I open the door to see Paige at the receptionist desk and find I was not wrong. The reception area of the office is totally swank and classy. Yeah, their firm is doing well.
“Paige?” I call, “When did you start working here?”
“Well….” her face contorts with her answer. “I’ve worked here off and on for a year or two. I can’t seem to decide on a career, so my dad insists I work here. I’m pretty sure it’s punishment for being indecisive and lame,” she informs me while shrugging her shoulders.
Grinning at her, I ask on, “You get to work here and think about career options, huh? Come to any conclusions?”
“No, but I can cross off working for my dad, brother and uncle. This is not fun and sure is motivating me to make a quicker decision! I mean, who wants to work for their brother? It’s embarrassing, plus he’s driving me insane! He’s even more obnoxious than he was when we were kids.”
“I bet,” I say laughing at her. Getting to know the Carpino’s over the last few months has been interesting to say the least. I’ve learned that Paige has her own sort of crazy and is downright funny.
Gino walks out of the hallway that must lead to their offices and says, “Jude, thanks for coming. We’re in the conference room.” Then looking to Paige, he says, “Hold the calls. We’ll be a while.”
Paige, in a super obnoxious manner, gives him a salute and says, “Yes sir, Mr. Carpino. Are you sure I can’t fetch you a coffee first? Order your lunch? Make some copies? File anything?”
Gino slowly closes his eyes and shakes his head. I’m thinking everyone is probably hoping Paige comes to a decision sooner rather than later about a career choice. Grinning at Paige, I move to follow Gino through the hallway and into an equally impressive conference room with a long rectangular table with seating for twelve. Tony, his dad, and Nic are all standing and from their posture, I can tell something is wrong. I immediately stop and hear Gino close the door behind me.
“What’s going on?” I ask impatiently, not liking their stance or the vibe they’re giving off. My thoughts immediately go to Gabby. I left her this morning in her basement workroom refinishing furniture and I just talked to her an hour ago.
The four of them give each other knowing looks, but it’s Tony, Sr. that starts, “Jude, there’s something you should know, something Gabby doesn’t know. We tried to protect her from this, but some things have happened and that’s about to change.”
He pauses and looks at his brothers and son, then back to me. Finally I say, “What the hell? Are you going to make me guess?”
Finally Nic lays it out, “We have a significant reason to believe Luka and Meredith’s car accident wasn’t an accident. We thought this back when it happened, but they couldn’t find any evidence. There were no signs of skidding on the road, no other vehicles on the highway that night to cause the accident, but the police thought there could be foul play with the steering in their SUV. The investigations came up empty and they couldn’t prove anything because the wreckage was so bad.” He pauses to take in air and all I can do is clench my fists and keep listening, “We didn’t know who it could be back then and without proof we decided not to tell Gabby, so that’s on us. But now, we’re thinking there’s a reason to tell her.”
Not able to move a muscle because none of this can be good, I ask, “And that reason is what?”
Gino goes on, “We got a call this morning from Nebraska Corrections, there has been rumblings going around and they’ve heard the Carpino name being whispered. They started putting two and two together, finally made four. After interrogating inmates, they figured out that an inmate in for Second Degree was just released last week after serving a quarter. That man’s name is Dwayne Pope, he’s known on the street as The Pope if you can believe that shit because he thinks he managed an empire before he was sent down. If you call a gang of street thugs an empire, then I guess he did. Twenty five years ago he held up two high school kids on a date, it got out of hand, the boy barely lived. Pope raped and killed the girl. They couldn’t nail him on First Degree, but he went down for Second with Aggravated Circumstance. Luka prosecuted him when he was still an Assistant DA. It was a high profile case that shook the community. They were good kids, honor roll, just set to graduate from high school and both going to college on scholarships. Luka left the DA’s office shortly after when we formed the practice,” Gino takes a breath after laying out the horror story. The four of them look at each other and then back to me.
“There’s more?” I ask.
