Dream Walk (A Lacey Fitzpatrick and Sam Firecloud Mystery Book 4)

by Melissa Bowersock

  Lacey swallowed nervously. She locked eyes with Sam over the phone.

  “That’s why she’s so scared,” Sam said. “She’s been asking us where we’re looking, but as soon as I tell her, she ends the call.”

  “Did she know you were going to the park yesterday?” Adrian asked.

  “Yes. And she knew we were going to start checking storage places.”

  “She know what room you were in at the hotel?”

  “Yes.” Sam’s eyes burned with quiet anger. “So they’re using her to keep tabs on us. To follow our movements. And to make sure we don’t find Kyle.”

  The car was silent for a moment as they all assimilated this new development.

  “I, uh, don’t suppose I can talk you out of your plans for today? Get you to maybe lay low, see if we can find out more on our end?” Adrian’s voice was hopeful but not confident.

  “No way,” Sam said. “We’re close. I can feel it.”

  “And the closer you get, the more aggressive these guys will get,” Adrian said with a grim certainty.

  “We know that,” Lacey said. She met Sam’s eyes. “But we’re not giving up.”

  Adrian sighed. “All right. Tell me where you’re going today. I’ll have officers on patrol keep an eye out for you.”

  Lacey read him the names and addresses of the storage places they expected to get to. “Tell them to be on the lookout for a black Escalade, too,” she said.

  “I’ll do it. Hey, check in with me periodically, would you? Every few hours or so?”

  “Sure,” she said. “What are you doing about Courtney?”

  “Trying to get a fix on her phone.”

  “Good,” she said. “You need to get her away from those goons as soon as possible. We’ll touch base later on. Thanks, Adrian.”

  She keyed off the call, sat back in her seat and blew out a breath. “Holy cow. Did you ever think she was being held?”

  Sam shook his head. “All I got was that she was terrified; now I know why. It was easy to believe it was just because she was afraid of them coming after her. I never thought…”

  “Hey, don’t beat yourself up,” she said quickly. She could see in his troubled eyes that he felt guilt for not catching it. “You couldn’t know. You’re a medium, not a mind reader.”

  “Thanks for making that distinction,” he said. “I guess the good news is that as long as I can’t read her mind, she’s still alive.”

  They exchanged thoughtful looks. Lacey hoped it never came to it that he’d have to cope with two ghosts vying for his attention.

  The idea that their investigation could precipitate another death was sobering.

  “Well,” she said finally, starting the car, “let’s get on with it.”

  The first storage unit was a bust. There was no gas station within a block in any direction, just a warehouse beside it and a strip mall across the street. Sam crossed off that one on the map and directed Lacey to the next one.

  This one had a gas station, not directly across the street, but just a few lots down. Lacey pulled into the parking lot.

  “At least we’ve got our cover down pat,” she said.

  “Yeah, we’ve got enough pamphlets and business cards here to choke a horse.”

  They went through the usual drill with the property manager. Looking for a unit, not sure what size. As they toured the property, Lacey kept a close eye on Sam. When he caught her look, he shook his head.

  The third location was a no-go. It was on a small side street, across from nothing more than a weed-choked vacant lot.

  “Next,” she said, turning the car around.

  The fourth place was on a busy street, and as they approached, Lacey noted a large gas station ahead on the right.

  “It’s coming up,” Sam said. “Turn left up here.”

  Lacey steered the car into the left turn lane. She noticed Sam put the map down and sit up, looking around with interest.

  “Lace,” he said abruptly, “there’s a black SUV behind the gas station. I couldn’t get a good look at it; it’s behind the building.”

  “Okay,” she said, making her turn. “We’ll watch it.”

  Inside the office of the storage company, Lacey did the talking. Sam was distinctly preoccupied, and watched out the front window or pretended to peruse the empty boxes and moving supplies that crowded the office. When they started into the back lot with the office manager, he walked close to Lacey and whispered, “He’s here.”

