Dead in the Water

by Denise Swanson

  “I’m going, too.” Skye stood, and as both Carson and Tuck voiced their objections, she said, “I can either go with you or drive myself. It’s not as if I don’t know the address. Let’s not waste time arguing because, one way or another, I will be there.”

  Complaining about her stubbornness, the men gathered up Tuck’s equipment, then escorted Skye to the Hummer. Her father-in-law helped her climb into the backseat, assisted her with the seat belt, then got behind the wheel and roared out of the driveway, gravel flying behind the SUV.

  “What’s the plan?” Carson asked, glancing at Tuck as he made a sharp turn at the corner.

  “From alpha’s team recon, your son’s kidnappers are a small motorcycle gang.” Tuck turned toward Carson and Skye studied his calm expression. “The gang appears to be in the process of retreating from the area. Because the ransom drop is set for midnight, I figure that all or some will stick around until that time.”

  “When will we rescue Wally?” Skye asked, frowning at Tuck’s recap.

  “My men and I will be in position to make our move when the moment is right.” Tuck put an arm over the seat back and looked at Skye. “As long as no one enters the basement, we’ll wait until the house empties. Either when the gang leaves to pick up the ransom or they decamp for good.”

  “And if they head to the basement?” Skye asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “Then we scoop him up immediately.” Tuck reached back and patted Skye’s hand. “I guarantee you that this is the safest way to extract Wally.”

  Skye nodded and said, “Okay. As I promised, I’ll wait in the car, but I want some kind of weapon in case there’s a problem.”

  “Absolutely,” Tuck said, then asked, “What type of gun do you normally shoot?”

  “Uh.” Skye bit her lip. Wally had been going to teach her, but then she got pregnant. “Actually, I don’t. Do you have anything easy to aim?”

  “You can always be sure of hitting the target if you shoot first and call whatever you hit the target.” Tuck snickered at his own joke.

  Carson broke into his security chief’s laughter. “Darlin’, the level of difficulty isn’t the issue. It’s the risk.”

  “Right.” Skye’s cheeks reddened. She knew it was reckless, demanding to be present when she was pregnant, but it wasn’t in her to just sit at home and wait for her husband to be rescued.

  “I’ve got some pepper spray that I can give you,” Tuck said as Carson turned the Hummer onto a dark dirt road. “But the best thing you can do is stay in the vehicle with the doors locked.”

  “Of course. You’re right.” Skye noticed that the only thing on either side of the road were cornfields and asked, “Where are you going to park?”

  “Alpha Leader indicated that there is an abandoned old barn across from the house,” Tuck answered. “We’ll have a clear view with maximum concealment. And because this Hummer has been fitted with bulletproof metal and glass, optimal safety for you.”

  “Yep.” Carson patted the dashboard. “When I ordered this baby, I made sure she could withstand any terrorist attacks or kidnapping attempts.”

  “Wow.” Skye hadn’t thought about it, but considering his wealth and visibility, Wally’s father would be a prime target for abduction and assassination. “I’m sure glad you brought it along.”

  “Slow down and shut off the headlights,” Tuck ordered, and when Carson complied, he instructed, “There. On your left. Back into the barn.”

  As Carson maneuvered the huge SUV into the ancient barn, Skye hoped there weren’t any nails lying around. Then again, she remembered that her father-in-law had mentioned the Hummer had run-flat tires.

  As soon as they were in place, Tuck swiped his phone and said, “We’re in position, Alpha Leader. Any movement on your end?”

  “Tangos now exiting the house.” A pause. “The final count is eight.”

  Skye leaned forward and could just make out several figures scurrying toward the machine shed. The halogen light attached to the building provided a spotlight for their actions. Either they had a generator or the electricity was on in this part of the city limits.

  “What’s the location of the remaining two bikers?” Tuck asked.

  “One’s in the kitchen,” Alpha Leader reported. “The other is upstairs.”

  “Roger that.” Tuck disconnected and immediately punched another number. “Beta Leader, do you have any activity at the drop site?”

