Caliber Detective Agency Box Set 2

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Caliber Detective Agency Box Set 2 Page 6

by Remington Kane


  Ariana looked into the backseat.

  “You can handle those two?”

  “Not a problem, the way I got them cuffed they’re not going anywhere, and no one can see them through the tinted windows.”

  Gail spoke to them.

  “You two will pay for killing Rayne Carver, and for everything else, Jake Caliber will see to that.”

  Monroe laughed.

  “That old man’s time has passed, lady.”

  “That old man is ten times the man you’ll ever be, and so are my sons.”

  Ariana sent Monroe a smile.

  “You’re going to have a fun trip back.”

  “Yeah, but listen, follow me out of here, I know a shortcut that goes past the lake.”

  Monroe waited until he heard Ariana’s car start and then drove off. Ariana followed along behind him, leaving Rayne’s vehicle sitting alone.

  ***

  Back at the cliff, a struggle was going on, the struggle to survive, as Rayne held on to one end of a set of handcuffs, while the other end was attached to the anchor, an anchor that had embedded itself into the side of the cliff.

  The anchor was designed to be used horizontally but had proven itself just as useful vertically.

  When Rayne fell over the side of the cliff dragging the anchor along behind her, the anchor’s prongs began throwing off sparks as they struck the cliff face, and then, one of them began digging into the friable rock, finally embedding itself deep into a crevice.

  The stroke of luck saved her life; however, her left shoulder was severely damaged from the bullet, and hung uselessly, as blood flowed from its wound. Her knees were skinned as well, along with her chin, because when the anchor caused her fall to suddenly stop, the recoil scraped her against the face of the cliff.

  All Rayne could do was hold on and pray that Chris would arrive and find her before she weakened too much to sustain her grip on the cuffs.

  She dared not call out while she still heard voices up above, but knew she had to risk it eventually or she may not be discovered.

  “Help! Somebody help me!”

  No answer, Chris had not arrived yet or he was out of reach of her shouts. As the handcuff bit into her fingers, Rayne looked down at the jagged rocks below and knew that her chance of survival was getting narrower with every second.

  CHAPTER 14

  After finding Rayne’s car sitting alone, Chris aimed his vehicle down the dirt track and came upon the cabin.

  Velma pointed at Tate’s Yukon.

  “Look at that car; it’s been shot-up.”

  Chris skidded to a stop thirty feet from the cabin and he and Velma got out and used his car as a shield.

  “Rayne! Where are you?” Chris called.

  When there was no answer, his face grew dark with worry and he headed slowly towards the cabin.

  Velma grabbed his arm.

  “Be careful, this could be a trap you know?”

  “Set by who, Rayne?”

  “Yes, I mean we don’t know that much about her, do we?”

  “I’ll be careful, but I think it’s more likely that she got hurt by whatever went on out here.”

  They spotted the blood and saw the trail leading off into the woods.

  Chris froze at the sight and Velma noticed.

  “That could be anyone’s blood, not your mother’s.”

  Chris took a deep breath and continued walking.

  “Rayne’s last text said to go into the woods, so let’s follow this trail.”

  “We have to check out the cabin first and then we can—did you hear that?”

  “What?” Chris said.

  “It came from the woods, someone calling for help, and I think it was a woman.”

  The sound came again, and this time Chris detected it too. He tried the cabin’s front door and found it locked.

  “Forget the cabin for now, that could be my mother calling for help.”

  They followed the blood into the trees and Chris called out.

  “Hello! Who’s there?”

  When he listened again, Chris heard his name being called.

  “I think that’s Rayne; she must be in trouble. Rayne! Keep calling out so we can find you!”

  As Rayne’s voice grew clearer, they followed it to the edge of the cliff.

  Velma spotted her first, and cried out in shock.

  “Oh my God.”

  Chris followed her gaze and saw Rayne staring up at them with a mixture of pain, fatigue, and relief shining in her eyes.

