by Lori Ryan
“I remember the last night of every summer, she’d make us walk to TJ’s for a cone, and she’d get a double scoop. It would melt down her arm before she could even eat half of it, but she still tried every year.” Carrie tried to remember more details. She and Vicki didn’t see each other often during the winters, even though they’d both lived close to one another. Vicki spent the school years at a private boarding school. “I remember at Christmastime, when Vicki came home, she’d—”
“Shut up,” he said, quietly.
“—always want to make gingerbread cookies with my mom and me.”
“Shut up.” Louder this time.
“And the year you bought her the Barbie Power Wheels Corvette, she was so excited. Then we painted it orange with some old paint we found in the garage, and you were so mad.” It actually hadn’t been her and Vicki who did that. It was Vicki and Sam Connors, but Carrie didn’t care. She just wanted him to be thinking about his daughter and Carrie playing with his daughter.
“Shut up!”
“No.” Tears streamed down her face. “I ca-an’t shut up. I don’t want to die, and I don’t think you want to kill me. Vicki wouldn’t have wanted this. She would never have wanted this. You have to know that.”
Carrie had to believe he wasn’t capable of this. It was one thing to hire other people to kill or to dole out drugs that might hurt someone. But killing her himself was a different matter. She ignored the possibility that he might just call someone else in to do the job. He didn’t look like the William Tyvek she knew. He looked like he was unravelling. His hair was a mess where his hands had plowed furrows through it. Even his face looked crazed, like he was waging a battle behind it.
“Why are you doing this? What happened to make you do this?” She asked quietly as her tears continued to flow.
“He happened.”
“Warrick?” Her voice was quiet but she saw the flicker of anger in his eyes and he spun, shouting again.
“Yes! Warrick Staunton killed my Victoria. He whittled away at her bit-by-bit until there was nothing left of her.”
“I don’t understand. You think Warrick was responsible for the car accident?” Carrie flinched at the look on his face in reaction to her words. It was the wrong thing to say.
“He was responsible for it all. Do you know they couldn’t have kids? All Victoria wanted was a baby. She wanted lots of children. She said she wanted to fill up the house with kids.”
“I didn’t know they were trying to have children.” Carrie and Vicki hadn’t been overly close after junior high school. As adults, they saw each other at events and things, but they didn’t talk about things as intimate as fertility issues.
“When he couldn’t get her pregnant, she wanted to adopt. He said no. Can you imagine that?” William laughed. Carrie didn’t know how to respond, but she thought getting him talking was good. “So she started drinking and taking pills to forget the pain he was causing her.”
Carrie didn’t mention the drugs Victoria had used earlier in her life. It was common knowledge among their friends that Vicki had gone away to rehab. If Tyvek blamed that on Warrick, he really was crazy.
“I didn’t know.” It was all she could think to say.
Tyvek looked away. “She didn’t tell me either. She always said they weren’t ready for kids yet.”
“How did you find out?”
“Hmm?” He looked and she had the sense he’d forgotten where they were for a minute. He looked around the room, then back to her and nodded. “Oh, her journal. I found her journal.”
“From when she was younger?”
His face grew dark. “No. No, she wrote in a journal all her life. The doctor said it would be good for her after her mom died. She never stopped once she started. I found her journal at her house last year.”
Carrie noticed he didn’t call it Warrick’s house. He continued to pace and she scrambled to keep him talking. When they’d first arrived, he’d been looking around the room. He’d alternated between that and pacing as he talked to himself. She had no idea yet what he had planned or why he’d taken her.
“She talked about wanting kids in her journal?” She tried to get him back around to talking about Vicki.
Tyvek turned back to her and watched her for a minute, sorrow evident in his eyes. Then he nodded and turned away. He began to dig through the drawers of one of the long counters in the center of the space. “If they find you here, they won’t be able to write it off. They’ll have to go after Warrick.” He was no longer speaking to her. He seemed to be talking to himself as he pulled out containers. Toluene. Hexene. She didn’t know what they were, but she didn’t want to find out.
