by L. T. Ryan
Hannah dropped the belts and a couple towels and headed to the corner of the room. Before Hanna started the faucet, Clarissa heard a car engine roar to life.
“Hurry with those towels,” she said.
The faucet cut off. Hannah brought the towels, then moved to the side and grabbed Erin’s hand.
“Any luck with those scissors?” Clarissa said.
“Found them,” Mia said.
“Hannah, go get those, then keep Mia behind me. Don’t let her look at her mom.”
“OK.”
Hannah retrieved the scissors, handed them to Clarissa.
Clarissa used the scissors to cut the leg of Erin’s pants around mid-thigh. She wiped blood away from around the wound. Then she grabbed an inch-wide belt, wrapped it around Erin’s leg, and cinched it tight. The blood flow slowed to a trickle.
“Wait here,” Clarissa said.
“Where are you going?” Hannah said.
Clarissa did not respond. She grabbed her handgun and left the kitchen. She passed Spiers’s body, stopped at the front door. She no longer heard the car’s engine. Either the man had left, or he had turned the vehicle off and now waited for her outside. He likely watched the front of the house, waiting for the opportunity to kill her.
Clarissa closed her eyes, brought her hand to her forehead. The warm barrel of the pistol almost singed the skin there. She took a deep breath, reached out and opened the door a crack. Cool air blew inside. The sweat that coated her exposed skin turned cold. She peered through the crack, but the angle prevented her from seeing the spot where the silver car had been. The one thing she could tell was that if the man remained outside, he wasn’t out in the open.
Clarissa took one more deep breath, then pulled the door open and crouched down. She eased her torso through the open doorway. The pistol moved with her eyes.
The car was gone. The man had left.
She fell back and rested against the door frame for a moment.
“We should go.”
Clarissa looked to her left and saw Hannah standing there. She nodded, said, “Grab the keys and pull the car around.”
Hannah did as told. Mia started after her, but Clarissa stopped her from leaving the house.
“Wait for the car.”
Clarissa then went to the kitchen. Along the way, she grabbed a chair with caster wheels. She lifted Erin, set her in the chair, wheeled her to the front door. The car appeared a moment later, and with Hannah’s help, she got Erin into the front seat. She ran back to the open doorway, took one last look at Spiers’s lifeless body. She made a promise to have someone return for him. Everybody had someone to go home to.
She jumped in the car and raced down the driveway, then turned toward town. The car screeched to a stop on the sidewalk in front of the store. It was the only place that Clarissa knew would have people inside. She bolted out of the car and jerked the door to the store open.
“Is there a doctor in this town?” she said.
“Yes, of course,” the old man said.
“Where?”
“Why?” the old woman said.
“Just tell me where he is?”
“She,” the old man said.
“OK. Where?”
“Right here,” the old woman said. “I practiced medicine for over forty years. Now, what’s wrong with you?”
Clarissa said nothing. She grabbed the old woman by her arm and pulled her through the store. Hannah had already opened Erin’s door. She scooted toward the rear of the car when she saw Clarissa and the old woman emerge from the store.
A small crowd had gathered. The old woman addressed some of them by name, asked them for help. Two men stepped forward. They pulled Erin from the car, interlocked their arms beneath her, and carried her inside.
In the back of the store, on a stainless steel table, the old woman inspected Erin’s leg.
“She’s very lucky,” the woman said.
Clarissa waited for her to continue.
“The bullet tore through her flesh, nicked the bone, but did no further damage. I’ll ease the tourniquet and clean and stitch this up. In a few days she should be OK to leave.”
“I don’t have a few days,” Clarissa said.
“Well, she can’t—”
“Fix her. Fast. We have to go.”
The old woman’s lips drew tight. She nodded and began to work. The old man brought back a bottle of pills and a flask of whiskey. The flask was chrome and had two tulips engraved on one side. Erin took two pills and three shots of whiskey with no protest.
The old woman finished in under half an hour. Erin emerged from the back room. She walked with the help of crutches.
“How are you feeling?” Clarissa said.
“Like I’ve been shot,” Erin said.
“I can relate.”
The old man went out front and ushered the small crowd away. He helped Clarissa and Hannah ease Erin into the front seat.
“Dear,” the old woman said from under the store’s awning.
Clarissa turned to face. “Yeah?”
“I had to call the police. It’s obvious a crime was committed.”
“What did you tell them?”
“You have a thirty minute head start.”
Clarissa shook her head, got inside the car. She eased the transmission into gear. They left the town, headed west toward the coast.
CHAPTER 39
Leon stared at his cell for a moment before setting it on the counter. The time indicator flashed forty-five seconds. The call felt like it had lasted an hour. He imagined the twisted feeling in his stomach would remain at least that long. His worst fear when he let the women leave had been realized. They’d been attacked and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
“Dottie,” he called out.
She appeared a moment later, her full length robe wrapped tight around her. It trailed along the ground behind her as she walked. “What is it?”
Leon lifted his gaze from the floor. “Someone found them.”