  “Chris, thank God you found me.”

  “Hold on honey and we’ll bring you up with a rope.”

  “Do you have any rope in your car?” Velma asked Chris.

  “Damn, no I don’t.” Chris checked his phone and found that he also had no service. “I’m not getting a signal here. Go back to the cabin and look for anything we can use. I’ll stay here with Rayne.”

  Velma nodded in agreement and sprinted back towards the cabin.

  “Hold on honey and Velma and I will get you back up here.”

  “Please hurry, I don’t think I can hold on much longer.”

  “How did this happen?”

  “I saw your mother and she was fine. She was with a man named Tate. Ariana was about to kill them, but I wounded her before I was ambushed.”

  Chris stared at her wound, which was dripping blood down the left side of her body.

  “That shoulder looks bad.”

  “I don’t think I can hold on much longer, Chris.”

  “Yes you can, do you hear me? You just keep holding on and I’ll come down there and get you.”

  Velma returned carrying a stack of sheets along with a pair of scissors and a knife.

  “I couldn’t find any rope, but we may be able to make a rescue line with these. There was also a phone inside the cabin connected to a landline. There should be help here very soon.”

  “How did you get inside the cabin?” Chris asked.

  “I broke a window and climbed in; there was no one there and no signs of violence inside.”

  Rayne called up to them in a weak voice.

  “Guys, please hurry, my, my hand is slipping.”

  Chris looked at the sheets and grimaced.

  “I don’t think she’ll last long enough for us to fashion a lifeline.”

  Velma ran a hand through her hair as she gazed about in distress.

  “There’s nothing else to do.”

  Chris undid his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt.

  “I’ll climb down and stay with her until help arrives.”

  “Climb down? How?”

  “I used to climb a lot when I lived in California and I still do it occasionally here.”

  “But that was with equipment, right, and likely on solid rock?”

  “Most of the time, but I’ve also done some Free Climbing without any ropes.”

  Velma took him by the arm and pulled him away from the ledge.

  “You can’t risk your life like this, and besides, there’s help on the way.”

  “What timeframe did they give you?”

  “They said twenty to twenty-five minutes because of the remoteness of the location.”

  Chris cupped Velma’s face in his hands.

  “Baby, she won’t last that long. If I don’t do something she’ll die.”

  “I know, but I can’t lose you.”

  “You won’t. As much as I want to help her, I’m not suicidal, but I have to try.”

  Chris returned to the edge and called down.

  “Hang on Rayne, I’m coming.”

  After laying down flat, he eased his legs over the side and gripped the edge of the drop off. The cliff face was full of crevices and divots where rock had fallen off, but not all of them seemed strong enough to bear his weight.

  Rayne shouted up at him in a weak voice.

  “Go back! It’s too dangerous!”

  He ignored her shouts, which were barely loud enough to hear, and wondered
if her blood loss was weakening her further. If she passed out, no one could save her.

  Chris found a rhythm that worked and was able to quicken his descent. When at last he lowered himself beside Rayne, he was shocked to see that she was clinging on to the end of the handcuff by only two fingers.

  With his left hand firmly secured in a crevice and one foot jammed into a hole, Chris used his right arm and grabbed Rayne about the waist.

  “I’ve got you, honey, I’ve got you!”

  “Thank you, oh God thank you.”

  Rayne collapsed against him, barely conscious, as blood flowed freely from her wound.

  Up above, Velma lay on her stomach and peered down at them.

  “How is she?”

  “She’s lost a lot of blood, but she’ll be fine once she gets medical attention.”

  “How long can you hold on like that?”

  “As long as it takes,” Chris said.

  It took another thirty-two minutes before rescuers rappelled down to them and brought them up.

  Chris’s left arm was numb from the strain, but it was in far better condition than Rayne’s left shoulder, which had suffered a bullet wound.

  Chris had just finished explaining what little he knew about what went on there to the local police when an ambulance attendant waved him over.