Gino continues, “Yeah. Some of Pope’s crew who were in for unrelated charges were released a few years ago. Specifically, four years and five months ago. The rumblings heard from the inside are saying they messed with Luka’s car, affirming what we’ve thought for years, their death was no accident. But even more, the reason they’re hearing what they’re hearing now is that Pope isn’t finished. He wants his hand in retaliation and has been talking big and arrogant about his plans. We’re worried that this could be directed at Gabby.”
Red. All I can see is red and I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. But wait. Fucking hell! I can barely get the word out to whisper, “Hangups.”
“Come again?” Tony asks.
“Hangups. Last week, Gabby mentioned she’s had some hangups. A couple at home and on her cell. I even looked into it without her knowing, couldn’t find anything. Trever Harper is still in jail awaiting trial and you all know Leigh’s asshole husband has checked himself into an inpatient drug treatment program, probably trying to make a defense for himself that he was strung-out when he beat her. I asked her casually about it, she hasn’t had anymore, so I didn’t want to scare her.” Now realizing she is home by herself for the first time in a long time because today Leigh is starting her new job, I murmur, “Fuck.” I turn on my heel and storm out of the conference room and barely hear them following me.
I’m at a jog when I make it through reception and hear Paige call my name as I pull the door to the office, slamming it open and make the decision to take the stairs, foregoing the elevator. As I do this, I pull out my phone to call Gabby. It rings, rings, rings. I hear her soft voice come at me through the phone letting me know she’s busy and to leave a message. Disconnecting, I try her at home and get the same. I exit the building at a flat out run, listening to her uncles and cousin trailing me. I turn to yell, “She’s not answering either phone!”
I make it to my truck as Tony yells to his dad and uncles, “I’m with Jude.” He climbs in and we race to the house, God willing, to find Gabby safe and sound.
*****
“They’re rounding them up, already have two in custody and we aren’t wasting time taking them to the station. Their asses are on the curb in cuffs and we’re talkin' to them here. I’ll let you know if we come up with anything,” Mac informs me.
I’m standing in the driveway next to Gabby’s Tahoe. The property is swarming with police, finger printing her vehicle and questioning neighbors to see if they saw anything. It’s been two hours since I’ve talked to her. I’m on the edge of losing it.
When Tony and I pulled up, her Tahoe was backed half way out of the garage, running with the driver’s door open and her cell lying in the console. Her purse was gone, the house alarm was set so he must have gotten to her on her way out. Omaha PD, along with the agents in my office, have been rounding up Pope’s followers to question them on what they might know and where he could possibly take her.
“I want properties pulled that could be in his name or any of his crew. I also want every location listed in his criminal history,” I order.
“We’re already on it. I’ll call you as soon as we get that list together,” Mac disconnects.
He’s been in jail for twenty five years, where in the fuck would he take her? I rake my hands through my hair, trying to keep my shit together instead of counting the minutes as they tick by and what that could mean for Gabby, especially knowing what he was capable of twenty five years ago.
Wait, twenty five years ago.
“Gino!” I yell across the yard where he’s huddled with his brothers as I make my way to them. “Where did he kill the girl twenty five years ago? At the scene or did he take her to a second location?”
I see Gino’s face contort in a mix of realization and horror, as he whispers, “He took her somewhere. They found her body days later in a field outside of town where he dumped her, but he raped and killed her in an old building on that farm used for storage, just north of town.”
At that time, my cell rings and it’s Mac. I answer saying, “North of town, the location where he murdered the girl twenty five years ago.”
“That’s what we got from these dimwits. It was his grandparents’ farm,” he said as I move to my truck. “I’m getting the address as we speak, but head north on highway 680. I’ll call you right back. We’re south of you, but we’re heading that way and I’ll get units radioed out right away.”
“Right,” I answer and hang up already in my truck, realizing Tony is coming with me again. “His grandparents used to own the farm where he killed the girl. It’s our only lead, we’ll head there and pray we’re not too late,” I say to Tony.
