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A Twist of Betrayal

Page 4

by Allie Harrison


  “No, I haven’t seen or heard from Justine,” Hannah said.

  “Thanks,” he said, doing everything in his power to keep his voice sounding lighter than he felt. “If she happens to stop in, just let her know I called. She’s probably got her phone on vibrate or something. I’ll keep trying her.”

  He hung up and realized he still held the grout bucket in his hand. And that horrible feeling that something was terribly wrong still threatened to choke him. Dan dropped the bucket, and it hit the new tile with a heavy thud that echoed through the house.

  “Justine…”

  His truck was parked out front, and Dan raced to the front door with every intention of driving up to the grocery store and finding her. He had no idea how he knew something was wrong. He just did. He needed to get to his wife, and he needed to reach her now.

  There would be plenty of time later to work out the unwanted pregnancy and all the hurtful words. But first, he had to find Justine.

  Dan stopped short upon pulling the front door open.

  Steve Harlome stood on his doorstep, his finger poised at the doorbell just ready to ring it.

  “Justine?” Dan said, the single word coming out full of breath and nearly just as full of pain. His chest suddenly hurt, and it affected his voice.

  Steve swallowed hard and started to speak, but not quickly enough.

  “What the fuck?” It came out without him thinking. He forced a breath to calm his racing heart. “Something happened, didn’t it? Tell me what’s happened to my wife!”

  “She was taken hostage,” Steve said bluntly, and Dan clearly heard his forced control. “By a guy who robbed the grocery store.”

  “Hostage? A robbery at Mike’s Supermarket?” He bit his tongue to keep from asking what the fuck again. This was small-town USA. Robberies and hostage situations did not happen here, not since he’d been here anyway. “Where are they? Where is she?” A sharp blade of terror sliced through him, causing his knees to feel weak. He should have known something like this was bound to happen. This might be a small town, but she was the wife of a police officer. That made her a target. If it wasn’t enough, the fact that she was a public defender did. What if some defendant didn’t like the job she did for him?

  If anything happened to her…

  He couldn’t finish the thought. He’d suddenly stepped into a living nightmare from which there was no escape, no waking. It was this nightmare that was enough to keep him telling himself he didn’t need kids.

  “He headed north, up Highway 17,” Steve replied, his voice sounding much more controlled than Dan thought his own had. “A chopper’s on the way. It will be easier to find them from the air—”

  Dan slid past Steve and raced toward his truck.

  “You can’t just go tearing off after them!” Steve called.

  “Watch me,” Dan muttered.

  “Dan, wait!”

  But Dan didn’t wait. Rocks flew with the spinning of the truck tires as he sped away from the house. His heart raced just as quickly as the rest of him did.

  He had to find her. He had to reach her. He had to save her.

  If he left so many words unsaid following their argument, what kind of husband did that make him? If he didn’t save her, what kind of cop did that make him? The same cop who told himself he couldn’t keep kids safe from the world or from themselves, so he was better off never having them. The same cop who couldn’t save his own partner…

  Dan pushed that thought aside.

  Highway 17 was a stretch of pavement fourteen miles long before reaching the next small town of Getzville. It held a few curves and a few hills, which were no problem for Dan. But the several back roads that intersected with it did pose a problem, a big problem. Dan knew where almost every road led, but he couldn’t follow them all.

  After speeding several miles up Highway 17, Dan pulled over to the shoulder of the highway and stopped, realizing Steve was right. He couldn’t just go tearing off after them. They could be anywhere by now, moving in any direction. And now he was out here wasting time.

  He’d let his emotions rule his actions instead of waiting for the chopper so that he would at least know which direction to start.

  In a surge of frustration, he slammed his hand against the steering wheel.

  Dan got out of the truck. In his line of duty, he’d faced weapons, unpredictable suspects, dead bodies, and despondent families. There had only been one other time in his life that he had felt anything remotely close to the terror he now felt. That had been when he’d seen his partner and friend, Adam, get shot and killed. It could have been Dan who’d gotten killed, but Adam had gone in first. And there hadn’t been a damned thing Dan could do to stop the shooting or save his partner.

  Just like now. Dan couldn’t stop this. Did that mean he couldn’t save Justine?

  His wife was in the hands of a madman.

  Dan clenched his fists.

  “Oh, Jus, I’m so sorry,” he said out loud.

  A car whipped past him, and he felt the breeze of it. He took a long look around. On his side of the highway was farmland, recently harvested fields. The birds chirped. Three more cars moved past him.

  Somewhere ahead, he thought he heard the distant sounds of sirens. On the other side of the highway, he saw the entrance to the closed-for-the-season Lakeside Campground. He stared at the sign that was partially covered by the trees, but he didn’t really see it. He was too overwhelmed by the worry of what this guy might do to Justine.

  Justine. His wife. The woman who held his heart in her hand.

  What would she want of him now?

  What would she expect of him?

  She expected him to be a cop, to protect and serve. She expected him to save her.

