Chardy Walker Lieb

by The Saint

  When the tenor's rendition of Pagliachi abruptly stopped, the sudden quiet pushed Jake's patience to the brink. But it was Dirk's voice that shoved Ciora's self-control over the edge.

  "Testing," Dirk said between electrical screeches.

  What the hell was Templeton doing? Jake stayed in the shadows and quickly scanned his immediate area. Stacks of crates and boxes. Concrete walls. Grease-stained, cement floor. No Janey. The huge space was empty, and Dirk appeared to be alone. So, where in the hell was his daughter? Jake's heart thudded dully against his ribs.

  What if he'd been wrong?

  What if Janey wasn't here?

  What if storming Dirk would end Janey's life, not save her?

  The moment Jake spotted Templeton’s walkie-talkie and the speakers, his eyes zeroed in on the video camera.

  “Testing. One. Two. Three." Templeton's voice echoed off the concrete walls.

  Dirk was setting up this little party for them, he decided. Probably going to jerk him and Courtney around, sending them from one phone booth to the next all over town, before directing them here.

  Obviously, Dirk wasn't planning on being here. He was too smart for that. That, Jake decided, was what the walkie-talkie and video camera were for.

  Jake moved as close as he dared and crouched behind a large crate. He noticed a rope dangling from beneath the monitor, its remainder puddled on the floor. Looking from that point upward, he saw the thick cord had been tied off at a metal cleat on the wall. Jake's eyes followed the rope as it angled all the way up to the ceiling. And that's when he saw it. There, probably a hundred feet in the air, suspended by a cast iron pulley, a dog kennel, resembling a large cage hung from the massive rafters.

  What is that? Jake squinted, trying to focus in the dim light. Whatever it was, the rope had been pulled taut between the pulley and the thick, metal cleat. To make sure no one tampered with the aluminum cage, the monitor had been rigged to watch the rope.

  Inching along the wall, Jake's eyes went from the bottom of the cage, down the rope to the cleat. And that's when he saw it.

  What the hell? He looked closer. A Play Dough-like substance had been packed around…plastic explosives. Jake felt like he'd been sucker punched. Sure as hell, there was a small detonator of some kind secured in the center. The pinpoint of a red light blinked back at him–mocking–indicating it had been activated.

  Why would Templeton think we'd give a damn what was in that crate?

  Ciora’s eyes darted to the metal–dog kennel–suspended in the rafters. Janey?

  Something snapped inside Jake. Something foreign and all encompassing. Something paternal. He stepped from the shadows. Feet spread. Arms extended. Gun aimed. "Freeze!"

  Templeton's initial shock when he whirled around elicited a small amount of satisfaction. Just not nearly enough. And the cool mask of composure that immediately slipped into place frosted Jake's ass big time. Like with the car trunk, Jake didn't know what in God's name he should pray for. Janey in the cage?

  Or not? Trusting fate, Jake did what he'd always done best. He took matters into his own hands. Hell, he'd studied Templeton for the past six months. Knew the bastard inside and out. He was ruthless and arrogant. But most of all selfish. This man probably wouldn't take a bullet for his own kid–much less anyone else's.

  "Kudos, Officer Ciora," Dirk began with ease. "Looks like I underestimated you."

  Without breaking eye contact, Jake pointed the gun at the bottom of the cage, then leveled it right between Dirk's eyes. "You've got five seconds to lower that kennel."

  "Oh, really?" Dirk smirked.

  "Four."

  "Cool it, Jake."

  "Three."

  "Kill me, and you kill the child."

  "Two." Jake lowered the gun below belt level. This time, it was his turn to smirk. "Who said I was going to kill you?"

  Dirk shrugged. "Shoot me and you will kill the girl. "

  "Nice try."

  "I've got the detonator in my pocket."

  Jake glanced down long enough to see Templeton's right hand slip into his pants’ pocket. "You're bluffing."

  "Try me," he dared, staring up at the ceiling and shaking his head. "That's a long way down for such a little girl–"

  "Shut up!" Jake roared.

  "Don't raise your voice to me, Officer." Dirk met Jake's stare. "One slip of my finger and…boom."

