by Linda Ladd
Chapter 15
Novak had to take care of Locke first; in fact, he’d been looking forward to getting his hands on that pervert. Once he put him down and searched his office, he’d take whoever was in the room out through the back gate. He was almost positive it was Judith and hoped Lucy was in there, too. The unexpected ease of infiltrating the house wore on him. Way too easy in too many ways. Only one man had stood in his way so far. On the other hand, this wasn’t a SEAL mission, either, with the dangers involved in one. This was a private home that was not expecting trouble inside the grounds. It was understandable they were careless, but it was a big mistake on their part.
Moving cautiously down the hallway, Novak headed toward Locke’s bedchamber. It was dark inside except for the desk lamp, and Locke still sat at his desk absorbed in work, the perfect unsuspecting victim. Pulling down the ski mask over his head, he slipped into the room and couched himself in the deep shadows along the wall. Hopefully, and if all went well, Calvin Locke would never enjoy another peaceful moment inside his own home.
Novak continually searched for security cameras, didn’t see any, and hoped they weren’t hidden in the bookshelves of legal tomes lining three walls in the office alcove. He kept expecting to hear an alarm or step on a creaky floorboard. Like a shadow out of hell, he moved slowly, which went against his impulse to go in, get it done, and get out. He wanted the judge to feel like a helpless fool.
Locke was so intent in his work that Novak had no trouble easing up right behind him. Surprise was a wonderful thing when it worked. Novak was in place and not a man who wasted time, so he didn’t hesitate. He darted up quickly behind the man, hooked his left arm around his neck, right hand clamped on his left wrist in a hard and sustained chokehold. He’d always attacked full force so they didn’t have a chance to resist. He flexed his biceps tight against Locke’s Adam’s apple. The force of the strangulation lifted the judge completely off his swivel desk chair. It rolled away to the side as Locke kicked and struggled to throw Novak off, but the judge was out of shape and his bodyguards were not there to fight his battles. Novak was too strong for him.
The judge looked like an impressive figure in his robe, but he wasn’t strong and he wasn’t agile. When push came to shove with a man Novak’s size, he didn’t have a chance. He was a tub of belly flab and soft white skin, a lazy, pampered, disgusting excuse of a male. With the life slowly being choked out of him, he panicked and clawed at Novak’s arm with manicured fingernails and reared up like a cornered stallion in a stall. He made no sounds but grunts, his screams cut off as Novak applied relentless pressure. Novak knew how long he could hold him without killing him, and just before the judge lost consciousness, Novak spoke low words against his ear. “Nobody crosses Timothy Hennessey and gets away with it.”
Seconds later Locke’s body went slack, unconscious. Novak let go of him, and he fell into the desk and crumpled to the floor at Novak’s feet. He knelt down beside his victim and shrugged off his backpack. He pulled out a roll of silver duct tape and stripped the judge naked. Novak slapped two pieces of the tape over his mouth and quickly taped his hands and feet together. Then he rolled the guy over onto his stomach and bent his knees back and taped wrists and ankles together. The idea of a servant finding him trussed up like a pig appealed to Novak and should do serious damage to the judge’s sense of superiority and security. It would give his staff something to whisper and laugh about upstairs in the servant wing. Novak pulled out his phone and snapped a picture, just in case he ever needed that kind of leverage.
Novak moved back to the door and checked out the hall. All was quiet. The next few minutes were spent methodically tossing the desk and credenza. Gathering up the papers Locke had dropped to the floor, he stuffed them into the backpack and quickly rifled through the desk drawers, hoping to find a key to the bedroom’s padlock and anything else he could use as blackmail. Anything he could do to trigger Locke’s distrust of Hennessey would work. If they turned on each other, it would even up the odds for Novak. He jimmied open a locked drawer and found several bound blue ledgers inside and a bunch of DVD discs. He stuffed them in, too, deeming them important, and also found a key he suspected opened the lock on that bedroom door. Lying beside that key was a beautiful little antique derringer with an ivory handle held inside an ornate, hand-stitched red leather holster that looked handcrafted, probably centuries ago in Spain or Mexico. The gun looked like something Locke would prize, so he took it. He snapped Locke’s Apple laptop shut and stuck it in the backpack with the other goodies. Then he trashed the room a bit, destroyed the desk with a fireplace poker, stomped a couple of Locke’s prize orchids to death under his boot, and moved back out into the hallway. Still nobody. It was unexplainable, but Novak always took good luck where he found it. Calvin Locke was overconfident. Good for Novak; bad for the judge.
