved the gun in George’s face. “Where is she?”

  “My, my. Does Daria know about this mean streak of yours?” he taunted.

  “You’re going to rot in jail, Carlisle.”

  “If I am, then just know that Daria will be rotting, too. But she’ll be in the ground and I’ll collect my one million dollars in life insurance.”

  “Insurance money? That’s what this is about?” Kevin reeled for a moment under the impact of this new information, but soon pulled himself together. “How do you suppose you’re going to manage that? Insurance companies don’t pay out for murders.”

  “You see, I have that covered. Dawson here thinks he’s getting a cut. But he’s the one who’s going to jail. He’s the criminal. I’ve set it up so that it looks as if he’s been blackmailing me for drug money. And when I refused to pay him anymore, he killed Daria in desperation.”

  “You’re finished, Carlisle. You’re going down with Dawson whether you like it or not.”

  George’s smile was vile. “You played the game well, Gordon. I just didn’t expect that you’d be so moral and watch over Daria yourself. You see, you were just a pawn. Dawson was always going to be the one to kill Daria. But I needed to cast doubt first. I needed the police to harass me enough to watch my every move. You were going to be my alibi while Daria left town and Dawson killed her somewhere else. Sure, I’d be a suspect. The husband always is. But the evidence would show that I was only an innocent bystander in an extortion scheme Dawson set up to get drug money from me.”

  Realization of the part he’d played in George’s plan burned in his gut. “Daria didn’t leave town.”

  “I didn’t expect her to be so attached to that dump she lives in. Or to you. But I did count on Dawson being stupid. He thinks he’s getting paid.” Carlisle chuckled, a trickle of blood spilling out of his mouth where Kevin had hit him. “For all his brains, he’ll take the fall. Daria will be dead. And I’ll get my money. The public will be outraged that you allowed Daria to die on your watch.

  “You know, it would have been a whole lot easier if you’d just let her leave. I knew she was going to want to stay in her house. But sooner or later she would have gotten scared and left on her own. By that time, my story would have been cemented. The police department would have been suspect for harassment. You would have Dawson’s prints on file. But you wouldn’t leave her alone. So you see, it’s your fault she is where she is right now.”

  “Tell me where she is or—”

  “You’ll pull the trigger? No, you won’t. You’re too moral a cop for that.”

  They were wasting precious time. Jake must have called for backup, because Kevin could hear the sirens in the distance coming closer.

  A cruel smile crept up Carlisle’s face. “Wonderful. The cavalry is on the way. Go ahead and arrest me. I have set it all up beautifully. I have proof that Dawson was extorting money from me. Your bank records will show that you hired police officers to watch me and Daria. You would never lie about seeing me in the parking lot while Daria’s house was being broken into. A jury will believe that the only reason I am here right now is to save Daria when I found out that Dawson was trying to kill her.

  “You see, I have a letter that poor Dawson wrote to me upon my request while he was…under the influence. It states his intentions to kill Daria if I don’t pay him a certain amount of cash.” Carlisle laughed. “The poor fool doesn’t even remember writing it. But with that evidence, coupled with police-department harassment, my lawyer will have no trouble getting me out of jail inside of an hour. You’ll be investigated for your actions by Internal Affairs and you still won’t have your precious Daria. When it all blows over, me and my money will be gone. I call that sweet justice.”

  Kevin grabbed him by the collar, lifted him off the ground and slammed him back to the dirt again. “Tell me where she is!”

  “You’re just going to have to find her. But I warn you, it won’t be pretty.”

  Realization slammed hard into him as he heard the roar of a tractor in the far corner of the salvage yard. He stared down at Carlisle. The maniac’s eyes were bright and glowing. Kevin glanced over his shoulder to where George was looking. It was hard to see in the dark, but he managed to make out the outline of a compact car being suspended in the air by the arm of a crane.

  “Bye, bye, my sweet little Daria,” George muttered, before blowing a kiss to the wind.

  Kevin’s grip loosened and George dropped to the ground like a log.

  He swung around and watched the car dangling from the cable, swinging back and forth in the air. He knew the destination was the steel walls of the car crusher. “Please, God, no!” he screamed. “No!”

  The ropes were loosening. Daria’s jaw hurt from her teeth chattering, from the cold and from shock due to the blow to her head. The burning dread that had started out small in the pit of her stomach grew until it seemed to suck the air right from her lungs. She was going to die. She didn’t have a clue where she was or what the engine noises directly outside the stripped-down vehicle were, but it didn’t take a genius to know the odds were not good.

  The nausea that had enveloped her when she first woke up had subsided. Daria inched her body forward, pushing at the opposite side of the car to get closer to give herself leverage to lift up. She had to think fast. She had to move. She couldn’t die here in this car and not at least give it every ounce of energy she had to survive.

  She was just about able to rise onto her elbow when a screeching noise, followed by a bang on the roof of the car, startled her. As the car was lifted into the air, she lost her balance and smacked her head against the steel floor beneath her. Her cheek slammed against the metal and exploded with pain.

  She closed her eyes and thought back to a prayer she’d heard in church. For Thou wilt light my candle: the Lord my God will enlighten my darkness.

  If it was God’s will, Daria knew she would die. But not without every bit of fight she had left inside her.

  Kevin couldn’t see who was running the crane, but he had a good idea it was Dawson. The guy’s mind was about as twisted as the metal parts strewn about the salvage yard. Terror ripped through him thinking about what Daria had already been through.

  She was probably lying helpless in one of these cars ready to be crushed. He prayed she was still alive and that he would get to her in time.

  The words echoed in his head like a throbbing headache that wouldn’t go away. Kevin couldn’t stand to think of Daria dying that way. Please, Lord, if she has to die, don’t make her suffer that fate.
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  As he sprinted, dodging piles of scrap metal and cubes that used to be cars, he gauged the distance between the crane and car crusher and knew he would have to either be superhuman or granted a miracle from God to make it in time.

  Blood pumped through his veins as he saw the car lifting into the air, saw the sneer in Dawson’s eyes as he ground gears to move the mammoth arm of the crane to position the car above the crusher.

  Kevin ran, his eyes darting from the vehicle, to the man in the seat of the crane, to the ground he had left to cross. He wasn’t going to make it. The magnet holding the car released and the compact dropped into place between the thick walls of steel. His lungs burned, his chest pounded. Daria. His sweet, stubborn, wonderful Daria.

  “No!” he screamed from somewhere that sounded outside his body. A shot rang out and then another just as the walls slammed in around the car. “Daria!”

  Jake appeared, pushing a limp Dawson out of the driver’s seat. He took the controls of the crusher, but it was already too late. Metal squealed as it compacted into an object nearly one-third the size of its original form.

  There was another scream, harsh and loud and deafening that came from Kevin’s body. He felt the horror of what he’d just seen rip itself from his lungs and explode into the night as he fell to his knees.

  “Oh, God,” he cried. “No, please, God. This isn’t happening.”

  Kevin was vaguely aware of the sound of feet hitting the ground around him as he stared at the mangled metal, listening to the faraway sounds of sirens and tires screeching to a halt. Somehow, after all the noise and destruction, the world had gotten eerily quiet except in his head. The noise there was too unbearable.

  Kevin climbed to his feet and pushed forward, but was held back by force.

  “No. Don’t do it,” Jake said. “You can’t do this to yourself.”