“William?” He didn’t look at her. Carrie’s heart seemed to jump to her throat and choke her as she saw him take a key from a drawer and unlock a large cabinet. He began to pour chemicals around the room. He read the labels, choosing several of the bottles, but she had no idea what the labels said. The fumes hit her nose and she wanted to cover her face, but her arms were locked to the chair. She tried to turn and bury her face in her shoulder, but it was no use. She was helpless.
Chapter 26
Neither one of the men spoke on the ride to the old lab. Warrick guessed at which building Tyvek might have used, based on equipment he would have needed to manufacture the drug, but that didn’t tell them which building Tyvek would take Carrie to. If he’d even taken her there.
Jarrod didn’t want to think about what might be happening to Carrie. Had Tyvek passed her off to one of his hired killers? If he’d given her to a man like Trace Jones, what would happen to her? Or was Tyvek holding her himself?
After finding out that Alan Sykes was a smoker, they theorized he was the one to grab Darla from the clinic, but he’d passed her off to Jones. Would Tyvek follow that pattern here? There were too many unknowns, and thinking about them all made Jarrod sick to his stomach.
If Carrie was hurt… She was the last person on earth who deserved to be hurt. His thoughts ran to the way he’d hurt her the day they’d slept together. The look on her face told him what kind of an ass he’d been. Not that he’d needed to be told.
Carrie did nothing but give to those around her. She cared so strongly for all the people who came to the shelter or to her clinic. They weren’t simply numbers or blank faces to her. They were people who deserved the compassion and concern she always seemed to have in spades.
If something happened to her, Jarrod didn’t know what he’d do.
“There.” He pointed to the turn-off and waited while Cal entered the gate code. Cal slowed the car and waited for the patrol cars behind them to do the same. They’d all turned their sirens off and now crept up the drive to the remote campus that housed the old Simms labs. Cal turned off toward the right, following the directions Warrick had given them. Jarrod saw the four patrol cars veer to the left. They’d check the main office building and the small out buildings. It wasn’t a great number of officers to be checking such a large space, but it had been the number of people they’d had on short notice. There hadn’t been time to wait for more.
“We’ll get her.” Cal didn’t glance at Jarrod as he spoke. He kept his eyes on the road in front of them.
Jarrod didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to process the emotions he was feeling. There hadn’t ever been a time when he’d felt such desperation. He needed to get Carrie out of this safely. Needed to tell her how he felt. That he didn’t give a shit about the consequences to his career. That they’d work through the differences in their upbringings and bank accounts. That he wanted her in his life.
His career didn’t matter. He could find something else to do if he lost his job over this. But he couldn’t find anyone to replace her. He couldn’t find someone who made him feel the way she made him feel. Couldn’t find someone with her heart, her strength.
Hang on, baby, he thought.
He raised his hand and pointed. Cal nodded, pulling up behind the dark grey sedan to block it in. The
men were silent as they exited the car, each moving with their hands on their service weapons to check the vehicle.
Nothing.
Cal reached into the driver’s side door while Jarrod positioned himself at the rear of the car. Waiting for that trunk to pop was the longest two seconds of his life. He slid his service weapon from its holster. He knew there was a chance he’d find Carrie in there. There was a damned good chance he’d find her body in there, that he’d been too late to save her. His heart slammed to a standstill in his chest, as if waiting for permission to start up again. The heaviness of the dread that weighed on him in that moment was like nothing he’d ever felt.
The click of the trunk release sounded and the trunk lifted a hair, letting him know it was open. With his left hand, he reached out and swung it up.
It was empty, save the jack resting in its solitary spot to one side.
Heart hammering back into gear, Jarrod tipped his head toward the building in front of them and Cal nodded in response. Warrick had thought this lab would be the building Tyvek would use to recreate the drug. It had all the equipment he would need, and it would have been a simple matter for Tyvek to bring the materials in, if he had the codes to the gate and buildings.
