by Mary Burton
Warwick shoved out a breath. He was struggling to hold it together. And if they’d had time, Zack would have pulled him out of there immediately. But he sensed that time was running out.
‘I want a look in that basement but I don’t want a defense attorney crapping on my case because I don’t have a warrant.’
Warwick dug in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. ‘I have access to the gym with no restrictions.’ He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. ‘If I needed a new set of gloves and couldn’t find them upstairs, I’d look in the basement. It’s where Pete kept extra equipment when I was here last year.’
Zack smiled but there was no pleasure. ‘I was hoping you’d say something like that.’
Warwick opened the basement door lock and flipped the light switch at the top of the stairs. Both cops drew their guns. Slowly they made their way down the rickety steps, their bodies crouched.
Halfway down, Zack moved past Warwick and peered around a blind corner. He saw the computer table. The monitors. And the rows and rows of tapes, each meticulously dated and arranged in chronological order.
Warwick stared at the room in horror and disbelief. His world was shattering. But he was holding it together. Later the problems would come as the enormity of it all hit him.
The heavy coppery scent of blood rose up as they moved toward the computer. Zack glanced toward a second door. He motioned to Warwick.
Warwick nodded. Guns raised, they moved to either side of the door. Zack counted to three. On three he shoved open the door. ‘Police, come out with your hands up.’
A faint moan echoed from the corner. It sounded as if someone was injured. Still, he didn’t rush the room.
Careful to keep his body out of a shooter’s line of fire, Zack slid his hand into the room and felt around for a light switch. He found one and clicked it on.
The first thing they saw was the blood. The entire floor was covered with it. This had been the Guardian’s killing room. No doubt Saunders’s DNA would be all over the place.
Warwick’s gaze settled in a shadowed corner. ‘Oh my God.’
Zack tightened his grip on his gun. ‘What?’
‘Kendall Shaw.’
While Zack covered him, Warwick holstered his gun and hurried toward the reporter. She lay on the floor curled in a fetal position. Fresh blood pooled around her and stained her clothes.
Zack still didn’t trust that this wasn’t some kind of trap. ‘Is she alive?’
Warwick touched his fingers to her neck. ‘A faint pulse. She’s been shot in the shoulder.’ He flipped open his cell phone and dialed Dispatch. ‘All this blood. It’s a miracle she’s alive.’
‘Check her hands. Does she have both her hands?’
The doors to the hospital’s garage elevator opened and Dr Sam Begley walked out. The Guardian got out of the van and glanced at the clock above the elevator. ‘About damn time.’
The doctor frowned and kept moving toward his shiny BMW. ‘I couldn’t get away. We had an emergency.’
‘I have an emergency. I need to know where Lindsay is.’
‘She’s not in the hospital. I looked everywhere.’
‘Who was the battered woman brought in? You know never to call Lindsay without calling me first.’
Sam’s forehead perspired. ‘I didn’t treat a battered woman today. No one from the hospital called Lindsay.’
‘Damn it.’
‘The cops were here. They brought Lindsay and her roommate in for blood tests Wednesday. Did you drug them?’
The Guardian was running over an image of Lindsay standing in Ruby’s kitchen. She’d been called by the hospital. He was certain. ‘Yes. It was the only way to keep them safe while I worked.’
‘Jesus. You never said anything about hurting Lindsay.’
He didn’t like the doctor’s tone. ‘I would never hurt her.’
Begley shook his head. ‘You shot those kids today. Christ, one is dead and the other is fighting to stay alive.’
Guilt gnawed at him. ‘They could ID me. They had to go.’
‘This has gone too far. I’m out. It’s just a matter of time before the cops connect us.’
The doctor didn’t have the conviction to honor agreements. Spoiled rich boy had had everything handed to him on a silver platter. He didn’t understand commitment. ‘You promised me you’d help whenever I asked.’
Begley lowered his voice. ‘I’d never have gotten into this if not for my debts. I’ve more than satisfied my gambling debts to you. I never want to see you again.’