  Templeton's yell reverberated off the walls, and that's when Jake heard it. The unmistakable whimper overhead.

  "Janey?" he called. "Janey are you up there?"

  Soft, crying ripped through Jake's heart like a rusty knife blade. His daughter. His daughter was hanging one hundred feet over head in a God Damned dog kennel.

  "It's all right, honey," he soothed. "We'll have you down in just a minute. He cocked his gun. "You bastard."

  “Throw me your gun, and I won't drop that cage on the concrete like a ripe melon. " With his free hand, Dirk pointed to his pocket. "Your choice, Detective."

  How could Jake ever take a chance with her life? He couldn't. Wouldn't. So, against all of his training. Against every police policy ever written. Against every fiber of his being, Jake surrendered his gun.

  Unlike Templeton, he would gladly lay down his life for his daughter's. And most likely—that is exactly what he was doing right now. Without question. Without regret. Well, his only regret was that he had never held her in his arms. Never smelled her clean hair. Never heard her laugh or call him daddy.

  So instead of sliding his gun across the cement floor to Dirk, in one final act of defiance, Jake kicked it to one side. **

  Courtney had waited…and waited…until she could not wait any more. Jake would be furious, but the thought of Janey scared and in trouble–well, it was too much for the mom in her to ignore a moment longer. Gun in hand, she crept from the car, disappearing–as Jake had–into the shadows surrounding the building.

  She skirted the brick perimeter and found the window Jake had opened. Shimmying inside, she waited for her eyes to adjust to the dark, then moved past the large sedan and through the door. Feeling her way down the seemingly endless hallway, she stopped in front of the first and only door she could find. Easing it open, she saw slipped behind a stack of boxes. Scanning the huge space, she spotted Dirk and Jake–faced off about fifty yards away.

  What in the hell was Jake doing? She watched him lay down his gun, and with a flick of one shoe, he kicked it to the side. Somewhere in the back of Courtney’s mind, a red flag shot straight up. She’d heard Michael rant too many times that a police officer never surrenders his weapon. According to her brother that is exactly the kind of stupidity that gets cops killed.

  Near panic, Courtney scurried between the wooden crates and cardboard boxes and made her way closer, careful to remain undetected in the shadows. With a better angle, she could see both men clearer but still didn’t understand what was going on. She had watched Jake kicked aside his gun, so where was

  Templeton’s? Dirk wasn't even pointing one.

  **

  Jake didn't miss Templeton's almost imperceptible hesitation. Dirk’s glance had flitted, for a fraction of a second, from Jake's gun sliding out of reach to the desk that was located an equal distance from both men.

  Templeton had been bluffing. The detonator hadn’t been in his pocket at all.

  Jake hit the lap drawer on a dead run a second or two before Dirk. He spotted the damn detonator and snatched it up, but the force of Templeton crashing into him, knocked the small metal box out of his hand. Grappling wildly, both men hit the floor. Jake elbowed his way across the concrete, stretching and reaching–half dragging Templeton and half being dragged. He felt the cool metal as his fingertips touched the box, until Templeton's fist crashed into his jaw. On impact, Jake’s arm jerked, knocking the detonator just out of reach. And that's when he heard…

  "Mommy!" Janey cried. "Help me, Mommy."

  And that was the exact moment Jake Ciora decided to kill Dirk Templeton wi
th his bare hands.

  CHAPTER 13

  >Courtney watched in momentary horror as the two men fought like animals. Blood spurted from a cut over Dirk’s right eye. Jake’s lip split. Frightened out of her wits, she managed to scurry across the floor and snag Jake's gun. She stuffed it into her pocket, then raised the back-up gun he had given her and waited for a clean shot. And that's when she heard her daughter’s voice overhead.

  Janey?

  Courtney's eyes followed the direction from which the tiny cry had come, and her heart stopped. Her baby. That bastard had strung up her baby in a dog cage.

  "Sit still, Sweetie,” Courtney called, thanking God Janey could not see the two men from where she had been tucked into the dark rafters. "We'll get you down in a minute."

  Hot tears streamed down Courtney’s face. Watching Jake and Templeton, she stepped closer, cocked the .38 revolver and aimed. That sonofabitch had taken her father, but Courtney would be damned if she let him take Janey's. The next time Dirk raised up, light reflected off a knife blade he arched above his head.