  “Negative,” Quentin answered. “I’m in position with a view of the trash can and the rest of the team is set up around the perimeter.”

  “Maintain until you hear otherwise.” Tucker disconnected, grabbed a pair of binoculars, and gazed straight ahead. “Everybody chill.”

  It occurred to Skye that she had no idea how many men Tucker had brought from Texas. At first, she’d thought it was three or four, but now she revised her estimate upward to double that number. How on earth were they all planning to sleep in one of Charlie’s tiny cabins?

  When Carson lifted his own pair of binoculars to watch the activity across the road, Skye tapped Tuck’s shoulder and asked, “Do you have a pair of night vision binoculars I could use?”

  “There’s one next to you.” He nodded to her left. “That stuff is either backups or things we won’t be needing. Help yourself.”

  “Thanks.”

  Skye quickly located the binoculars, then started sifting through the piles of equipment strewn on the seat beside her. She found the pepper spray that Tuck had offered her, as well as several pairs of leather gloves, a whistle, eye protectors, earplugs, combination locks, a wrist compass, flashlights, batteries, nylon rope, fishing line, and one unrecognizable object.

  Tapping Tuck’s shoulder again, she held up a little black tube with an odd kind of clip fastened to it and asked, “What’s this?”

  “A laser sight.” The security chief’s tone was affectionate. “It emits a beam with a hundred-yard visibility in daylight and up to a mile at night. We use it for rapid target acquisition. I like this one because it has a tactical pressure pad. You just press here and it’s on. You can drive home shot after shot with hair-splitting accuracy.”

  After he showed her how to use it, Skye asked, “Don’t you need this for tonight’s mission?”

  “That’s a backup.” Tuck shrugged. “I have a couple more in my bag.”

  She nodded, tossed it back on the pile next to her, and focused her binoculars on the house across the road. Men were loading stuff from the machine shed onto the trailers and lights blazed in every window. Skye could almost feel Wally behind those walls.

  For the next hour, Skye, Carson, and Tuck stared at the Brooks property. At a few minutes to ten, Tuck’s cell pinged and he immediately swiped the screen.

  “Tangos are on the move,” alpha leader reported. “Heading toward their bikes.”

  “Taking my position on the barn roof.” Tuck quickly grabbed his sniper bag, and as he slipped out of the vehicle, he ordered, “You two stay put.”

  Carson snarled his frustration and Skye said, “I’m going to move into the front so I can see better.”

  “Only if you can climb between the seats,” Carson declared, hitting the door locks. “I don’t think you should get out of the Hummer.”

  “Fine,” Skye huffed, getting to her feet. “But you’re going to have to give me a hand.”

  Skye put one knee on the center console, then, wishing she had some body oil, she carefully shifted her belly through the opening. It was a tight fit, and just as she thought she had made it, her progress halted with half of her in the back and half in the front.

  “Help.” She held out her arm to Carson, who grasped her biceps and tugged.

  For a long minute, Skye thought she was permanently stuck, but with a pop, she broke free. Sliding into the passenger seat, she quickly reached back for the binoculars
. It hadn’t been a graceful transition and the babies were kicking up a fuss, but she could now see the front yard and house much better.

  Running a soothing hand over her stomach, she crooned to the twins. Carson reached over and ran a delicate finger over what was clearly a tiny foot outlined against Skye’s T-shirt.

  Skye lifted her gaze to the windshield and reported, “Seven guys are on their bikes, and two just climbed into the trucks. That only leaves one of the men inside.”

  Carson hastily raised his binoculars up to his eyes and both he and Skye watched as the motorcycles started with a roar, formed a line, and pulled out of the driveway. Six went east, with the trucks close behind them, and one lone bike headed west—the direction of the Hutton dairy farm.

  Skye’s heart sped up. This was their chance. Surely, Tuck’s men could take the single gang member remaining inside the house.

  Evidently, the team agreed with her evaluation, because a few seconds later, one of the security guys kicked in a window and tossed something through the broken glass. Instantly, there was a blinding flash and four men dressed completely in black broke down the front door.