The Guardian slid his hand into his pocket. His fingers brushed the cool metal of his gun and silencer. ‘You’re done when I say you’re done.’
Begley pulled off his glasses and cleaned the lenses on his shirt. The man actually looked defiant. ‘I’m finished.’
The shrill tone in the doctor’s voice grated. The Guardian could see the man was nervous. It wouldn’t take much squeezing from the cops to make him talk. He’d like to use the doctor longer, but now he realized the time had come for them to part ways. ‘If that’s the way you want it.’
‘Good.’
The Guardian pulled the gun and silencer from his pocket and before the doctor realized what was happening, he fired three times. Each bullet struck Begley in the heart. For just a split second, surprise marred the doctor’s face as he glanced down at the plume of blood growing on his chest. He staggered and would have fallen if the Guardian hadn’t caught him.
The thrill of taking life sent a tingle through the Guardian’s body. ‘You were part of a noble cause and I won’t forget what you did for me.’
Begley’s eyes rolled back in his head. He was dead.
The Guardian opened the back of his van and dumped Begley’s body in. He’d deal with him later. Now, he needed to find Lindsay.
He got in the front seat of the van and turned on a GPS system. The system tracked a bug he’d put under the back bumper of Lindsay’s car. Since he’d seen the article about her in May and realized who she was he’d been determined never to lose sight of her again. At any given moment, he could find her.
The GPS beeped and at first he thought it was broken. Then he realized she was parked in the hospital deck. He turned on the engine and started to patrol the decks. He found her car on the bottom level. With the van still running, he got out and checked her car. It was locked. He scanned the deck but there was no sign of her.
Something was wrong.
The feeling was as intense as it had been those years Debra had lived with her husband. He’d known she was in danger then but he’d bowed to her will and left them alone as she’d begged him to.
He got back in the van and pulled a disposable cell from his pocket and he dialed Lindsay’s number. It rang six times and then went to voice mail. Something was very wrong. She always answered her cell.
He closed his eyes. Think. Where could she be? Think.
The Guardian’s mind raced. This morning when Lindsay had been in Ruby’s kitchen, Ruby had spoken of the San Francisco murder. The Carmichael woman. She’d also mentioned that Nicole’s husband, Richard Braxton, was from San Francisco.
It made sense that Richard would eventually find Nicole. But he hadn’t thought it would be so soon. If Richard was in the area, he’d not likely find her, because she was safely hidden at the Kiers’. But Lindsay was an open target. He’d go after Lindsay first and use her to get to Nicole.
How could he have been such a fool?
He’d been so consumed with Kendall that he’d ignored a critical danger. He’d made the same mistake he’d made with Debra all those years ago, when he’d underestimated his brother-in-law’s rage.
The Guardian felt a rush of panic as he tightened his hands on the steering wheel. He had to think. Think like a hunter. What would he do with Lindsay if he were Richard?
He might kill her in front of Nicole as some sort of lesson. Richard would need a secluded place. The scenarios made the Guardian sick but also ga
ve him hope. There might still be time.
Nicole was at the Kiers’ and there was the possibility he could beat Braxton there. He dialed the Kiers’ home number.
‘Hello.’
He suspected the young voice belonged to Zack’s sister, Eleanor. She was a sweet kid and Lindsay had great affection for her. ‘This is Dr Begley at the hospital. I’m calling to speak to Lindsay.’
‘Lindsay’s not here.’
‘Is her friend Nicole there?’
‘She’s in the bathroom.’
Good. She was still there. ‘Don’t bother her. I’ll just call back.’
‘Okay.’
He hung up and threw the car in drive. He still had time, but how much he didn’t know. He raced out of the parking deck and cut through city traffic and onto I-95 north.
His heart pounded as he wove in and out of the traffic. He couldn’t screw this one up. He couldn’t.