  She nodded minutely and did her best to follow the patter of the manager as he showed them the smaller unit. While Lacey pretended to examine the unit, Sam looked outward, his eyes scanning the lot. She imagined him as a human radio dish, scanning back and forth for a signal.

  “Let’s look at the next size,” Lacey told the manager. He walked them to the last row on the lot, the perimeter road between the units and the ten-foot chain link fence. As he unlocked the garage door and raised it up, Sam grabbed Lacey’s wrist.

  “This is it,” he said in a low voice. Lacey could hear his certainty. He fairly vibrated with it.

  The manager showed Lacey the interior of the unit, and she tried to follow, but Sam was walking away.

  “Hey,” the man said. He called to Sam, then swung his questioning glance to Lacey.

  “Just a minute,” she said. She darted after Sam.

  He’d stopped few yards up the row. She joined him there, touched his arm with light fingertips.

  “Look,” he said. He motioned on up the row. A heavy-duty black pickup was backed up to a unit about eighty feet away. Three men were muscling a large plastic storage box into the bed.

  “That’s it,” Sam said. “They’re moving them. Call the cops—now.”

  Lacey turned back to the manager. “Can you lock the gate?” she asked. “So no one can get out?” She was already pulling her phone from her purse and scrolling through for Adrian’s number.

  “Lock—why?” he asked.

  “Those guys up there have a body in that box. It’s a drug gang. We can’t let them leave.”

  She punched the phone for Adrian. “Please,” she said to the manager as the phone rang, “lock the gate. Call 911.”

  “DelMonico.”

  “Adrian, we’ve got them. They’re here, moving the body.”

  “Where are you?”

  Lacey gave him the name of the outfit.

  A shot rang out. Sam dashed around the open doorway of the empty unit.

  “Lacey! What was that?” Adrian’s voice was frantic.

  “Sam, are you okay?” she called.

  “Yeah. Tell him to hurry. They’ve got more than one body.”

  “Hey,” the manager said. “What the hell is going—”

  “Hurry!” she told him. “Go lock the gate. Call 911. Shots fired.”

  The manager took off at a run. “Adrian, get down here,” she said into the phone. Without waiting for an answer, she tossed her phone into her purse, pulled out her gun and edged toward the open doorway.

  “Be careful,” Sam said. She inched forward, gun in hand, and peeked around the doorway. Two men were wrestling another box into the truck bed. A third was taking a bead on her.

  The shot whined past her. She ducked back and chambered a bullet. She snuck up on the doorway carefully, angling her gun around the corner before she peered around the edge.

  Another bullet struck the closed garage door next to her. She aimed and squeezed off a shot. Her bullet missed the gunman but pinged as it struck the truck behind him.

  All three men scrambled behind the truck. The gunman fired another shot that whined past Lacey and struck the inside wall of the unit where she and Sam were sheltering. She drew back into cover, took a deep breath, and inched forward again, sending another bullet into the truck.

  Then she got an idea. She aimed again, carefully, and put a slug into the front tire of the truck. She was sure she hit it; the sound it made was neither the tinny sound of striking metal nor the whine of hitt
ing the ground. But she saw no appreciable difference in the tire. She fired off another one into the back tire. Then she took dead aim on the engine compartment of the truck itself.

  Multiple bullets winged her way. She pulled back and heard the bullets strike metal around her.

  “Lacey,” Sam said behind her. She heard the worry in his voice.

  “I think I can disable the truck,” she said. “Come on, Adrian.” She pulled in a couple of deep, calming breaths.

  Then she was shooting again, breaking out the side window of the truck and putting another slug right through the side of the hood. She would have been deliriously happy to see the truck explode in flames, but knew hitting a sweet spot like that was a million to one shot.

  A volley of bullets answered her. She wasn’t sure if all three men were shooting now, but it was definitely more than one. She kept back out of the way and let the bullets go by.

  Then a crashing noise filled the air. She peeked out toward the front of the lot and saw the black Escalade barreling through the gate. One side of the gate slammed back on its hinges; the other half broke free of its top hinge and hung drunkenly as the Escalade pushed through. The SUV headed unerringly her way.