  They rushed inside and Skye held her breath, waiting for the security team to come out with her husband. As she stared at the house, willing Wally to walk out safe and sound, she heard the roar of a motorcycle approaching. She hesitated, but it would be too much of a coincidence for the motorcycle not to be connected with the gang.

  “Dad,” Skye said. “Do you hear that? One of the bikers is coming back.”

  “Son of a—” Carson broke off. “Wait. The sound is fading.” He blew out a sigh of relief. “Whoever it was must have turned onto a side road.”

  Skye and Carson sat silently. Finally, four black-clothed figures emerged from the house’s gaping front entrance. One had a grip on the handcuffed wrists of a biker and two were supporting Wally as he limped down the steps.

  “Let me out,” Skye demanded, trying to open the Hummer’s door.

  “Just wait a second.” Carson frowned. “Tuck hasn’t given the all clear.”

  “I need to go to him,” Skye pleaded. “He looks hurt. He can hardly walk and he’s holding his stomach. Why in the hell are they stopping? They need to get him over here and call an ambulance.”

  “Let me go check.” Carson stared at Skye. “You have to give me your word that you’ll stay in the car and I’ll promise to bring Wally to you.”

  “Okay.” Skye figured it was faster than trying to argue. “But go now.”

  Skye watched her father-in-law jog across the road. A nanosecond later, she heard Tuck climb down from the barn’s roof. She saw him sprint over to the farmhouse and join the party huddled in the front yard.

  What was going on? Skye frowned and eyed the door handle. Carson hadn’t locked it when he left. She chewed her lip, then shook her head. A promise was a promise. She’d sit tight. At least for a few more minutes.

  Scanning the area, she noticed a shadow moving along one side of the house. Seizing the binoculars, she saw a huge figure stealthily approaching Wally, who was standing off by himself as Carson and the security team focused on the handcuffed biker.

  Skye’s chest tightened. Was she going to lose Wally after all?

  How could she let Tuck and his team know someone was sneaking up on Wally? If she tapped the horn, the bad guy might start shooting. And right now, she doubted any of them would answer their phones. What could she use to alert them? Too bad she didn’t have a way to signal them.

  Wait a minute! Awkwardly wedging herself up on one hip, she turned and pawed through the pile of discarded equipment on the backseat. Snatching the laser sight, she prayed she could recall Tuck’s instructions for its use. Easing the Hummer’s door open, she stood behind it and aimed the device around the edge. Once she had Tuck in her sights, she pushed the pressure pad.

  A green dot appeared on the security chief’s chest. When one of his men noticed and yelled for everyone to get down, Skye moved the dot toward the bad guy.

  Instantly, every weapon was trained on the biker standing beside the house. The bad guy pointed his gun at Wally’s back and everyone froze.

  “Throw down your weapon,” Tuck shouted. When the bad guy didn’t immediately obey, he added, “See that green dot on your chest? If you don’t surrender in the next three seconds, my sniper will take you out.”

  The biker wavered for an instant, then threw his gun on the ground, put his hands up, and dropped to his knees.

  Tucker followed the laser beam to where Skye stood and flashed her a thumbs-up. While the security team secured the second biker, Tuck and Carson guided Wally toward the Hummer.

  Skye met them in front of the vehicle, threw her arms around him, and asked, “Are you okay? Why are you limping?” She stroked his cheek. “Oh, your poor bruised face.”

  “I’m limping because I was tied up so long the circulation in my legs was cut off. The bruises will heal. And now that you’re in my arms, I’m fantastic.” Wally cradled Skye’s chin and kissed her as if he never meant to stop.

  Chapter 22

  “There is no place like home.”

  —Dorothy

  Skye sat in the back of the Hummer wrapped in Wally’s arms. Carson and Tuck were in the front seat and a part of her heard the security chief confirming that the guy sent to pick up the ransom at the dairy farm was in custody. But the majority of her attention was on her husband. She’d given him a quick rundown of what had happened since his capture and was now trying to convince him to go to the ER.