Twenty minutes later, he pulled onto the rural road leading to the Kiers’ and slowly drove past their house. He parked in a driveway down the street, climbed out of the van, and hurried through the woods that separated the houses. Staying low, he moved toward the house. At first he saw only Mrs Kier, who was at the kitchen sink washing dishes. He needed to move closer to get a better look but feared being detected.
His pulse raced. ‘Get out of the way,’ he whispered.
And then she stepped aside and he was able to see into the kitchen. Nicole was at the table playing cards with anther woman and an older man.
He breathed a sigh of relief. There was still time. He hurried back to his van and prayed Braxton hadn’t hurt Lindsay.
The drugs in Lindsay’s system made it hard for her to concentrate. She was aware of strong hands supporting her as she stumbled forward. She couldn’t seem to lift her feet or keep her balance.
The area around them was quiet. Wherever they were was far from the main road. She opened her eyes and saw she was being taken toward an old barn.
The air was thick with humidity and sweat had dampened the back of her shirt. ‘Where are we?’ she muttered.
The man holding her laughed. ‘We are in a very private place. Where no one will bother us. Where no one will hear you scream.’
Lindsay swallowed her rising terror. ‘Why are you doing this? Who are you?’
‘I’m someone who doesn’t appreciate you sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.’
‘Who are you?’
‘Christina’s husband.’
Christina. Nicole. ‘Richard Braxton.’
‘So she’s talked about me?’ Hate and resentment laced the words.
‘Yes.’
Braxton kicked open the rickety barn door and pulled her inside across the dirt floor. When they were in the center, he let go of her. She crumpled face-first into a heap. She tasted dirt and tried to spit it out of her mouth as she rolled onto her back. Above, she saw sunshine peeking through the slats of a room. In the distance she heard birds.
Lindsay moistened her lips. She felt so dry. There was little doubt that Richard planned an awful death for her. She remembered what Zack had told her he’d done to Claire.
She opened her eyes. Her vision was blurred but she could make out dark hair and a square face. She tried to sit up but he roughly pushed her against the hard ground. He straddled her body. She felt his erection press against her belly and she thought he was going to rape her.
She wanted to fight but found her body drifting as if she were on a raft floating out to sea.
Instead, he pounded two stakes into the ground above her head and then roughly grabbed her hands and lashed them tightly to the stakes. His weight lifted and he moved to her legs. He yanked her legs open wide and tied them to more stakes, then hammered them into the ground.
She tried to pull her hands free of the stakes, but they didn’t budge. The hemp cut into the tender flesh of her wrist.
Through the haze, Lindsay understood that she needed to do something to save herself. She drew in a lungful of air and screamed as loud as she could.
Richard cursed, drew back, and slapped her hard across the face. ‘Shut up, bitch. I don’t have time for this.’
Pain rattled through her head.
He slid his hand to the flat of her belly and up under her shirt. He squeezed her breast painfully. She struggled in vain against her restraints as her stomach heaved at the thought of what was to come.
Richard put his lips next to her ear. ‘I don’t have time for you right now. I have to go get Christina. I want her to watch what I’m going to do.’
Abruptly he got up and left the barn. She heard the engine of his car fire up and gravel kick up under the tires as he drove off.
Tears burned in her eyes.
She was not going to die like this. She started to work on the restraints on her hands and ignored the way the rope sliced into her wrists.
Nicole was lost in thought as she sat at the kitchen table across from Eleanor and Mr Kier. The pregnancy test she’d taken this morning had been positive. She was carrying Richard’s baby.
At first she’d been so numb that she’d not been able to leave the bathroom. She’d sat on the floor and cried.
And then Eleanor had called out to her. So she’d dried her tears and come downstairs.
She laid down her hand of cards on the kitchen table. ‘Gin.’
Eleanor frowned and leaned forward to study the hand. ‘You don’t have gin.’
Absentmindedly, Nicole glanced down. ‘I don’t?’
‘No. You can’t have a straight with mismatched suits.’
‘Oh.’
‘Geez. Can’t anyone play a decent game?’