Dottie reached for the counter to steady herself. “How? Where?”
“Outside of Brussels. Don’t know how. Two men, English, killed the bodyguard Jack had arranged to protect them.”
“Are they OK?”
“Erin got shot in the leg.”
“Oh my God.”
“The wound isn’t serious, Dottie. She’s already seen a doctor.”
“Where are they now? Do those men have them?”
Leon shook his head. “Fortunately, there was a woman traveling with the bodyguard. She had been out when the break-in occurred. She returned, killed one man, the other got away.”
Dottie released her grip around the counter, sat down. “What do we know about these people?”
“The attackers? Nothing.”
“No, the ones who were tasked with keeping my nieces and Hannah safe.”
“Nothing at all. That’s why I didn’t want to do it this way.”
Dottie said nothing. She stared blankly at the wall.
“I think it’s time we called Jack to find out more.”
“Where are they now?”
“I told them to head to Ostend.”
“The ferry?”
“Yes, to Ramsgate.”
“Do you think that’s safe?”
“Safer than the airport.”
Dottie nodded. “Who will meet them there?”
“I will.”
“You can’t leave me here. If someone found them, they can find us.”
Leon turned his head, stared out the window, scanned the front of the property. “Then you’ll need to come with me.”
“OK. When do we need to leave?”
“It’ll take two hours for us to get there. They’ll arrive in six. We should leave no later than three hours from now.”
“Are you sure they aren’t being followed?”
“I’m not sure of anything right now, Dottie.”
Neither spoke for a few minutes. Dottie rose, pour
ed a cup of coffee for herself, refilled Leon’s mug.
“They should have been with us,” he said.
“Those men might have come to us,” she said.
“And I could have dealt with them.”
“The same way Jack’s man did?”
Leon said nothing.
“I have no doubt that the man Jack reached out to was as capable as you, if not more so. And he knew someone was coming. He had to have known.”
“I fear that Jack had some involvement in this, Dottie.”
“Never. I’ve known him for ten years. Jack Noble is the most loyal man I’ve ever worked with.”
Leon looked away. “Then you should hire him to be your bodyguard.”
Dottie reached for his arm. He pulled away at her touch. “I didn’t mean it like that, Leon. I trust you, and only you, with my life.”
Leon left the kitchen. He exited through the back door. The small cottage had been in his family for over two hundred years. Situated on England’s southern coast, it offered him a place to get away from the stress that came with his line of work. He hadn’t used the house in five years, though. Not since the day he started working for Dottie. He’d heard people complain about working a full time job. They had no idea what it meant to be committed to their work.
He walked to the edge of the beach. The wind whipped past and sent tiny particles of sand and sea spray toward him.
Dottie’s words had been hurtful, but that wasn’t what he focused on. He thought only of Erin. From the moment he’d first laid eyes on her, he’d loved her. It took close to six months for him to get her to speak to him. And as Mia grew, he befriended the child. The relationship with her gained him further access to Erin. He was sure any day now their friendship would blossom into a romance. Her smiles lasted longer, as did the glances they shared.
Of course, the arrival of Jack Noble had thrown a wrench into his plans. He’d heard the rumors, confirmed them the moment he laid eyes on Jack. No denying the child’s eyes were his.
And now that bastard had placed Erin in danger. Wounded. She could have died. Leon cursed himself for allowing the women to leave his protection. No man would have harmed Erin had he been around.
“Leon,” Dottie’s voice struggled to find him through the wind.
He pretended not to hear her, walked onto the packed sand where foam danced along the beach ahead of the waves.
“Leon,” she said again.
He looked over his shoulder. She stood ten meters away.
“What?” he said.
“I’m sorry.”
He said nothing.
“I know…” She paused, looked up at the sky, then walked toward him. “I know of your feelings for Erin.”
He forced a confused expression. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know you better than you know yourself,” she said. “You’ve loved her for a long time.”
Leon looked away. His gaze scanned the sea, lifted to the hazy gray horizon.
“I’m worried for her too, Leon. We can’t do anything until she’s on shore, though. So you have to put it behind you. We don’t know if we’re next.”
Leon nodded. In an instant, his mind shifted and focused. “OK.” He turned and walked past Dottie, toward the house. “We should probably leave now.”
They made their way inside. Dottie showered and dressed. He fixed breakfast and placed the food in plastic containers so they could bring it with them. When Dottie returned, they tossed their bags in the car and left the cottage, headed east toward Ramsgate.
CHAPTER 40
The thin drapes did little to block the early morning sun. Jack woke up and glanced at his phone. He performed time zone calculations in his head. Six-thirty a.m. He’d managed to sleep an hour longer than he expected. According to his running tally, that still left him a year behind on the recommended eight hours a night.
He rolled out of bed and headed to the bathroom. The mildew covered shower did not appeal to him. He figured he’d end up dirtier if he used it. So he splashed some water on his face, then left his room.
The same woman sat behind the counter in the lobby. He walked toward her, cleared his throat about ten feet away. She didn’t look up.