Tony is pulling out his phone as he mutters, “This cannot be happening, get to her fast, Jude.”
I speed north, my chest so tight it feels like it could burst in two thinking three hours ago I was finding myself lucky enough to find love twice, but now praying it’s not ripped away for a second time in my life. Trying not to let myself think about it, but knowing in the back of my head there’s no way I’ll be able to make it through that loss again.
*****
It’s so cold. I was just running out to buy more sandpaper and I’m not dressed to be in these conditions. We’re inside, but this building is old and dilapidated that I not only hear, but feel the wind whistling through the walls. I’ve got to keep my wits about me, but I’m covered in blood, shaking from the fear and cold combined. I feel both down to my bones. Hearing the door bang again, I look up and see him walk in, this time holding an old rag to his shoulder where I shot him. He’s looking pale, probably from the loss of blood, but still giving me a murderous look from his evil eyes. Not knowing who he is or why he wants me, I try not to panic and stay calm, looking for any opportunity for escape.
I barely had my car backed out of the garage when my door was ripped open, he threw my car in park and yanked me out. I started to scream but he clamped his hand over my mouth and drug me to an old rusted-out four door sedan. He’s only a couple inches taller than me, but much bigger, having no trouble getting me to the car and throwing me in the trunk. We drove and drove and drove. I have no idea where we are. My only stroke of luck in this whole nightmare is that I had my crossbody purse on when he grabbed me. I used it yesterday while shopping and hadn’t switched back to my larger purse. He was in such a hurry at my house, he threw me in the trunk with it still on me and although my cell was left back in my car, I did have my gun. Feeling around in the dark, I was prepared and ready when he opened the trunk deciding I needed to act fast before he realized I was armed. I had it aimed at his chest, but he caught sight and at the last second was able to move just enough that I hit him square in the shoulder instead.
Well, that proves it. My uncles taught me you don’t shoot to maim, if you have to shoot, you shoot to kill. So, even though I had a gun, I maimed him and I’m still in a shit load of trouble.
He lunged at me and the next shot I got off went to the side before he wrestled my gun away from me. Then, for the second time in my life I was backhanded. This time with the butt of my own gun and let me tell you, it hurts a hell of a lot more than a hand. He proceeded to drag me, all while he was bleeding profusely from his shoulder, into this ramshackle building. He bound my wrists and feet with plastic cable ties, threw me against a wall leaving me here covered in his blood.
It doesn’t look like a barn, but there are all kinds of old farm equipment and tools around me, looking like no one has set foot in here for years. There’s no way I’m going to get these cable ties off without something to cut them and they are bound so tight they are cutting into my skin. While he was gone, I scooted to the right a couple of feet and was able to grab an old flat head screw driver off the ground, holding it flat to my forearms in a way he hopefully couldn’t see. I was in the process of trying to find something to cut the ties away when he returned.
Stalking toward me again, I try to scurry on my ass backwards until I hit the wall. He stops about four feet from me and says his first words since he drug me out of my car, “You don’t know who I am, do you, you fucking bitch?”
Finding it hard to create words as I swallow back the fear, all I can do is just shake my head a tiny bit as an answer.
He pulls the blood soaked rag away from his shoulder that continues to bleed, throws it to the ground in front of me and says, “Well, you’re daddy knew me.” At the mention of my dad, I felt the blood drain from my head and I almost feel woozy. He must have read the look on my face correctly because he grins a wicked grin and goes on, “Yeah, your daddy put me away for twenty five fucking years. But that’s okay, because I had him put away, too. In the ground.” At that, I pull in an audible breath and his wicked grin turns into a vicious smile as he delivers his next blow, “Your momma was just a bonus.”
He had my parents killed.
My parents were murdered.