  Rayne lay atop a gurney with an intravenous drip attached to her good arm.

  “After I fell, I heard them talking as I was hanging there and it must have been Tate’s partner that shot me, a man named Bob Monroe.”

  “This Tate and Monroe, what are they, business partners?”

  “They’re cops; your mother called Tate, Detective Tate. She said he was a friend, but Monroe is dirty and working for Dawkins, Javier’s boss. He said that Dawkins wanted your mother and Tate brought back to the city.”

  “You did great, Rayne, more than anyone could have asked.”

  Rayne took his hand.

  “You saved my life, Chris, and you risked yours to do it.”

  “Get better, honey, and we’ll talk when you’re back on your feet.”

  As the ambulance rode away, Chris told Velma what Rayne had overheard.

  “It sounds like she saved your mother’s life.”

  “I think she did, at least for the time being, but we have to learn where they’ve taken her and this man Tate.”

  “If Tate and Monroe are cops then that sounds like something Tom Delaney could help us with. He should be able to track down what station they work out of.”

  “We’ll use the phone in the cabin to make our calls; Granddad is going to want to hear about this right away.”

  Velma took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

  “Your mother is alive, Chris, and now that we know who took her, we’ll get her back.”

  He smiled.

  “Thanks to Rayne.”

  Velma gave him a forced smile back.

  “Yes, thanks to Rayne.”

  CHAPTER 15

  “Shit,” Jake hissed, more from embarrassment than fear, as he felt the tip of a gun barrel press against the back of his head. “My gun’s in a shoulder rig on my left side.”

  A gravelly voice answered him.

  “I’m more worried about the knife you just slipped out of your inside pocket.”

  Jake spun around at the sound of the voice and found his grandfather smiling at him.

  “I should have known. You’re the only one I never see coming.”

  “Only because I’ve got more experience than you, but hell, I’ve got more experience than anybody.”

  As the old man put his gun away, Jake refolded his knife. They were standing three doors down from Dawkins’ building, where Jake was keeping watch on Dawkins’ car, waiting for the man to move so that he could follow him.

  “Chris called me with news.”

  The old man held up his phone.

  “I heard.”

  Jake smiled.

  “I see Kelli is teaching you new tricks.”

  “I gotta admit it, the damn thing comes in handy.”

  “I called Tommy and he’s looking into Tate and Monroe, especially Monroe; it sounds like he could lead us right to Mother.”

  “Since you’re still here I guess that Dawkins hasn’t moved. Are you sure he hasn’t slipped out the back way and caught a cab?”

  “Shea O’Reilly is back there keeping watch, her and a giant named Hector.”

  “O’Reilly I know, but who’s this Hector?”

  “A new friend, particularly to O’Reilly.”

  “It sounds like Hector has good taste, and how did you get that bruise above your eye?”

  “The same Hector, before we were friends.”

  Jake’s phone vibrated and he took it out and read the caller ID.

  “It’s O’Reilly,” Jake said, and put the call on speaker mode. “What’s up, is it Dawkins?”

  “Nah, but listen, I called around and found what you needed. Detectives James Tate and Robert Monroe work out of the 35th Precinct. I’m not enough of a big shot to get his home address, but at least now you’ll know where to find him.”

  “I could kiss you, O’Reilly.”

  “Promises, promises, but hey, have you heard back from Delaney?”

  “No, and it’s not like Tommy to ignore my calls.”

  “I bet he could find Monroe’s home address.”

  “So can I, but that would take time we don’t have.”

  “What about that Queens detective, Alvera? She’s working the case isn’t she?”

  “Yeah, but I wanted to confront Monroe alone. I may need to get... persuasive.”

  “Dirty or not, Monroe is still a cop, Caliber.”

  “He has my mother, Shea.”

  “I hear you, Jake.”

  “Listen, my granddad is here. While I hook up with Alvera he’ll be keeping an eye on Dawkins.”

  “So I get to work with the top dog? Hot damn.”