  Dan didn’t think he could save her, he could hardly think past the worry that gripped him like long fingers with sharp fingernails ready to scratch out his heart.

  Then, it suddenly didn’t matter what this guy did to her or even if he didn’t do anything physical to her at all. “Oh, I’m going kill you, you bastard,” Dan said. “Slowly. There is nowhere you can hide from me.”

  He now knew what others felt when they opened door to find him standing on their step. And he nearly shook with frustration. It was like boiling lava in him. He had to let it out.

  “Justine!” He called suddenly as if she could hear him. His voice, the single word he’d yelled at the top of his lungs, echoed through the trees of the campground. He thought the sound must have bounced off the lake beyond the campground then and bounced back to him.

  He turned back to the door of the truck with every intention of climbing back in and leaving, to go back to the scene of the crime and see how he could help the investigation.

  “Dan!”

  The sound of her voice coming from the campground startled him, and Dan froze upon hearing it. Had he imagined it?

  No, he couldn’t have.

  It wasn’t possible that he could be this close, be this lucky. Besides, he didn’t believe in luck.

  “Justine!” he called again. He wasted no time racing across the highway and heading toward the campground entrance. His heart raced faster than his feet could move. She was so close. He thought he could almost feel her and was afraid to believe it.

  “Dan, he’s got a gun!”

  Those words were enough to stop Dan in his tracks in a small clearing. The guy had a gun, and Dan didn’t. Still dressed in old jeans and a T-shirt, grout under his nails and drying out his hands, his gun was at home locked in his bureau, as it always was when he was at home off duty. Even better, his cell phone was on the kitchen counter.

  In the same instant he realized the situation he’d fallen into, he saw them. Just in front of him. Justine on her knees, her hands in handcuffs, dried blood on her face that he fought to ignore. Still, his breath caught at the sight of it. He vowed the man holding her was going to bleed like that, maybe worse. The man beside her who held her on her knees held a gun in his other hand.
A gun pointed at Dan. If there was ever a time to think like a cop, it was now.

  Dan took a long, hard look at the man. He recognized a phony disguise when he saw one. So he stared at the man’s eyes, searching for recognition, storing what he saw deep in his mind so that he’d never forget them.

  And yes, recognition was there…

  Chapter 5

  Dan swallowed hard and forced himself to take a deep breath, working to calm his racing heart and emotions. He wanted to rush to his wife, but he didn’t dare take the risk.

  “How’d you find us?” Justine’s kidnapper asked.

  Dan shrugged. “What difference does it make?” Dan saw no reason to waste time telling this career criminal that he was so in tune to his wife, the power of their love brought them together. Dan knew with this man, explanations would be futile. He also wasn’t ready to admit that perhaps fate or even a stronger power from above had led him there. Dan also didn’t see the need to tell him that he would have searched the world for Justine.

  It would just give this bastard more power.

  “You’re making a mistake,” Dan said. He stalled for time, trying his damnedest to think of something—anything that would get his wife out of this mess unharmed. But while seconds ticked by, he realized that Steve might come after him and find his truck. He wasn’t so sure he wanted that, either.

  The man chuckled bitterly. “It wouldn’t be my first, apparently.”

  “If you want a hostage, take me instead.” He took a step closer. “It’s not her you want, anyway.”

  “No,” Justine muttered.

  Dan didn’t look at her. He kept his gaze glued on the guy with the gun. He knew in his heart if he looked at his wife, if he saw the fear in her eyes, he might do something stupid that he would definitely regret later. As soon as they got through this, he would look at her. He would tell her how much he loved her and he’d kiss her.

  He moved to take another step closer, but he stopped when his walking nightmare shifted his hold on the gun and pointed it at Justine’s temple.

  “But you’re wrong.”

  As soon as Dan stopped advancing, the gun was moved from Justine and back on him.

  “I do want her.” Her abductor spoke in clear, concise words. “And I think you know I won’t hesitate to hurt you in order to keep her. Just as I won’t hesitate to hurt her to get to you. I could easily shoot both your knees and allow you to watch as I show you just how much I want her. Would you like that?”

  “No,” Dan said without hesitation.

  “Then don’t come any closer,” he warned.

  “Let her go and I’ll let you live.”

  “What happened to the oath you took, Officer Franklin, to protect and to serve?”

  “It doesn’t pertain to you.”

  “Well, then I don’t think I have a choice, do you?”

  Then quickly, the kidnapper moved and shifted the gun still pointing it in Dan’s direction. Dan couldn’t dive out of the line of fire quick enough.

  Everything happened at once. The gun went off, sending the crack of an explosion echoing through the campground. Dan was aware of Justine’s scream and the sounds of movement, the rustle of the trees.

  Dan felt the sharp, cold gust of air whip past his arm. It was followed by the burning of sudden pain. He swore under his breath and laid on the ground. How was he supposed to save his wife if he was shot?

  He found himself flat on his back, lying on a soft carpet of pine needles looking at the blue sky. He grit his teeth to keep from crying out because of the horrific pain in his arm. The warmth of his blood hit the cool air. He forced himself up. He had to save Justine. But he knew before he even raised himself from the ground that she and her assailant were gone.