Back at the locked bedroom, he inserted the key. It turned easily. He quietly lifted the lock off the bracket. He pushed down the door handle and found it secured from inside. He fished out his lock pick and had the door open in seconds. He pushed it open and waited a moment, then cautiously entered the darkened room, feeling along the wall for the light switch, not quite sure what he’d find inside. That’s when something hurtled out of the dark right at him. He sensed it and tried to duck, but the lamp glanced off his shoulder and crashed to the floor. Then an all-out attack came at him. He knew at once it was a woman; he could smell her perfume, spicy and exotic. But she meant business and had her sharp claws out, so he grabbed her shoulders, spun her back against him, and clamped one arm around her waist and the other over her mouth.
“Stop, stop fighting,” he gritted into her ear. “I’m here to get you out.”
The woman did not stop. She was definitely giving it everything she had and caused him a lot more trouble than the judge had. Those sharp nails scraped down the side of his face, drawing blood. Novak had had enough. He shook the woman hard enough to stop her fight. It worked. “Lori Garner sent me, damn it. Shut the hell up or you’re gonna get us both killed.”
Lori’s name did the trick. She collapsed in front of him like a punctured balloon. He let go and let her fall to her knees in front of him. Novak checked the hall and shut the door. He jerked her back up to standing and switched on his pen light. It was Judith Locke, all right. She looked older than her photograph and haggard but little change otherwise. Her ultra-short white hair was gelled to stand straight up, and her huge brown eyes were unmistakable. She was incredibly thin, her face pinched. He was pretty sure she was anorexic or maybe her father was starving her to death. “Come on, let’s go.”
“No, no, I can’t leave my girls here with him, I won’t!” She started struggling again.
Novak pulled her close and spoke harshly against her ear. “Listen good, lady. Do what I say or I’m leaving you here. Your girls aren’t here. I’ve got them. I took them out of your beach house last night. They’re in a safe place. Either you shut up and come quietly or I’m leaving you in here.”
She sagged on her feet and would have fallen if he didn’t have a good grip on her arms. “He told me they were here.”
“Well, they aren’t. They’re fine, trust me. Where are the guards?”
She turned and searched his face. “Who are you?”
“That doesn’t matter. Why aren’t there guards in the house?”
That’s when she decided to trust him. “Daddy keeps them outside. He doesn’t like them up here in the bedroom wing.”
Yeah, I’ll bet, and for obvious reasons, Novak thought.
“They’re outside with the dogs. But Daddy’s in his office right down the hall, I think. He’s got a gun in his desk.”
“Not anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he’s not gonna cause anybody trouble at the moment.”
“Is he dead? Did you kill him?” She sounded half worried and half excited.
> “I’ll just say he’s indisposed at the moment.”
“How do I know you’re telling me the truth?”
“He locked you in here. I found the key and got you out. Proof enough? C’mon, I don’t have time to argue with you.” She continued to hesitate, and Novak got mad. “Look, lady, Lori Garner’s out back in the alley waiting for you. She’s driving a blue Mustang. The Feds are ready to take you and your kids into witness protection. Do you still have the evidence that’ll nail your father?”
“I’ve got more than enough.”
“If it’s here in the house, we’ve got to get it and get out. We can’t come back.”
“It’s out in the yard in the playhouse.”
“Okay, let’s go.”
After that exchange, she ran back to a dresser and stuffed a few things into a backpack while Novak waited at the door. “Not a word, understand,” he told her. “Stay close to me and do what I say.”
She nodded, but she was scared.