  “I’ll give you both each other’s number so that you two can stay in touch.”

  “Right, and good luck with Monroe.”

  ***

  It turned out that Alvera was still nearby, and Jake told her about Monroe’s connection to the case.

  She used her resources to get his home address, and Jake rode with her to Bedford Avenue in Brooklyn.

  “That’s that new apartment building by the park. I know the area and the rents aren’t cheap,” Jake said.

  “I noticed that too, but dirty or not, you realize that I can’t just stand by and let you beat answers out of the man.”

  “You could wait in the car.”

  Alvera turned her head and stared at him for a moment before returning her gaze to the road.

  “I can’t do that, Jake.”

  “He knows where my mother is and he damn near killed Rayne Carver.”

  “Yes, and he doesn’t know that Carver survived. We can use that to make him talk. He’ll be facing an attempted murder charge for shooting her; he won’t want to add murder on top of it.”

  “And what if he lawyers up, what then?”

  Alvera said nothing more, but just kept driving.

  ***

  In Brooklyn, Detective Robert Monroe returned to his apartment after handing Gail and Tate over to Dawkins’ man, Gannon.

  He felt bad about what was going to happen to Tate, but working for Dawkins had proven too lucrative to let anything threaten it.

  Monroe opened the door to his apartment, a two-bedroom two-bath luxury unit with a view of the Manhattan skyline.

  The rent cost more than he brought home on his detective’s salary and Monroe thought that the view alone was worth Tate’s life. He had talked Dawkins into bringing Tate onboard in order to help his partner with his money woes, but if Tate was stupid enough to risk everything for the life of a stranger, well then, let that be on his head.

  After entering the apartment, Monroe turned to close the door and that’s when the man in the ski mask forced his way in
and aimed a gun at him.

  “Whoa! What the hell is this? A robbery?”

  “Gail Caliber, where is she?”

  Monroe hesitated before speaking, as his mind raced over possibilities.

  “You’re one of them, aren’t you, a Caliber?”

  “Gail Caliber, tell me where she is or so help me I’ll kill you.”

  Monroe sent the masked man a shrug.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The man in the mask fired, and Monroe’s right knee was shredded by the impact of the bullet passing through it, collapsing him to the floor.

  “Aaaahhhggg! Oh sweet Jesus...” Monroe moaned, as the masked man pressed the warm barrel of the gun against his forehead.

  “Gail Caliber!”

  Monroe, eyes damp with tears from the agony in his knee, squinted up at his attacker.

  “Dawkins has her... 45th Street Parking, near 3rd Avenue... oh God, please call me an ambulance.”

  The masked man stared down at him.

  “You’re an ambulance.”

  The gun left Monroe’s head followed by the man in the mask leaving the apartment.

  ***

  The old man headed for his car after seeing Dawkins exit the building. He only had Jake’s description to go by, but Dawkins’ long hair made him stand out.

  As the old man followed Dawkins, he called O’Reilly.

  “I’m tailing Dawkins, so you and Hector can stand down.”

  “I’m in this for the duration, so just call every few minutes and let me know where you are.”

  “I will O’Reilly, and Shea?”

  “Yes sir?”

  “You’re good people to help out like this, and I won’t forget it.”

  “Hey, you’re Jake Caliber, the Jake Caliber, so it’s my pleasure.”

  “Thanks doll.”

  ***

  Alvera double-parked her car, and as she and Jake got out, he received a text message.

  “Son of a bitch...”

  Alvera stared at him.

  “What is it?”

  “Listen to this text. ‘Gail Caliber is being held at 45th Street Parking, near 3rd Avenue.’”

  “Who sent it?”

  “It says, Unknown.”

  A man stuck his head out the front door of the building. He had graying temples, wore a black suit and tie, and spoke with a Russian accent.

  “You’re police, right? Thank God you were quick, but where’s the ambulance? Mr. Monroe is in great pain.”

 

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