They approached the lab and entered, the smell of smoke hitting them instantly. Smoke.
Jarrod’s eyes burned as they moved down the hall. That wouldn’t happen so quickly from this amount of smoke. Chemicals. The knowledge hit him as hard as the effect on his throat and lungs. He needed to get to Carrie. Fast. “Call it in.”
Cal slowed to call in the fire while Jarrod continued down the hall, raising one arm to block the smoke from his mouth and nose. He wondered if labs like this were required to have sprinkler systems for fires, but guessed not since none kicked on.
He saw the smoke pouring from under a door further down the hall. He’d give anything to hear screaming. To hear something from Carrie. To know she was alive, that he still had a shot to get her out of there safely.
Chapter 27
“Ambulance and fire are rolling. Ten minutes out.” Cal stood next to Jarrod as Jarrod felt the knob of the room. Hot. Dammit. He needed in there. Needed to get to Carrie. “Our backup is heading back this way.”
Jarrod knew their backup patrol officers would get there quickly, but even that could take several minutes, depending on where they’d been in their building searches when Cal radioed. Several minutes in a fire was a big deal. A life and death deal. “Go outside and wave them down.”
Cal was no idiot. He knew Jarrod was trying to get him out of there so he could enter the room. Cal wasn’t having it. “You know we can’t ventilate.”
“Go outside, Cal.” Jarrod knew damned well they weren’t allowed to ventilate any fire. They couldn’t open a door or break a window. But there was no way he was going to sit there and wait for the fire fighters to get there when Carrie might be in that room.
“Not happening. If you cause backdraft, we can’t do Carrie any good frying on the floor.” The graphic image stopped Jarrod momentarily. He looked around. Could they go upstairs and ventilate from the room above? Ventilating from above a fire was safe, but the thought was a useless one. These floors would likely be concrete. No way he was going to be able to cut through that.
Was there any way Carrie could survive the smoke and chemicals in that room? He moved away from the door and around the corner of the hall seeking to take a few cleaner breaths. He swore when he saw smoke pouring from beneath another door at the end of that hall. What the hell?
“Cal! There’s another fire this way.”
“Shit.” Cal joined him, staring at the smoke. “Which room is she in?”
Both men’s attention went to a crash above them. They didn’t hesitate as they moved toward a stairwell and started up. When they got to the second floor, Cal peeled off and went out to check that level.
Jarrod continued up.
He moved out of the stairwell, crossing quickly to a spot that let him use the angle of the hallway to maximum effect. If someone came around one of the corners, he’d get a shot off quickly, even if they shot at him. He was somewhat of a sitting duck in an open hallway, but he knew criminals often shot down the side of the wall, assuming that’s where he’d be. He stayed in the center, his weapon trained on the space in front of him, scanning his surroundings as he moved.
He wasn’t surprised to see smoke billowing from a doorway at the end of the hall. This time, though, the smoke was even darker than it had been downstairs and the smell of chemicals hit his lungs and burned. He could hear noises.
He stepped into the cover of a side hallway and continued to scan the funneled space in front of him.
Chest tight, he approached the room, only the find this door open.
“Carrie!”
She was alive. He’d found her. Now he needed to get both of them out of here in the same condition.
“Jarrod.” Her throat was horse and sweat formed a fine sheen on her skin. She struggled to move the chair she’d been locked to. It wasn’t heavy, but it was awkward to move and she’d fallen over onto her side with the struggle.
Jarrod prayed for ropes he might cut but quickly saw she was chained in place. He moved to her side and put both hands on the side of her face. “I’ll get you out of here, baby. I’ll get you out.”
Tears ran down her face as she shook her head, and it was then he realized she hadn’t been trying to get out the door. She’d simply been trying to move toward air. There was no way to get her out the door. The chair itself was chained to one of the large islands that sat in the center of the lab. He couldn’t get her out of the chair and he couldn’t lift the chair and carry it out.