  “Incoming,” she told Sam. “Escalade.”

  She quickly decided that a good offense was the best defense. If the SUV drew level with the unit they were in, she and Sam would be sitting ducks. She edged as close to the open doorway as she could without showing herself to the men at the truck and fired at the SUV approaching from the opposite direction.

  Two bullets plugged in the front quarter panel; one broke out the windshield. The driver slammed on the brakes and the SUV swerved sideways and rocked to a halt. Lacey put a few more bullets into the side of the vehicle, breaking out one more side window. Then she was empty. Gunfire flashed back at her, zinging past her into the metal wall behind her.

  “Yikes,” she yelped, jumping back into the depths of the storage unit. “Sam, grab my purse. There’s another clip in there. I need it.”

  He found the clip as she yanked off the empty, and as soon as her hand was free, he tossed it to her. She set it and jammed it on.

  Now the tricky part was going to be finding a decent position to shoot from without exposing herself to one group of thugs or the other. She edged toward the open door slowly, taking aim on the front of the SUV.

  More shots forced her back. This was not good. The triangulation of the two groups left her no good position for both cover and attack. She let the bullets fly by as she racked her brain for a solution.

  A familiar crash sounded from the front of the lot. More backup for the thugs? If so, she and Sam were done for.

  More shots rang out, and were immediately answered. The gunfire was frantic, and could only mean one thing. She inched forward and peered around the doorway.

  Cops! A Metro prowler had angled to a halt between the Escalade and the gate. The two uniformed officers were barricaded behind the patrol car, and all the attention of the thugs in the Escalade was focused on them. Lacey edged out further and fired off a couple shots at the Escalade. In answer, several bullets from the pickup truck in back forced her to duck and cover.

  “Lacey!” Sam called.

  “I’m okay,” she said. “Cops are here.”

  She kept down, listening to the gun play. Again it was concentrated on the battle in the front between the Escalade and the cops. Lacey took the opportunity to sneak to the far wall of the storage unit and creep toward the front, knowing she was hidden from the truck.

  She strained forward. The Escalade was diagonal to her, the front angled toward the chain link fence. One man sheltered behind the front and squeezed off shots at the cops. Others—she didn’t know how many—shot from the interior out the broken back window.

  The side of the prowler was riddled with bullet holes. The two officers were dug in. There was little they could do than stay down out of sight and squeeze off the occasional shot.

  Lacey thought she might be able to take out the man in front if she aimed carefully and took her time. She leaned back against the wall of the unit and raised her gun.

  Sirens and flashing lights distracted her. Adrian’s Explorer pulled in behind the patrol car, and other Metro vehicles came behind him. The firefight ramped up a notch, driven by desperation.

  She turned her attention back to the man outside the Escalade. All she could see was his head and one shoulder. She aimed for the thickest part, the meaty shoulder. Holding her breath, she squeezed off a shot.

  And winged him. He jerked sideways and dropped down below the car. She held her aim, waiting for him to pop up again.

  Instead, he came sideways, low around the front of the SUV. Lacey saw the gun, saw the flash, and felt the bullet slam into her, knocking her sideways to the ground.

  Lacey!” Sam’s voice, an anguished cry. He was at once on top of her, shielding her, and dragging her back. She wanted to struggle, wanted to get back into the fight. She tried to push against him, but wasn’t actually sure she could move her arms. He rolled her over on her back. There was blood streaking his face.

  “Sam?” She felt herself starting to float. She put her fingertips to his face.