“Can you call me a cab?”
She didn’t reply.
He looked between her and the phone that remained a foot to the left of her.
“Can I use the phone?”
Again, no reply.
“Just wait till I leave you a Google review, lady.”
Jack left the hotel. The area looked dodgier in the daylight. Homeless hung out in the front stoops of the buildings. A man dealt drugs on a nearby corner. A group of younger men stood on the other side of the street. They chased away the men that passed, made obscene gestures at women.
Jack looked up and down the street. He wasn’t sure which way to go, but he knew he couldn’t linger for long. Stares fell upon him. A couple of bums headed toward him. He noticed that he’d caught the attention of at least one of the men across the street. It all added up to an impending confrontation. And that was something Jack needed to avoid.
So he began walking. He headed away from the approaching bums, and held eye contact with the guy across the road long enough to let the man know Jack would not be an easy target.
Another block further, Jack spotted a bus stop. A few people waited on a bench. He looked back. The group of men walked in the same direction, at roughly the same pace. They remained on the other side of the street. Their loud talk and exaggerated actions told Jack all he needed to know. They preyed as a pack. Individually, they were nothing. But together they might be trouble.
He had a choice to make. Wait for the bus and risk a confrontation with the guys, or keep on walking.
He stopped at the bus stop. “How long until the bus arrives?”
“About five minutes or so,” an elderly lady said. She patted her white curls into place and smiled.
Jack nodded. He looked back toward the group. They’d stopped, too. He decided as long as they stayed in place, he’d wait for the bus. Another minute later, the men turned and walked away. It had been nothing, after all. At that moment, he appreciated the extra hour of sleep. He knew he’d need it today.
The red bus pulled up a couple minutes later. Jack waited for the other passengers to board. He stepped onto the first step of the platform, said, “I’m trying to get to the tourist area.”
“This bus don’t go there,” the driver said.
“Are you going somewhere that will allow me to get there?”
“Might take you all day.”
Jack figured he was maybe ten miles from the center of the city. He could walk there in three hours, so the thought of public transportation taking all day didn’t ring true.
“Any other suggestions?” he said.
“Get on, son. I stop by the underground a few miles down the road.”
Jack nodded, stepped up and took a seat behind the driver. He used the rear view mirror to study the passengers. Everyone on board looked like they were low-wage working class or poorer. Half were elderly. Probably not as old as they looked. Aged prematurely by a life that kicked them to the ground and put a knee in their lower back, refusing to let them up.
The bus rolled to a stop and the driver pointed to the underground entrance. Jack tucked a ten pound note in his palm and shook the driver’s hand. If the man appreciated the gesture, he failed to let Jack know.
Jack hopped from the bus to the sidewalk. The area teemed with activity. A mix of people. In that short two miles he’d gone from the ghetto to that in between zone where classes mix. He stopped in front of a map and determined the series of trains he needed to catch in order to reach the city center. He had to switch trains once. The straight forward route allowed Jack to use the time to clear his head.
Forty-five minutes later, he emerged two blocks from the site of the bombing.
The hotel he’d had reservations at no
longer rose into the sky. It lay in shambles, its guts spilled out into the street. A smoky haze lingered. A smell he’d only experienced one time in his life enveloped him.
Yellow police tape cordoned off the area. Onlookers were kept a block away on all sides. Tape would not keep Jack from entering, though. The bomb had been intended for him, after all. He had to investigate the scene. Perhaps the attackers had left something behind that only he’d recognize.
It wouldn’t be easy getting closer, though. Several police officers guarded the scene. They were positioned every fifty feet or so along the road, behind the barrier of yellow tape. Jack walked the perimeter but could not locate a spot to slip through.
And the help arrived in the most unusual form.
A group of reporters and cameramen rushed past him. They spoke excitedly through ragged breath. Jack looked toward the end of the road. He saw a gray Rolls Royce pull up and stop in front of the police tape. Several officers abandoned their posts and went to the Rolls. They formed a barrier between the vehicle and the throng of reporters. Voices rose. Cameras flashed. Cops shouted. A horn blared.
Jack walked another twenty feet, stopped, scanned the area. Security from that point on had been abandoned. They’d all rushed to the aide of the Rolls. Jack crouched and slipped underneath the tape. He glanced around, saw that he’d gone unnoticed. He made his way behind the row of buildings that led to the crumbled hotel. The empty alley provided him with a clear path. He didn’t rush. Instead, he chose to act like he belonged there.
And in his mind, he did.
He faced his first test as he neared the restaurant where he initially encountered Leon. Forensic techs were working behind the building. He spotted a woman collecting shell casings. The woman looked up at Jack. She studied him for a moment. He prepared himself for her to question him, or worse, alert others to his presence. He was armed and roamed a crime scene unchaperoned. At the least, he’d spend half a day in a police station if caught.
He nodded at the woman. She nodded back and returned to her job. Jack watched as she placed numbered cards on the ground to mark the spots where she’d found evidence.
