Sheltered

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Sheltered Page 14

by HelenKay Dimon


  “For what?” Holt didn’t doubt it, but he did want a heads-up if Shane knew something he didn’t.

  “Oh, there will be something.” Shane separated the documents into stacks, using some system in his head.

  One page grabbed Holt’s attention. He put out a hand to stop others from burying it lower in the pile. “Hold up.”

  “What?” Shane brought the paper up to the top. “That’s Walt Freeland, Lindsey’s uncle. He died in a shoot-out with ATF.”

  Holt picked up the papers as wave after wave of anxiety washed over him. The photo was old, but the resemblance was unmistakable. The jawline. The mouth. The dark evil in the eyes. One thing was for certain—her uncle was not dead. “No, he didn’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Holt forced his memory to cover and compare every detail. He’d changed his appearance, likely on purpose. Only someone looking would know. Someone who faced the guy every day, or sat across a desk and answered questions.

  “Different hair and he’s lost a lot of weight, but this guy is definitely not dead.”

  Shane frowned. “How do you know?”

  “He’s my boss. Hank’s boss.” When Shane just stared, Holt tried again. “That’s Simon Falls.”

  “Why didn’t she recognize him?”

  “She’s never seen him in his role as Simon Falls. Few have. I’ve been up there, trying to figure out how to sneak a photo back to Connor and Joel and haven’t been able to.” Holt’s mind immediately shot to Lindsey. He spun up off the couch and stalked toward the back door with Shane right behind.

  Holt’s gaze started at the last place he’d seen her and zipped across the yard. He looked for any sign of her as the panic started beating in his head.

  “Lindsey?” Shane yelled her name, not being shy about being as loud as he could.

  Dread gripped Holt. “Where is she?”

  “Look.” Shane took off before he explained. He ran toward the trees to a crumpled form lying in the leaves.

  Holt recognized the uniform before he turned the deputy over. Blood pooled around him, and his eyes had gone glassy. He was alive but not for long.

  “He’s knifed.” Holt ignored the ping of his cell in his back pocket letting him know he had a text and stayed focused. He ripped the bottom of his T-shirt and pressed it against the wound. “Where’s Lindsey?”

  “I’m sorry.” The deputy’s mouth barely opened.

  “Later with that. Where is she?”

  Shane scrambled in the grass toward something. He came back and dropped to his knees beside Holt. “Her cell.”

  Holt unlocked it with the code Lindsey had given him in case of an emergency. As Shane called for an ambulance on his own cell, Holt punched buttons on hers. He found the message without any trouble. Misspelled and almost incoherent, but he knew. Also knew what the text on his phone said. “Todd has her.”

  As Shane talked in the background the deputy tried to nod as he forced out another string of words. “Took her to Simon...not sure where on the property.”

  “That’s the easy part.” Holt thought about the cell in his pocket and the app that would lead him straight to her. “I’ll find her.”

  They would go and get her. Holt made a personal vow to make it happen and to take out whoever he had to in the process. But right now his entire world focused on the jumbled message filled with typos. He could make out the most important part—“hury, luv u.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Holt got through the New Foundations front gate without trouble. He expected the guns to come out and Simon to appear. Something that matched the fierce grandness of Lindsey’s abduction.

  But the camp operated as usual. People carried on, did chores, rode in trucks to the gun range. If anyone knew an innocent woman had been grabbed and dragged up here, they didn’t show it. It was possible they didn’t care but more likely they didn’t know.

  The lack of knowledge worked to Holt’s advantage. The tracker he had placed inside Lindsey’s back jeans pocket, the same tracer he put on her every morning since moving into her house, showed her on the property. But that spread for miles. With Shane’s help, Holt had narrowed down a location. An off-limits building on a part of the property used to store equipment.

  According to the files Connor had collected, the place once operated as an employee rec room. Using Cam’s aerial photos, they determined that because of the fencing and forest surrounding the area, there was only one easy way into the building. Through the front door.

  Trying not to draw attention or pop up on one of the seemingly thousands of video cameras spread around the campus, Holt walked with a sense of calm. His insides had been diced raw, but he didn’t let any of that pounding panic show on the outside. Lindsey needed him safe and strong. And she needed him now.

  Walking along the lines of cabins closest to the dining hall, Holt passed right in front of the steps to Simon’s office. It was the path Holt took every workday, and he did not stray now. Not when anyone could be watching. A quick turn and he slipped between delivery trucks and around a giant storage shed used for nonperishable items.

  He had too far to go on foot for the little time he feared he had. Transportation proved tricky. Everyone had to sign out a vehicle to use it. Holt had left his truck in the parking lot per protocol. That left running or improvising. Holt chose lying.

  He slipped into the camp’s makeshift garage. He had a choice of two vehicles. Both would have GPS trackers and become unusable once he collected Lindsey. That was fine with Holt, since he had other transportation arrangements in mind for the getaway.

  With his usual wave to the mechanic, Holt walked right up to the dispatch station. He grabbed the clipboard hanging there on the nail and started filling out the appropriate lines. Holt saw the guy working there almost every day on duty and hoped that counted for something.

