No Escape

by Meredith Fletcher

  She grimaced impatiently. “The kind of trouble we’re in, and you think this is funny?”

  “It kind of is, yeah. You’re the one with the big idea of talking to this guy, now you just want to give him back. For all you know, this guy helps Gibson kill his victims.”

  That hurt. For a moment Lauren had a brief vision of Megan struggling against her captors in the water. Heath was right. Even if the man hadn’t helped Gibson, there was little doubt that the man knew what kind of monster he had for an employer.

  “Sorry.” Heath shook his head. “My partner thinks I’ve got a twisted sense of humor. At the wrong times. Janet used to say the same thing.” He took the smartphone from the Baggie and started it up.

  The view screen lit up, standing out brightly in the dark alley. Several small eyes in the garbage reflected the illumination. Lauren tried not to think about that.

  “The phone’s pass-code protected.” Heath growled and started to drop the phone back into the Baggie. “I’ll have to keep it and see if I can get someone to scrape the information off the SIM card.”

  “Do you think you’re going to find anything on that card?”

  “Don’t know till I try.”

  “I can’t see this man leaving pictures of previous murders on his phone.” A chill chased through Lauren. “Or even taking pictures of something like that.”

  “Men like Gibson, men like these mercenaries, they’re not wired like your average person, Lauren. That’s something you need to know about them.” Heath frowned at her. “Especially if you’re going to continue to play in their sandbox.”

  “I’m not playing in their sandbox. I’m trying to find out who killed my sister.”

  “I know.” Heath regarded her levelly. “Something else you should know—I’ll do anything it takes to find the man who killed Janet and those other women. And I won’t let anyone stand in the way.”

  The wind slipping through the alley seemed to drop a few degrees as she looked at him. She knew that he meant it. If she hadn’t been convinced that Gibson had killed Megan, she would have been worried that Heath might let his pain and loss blind him to the point that he would persecute an innocent man. But she was convinced of Gibson’s guilt, as well.

  The unconscious man inside the van rolled slightly, moaned and turned his head.

  Heath put a finger to his lips, then turned his full attention to the prisoner. He knotted a fist in the man’s shirt and jerked him up to a sitting position in the open van door.

  “Sisco, do you hear me?” Heath’s voice was calm and flat, barely loud enough to carry.

  “Is that you, cop? You got that redneck accent I can hear. You better kill me, ’cause when I get loose, I’m gonna kill you.” Sisco leaned forward and spat at Heath.

  Heath easily dodged, then yanked the man hard to one side, banging his head against the door frame.

  The man cursed and started squirming in pain, and Lauren felt even more scared when she realized the man knew who Heath was.

  Heath waited till the man’s cries subsided. His voice remained level when he spoke. “Nobody said you were getting out of this alive, Sisco. If you don’t answer my questions, I’m going to put a bullet in your head and drop you out in the ocean. The crabs and the gulls can finish off what’s left of you.”

  Lauren knew that Heath wouldn’t do that; at least, she trusted him not to do that, but the threat made everything worse.

  “Roylston will know you grabbed me, and he’ll figure I told you everything I know. He’ll kill me if you don’t.”

  Lauren thought she was going to be sick. She hadn’t thought about that possibility at all.

  “Then you’ve got nothing to lose by telling me what you know.”

  Sisco shook his head. “Man, you grabbed the wrong guy. You wanted the whole story, you shoulda grabbed Roylston. All I know is that Gibson likes killing women.”

  “And you just let him? Is that what you’re saying? You just let him kill those women?” The words were out of Lauren’s mouth before she knew she was going to speak.

  Sisco sniffed. “I know that perfume. You’re the woman who’s so free with everybody else’s wallets.” He shook his head and winced. “I gotta say, that was pretty slick the way you set me up. Never saw it coming. Did you put her up to that, cop?”

  “Tell me about Gibson.”

  “What’s to tell?”

  “Why does he kill the women?”