  In the split second that followed, Courtney closed her right eye and aimed. One even squeeze of the trigger and she dropped Templeton like a bull elephant shot at close range. Thank God, despite her aversion to guns, Michael had forced her to learn to shoot.

  Jake pushed Templeton’s body off him. Panting, Ciora struggled to his feet and kicked away the knife. He rolled Dirk, face down on the concrete and thanked God Courtney’s shot had caught the bastard in the shoulder and hadn’t killed him. Not that Jake gave a damn about Templeton. Because he didn’t. His concern was Courtney’s trauma, and she’d been through enough. Despite Dirk’s moans and cries, Jake yanked both arms back and briskly cuffed him behind the back.

  Detective Flare entered from the rear of the building and hustled Templeton into the police van for transport back to the station.

  Running to Courtney, Jake caught her just before both knees buckled. Her face looked like chalk. Both hands felt like ice. “It’s okay, Sweetness,” he whispered, pulling her close. “It’s over.”

  Leaning into his strength, she asked, “Why didn’t you call for back up?”

  “Plastic explosives.” Jake pointed to the blinking light embedded in the modeling clay at the base of the cleat. “It’s possible for radio frequencies to activate the detonator and set off the C-4 explosives.”

  “Oh, my God.” Courtney’s gaze shot toward Templeton. “He’s not dead, is he?”

  “Nope. You just winged him.” Jake brushed a stray tendril from her cheek. “Thanks, partner.”

  “Mommy?”

  “Oh, God, Jake.” Courtney leaned back and stared up at the only man she’d ever loved. “Please help her.” She felt his strong hands steady both her shoulders, then watched him hurry to the wall where the rope had been secured.

  Jake peeled off his jacket marked POLICE, tossing it on the floor. He stripped off the bullet-holed, second chance vest and yanked off both shoes and socks.

  Courtney’s eyes darted nervously from the gently swaying cage to the perspiration beading on Jake’s forehead.

  “Mommy?”

  “I’m right here, Baby,” Courtney called, faking a calmness in her voice. Without blinking, she watched Jake jump up and grab the rope to begin his ascent. “Sit tight, and we’ll have you down in a minute.”

  Hand over already raw hand, he inched his way toward the rafters. To his little girl. His life.

  Courtney said a prayer.

  Ninety-plus feet above the concrete floor, and seeing the bottom of the cage within reach, Jake’s toes slipped and his feet lost their grip.

  Courtney held her breath.

  Jake flailed wildly. Dangling in mid air, he held on for dear life. Perspiration trickled…beneath both arms. Down his back. Into his eyes. Every muscle in his body burned. His jaw clenched. His teeth ached. Manipulating his unwanted momentum, Jake used sheer determination to swing one leg and catch the rope behind his knee.

  Courtney breathed.

  Finally even with the cage, Jake clenched the rope between his legs. And that’s when he saw her. Huddled against the far wall, Janey looked back at Jake–with his eyes. Later, he promised, he would take in every detail of her. Right now, he had to get her down.

  “Hey, Janey.” He forced his voice to stay even. His smile confident. “I thought it would be a lot of fun to carry you down from here. Okay?”

  She blinked.

  The rope cut into Jake’s palms like a razor. Sweat stung his eyes. His legs screamed for mercy. His grin widened, and he winked.

  “You like piggy back rides?”

  She nodded.

  “Scoot over here,” he instructed, hoping just this once that a child her age might trust…enough. “When I open this door, you wrap both arms around my neck and hang on tight.”

  She didn’t move.

  “I’ll bet your Uncle Michael gives pretty good piggy back rides, doesn’t he?”

  She smiled.

  “I thought so,” Jake coaxed. “Well, guess what? Mine are better.”

  Her grin widened as she scooted to the front of the cage.

  “Neat how this playhouse swings, isn’t it?” He steadied the cage with his right hand and pulled it to him.

  Her nod gave him time to unlatch the door and tightly grab her around the waist. That moment. That touch. That sweet sensation would stay with Jake until the day he died. Maybe longer.

  Her soft cheek next to his.

