“Yeah.”
“We’re looking for a warehouse off Fairfield. An old warehouse. There might be a red Hummer parked nearby, but look for anything that looks out of place.”
“Amanda’s with me.”
“When you get in the area call me.”
He hung up and pressed the accelerator to the floor.
* * * *
With her legs curled behind her back, Haylie could just reach the tape around her ankles, but the tight binding around her wrists made maneuvering her hands difficult. Her fingers kept getting in the way of one another and they were tingling and clumsy from the lack of circulation.
Once she got her nails under the edge of the tape it peeled up easily. Still, the removal was slow going. She ignored the burn in her biceps and the pain in her wrists. Her father wouldn’t be gone long. And when he came back he probably wouldn’t be alone.
The lights beamed down bright enough to spring sweat from her pores and the cameras stood at the ready. The only thing he needed now was an audience and someone to kill her.
Carl Monroe was not a patient man. He wouldn’t be standing around all night twiddling his thumbs. Waiting for anything pissed him off, and tonight his mood was too good to be running behind schedule.
At the far end of the building a door opened. She worked faster, but fumbled. The duct tape she’d already unwound adhered itself to her thumb and precious seconds ticked off as she worked to jerk her hand free.
Footsteps echoed off the ceilings and walls. Her father hadn’t come back alone. Her muscles burned from the strain, and she had no way to judge how much tape remained. The footsteps drew close, but then another sound stopped her heart. The protests of someone struggling. The deep guttural screams of someone whose mouth had been gagged or taped. Her father’s swears followed a shuffled of feet.
“Don’t make me put a bullet in you,” Carl Monroe warned. “Haylie should’ve taught you not to piss me off.”
Her brain screamed. Who did he have? One of the Belles? Judging from the ferocity of the struggle, probably Kara. She had to get her feet free. Together the two of them could put up a pretty good fight. Kara didn’t have a weak bone in her body.
She ripped the last of the tape from her ankles and searched for a place to hide. Nothing but the obvious. The prop screen. The first place he’d look. She stretched her legs and rotated her ankles to get the blood flowing again. They were getting closer. She started to her feet, but sank back down. If he found her gone, nothing would stop him from killing Kara. The man had a gun. And a goon.
She tucked her legs back behind her and jerked her arms. The duct tape binding her hands, but it didn’t budge.
* * * *
“Blake, we’re here. Just about to turn onto Fairfield off Navy Boulevard
. Which way should we go?”
Blake drove around a rundown building next to the railroad tracks. Chains locked all the doors from the outside and the windows were too high to use for easy entry. He’d checked four buildings, and so far none of them looked like anything had gone on inside for a long time.
“Go right,” he said. “Start checking any big buildings on the right side of the road. I’m working the left.”
“We’ll find her.” The determination in Amanda’s voice steeled him.
“You’re damn right we will.”
Somewhere Haylie was in a fight for her life. Failure wasn’t an option.
On either side of the street, rundown and thriving businesses stood side by side. This wasn’t your typical warehouse district, and true warehouses around here were few. Most of the larger buildings were abandoned strip malls and department stores. Blake pulled into the next parking lot on his side of the street.
“What do you see?” He spoke into the dark interior of his car.
Kara’s voice came through the phone. “We just passed a big building set off the street. The lot is wooded and blocked off with a big chain link fence. Looks like it might have been an old junkyard or used car lot.”
“Is the fence locked?”
“We can get in if we have to, but I’m not sure we should waste that kind of time unless we really think she’s in there.”
His heart raced. He couldn’t afford to make the wrong call. “Take a quick look down the rest of the street. Go as far as the railroad tracks. If we haven’t found her, we’ll go jump that fence.” Hot sweat trailed beneath his arms. If she was in there and he’d just lost precious time not getting to her… If he was too late… He slammed the heel of his hand against the steering wheel. Damn it. They needed an army out here looking for her, and so far he hadn’t passed a single police car.