Chapter 28
“Shit.” Jarrod cursed and pulled off his shirt, scanning the room. As expected, there was a sink and an eyewash station in one corner. He ran to it and pushed the knobs, praying the water hadn’t been shut off.
The fire was isolated to one side of the room, but he could smell the chemicals used to start it. Smell, but not identify. Their noxious nature spoke to their danger, though. He didn’t need to be told inhaling the fumes could do damage. He could feel the burn in his own lungs, the sting in his nostrils as the chemicals invaded his body.
“You need to go,” Carrie said as he crossed back to her. He tied the wet shirt around her mouth and nose and shook his head.
“No way in hell I’m leaving you. Fire and EMTs are on their way. They’ll have bolt cutters.”
Bolt cutters.
“I’ll be right back, Carrie.” He looked her dead in the eye. “Right back.”
He ran out of the room and covered the twenty feet to the stairwell in record time, no longer caring if someone lay in wait there for him. “Cal!” He shouted as loud as he could down the stairwell, not waiting for an answer from his partner. “Bolt cutters! Grab the bolt cutters from the car.”
He heard an answering shout as he whipped around to move back to Carrie. He needed to find a fire extinguisher and keep those flames in check while he waited for rescue.
As he turned, a figure moved out of the stairwell on the opposite end of the hall. Jarrod’s hand went automatically to his sidearm, drawing the weapon. He kept his finger outside the trigger guard, but he was ready to use it if he had to.
William Tyvek looked like hell. He stared at Jarrod, frozen on the spot.
“Stay where you are, Tyvek. Let me see your hands.” Jarrod called out. His eyes cut to the doorway where Carrie lay. Dark smoke continued to pour out of the room. He was no firefighter, but he knew enough to know the dark smoke indicated the presence of chemicals in that fire. Shit. He needed to get Carrie out of there.
Tyvek’s gaze moved to the door, then back to Jarrod.
“Show me your hands and lay down on your stomach. Arms over your head, Tyvek.”
Tyvek didn’t comply. He tossed something toward Jarrod, sending it skidding on the floor toward him. For a split second, Jarrod thought it might be an ex
plosive. His body tensed as he listened for the sound of the object. Jarrod’s finger moved to the trigger, but he held his ground, hearing the sound of keys.
“Get Carrie out of here,” Tyvek called to him, his voice weary.
Jarrod looked to the door, then back to Tyvek again. “Stay where you are.” Hell, he couldn’t hold his weapon on Tyvek if he was going to save Carrie in time. Tyvek then turned and fled down the stairs and Jarrod let him go. He had no choice.
Jarrod dropped to his knees, scrambling with his hands over the surface of the floor.
His fingers closed on the keys and he shot into the room. Carrie was unconscious. The smoke swallowed them as he fumbled to try one key, then another in the lock of the chain holding the chair to the island. He’d free that one chain, then carry the chair out. It was the fastest way to get her out and he’d need speed if he was going to have any chance at saving them both.
Chapter 29
“Stand back!” Cal shouted the order as he came up behind Jarrod. Jarrod had managed to try three of the five keys, but Cal made swift work of the chain on her left leg with the bolt cutters. In the distance, Jarrod heard sirens. At least, he thought he did. Prayed he did.
He’d been talking to Carrie, trying to rouse her, but she’d succumbed to the smoke and fumes. As Cal freed the chair, Jarrod lifted the metal frame. He wanted to cradle her gently to his chest, but there was no time for that. The flames were growing at a startling pace and they needed to make it down the stairs and out into the fresh air to try to get some oxygen into her before too much damage was done.
God, he didn’t want to think about the damage the smoke and chemicals might be doing to her body, her brain, her lungs.
Their feet pounded on the concrete as they ate up the steps between the third floor and ground level of the building. Jarrod’s throat burned and he coughed, feeling jagged pain in his throat with each breath. The taste at the back of his throat was nauseating, but he couldn’t identify it. It was chemical, harsh and toxic.