  Her tiny arms around his neck.

  Her heart beating against his chest.

  “Hang on tight.” Hand over hand, he quickly moved back down the rope until his bare feet touched the cold concrete. And his heart began beating again.

  Clinging to his neck, Janey leaned back to face Jake squarely for the first time in the light. She studied his split lip and frowned but didn’t say anything about it. “That was fun, can we do it again?’

  Jake laughed. “I don’t think so, Sweetheart.” Eager to keep her close, Jake wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and asked, “Have you always been this brave?”

  Janey’s eyes widened as she considered Jake’s face. Deciding he was serious, she nodded solemnly, her long dark curls bobbing. “Mommy says sometimes I’m just too brave for my britches.”

  “She ought to talk.” Glancing at Courtney, Jake’s grinned widened, then he turned his attention back to Janey. “Your mom probably just worries because she loves you so much.”

  Courtney stood there with a lump in her throat the size of Texas as she watched Jake holding Janey.

  For the past six years she had dreamed of this moment. Fantasized. Prayed. But in her heart of hearts she had never allowed herself to hope it would come true. Until today. This, she decided, was exactly the way their lives were meant to be. Hers and Jake’s and Janey’s.

  Janey gave Jake’s neck a squeeze and turned to Courtney. “He’s a nice man, Mommy.” “He sure is,” Courtney began, struggling to find her voice. “Do you remember not too long ago

  when you asked me about your daddy?” “Uh huh.” Janey looked down, then told Jake, “My daddy went away before I was born.” Now it was Jake’s turn to swallow the lump in his throat. Janey picked nervously at her fingers, then met his gaze, “He doesn’t even know he has a little girl.” “But remember what I told you?” Courtney coaxed, stepping over next to them. “How Mommy

  would never stop looking for your daddy.” When her eyes met Jake’s, she made a silent promise to help make their father/daughter transition as smooth as possible. “And that if your daddy ever found out about you, he would come see you and love you more than any other little girl in the whole, wide world.”

  “Uh huh.” Janey sighed, laying her head on Jake’s shoulder. “I remember.” “Well, Sweetie,” Courtney began, taking a big breath, “I did find your daddy.” Janey’s head snapped up. “You did?” she squealed. “I sure did.” Courtney stepped on tiptoe to kiss Jake’s cheek and wrap her arm around the t
wo of

  them. “Jake is your daddy, Janey.” Janey’s eyes widened in direct proportion to the gasp of air she gulped. “You’re my daddy?” “I sure am.” For the first time in Jake’s life, he knew he was in big trouble. Putty. That’s exactly

  what he had become. Putty in her tiny little hands. She pressed her nose to his. “And you didn’t know about me?” “No ma’am,” he swore. “I just found out today.” Janey angled her head. “Are you going to live at our house now?” she asked. Jake coughed. Courtney raised one brow. Jake whispered in Janey’s ear, “Do you think I can convince your mom to marry me?” She giggled, nodding vigorously. “Maybe we should do that first,” he suggested just loud enough for Courtney to hear. “What do you

  think?” “Yes,” Janey whispered back.

  “Then maybe we could find a house of our own. With a big back yard.” Jake winked. “Your mom told me you’ve been wanting a puppy.”

  “Why stop there, Ciora?” Courtney whispered in both their faces, hoping to God she didn’t wake up and find this had all been a dream. “Why not throw in a white picket fence and a pony?”

  “Okay. I like horses.” Jake shrugged and winked at Janey again. “We’ll see what we can do, won’t we, Kiddo?” Jake kissed her cheek, closing both eyes and hoping to hell Courtney and Janey would still be there when he opened them again.

  “A puppy?” Janey squealed, backtracking to her favorite just to make sure. “And a daddy?”

  “Yep.” He looked from his daughter to Courtney and back again. “What do you say, we get out of here and stop by the hospital?” he suggested, wrapping one arm around Courtney’s shoulder and the other still holding Janey tight.

  Janey transferred a kiss from her fingertip to Jake’s split lip. “We’re going together?” she asked hopefully. Touched beyond words, Jake rested his forehead against her tiny brow and looked at Courtney. “Forever,” he promised. **