Ron Donald had his eye on Melvin’s place and the places he was known to operate out on Mandido Beach. Police were searching for Melvin’s Hummer. And still Blake knew they weren’t doing enough. He wasn’t doing enough. Nothing would be enough until he had her in his arms again.
Blake abandoned another parking lot and pulled back onto Fairfield, running the light that changed to red as he approached.
* * * *
“Grady!” Haylie’s blood ran cold when her father stepped under the bright lights with Grady at the tip of his gun. From the looks of the shiner around Hank’s eye, and the thin stream of blood that trickled from his nose, Grady hadn’t made it easy for them to get him there. He was a born fighter. He wouldn’t have survived otherwise. Just because he didn’t have a temper, didn’t mean he couldn’t defend himself.
The big oaf wouldn’t have stood a chance without a gun, which meant he and her father each had their own. Grady’s arms had been duct taped behind his back. Another strip of wide silver tape covered his mouth. When he saw Haylie, he threw a series of kicks and twists that left both men with marks they wouldn’t soon forget.
Carl left his partner to take Grady’s onslaught and went directly to Haylie. He pressed the barrel of his gun to her temple and yelled Grady’s name. “You ready to watch her die?”
Grady froze. His eyes flashed in a way that told Carl Monroe exactly what would happen to him if he laid a hand on her.
“He won’t do it,” Haylie mouthed.
Her father was bluffing. If he killed her now, there’d be no witnesses other than Grady and the goon. Carl Monroe didn’t do anything without an audience. The bigger the audience the better. And his plans didn’t include killing her himself. He’d told her that much.
She shifted just enough to make sure her freed ankles were completely hidden behind her back. Hank walked Grady over to the bean bag and shoved him off balance. He landed next to her and immediately threw a kick to the wider man’s groin, narrowly missing his target. Hank hefted himself on Grady’s legs with a grunt and caught the roll of tape Carl tossed him.
Grady struggled, but settled down when Carl leveled his gun at Haylie again.
Carl checked his watch. “It’s almost show time.” He jerked his head toward the computer and Hank moved off Grady to go set up the feed.
“Here’s a few ground rules,” he said, waving his gun from Haylie to Grady and back again. “People have paid good money for our little show tonight.”
“Leave Grady out of this,” Haylie said. “He’s never done anything to you.”
“Can’t leave him out of it. He’s your co-star.”
Fury ripped through her, and blood roared in her ears. She could have killed her father with her bare hands, gun or no gun. And she would’ve if her hands weren’t rendered useless and asleep behind her back.
“Like I said there are some rules,” Carl continued. “The game is simple. As long as you follow the rules we all keep playing. When the game ends…” He waved the gun toward Haylie again. “Somebody dies.”
Next to her, Grady struggled with his constraints. If she could get five minutes alone with him they could get the tape off, but there was no logical reason her father and his partner would leave them now.
“Don’t wear yourself out,” he said to Grady. “The tape’s coming off. Everythi
ng’s coming off. You and Sunshine are going to entertain our audience for as long as you can. Because when you stop, Hank’s going to give you his gun and you’re going to shoot her. If you don’t, we’re going to turn off the cameras and I’m going to shoot you, then her. Either way, she dies. Your life is up to you.”
Grady shook his head violently and yelled into the duct tape over his mouth.
“Relax a minute and think it over.” Evil darkened his eyes. “Hank’s a good photographer and it doesn’t take him long to get set up.”
* * * *
Blake’s lungs burned, ready to burst. He’d checked every possible building on his side of the street and pulled off the road in front of the overgrown lot Kara had mentioned earlier. A couple of old buildings, one bigger than the other, sat fifty yards back on a lot filled with crumbled asphalt and knee high weeds.
Tire tracks and a wide arc of bent grass marked the opening of the gate and the entrance of a vehicle. He felt it in his bones. She was here.