I don’t know who in the hell he is, but all thoughts of self-preservation fly out the window as I try and process the fact that my parents death wasn’t an accident and I close my eyes leaning back against the bitter cold wall. I open my eyes immediately as I hear him say, “I was pissed I didn’t have a hand in him gettin’ his due myself, but at the sight of you, I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna enjoy this retribution a fuckofa lot more than getting back at your daddy with my own hands. You see, I’ve been in prison for twenty five years. I made due with men, but it’s been a long fucking time since I’ve had a woman. I might have to keep you around longer than I planned. And you’re a fighter, so this could be fun.” I open my mouth to say something, or yell, or scream, but nothing comes out. “There’s no one around here for miles so there’s no need to gag you. You scream all you want, I might just get off on that.”
I blink but don’t dare take my eyes off him. I have no idea if anyone even knows I’m gone and once they do, how will they ever find me? I’ve got to keep my head together and come up with a plan to get away from him. “Who are you?” I ask, as I decide talking is my only option.
“You can call me Pope when you’re screamin' out my name, but that’s all you need to know about me,” he bites out, holding his shoulder gingerly. Blood is still seeping from the wound and now that I’m trying my best to focus on the situation, I can tell he’s in a lot of pain.
“You should probably have that looked at,” I stupidly suggest, not knowing what else to say.
“Shut the fuck up!” he screams at me and moves to close the four feet in between us. He kneels at my feet, pulls out a switch knife to cut the cable tie and says, “If you move a muscle, I’ll knock the shit outta you again.”
As he is focusing on his work at my feet I can tell he is favoring his wounded shoulder, I decide it’s now or never. I wait until my feet are free and as fast and as hard as I can, I lift my hands still bound together, angle the screwdriver jamming it in the gunshot wound in his shoulder. He falls back on his ass immediately screaming in pain as I jam and twist as best I can with my hands tied. I find my feet clumsily and try and make my way around him, but with his good arm he reaches out grabbing my foot. I fall forward flat out, my wrists still bound and scream as he howls in pain, but not letting go of my leg. He pulls me back throwing himself on top of me, almost knocking the air out of my lungs and I can’t move with his full weight pressing me into the filthy floor. With no one close, thinking it’s all for not, there is nothing more I can do but scream.
*****
I pull up to the
decrepit outbuilding and see the car Gabby’s neighbor described seeing in front of her house today. Tony and I jump out as fast as we can and I pull out my duty weapon while saying, “Tony, stay behind me.”
Tony moves and I hear him muttering to himself, “I swear I’m going to start carrying after this.”
I move behind my car to take in my surroundings. I have no backup, although units should be here any moment. There’s no sign of any other cars or life for as far as I can see. I look back at Tony giving my head a jerk, telling him to follow me and he nods once in recognition. I move slowly to the edge of the outbuilding, but halfway there we hear screams and cries coming from inside.
That’s Gabby. Without thinking twice I run to the door and sense Tony close to me. I give myself a tic to peak through, I see he has her on the ground and there’s blood everywhere. Kicking the door open the rest of the way, I train my gun on them and yell, “FBI! Get your hands where I can see them! Now!”
I see Gabby crane her neck around as far as she can to look at me with a panicked look on her face. Not having time to take that in, I keep my eyes and gun trained on Pope. “I said get your fucking hands where I can see them! Roll to the side and get off her. Now!”
What he does not do is roll off her, but pulls one arm around to grab her and pulls himself back to his knees, taking Gabby with him. Gabby screams again, pulls and jerks to get away, but he’s got her around the middle and now I see that her hands are tied in front of her, impeding her struggle. I have my gun trained on his head, but he’s not that much taller than Gabby and she’s in front of him. I don’t have a clear shot. I repeat myself, “Let her go, and step back.”
“He’s got my gun!” Gabby yells.
Fuck. Now I realize he’s only using one arm and all the blood is coming from a wound to his shoulder. She must have gotten off a shot.
With that, he takes Gabby and throws her to the side. She lands on her hands and knees, trying to get to her feet, but he pulls her gun out of his pants with his good hand and points it straight at her saying, “I’ll shoot her. I swear. I’ll shoot her and enjoy doing it!”
Overflow: The Carpino Series Page 27