  The dispatch guy looked up. “I don’t have you down for a vehicle today.”

  “We have some trees down over by the exercise yard.” Steady and calm. Holt delivered the line with the dead accuracy of the truth.

  The trees were fine, but the story proved easy to sell. The wind knocked things around here all the time. Holt had spent most of his first days cutting fallen branches and clearing paths.

  Today he pretended to do the same even as the countdown clock started clanging in his head. He was running out of time and if this dragged on he’d have to turn to Plan B. That consisted of running and finding her and hoping not to get shot as he took off in the most overgrown direction.

  Holt handed the clipboard back and waited. He’d know in two seconds if Simon had put out the call to stop him.

  The dispatcher didn’t miss a beat. He grabbed an extra set of keys and handed them to Holt. “We need this tomorrow for a supply pickup, so I need it back by the end of the shift.”

  Holt kept his relieved breath locked inside him. “No problem.”

  He got two steps toward the truck before the dispatcher called his name. Holt turned nice and slow as he conducted a mental inventory of the weapons he had on him. Last thing he wanted to do was kill this guy or injure any of the members who seemed to want quiet more than a battle.

  Any except Todd. That guy had a bullet waiting for him.

  The dispatcher pointed toward the sign above the checkout clipboard. “Don’t forget to fill the tank.”

  “Will do.” Holt felt the trapped air leave his lungs. He read that faded and peeling sign almost every day. Passed by it and followed the order, which wasn’t tough, since there was a filling station not far from the garage.

  Not waiting another second, Holt slipped out of the building and slid into the front seat of the truck. With every second he expected guards to swarm and guns to fire. But the big escape plan ran smoothly. No one tried to stop him. No one questioned his right to be in certain areas. He moved with confidence and they responded by giving him room to find what he wanted. In this case, space.

  The drive took minutes bu
t lasted an eternity in his head. The building looked worse than he remembered. Rotting wood lined the walls, and the roof tilted as if the whole thing could shift and fall any second. The door had a padlock, but the windows high on the walls of the two-story structure were smashed and broken.

  He didn’t go right up to the place. He parked and let the engine idle, figuring that might make anyone hiding out here come running.

  When the day stayed quiet except for the brush of air over grass and leaves, he turned the engine off. This would not be his choice to hold someone in. In this day with internet videos and all the crime shows on television, the criminals had grown more savvy. This building looked hard to defend and easy to escape from. Just as Holt liked them.

  He slipped to the front door and obvious entrance. A quick walk around the place uncovered few other options. Holt decided to go with the door where the ceiling looked the sturdiest.

  He thought about what Lindsey’s fear level must be, and his temper raged. She sat around here somewhere, alone and afraid. Possibly injured thanks to Todd’s manhandling.

  Holt vowed he would rip every building apart and question every person on campus if needed. He had to get her out no matter the cost.

  After a quick visual check of the inside through the slim crack in the wall, Holt moved. He pushed on the door and the wood creaked. At least it moved. He could work with that.

  Large boxes of equipment, now old and useless thanks to the ever-present Oregon rain, blocked his path. He tried to ease his hand inside. He shoved and worked until he could move his fingers and raise a latch. Breaking in didn’t matter to Holt, but this proved quieter and preserved the scene. If his calculations were off or the tracker misfired, Holt didn’t want to leave a trail leading back to him.

  He used his shoulder to move the door the rest of the way. The hinges squeaked but the door moved. Holt only needed a small space to slip inside. Once he had it, he disappeared into the building.

  It took a second for his eyes to adjust to the fading light. The inside was open, with scaling walls and piles of debris in each corner. Dirty windows set up high blocked most of the light and made breaking in or out through them impossible.

  The location did not make any sense. No way would Simon keep a valuable asset here. Not with the sorely lacking security.

  Holt had walked a few steps before the wrongness of the situation hit him. The quiet bothered him. So did the potential of a tracker malfunction. He was about to turn around or back his way out when he saw the sliver of light. Barely identifiable right there in a small space where the walls supposedly met.

  He visually traced the edges. Thought about the layout of the building and the possibility of a room being behind this one. Seemed like an odd choice, but then again nothing should surprise him. He’d been on a wild ride since he got to Oregon. Nothing went as expected and death fell all around him.

  Holt went in to investigate. There were boxes stacked and blocking a better look. He lifted everything aside, all while making zero noise. Not an easy task, but he’d do just about anything for Lindsey.

  He’d sell his soul for a promise of her safety right now. Anything to keep her from the inevitable confrontation with her uncle. The man who should be dead and if Holt had any say would be soon.

  The transformation from sidekick to leader didn’t make all that much sense. Usually a big thing had to happen for that sort of change. Holt made a mental note to see if there were any weapon dumps around that time. Somehow, somewhere, this guy caught everyone’s attention. If most people never met him, that ruled out charismatic speaker. Very few other alternatives made sense.

  Holt slipped his knife out of his pocket to match the gun in his other hand. He’d burst through the wall if he had to. Go in firing as soon as he located Lindsey’s position and could account for her safety.

  He ran his fingers over the wall, looking for any mechanism to open it. Nothing happened. When he finally ran the tips up and down the outside of the molding around the door, he found it. A small button. He clicked it and heard the grinding of gears. A ticking sound and a thunk and then the door in front of him opened.