  Sisco shrugged. “Guy’s sick. Twisted. If you’ve been in the military, you’ve seen guys like him. Probably seen them in Atlanta, too.”

  Lauren couldn’t help herself. “Why are you working for him?”

  “Money’s good, and Gibson doesn’t kill as many people as other employers I’ve had. You ask me, this is one of the easier assignments I’ve had. Roylston makes this operation run like goose grease on ice. Keeps us all tight and right.”

  At the end of the alley, a car rushed by, then brakes squealed and white reverse lights flared to life. An engine roared as the car pulled back to the alley, then changed directions and raced down it.

  Smiling, Sisco looked in Heath’s direction. “That’ll be Roylston. He keeps tabs on everybody. Hope he doesn’t kill you too quick.”

  Instinctively, Lauren ducked down, and it was just ahead of a fusillade of bullets that struck the rear of the van. Broken glass tumbled from the windows. A man hung out the window of the approaching car and fired repeatedly.

  It took her a moment, but she thought she recognized the bodyguard who had been sitting with Gibson at the restaurant a couple of days ago. The muzzle flashes highlighted his face for a moment before she ducked below the door and lost sight of him.

  The bullets ricocheted off the van and the building walls. At least one of them crashed through Sisco’s head in a spray of blood, and he fell back inside the van.

  Warm wetness splashed against the side of Lauren’s face. She reached up and wiped at it. Her fingers came away stained with crimson, and she almost screamed.

  Heath pulled Lauren’s upper arm, getting her into motion and keeping her low. He pushed her to keep her moving. “Keep going. Get to the end of the alley. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Frightened, Lauren did as she was told because she couldn’t think of anything else to do. Bullets whined off the wall overhead and crashed through the trash cans.

  Then heavier cracks punctuated the automatic fire. Lauren glanced back over her shoulder and saw Heath firing from behind the open driver’s door. In the next instant, he turned and charged toward her, easily overtaking her and grabbing her by the arm again.

  “C’mon!”

  Lauren ran, somehow matching him stride for stride till they reached the end of the alley. Heath paused at the corner with his back against the wall. Without looking, he opened the revolver and shook the hot brass into his hand, dropping it into his jacket pocket and bringing out new shells, inserting them into the cylinder, then snapping the cylinder closed again.

  Peering around his shoulder, Lauren saw the other vehicle had stopped in front of the van, unable to proceed any farther. At least two men climbed out of the car because their weapons flickered lightning on both sides of the alley. Neither of them appeared to be in any hurry to pursue Heath and Lauren.

  Heath whirled around and looked at the street as a taxi came up it. He grabbed Lauren’s hand and pulled her out into the street, waving to cut the taxi off. She assumed the driver didn’t see the gun in Heath’s hand, because the vehicle came to a stop beside them.

  Opening the door, Heath pushed her inside. Instinct took over, and she climbed in willingly. Heath dropped into the seat beside her and addressed the driver, giving him the name of a club downtown.

  Lauren turned to him as the taxi pulled away from the curb and the two shadows halted at the alley mouth. “Where are we going? We need to go to the police!” That caught the taxi driver’s attention, and he glanced up at the rearview mirror. “We can’t just—”

  Heath l
eaned in and kissed her, taking her breath away and shorting out her senses. She wanted to push him off her, might have even tried, but he twisted in the seat and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. The immediate panic passed, and she gave herself over to the kiss, losing herself in it. A fire ignited in her belly, and she knew it had been there for the past couple days. Fear swirled into hunger, and she lifted her hand and cupped the back of his head, pulling him in close because having him there made her feel alive, and she knew she’d come close to not being alive.

  He opened his mouth, demanded access to her, and she gave it willingly, surprised at the appetite that threatened to consume her in a rush. He tasted sweet and strong and masculine, and he growled as his own need flowered within him, too.

  His hand drifted down her body, pulling her closer, drifting farther down till he cupped her hip and held on tight. She put her other hand on his jaw, feeling the rough, sandpapery stubble that covered his chin. For the moment, all that mattered was having him close, but that was triggering a greater need in her she didn’t want to address.