The phone rang and Audrey came into the kitchen and answered it. ‘Sure, just a minute. Nicole, the phone is for you.’
Grateful for the distraction, she left her cards and moved to the wall phone.
Audrey smiled as she handed her the receiver. ‘It’s a policeman.’
Tension rose. ‘Thanks. Hello?’
‘Christina.’
Richard’s smooth voice raked down her spine. Her grip tightened around the receiver. ‘What do you want?’
‘I’m outside, parked at the edge of the driveway. I want you to smile to the nice people and then walk out the front door, come down the drive, and get into my car. If you don’t, I’ll be forced to do some very nasty things to your friend, Ms O’Neil.’
Nicole glanced over at Eleanor, who laughed as her father came into the room and tickled her. Audrey stood at the stove working on a pot of sauce.
‘Don’t keep me waiting, Nicole,’ Richard urged.
Steel cut through the silk. She knew Richard. He would do exactly what he said. ‘I’ll be right there.’
She hung up and managed a smile. ‘I think I need to get a bit of fresh air.’
Audrey frowned. ‘You look pale, Nicole. Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine. Just need some fresh air.’
Kier lifted a brow. ‘Who was that on the phone?’
‘Detective Warwick,’ she lied. ‘He wants to interview me again.’
‘I’ll go outside with you,’ he said.
‘No, no. Challenge Eleanor to a game of gin. I’ve been a bad opponent so far. I’m going outside for just a few minutes.’ The lies tumbled off her tongue so easily.
Mr Kier studied her. ‘All right.’
She turned and stiffly walked out the door. Before she went outside, she stopped at the entryway table, where she’d left her purse. She grabbed her cell phone and a vial of mace and put them in her pocket. Richard wouldn’t expect too much resistance from her. And hopefully she could use that to her advantage.
As she reached the country road just out of sight of the house, she saw a dark Mercedes. Black and sleek, it looked out of place.
The tinted passenger window rolled down. Richard sat behind the wheel looking so calm and relaxed. ‘Good to see you, Christina. If you’re thinking about running, I thought I should tell you that
I have your friend Lindsay stashed in a very unpleasant place. If anything happens to me, she’ll be long dead before anyone ever finds her.’
Nicole opened the door and slid into the front passenger seat. ‘Let her go, Richard. You have me. Just let her go.’
His eyes darkened. ‘Close the door, Christina. Now.’
Woodenly, Nicole closed it. If she made a move for the mace and did subdue him, what would happen to Lindsay? She had to wait for the right moment.
The doors locked immediately. He started to drive. ‘You’ve cut your hair. I don’t like it.’
She didn’t know what to say to that and decided to stay quiet.
‘But hair grows, doesn’t it?’ He frowned. ‘Put your seat belt on, Christina. I don’t want you getting hurt.’
She swallowed and tried not to let her fear show. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Home, eventually. But first we have a stop to make.’
‘Where?’ she demanded.
White teeth flashed. ‘You’ll see.’
Lindsay had trouble shaking the effects of the drug. Her mind wanted to drift and her eyes to close. She wanted to float and let the drug take her.
But as seductive as the drug was she knew if she gave in to it she would die.
She had to keep her thoughts focused. To get free of the ropes binding her was a challenge. To keep herself awake, she started to talk.
‘Mom, if you’re up there, I could use some help. Zack’s a great cop, but I don’t think he’s going to figure this one out.’
She’d managed to loosen the binding around her right hand, though she’d not freed her hand completely. Her wrist was raw from the constant rubbing and pulling against the rope. She focused on the pain in her wrist and the stones on the ground that now dug into her back.
It was hard to judge how much time had passed. But she knew she had to hurry. Time was running out. She moistened her dry lips and opened her eyes. She shook her head from side to side.
‘Remember how we dreamed of driving to California?’ She kept twisting her right wrist, ignoring the pain. Blood ran down the wrist. ‘Remember how we’d pore over the maps and imagine every step of the route?’