Not as many businesses lined this side of Fairfield between here and the railroad tracks. Kara and Amanda were on their way back.
“I’m going in,” Blake said. “Wait outside and call 911 if you hear anything.”
“Like hell,” Kara said. “We’ll be right behind you.”
He knew better than to argue. Belles stuck together like glue. “Cut the lights when you get here,” he said. “And stay back enough they don’t hear us coming.”
“I’ll call 911 now.” Amanda said.
“Not yet. If she’s not here we’ll be stuck answering questions and fighting arrests for trespassing.” Blake said. “We’d don’t have that kind of time.”
* * * *
“Ladies first,” her father said as he opened his pocket knife and shifted Haylie over to cut the bindings on her wrist.
As he lifted her weight from the bed, she swung her knee into his crotch with as much force as she could muster. The blade pierced her palm, but the knife fell from his grasp. She brought her legs to her chest and kicked both heels into his stomach with every ounce of strength she had, knocking him to the floor. His head hit with a crack and he lay motionless.
Hank moved with amazing agility for a man his size, but Grady rolled between the giant of a man and Haylie. She scrambled back to try and grab the knife. The blade sliced into her finger again before she could find the handle. With her hands behind her, the weapon was useless and Grady couldn’t hold Hank off for long. She bent herself in half and slipped her hips and legs through the loop of her arms, bringing her hands around to her chest.
Grady had put himself in a bad position. Hank loomed over him. “Don’t lay a hand on him!” Haylie shouted.
Grady scuttled backward on his heels and his butt, knocking into the table of recording equipment. The web cam clattered to the ground, pieces of the plastic casing slid across the concrete floor.
Carl Monroe swore as he lifted himself up, and a gunshot echoed off the metal ceiling and walls. Haylie jerked her head toward Grady. Hank had his weapon drawn, feet spread, and barrel aimed squarely on Grady’s chest.
Grady’s frantic movements sent her to her feet, but the pain that ripped through her sent her down again. Grady hadn’t been shot. She had. She looked down at the blood spilling from the tiny hole in her side as if it belonged to someone else. Clouds crept into her vision before everything went black.
* * * *
Blake had almost reached the old warehouse at the back of the lot when a gunshot ricocheted off the walls of the long, narrow garage thirty yards to his right. He took off at a sprint.
“Blake! Don’t!” Amanda yelled. He couldn’t have stopped if he wanted to.
The garage’s rolling doors were intact and all of them closed, but as he rounded the side of the building he could see light coming through a small window set high on a half-rotted standard entry door. The vehicles must have been parked further back, out of sight, which meant the people inside could be at the opposite end of the building, or he could stumble in on top of them. Or they could be anywhere in between. He couldn’t see inside to get his bearings, but he didn’t hesitate.
He hit the door at a run. Ten feet ahead of him Hank Hawkins had a gun trained on Grady. Still running, Blake plowed into the bigger man like a locomotive, taking him to the ground. Another shot rang out and Hank’s gun slid across the floor. Blake landed a punch before the third shot sounded off the wall behind him.
He jerked his head up. Carl Monroe strode toward him, arms bracing the stock of his weapon, a smile stretched across his face.
“I was hoping I’d get a chance to get rid of you,” he said, leveling the barrel with Blake’s chest.
Blake caught a movement out of the corner of his eye. Another shot fired, and Carl Monroe hit the floor, blood streaming from his temple.
Haylie shifted her aim to Hank as he stumbled to his feet.
“Don’t,” Blake barked. Then seeing the blood smeared across her abdomen, he ran to her.
“I killed him,” she said.
Still in the line of her gun, Hank held his hands by his head in surrender.
“Let me have that.” Blake kept his voice as soft and calm as he could. The dark bullet hole in her side had him boiling with rage, thanking God she was alive, and scared out of his mind he could lose her yet.
She let him take the gun from her hand. Her eyes were glazed and her skin pale.