They made it downstairs without getting killed and crossed the big shadowy kitchen to a back door before Judith Locke decided she wanted more answers. “Who are you? Why are you helping me?”
“I told you, so hold off, okay? We aren’t in the clear yet.”
Novak inched back the bottom of the back door blinds and peered outside. It led out onto a flagstone patio surrounded by trees. A fancy swimming pool was adjacent to the patio. Nobody in sight. Locke’s guards were shit, all right. He unlocked the door and stepped outside into cool night air. That’s when he came face to face with one giant, salivating Doberman Pinscher. The dog took an instant disliking to him. It hunched down, hackles rising in a stiff ridge down its spine. His growl came low and threatening. Novak pointed his silenced .45 at him. He’d been attacked by a ferocious guard dog once before in Iraq and still had bite scars on his calf to prove it. He would never let it happen again.
Judith grabbed his arm. “No, wait, don’t shoot her. Come Daisy, heel,” she whispered softly.
The big dog immediately relaxed those dripping jaws and bounded over to lie at her feet, like some kind of friggin’ puppy. Judith knelt and scratched her ears and stroked her head. The dog lay down, docile and sweet as apple pie. Probably knew how to tear him apart on the right command, too.
“Stay,” Judith ordered the dog in her firm voice. The dog cocked his head and did not move. She looked up at Novak. “She’s sweet when you get to know her.”
“Yeah, right. No thanks.” Novak grabbed her arm, and the dog growled deep in its throat. He let go of her, better safe than sorry. “Which way to the playhouse?”
Judith pointed down at an area beyond the pool. He waited for her to shut the dog inside the kitchen, and they took off at a run. She kept up fairly well, and they kept inside the dark cover under the trees. Still no guards in sight. Novak was beginning to think somebody was playing with him, watching everything he did, wanting him to feel safe before he walked headfirst into a well-laid ambush.
It didn’t take long for him to spot the ring of solar spotlights illuminating the banks of the manmade lake Lori had described. It did have a little humpback bridge crossing over to it. All fairytale like and everything. Novak pulled Judith down onto her knees and visually searched the sidewalk circling the water. That’s when he spotted the first armed guard, down there protecting an empty playhouse. These guys were a joke.
The man appeared to be on patrol, but he wasn’t looking in their direction, or any other direction, truth be told. He was gazing down at his cell phone, its dim glow illuminating his face in the darkness. Novak could hear the faint bangs and explosions that pretty much identified a video game. The man had his back to the bridge. Locke’s guards ought to be shot for dereliction of duty. They would’ve been if they were in the military. They probably would tomorrow once they found the judge all trussed up and helpless.
“Where’d you put it on the island?”
“I hid it inside the castle under a floorboard.”
“Where exactly?”
“It’s hard to explain. I’ll have to go and show you.”
Novak grimaced. This was getting absurd. He wanted to get out of that compound. Time was wasting, and it was a matter of minutes before somebody saw them. But he had to have that evidence. “We can’t use the bridge. How deep is the water?”
“Knee-deep on you, probably. It’s a koi pond. We weren’t allowed to swim in it because of the fish.”
“Then we’ll have to wade out there.”
She pointed out the best way to circumvent the guard’s notice, and they crossed through the water together, Novak gripping tight to her elbow. If he made it out of this compound without being shot, it would be a miracle, especially if even one guard woke up and did his job. The little castle was not so little. It was about the size of a starter home for newlyweds, with turrets and ramparts and a retractable drawbridge, the whole works. Judith led him up to a back door, and Novak stood outside and watched the incompetent guard play his game while she went inside. It took her too long for his comfort. A full five minutes later, she reappeared, holding a brown leather briefcase.
“How’d you get the dope on him?” he asked her.
“I memorized the combination to Daddy’s safe. He opened it in front of me a couple of times.”
“He didn’t miss what you took out?”
“Not yet.”
They waded back down into the moat, waking a ton of fish that darted here and there as they sloshed their way across to the lawn. They were pushing their luck, big-time.
“Listen, Judith, here’s what you’re going to do. See the path there. Run down it to the back gate and find Lori. Don’t stop, no matter what. I’ll put down that guard if he sees you.”