  “I’ve got you,” he said. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  Like a balloon escaping the grasp of a child, she lifted up and away into darkness.

  ~~~

  FIFTEEN

  The darkness faded only gradually. Lacey’s eyes saw nothing but gray, just a fuzzy, medium gray. She tried to open her eyes, but her lids felt heavy. She managed to raise them a fraction.

  The room was dim. Faint, salmon-colored walls. Her body stretched out before her.

  She tried to turn her head. Something grabbed at her left shoulder, the sharp talons of an eagle digging into the muscle. She sucked in a breath.

  “Lacey?”

  A dark form rose up beside her. A gentle hand on her right arm.

  “Sam?” She thought she pushed the name out, but couldn’t hear the sound.

  “I’m here, Lacey,” he said. “Just rest.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. Just rest, Lacey. Just rest.”

  She sank back into the darkness.

  ~~~

  The next time she awoke, the room was still dim but light leaked around the edges of vertical blinds and glowed faintly. It took too much effort to move her eyes, so she just allowed her head to roll sideways. One of those high, narrow hospital tables, a chair…

  Sam, sleeping. Sprawled in the chair, his head propped against the wall behind him, snoring softly.

  Lacey smiled to herself and was surprised it didn’t hurt. Everything else did. Her body felt like she’d been trapped in a dryer and tumbled for several cycles. She tried raising her right arm, but it was too heavy. She could see an IV running to a stent there. She rolled her head over and checked her left arm. Bandaged, in a sling. She moved one finger, and that eagle was back, digging its talons into her shoulder.

  “Uh!” She yelped, her body reflexively pulling in a sharp gulp of air, then tightening to stay very still until the pain went away.

  “Lacey?” Sam was on his feet beside her. She very carefully rolled her head back toward him.

  “I woke you up,” she murmured.

  “That’s okay,” he said. He slid his hand into hers, squeezing gently. “How do you feel?”

  “Like shit,” she said. She tried to laugh, but her body wouldn’t accommodate her. “My shoulder,” she said. “What…?”

  He pulled the chair up close to the bed and sat down, never letting go of her hand. “You took a bullet in your upper arm. Luckily it didn’t hit the bone, but the doctors had to dig it out of you. The muscle’s pretty chewed up. You’ll need some physical therapy for a while.”

  She studied his face as he spoke. His dark eyes were limpid pools; she could see both worry and relief there, as well as dark circles from lack of sleep.

  “What day is it?”

/>   “Saturday.” He glanced at a clock on the wall. “It’s six-thirty.”

  “Morning?”

  “Yeah. You slept like a log.”

  “But you didn’t.”

  He shrugged. “I had a lot on my mind.”

  “And I had drugs,” she joked. “I’m sorry.”

  “No,” he said. “Everything’s going to be okay. It’s all over.”

  “Kyle?”

  He leaned one elbow on the bed, held her hand to his cheek, and brushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “He’s okay. He came to me last night to thank me… and to say goodbye. He was standing up, straight and tall. Filled with light. He’ll go on now. Smarter. Better.”

  “I hope the next life won’t be so hard,” she said.

  “No, he’ll do better. He’s learning, growing. We all are.”

  A nurse bustled in. “Ah, you’re awake. Good. How are you feeling?” She went to the window and tilted the blinds to allow more light in.

  “Beat up,” Lacey said.

  “Well, you’re doing great,” the nurse said. “How about some juice?”

  Just the thought brought saliva to her dry mouth. “Oh, yes, please,” she said. “That would be wonderful.”

  “Apple or cranberry?”

  “Apple, please.”

  “Coming right up.” The door whispered closed behind her.

  Lacey turned back toward Sam. “And the bad guys?”

  “All caught, at least the ones that didn’t get killed.” He saw the question in her eyes. “I don’t know how many. I saw one guy lying on the ground, lots of blood. But I don’t know. I think some of the cops got shot, too, but not seriously.”

  “Adrian?”

  “He’s fine. He’s been camped outside, doing paperwork. He said—”

  The door whispered open and Adrian strode in. He looked rumpled and tired, but wore a smile.

  “They said you were awake. How are you feeling? Morning, Sam.”

  Sam nodded to him.

  “I’ve been better,” Lacey said. “But I won’t complain.”

  Adrian stood at the foot of the bed, grinning like a fool. “You’re gonna be fine. But I’m sure Sam’s told you that.”