  Lindsey, behind a thick see-through partition, sitting in a cell that spanned about eight-by-eight. She sat there on the floor with her arms around her knees and her forehead resting on her arms. It took a second to realize she was unhurt. Holt didn’t see blood or the signs of pain.

  Just as he was about to call to her, her head shot up. She blinked a few times and her mouth dropped open.

  That fast, the look of relief on her face turned to horror. She motioned and he started to turn, but it was too late. The unexpected elbow shot nailed him in the back and sent him to his knees.

  The next one landed on the side of his head. Something hard and possibly metal. Holt tried to reason it out as he forced his body to keep from keeling over, but the room started to spin and bile ran up the back of his throat.

  He forced his eyes open as he watched Lindsey, all panicked and jumpy, put her hand against the partition separating them. Then a blinding pain flashed across his temples and everything went black.

  * * *

  SIMON CLOSED DOWN his computer and removed the hard drive. He had numerous security measures in place. No one but him had computer access at the camp, so unwanted access to the outside world rarely was a problem for him.

  He never left anything lying around that he didn’t want found. Sometimes that was the best way to spread the word about some bit of news, like the leak about Grant and hints about Lindsey’s involvement. Start the gossip and let the members spread it so he could rush in and console. Most times, he had information no one else needed to know.

  Today he was in a rush to see Lindsey. She’d been on-site for an hour. Cameras carefully monitored her position. As soon as he had a word with Hank about the new expectations for his position, he would meet his honored guest.

  Today was the day.

  There was a knock at the door, but before he had a chance to say anything Todd came storming in. “We have a new problem.”

  Not one to bellyache without reason, Todd was the type of guy who rarely showed nerves and when he did everyone got scared. But he wasn’t privy to everything happening at the camp or with the people involved in the activities. More than likely he saw an expected entrance as a problem.

  “I see Hank has arrived.” Simon had watched it all on the monitors, then sat back and waited to see what Hank would do. He didn’t show any signs of nerves or of wanting Lindsey back, which Simon found interesting. “Good. I’m in the mood for a demonstration of loyalty. It’s his turn.”

  “That’s just it. He’s not Hank.”

  Something inside Simon crashed. He oversaw every careful plan, every perfectly placed domino. He could ill afford to have Hank be a wild card. “What?”

  “Lindsey called him Holt.”

  More than likely Hank was short for Holt or some other name. They all sounded close, so Simon didn’t worry about that. No, he had a much bigger concern and it dealt with ongoing incompetence. “How did they see each other? She is locked up and he is...where?”

  Todd didn’t hide or back down, despite the rise in Simon’s voice at the end. “He is with her. Now. He came on the property and went straight to the barn. Didn’t work or go to the lockers.”

  For Simon to believe that Hank or Holt just knew to go there would amount to a coincidence. Simon didn’t believe in those. He would need to be open to those, and he wasn’t. Not even a little. “You’re certain?”

  “He didn’t draw any attention. Acted as if he was doing work, but he went out there.” Todd shrugged. “You could see the guy’s training.”

  Simon had seen some of that talent on the video screens and believed Hank, or whatever his name was, was checking in just like any other day. But it sounded as if he’d switched to rescue mode and Simon didn’t know how Hank would know where Lindsey was or that she needed help in the first place.

  He rarely made mis
takes but suddenly Simon questioned every piece of information he’d gathered on this Holt or Hank guy. “You followed, I assume.”

  Todd nodded. “Yes.”

  “Good work.” Now Simon would rip down every wall until he got the truth out of Hank, which raised another issue. “You said Hank went to find Lindsey.”

  “Found her.” Todd’s mouth fell into a flat line. “He’s locked in with Lindsey.”

  The cell. One door and a firm see-through bulletproof shield. Just what Simon needed for questioning. “Perfect. They can celebrate seeing each other for the last time.”

  “Who do you think he really is? I mean, come on. Those skills are impressive. I had the advantage of surprise on my side, but without it...” Todd shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  Simon did. He knew his men could take on one dishonorably discharged military member and come out ahead.

  “I’m more concerned that Hank knew about the location of the building. No one goes there.” Simon made sure of it. He did some work on the structure, but no one ventured out that far. If they did they were told to stay away.

  “It was like she led him there somehow.”

  “It would appear Hank or Holt or whatever he calls himself has a lot of explaining to do.” And some secrets Simon wanted to uncover.

  “Are you going to let him talk?” Todd sounded as though he’d prefer the answer to be no.

  “Since I can teach him a lesson in the process, of course.” One he wouldn’t forget because he wouldn’t live to talk about it.

  Todd’s eyes narrowed. “He’s a dangerous guy to keep around.”

  Simon knew that all too well. “But he won’t be once we kill him.”

  Todd actually smiled. “Good.”

  “And keep watch.” This part got trickier. Holt alone was lethal. He could be a true threat if he banded with a friend or a team. “I remember him saying something about having a friend in town. They could be working together.”

  “If so?”

  An easy question. “Lindsey will get to watch them both die.”

 

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