“You’re not coming with us?”
“I’ve got a few things to do first. Go now. Tell Lori to wait for me as long as she can. If she sees a guard, take off. She’ll know where to go. Go on, you’ve got a clear path to the gate right now.”
Judith took off running, without further argument, but the guy with the phone heard her and turned around. Novak moved up behind him, and for a few seconds, the guard looked stunned to see an armed intruder coming at him out of the dark. Then he got over the surprise, dropped the phone, and clawed desperately at his holster, but it was too late. Novak tackled him around the waist and took him down hard. The guy fought back, and they rolled on the ground, grappling for advantage, but Novak was bigger and stronger and managed to wrest the weapon out of his hand. He clubbed the guy hard with the pistol and hit him again in the forehead. The second blow did it; the guy didn’t move. Panting, down on his knees, Novak crouched low for a moment, expecting reinforcements because the altercation hadn’t been exactly quiet. Nothing moved.
Peering down the sidewalk, he couldn’t see Judith. He breathed easier that she was already out in the alley, but there was one more special surprise he wanted to leave to make the judge crazy. Nobody shouted alarms, so he got up and dragged the unconscious guard off the path and into the bushes and then headed out to look for the prized hothouse. It wasn’t difficult to find. The glass building was lit up like a Hollywood marquee on opening night. He moved inside, duck-walked below the windows. He figured the gardener would have supplies stowed somewhere nearby, and he was right. And then, there it was, voila, a big red can of gasoline with a handy pouring spout.
Grabbing it, he quickly drenched all the orchids sitting around in their fancy clay pots and splashed it on tables and down between the aisles. It wasn’t a sturdy structure. It’d go up like a bottle rocket on New Year’s Eve. He wanted the judge to freak out, and this should do it in spades. He trickled a stream of gasoline through the main door and about ten feet down the sidewalk. Then he pulled a Zippo lighter out of his pocket and tossed it down on the flammable fluid. He didn’t hang around but took off at a hard run for the back gate.
Moments later, a terrific whoosh filled the air, followed by a big explosion. That would be the chemical fertilizer stored all over the place. He looked back, and the hothouse was a flaming inferno. Licking flames reached high into the sky, and glass and debris were raining down, crackling and hissing and sprinkling the grass, a nice little distraction to give him time to get to the Mustang. The gate was standing wide open. So thank you for that, Judith. He burst out onto the alley, home free, except for one thing. The Mustang was gone. Shit.
Of more concern at the moment were the three armed men rushing down the alley toward him, guns out and blasting. He’d finally found the guards. Novak raced back through the gate, heading up into the tree cover, arms pumping, trampling rose bushes to give insult to injury. He kicked down the solar lights as he ran, hoping the night would hide his flight. He had to make it over the front wall before they set the dogs loose; then he might have a chance. He could hear men shouting, the sleeping bodyguards all waking up at once. He made it to the garage in under a minute and found Henson’s car gone.
No good options left, he sprinted down the winding drive, cutting through the loops of pavement to reach the front gate. It was closed up tight, but he increased his speed, hit the wall with his feet, climbing up it far enough to jump, grab the top, and pull himself over. Alarm sensors immediately went wild, and he kicked one of the cameras loose as a bullet ricocheted off the wall near his foot, sending shards of stucco out like torpedoes. He hoisted himself the rest of the way over and dropped down to the street. Scanning in both directions, he saw nothing, but he could hear a vehicle gunning somewhere nearby. That’s when the Mustang squealed around a corner at the next intersection and barreled toward him, pedal to the metal. Henson’s black car swerved out right behind it.
Novak waved Lori on past him and stood out in the middle of the road, holding his weapon steady with both hands, beaded on the Lexus’s windshield as it sped straight at him. He fired three shots in rapid succession. The first two hit the windshield, and the third smashed it and got the driver in the chest. The vehicle careened wildly and ended up slamming into the brick wall head-on with enough force to throw the driver out onto the hood. The other man in the car slumped down in the passenger’s seat. He didn’t move.