Carl Monroe lay the way he’d fallen. Grady had already made it halfway to Haylie, moving like an inchworm across the blood splattered concrete floor.
“On your stomach,” Blake said, holding the gun on Hank and easing Haylie down on the bean bag. Hank complied, assuming the position, arms stretched straight out from his sides, legs spread.
“You’re ok, baby,” Blake said as Haylie collapsed against his hip. “The Belles are outside. They called for help.”
“I killed him,” she repeated.
Blake pressed his lips to the top of her head and rubbed his hand up and down her arm. She was cold. He couldn’t tell how much blood had seeped into the purple velvet beneath her, but her eyelids drooped and her breathing slowed.
“Don’t go to sleep,” he said, fighting the fear that gripped him. “Stay awake. Stay right here with me.”
Outside, sirens grew louder.
Grady reached the bean bag and buried his battered face against Haylie’s leg. His full-grown body wrenched with the sobs of a child.
Police burst through the door like a hand grenade. Blake tossed the gun to the floor and raised his hands.
Chapter 14
“Lucy’s doing well,” Ashlyn said. “He’s already pouting to come home.”
“Are you sure I’m not dead?” Haylie asked. “Only dead people get this many flowers.” Blooms covered every corner and flat surface of her hospital room.
“Just imagine you’re visiting my mother, and she’s making you stay in the guestroom with the Laura Ashley drapes.” Ashlyn grinned.
Haylie laughed then cringed at the pain in her side. She’d been lucky. The bullet had missed her organs and major arteries, but she’d lost a lot of blood and would have a couple of ugly scars as souvenirs. The small caliber bullet had gone straight through, exiting as cleanly as it entered.
“How’re you doing?” concern filled Ashlyn’s voice.
She pinched the sheet between her fingers and turned toward the window. “I killed my father.” Tears filled her eyes. “I guess that kind of seals my plans for the afterlife.”
Ashlyn reached for her hand. “He would’ve killed Blake, and Grady, and you. You did what you had to do.”
“It was a choice.” She could’ve aimed lower, or fired a warning shot, or just let fate take care of the details.
“It was the best choice, given the situation.”
“You don’t even believe in euthanasia,” Haylie said with a doubtful look.
“I like to think I would’ve made the same choice you did.” Ashlyn wiped the tears fro
m Haylie’s cheeks. “You saved the lives of two men who love you very much. And you saved yourself. Don’t ever regret that.”
Haylie released a shattered sigh. “My mother will never forgive me. She hasn’t even called.”
“You’ll always have a family.”
The Belles, Blake and Grady had refused to leave her side for the first twenty-four hours, and since then the nurses had threatened to install a revolving door on Haylie’s room. She did have a family. The best family in the world.
The door swung open and Blake walked in empty handed.
“Thank God you didn’t bring flowers,” Ashlyn said. She gave Haylie a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll leave you two alone.” She winked at Blake. “She’s still healing.”
He sat on the bed and brushed a lock of hair off Haylie’s cheek.
She took his hand. “I need to get out of here. I have a wedding to plan.”
“Yes, you do. But you’re going to be on bed rest for a while.”
She ran her fingers along his muscled arm. “The doctors told you that?”
“I’m imposing that restriction myself.” The devil flashed in his eye and a sexy grin spread across his face as he leaned close for a kiss.
She wound her arms around his neck, hungry for a taste of him, for the fire in his touch.
His fingers slipped into the opening of her hospital gown and brushed the bandage on her back. He moved his hand slowly around her side and traced the gauze that covered the entrance wound then eased her down on the bed.
“Come here.” She urged him closer. “I haven’t thanked you for saving me yet.”
“You’ll have to thank me later.” He tugged her earlobe between his teeth. “The door doesn’t lock and it’s time for your tongue bath.”
Haylie laughed and grabbed her side as the pain rocketed through her. “You are such a devil!”
THE END
Devil's Advocate Page 16