  Wally smoothed her hair out of her eyes. “Sugar, I’m truly fine, and I need to be at the police station when the bikers are processed.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. “That guy called Tin protected me and took care of me. I have to make sure none of my officers become overly zealous and that he’s treated okay.”

  “I understand.” Skye sniffed and caressed the scruff on his jaw. Wally was so rarely anything but clean-shaven, he almost looked like a completely different person. “But I’m worried about you.” She glanced at her father-in-law, who had turned in his seat and was gazing at his son as if he was the most precious person on earth. “What do you think, Dad?”

  “One of Tuck’s men was a combat medic in Iraq. If Wally agrees to go to the motor coach, grab a shower and some clean clothes, and let Crow look him over, I’ll go along with no ER right now.”

  “Agreed.” Wally squeezed his father’s shoulder and said, “I can never thank you enough for everything you’ve done to take care of Skye and rescue me. I’m so sorry for all the years we haven’t been close.”

  “That was more my fault than yours.” Carson covered Wally’s hand with both of his own. “And although I can’t promise to ever stop wishing you’d move back to Texas and take your rightful place at the helm of CB International, I can promise to stop bugging you about it.”

  “Maybe I’ll start bugging you to retire and move to Illinois.” Wally winked at his dad and turned to Skye. He lifted her chin and asked, “Are we good?” When she nodded, he looked at Tucker and said, “Can you call Sergeant Quirk and fill him in on the past few hours? Tell him to meet us at the station and expect three prisoners, all of whom should be held separately until we get there.” He paused, then added, “And no one is to touch them.”

  As they drove home, Skye couldn’t stop caressing Wally. It was hard to believe that it had been less than a day and a half since he’d gone missing.

  Heck! It was hard to believe it had been only two days since the tornado. So much had happened in such a short time, it felt as if a week or maybe a month had passed.

  When they returned to the motor coach, a man Skye hadn’t met was waiting. Tuck introduced the guy as Crow, and Wally went off to shower.

  Once he was out of earshot, Skye said to the three men waiting in the living room, “After the medic is finished t
reating Wally, I’m going to need a couple of minutes alone with my husband.”

  “We’ll catch a ride with Crow.” Carson gave her a look that implied he knew what she wanted to tell Wally in private. “And we’ll meet you at the police station.” He tossed her the Hummer’s keys.

  “We can use my uncle’s Pontiac.” Skye tried to return the fob to her father-in-law. “It might not look like much, but it runs fine.”

  “No need.” Carson grinned. “With both your vehicles totaled, I’m giving you the SUV.” When Skye started to protest, he shrugged. “I already found someone who has a brand-new one sitting in his garage that’s he’s willing to sell to me and I don’t need two.”

  Skye shrugged. If Wally objected to the gift, he could argue with his dad about the Hummer. She heard the shower shut off and went to lay out the clothes she’d bought for Wally after her ob-gyn appointment, thrilled he was finally here to wear them. They’d have to order him some new uniforms ASAP.

  In the meantime, she grabbed Wally’s duffel and dug out the uniform from the night of the tornado. Wally had changed into the spare he kept at the PD and that had been the one Charlie had laundered for them. She hadn’t even thought of giving him the one in the canvas bag.

  Digging it out now and grabbing the one he’d just taken off, she put both uniforms in a pile near the door to wash later. She usually had them dry-cleaned so they’d look crisper, but this was an emergency.

  While Skye was emptying Wally’s pants pockets, he came out of the bathroom. As if on cue, Crow entered the bedroom. He immediately instructed Wally to drop the towel and sit on the bed. Skye closed the door and joined her husband, watching carefully as the ex-medic examined him.

  She winced as Crow pressed on the contusions decorating Wally’s abs and chest, then blew out a relieved breath when the ex-medic declared the bruises superficial. Next, Crow inspected the raw gouges around Wally’s wrist. Frowning, he cleaned them with an alcohol pad, applied antiseptic cream, and wrapped them in gauze.