  Somewhere farther away, Justine was screaming, and her screams were fading with distance. Then he heard the sliding of a door, then a slam. A van door.

  Dan pulled himself to his feet. He had to stop them. He had to. An engine burst into life. He ran in the direction of the sound. It didn’t sound too far away.

  He ignored the blood drenching his sleeve. He tried to ignore the wave of dizziness that washed over him. It was harder to fight as the dizziness continued to build, and when he tripped over a dead branch, he found himself on the ground again.

  By the time he hauled himself to his feet, he could hear the sound of the engine fading with their departure. He knew he couldn’t catch them, not on foot, not without help. So instead of chasing after them in the direction they’d gone, he turned and headed back to his truck. He had a radio inside. He cursed himself now for not thinking to use it to call for help when he first heard Justine in the campground.

  It was merely a moment later that he was on the radio calling for help. But it was the longest moment of his life. It took everything he possessed not to climb into his truck and go after his wife. But his arm was bleeding, and with the headache and dizziness that still threatened, he couldn’t take the chance getting behind the wheel. He would do Justine no good by crashing his truck into a tree or worse—a family of five on their way to pick pumpkins.

  So he waited for help. Then as if his strength left him along with the blood streaming from the wound on his arm, he opened the door and allowed himself to sink until he sat on the edge of the seat in the truck. He stared at the sign of the entrance to the campground and tried not to think of what that madman might do to Justine. Or about the dried blood on her face. Or the way she looked up at him with her big, brown eyes just like he remembered she did the first night he met her.

  Chapter 6

  Six Years Ago

  The cold rain had soaked the back of Dan’s jacket, but he didn’t care. All he could think about was the woman he just pulled over. Justine Albright. The name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. He was only two months on the job in this small town, and he couldn’t remember everybody.

  But he knew he would never forget the soft features of her face. He especially liked the way her dark eyes sparkled with anger as she argued over the ticket he’d given her. He somehow knew her eyes would sparkle the same way when they were filled with passion. He also knew she would try to hide that passion behind her long lashes. He chuckled at the idea. Even now with her gone on her way, her large eyes haunted him, and he wanted to find out just how passionate she could be.

  Her dark hair fell just past her shoulders. The rain sent curl into it, he’d noticed, a curl he found highly enticing. It had taken every ounce of control he possessed not to reach in through her open window and touch it, just to see if it was as soft as it looked.

  But what grabbed him the most was her rich, throaty voice. He could just imagine how it would sound if she whispered in his ear. He’d been caught by that flash of fire when she’d said, “Don’t you know who I am?” And he’d replied that he didn’t care. He did care, but it had nothing to do with her ticket.

  Later that morning, he was due in court to testify against a suspect he’d arrested in possession of illegal drugs. The rain didn’t stop, and as predicted it began to freeze with the dropping temperature. The haunting image of Justine Albright didn’t stop, either. It remained in his mind as strong as if she were standing before him.

  That was why he was so shocked to see her in the courtroom standing behind the small table set up for the defendant. It dawned on him instantly why her name sounded familiar, and he probably would have known sooner had he run her name through the computer for a complete check instead of merely checking the registration.

  He saw his own shock and surprise mirrored in the look she passed him. “You?” she whispered.

  “Hello, Counselor,” he replied, forcing his shock away to keep his voice even.

  Then he saw something else, despite the way she pretended to look down and study her notes. He saw her fight the urge to grin.

  Dan didn’t fight the urge to grin, and when she hesitantly met his gaze, he made sure she saw it.

  Her ability to argue amazed him.
No wonder he’d seen such an angry flash in her eyes when she hadn’t been able to argue her way out of a speeding ticket. Her ability to present the case and put all the cards on the table—but to do it in a way that clearly led the judge to her side—amazed him just as much. She was small, petite, probably shorter than every other adult in the room, yet she took hold of the case like a tornado whipping its way in front of the judge. He found himself hardly able to wait for dinner with her later.

  Her deep voice struck the courtroom like the crack of a whip, demanding everyone’s attention.

  But through it all, he noticed when it was his turn to be questioned, her eyes sparkled at him like dark, brown fire. And boy, did she ever have the ability to twist words around.

  “And you continued your pursuit of the defendant on foot, is that correct, Officer Franklin?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he replied evenly, looking straight at her.

  “And did you at any time during that pursuit lose sight of the defendant?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “So he was out of your sight,” she interrupted. “For how long?”

  “I don’t know,” he had to answer honestly.

  “One second?” she quipped. “One minute? Longer?”

  “One minute perhaps,” he replied.

  “And when you caught him, did you search him?”

  “After I had him subdued and handcuffed.”

  “And did you find any illegal substances on his person?” she asked.

  He found himself caught in the darkness of her eyes. “No,” he was forced to admit.

  “But you’re convinced the substances you found in the trash dumpster en route of your pursuit are his?”

  “Yes.”

 

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