  Out of air, needing to breathe, Lauren pulled back from Heath. After a quick breath, he came after her again, but she noticed that the taxi driver was paying more attention to the rearview mirror than to the street. The shadows must have hidden the blood on her face.

  “No.” Lauren slid a hand over his mouth and blocked his attempts to kiss her again. “No.”

  Reluctantly, Heath pulled back against the seat as if it took all his strength to do that. “Okay.” Lights from passing streetlamps and businesses that were still open flashed in his gold eyes and caught on the green flakes. “Maybe we can talk about the other thing later.”

  Not trusting herself to speak, Lauren nodded.

  Once they arrived at the club Heath had suggested, he paid the driver and took Lauren’s hand. They walked three blocks through the downtown party area and stayed in the shadows. Heath kept checking behind them, but he didn’t act as if anyone was following them.

  At the corner, he flagged down another taxi and told the driver to take them back to the jail.

  Chapter 12

  Surprisingly, there was no real activity at the jail building. Lauren had expected a gathering of police cars, emergency vehicles and fire trucks as there were in movies and television shows. Instead, only a spray of broken glass marked the area where she’d driven the van into the car.

  Heath caught her looking around and squeezed her hand. “The police won’t be here. They’ll be working the murder in the alley.”

  “The murder.” Lauren repeated the words and still had trouble wrapping her mind around it.

  “Yeah. Those guys murdered Sisco. They were there to take out everyone.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense.”

  “They were trying to kill us. Sisco was just collateral damage. We got lucky.”

  It wasn’t just luck. Heath had gotten them moving quickly, too.

  “What are you driving?”

  Mechanically, functioning on fumes of adrenaline now, Lauren pointed out the compact rental she’d arranged.

  Still holding on to her arm as if they were out for a night on the town, Heath walked them over to the vehicle. “Let me have your keys.”

  Lauren thought briefly of arguing with him, of telling him she was capable of driving, then she decided it wasn’t worth the effort. She handed the keys over. Heath opened the passenger door and put her inside, then slid behind the wheel, and they were off.

  * * *

  At the hotel where Lauren was staying, Heath pulled the car into the outside parking lot, then got out with her and led the way toward the building. The hotel was set back from the main streets, and darkness surrounded them. On previous nights, the darkness hadn’t bothered Lauren, but now it felt almost threatening as she crossed the short expanse of pavement to the side entrance.

  She was walking better, more focused. “I can make it to my room.”

  “I can walk you.” Heath was distracted, looking all around them.

  No one was in the mezzanine when they entered the hotel. Lauren’s stomach clenched as they crossed the open area, expecting to be apprehended at any moment. She felt almost relieved when they stepped into the elevator.

  Heath’s hand hesitated over the buttons. “What floor?”

  “Five.” Lauren glanced at her reflection in the stainless-steel panels that covered the doors. She had something on her face. Her skin felt tight. Automatically, she reached up to brush at her cheek.

  Heath caught her hand and trapped it gently. “Don’t.”

  She looked at him, swallowed hard, and tried not to freak out when she realized what the dark splotches were. “I’ve got his blood on my face.”

  “Not for long.”

  That wasn’t any kind of answer. Lauren wanted it off. Now. She clenched her fist and willed herself not to touch her face, but she couldn’t help glancing down and seeing more blood spattered over the black pullover she was wearing.

  “Just stay calm. We’re almost there.”

  She made herself nod, but her breathing was strained.

  “Where’s your room key?”

  Grateful for something else to think about, something else to do, Lauren slipped the key card to her room from the back pocket of her jeans. She handed it to Heath and let him guide her to one side of the door.

  “I need you to stay back just a minute.” He had his pistol in hand, covered by the loose folds of his jacket, when he slipped the key card through the slot. When the light flashed green, he pulled the lever down with his left hand and leaned a shoulder into the door. He relaxed a little and turned to her. “Okay.” He stepped to the side so she could enter. “Does anything look moved? Touched in any way?”

  Lauren entered the room and looked around. Her suitcases were in the closet, her iPad on the desk on the charger, and her clothing was hung as she’d left it. “No. Everything’s fine.”

  “Good. I don’t think they know about you, but I didn’t think they’d have a tracker on Sisco, either. I don’t want to be surprised again tonight.” Heath slid the pistol back into the holster on his hip.

  Pausing in front of the mirror at the vanity, Lauren looked at herself, shocked at the blood that marred the side of her face, her neck and her hair. She didn’t know how the taxi drivers had missed seeing that. Then she thought maybe the man hadn’t and that the Kingston constables were already en route.

  She grabbed a handful of tissues from the box in the vanity and started scrubbing at the blood on her cheek, but it wouldn’t come off because it was dried. She started to shake then, and she scrubbed even harder.

  “Hey.” Heath stood behind her. “Calm down.”

  “Calm down?” She glared at him in the mirror, unable to stop scrubbing. “I’ve got someone’s blood on me. It’s in my hair.”

  “It’ll wash out.” Gently, Heath took her hands and kept her from scrubbing. “Take a shower. Everything’s going to be all right.”

  She looked at him, wishing she could believe him, but he had blood on his face, too. Both of them had been so close to dying. She closed her eyes and saw the man getting shot again, his head snapping back, feeling the warm wetness on her face.

  “Get some clothes. Take a shower. You’ll feel better.”

  Lauren just looked at him, not believing that he thought a shower was going to fix everything. When she didn’t move, he went to the chest of drawers and began searching through them.

  Watching him paw through her underwear broke her out of her trance. “What are you doing?”

  “You need clothing.”

  “Stay out of there.”

  Heath ignored her, emerging with a pair of panties, sweat pants and an oversized T-shirt, all things that she liked to lounge in and sleep in. He handed them to her. “Here.”

  Not knowing what else to do, Lauren took the proffered clothing.

  “Shower.” Heath gave her a gentle shove to get her moving.

 
; “Aren’t you leaving?”

  Heath looked at her and spoke softly. “No. I’m not leaving. I’m going to be right here.”

  For a moment, Lauren remembered the kisses in the taxi. Her body still thrummed with excitement, but it was mixed in with the residual aftereffects of the near-miss in the alley. She felt confused, not certain what Heath’s motives were.

  He turned from her, though, and walked to the window. He stripped his jacket off and dropped it onto the chair by the small table, then moved a chair so he could more easily peer out the window as well as watch the news on the television he angled his way.

  Not knowing what else to do, lost amid all the conflicting emotions, Lauren retreated to the bathroom. She took off her clothing with shaking hands, feeling terribly cold all of a sudden. Then she stepped under the shower spray and turned it up as hot as she could bear. For a long time, she just stood there and let the wet heat seep into her. She turned her face up to the spray and let it run through her hair, not looking down to see if the blood was sluicing from her body.

  With her eyes shut against the shower, she kept seeing the gunfire again and again, but mixed in there, she kept feeling Heath’s lips pressed against hers.

  * * *

  “Heath?” Jackson Portman sounded tense. “Buddy, I was about to give up on you getting back to me.”

  “Told you I’d call.” Heath sat in the chair looking through the window out at the parking lot. Nothing was moving. The street out in front of the hotel only had occasional traffic.

  “Get anything?”

  “Gibson is our guy. The man we took down tonight—Sisco—confirmed that Gibson is killing the women.”

  “Wait a minute. We?”

  “Yeah. Lauren worked herself into the snatch. Saved my butt, actually, but everything went sideways on us.” As Heath relayed the story, he couldn’t help thinking about Lauren in the shower. The water ran steadily, and he knew it was tracing every curve. He kept thinking about the kisses in the taxi, as well. He’d kissed her to shut her down, to keep her from speaking. At least, that was what it had started out being. At the end there, he wasn’t sure what that was about, but she had seemed to be getting into it.