Edge of the Heat 5

by Lisa Ladew

  Jerry nodded, fear nibbling at his insides. Still love her? Some crazy part of his brain gibbered.

  Sara bent over his arm, close enough that he could smell her sweet, feminine smell.

  Biggest cluster fuck of my life, he had time to think before he felt the prick of the needle in his arm.

  Chapter 18

  Sara hesitated for a moment before pushing the needle into his vein. She knew that once she did, any slim chance she had once had for a real, healthy relationship with him would dissolve like a pile of sugar in a heavy rain. And oh did she want to hold onto that slim chance. Her heart ached with it. But she knew it wasn’t possible, drug or no drug. So she pushed aside her want and pricked his arm, carefully depressing the plunger on the syringe. She watched the liquid transfer from the syringe to his body and felt what slim humanity she’d managed to gain in the last year slip away with it. Now she was nothing but a soldier again. A dishonored soldier without a general.

  Sara wondered when she’d become dismally poetic. She pushed away the thoughts and stepped back to watch the drug take effect. Jerry’s face, stamped partly with fear and partly with dismay, softened. His muscles gradually relaxed. His eyes closed and he took a deep breath, and Sara knew he was ready.

  “Jerry.”

  “Mmmm?” Eyes still closed.

  “Jerry, listen to my voice. It will calm you, soothe you, make you feel sleepy and relaxed. I have some questions to ask you and it’s very important that you tell me the first answer that comes into your mind. When you answer the questions that way you don’t have to worry or stress about them. When you answer with the truthful answer that first comes into your mind you can feel good and know that everything is going to be OK. Do you understand?”

  Jerry smiled. Sara ordinarily loved his joking, easy manner, but just before now it had been bothering her. It made it hard for her to read him. He’d smiled like this several times before she got the drug in him and it just made her think he was hiding something even more. Now though, she knew it was just the drug and how it had turned off the parts of his brain that made him worry or think about his actions.

  He slowly opened his mouth and said “I understand,” the smile still on his face.

  “Who do you work for?”

  “Westwood Harbor Fire Department.”

  “Who else do you work for?”

  “No one.”

  “Who is your boss?”

  “Captain Horace Burns.” Jerry laughed. “We tease him about that, don’t we? Tell him he starts every fire we have to put out.”

  Sara smiled in spite of herself.

  “Who have you killed?”

  Jerry laughed again. “I’ve never killed anyone.”

  “Who have you stabbed?”

  “Nobody.”

  “Who have you shot?”

  Jerry giggled madly, almost girlishly. “You know this. Norman Foster. He deserved it though. He tried to kill Emma. I would shoot him again if I had to.”

  “What do you do for the DCIA?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Do you know what the DCIA is?”

  “No.” Jerry laughed again. Sara could see the flexi-cuffs biting into his relaxed wrists. She grimaced and wondered if she should loosen them. No way to loosen flexi-cuffs though. Maybe she should just cut them off of him. Her questioning was revealing that he was just what he said he was. A fireman, that’s it.

  Just a few more questions, Miss-All-Business whispered.

  “Are you a spy?”

  “No. I’m a Firefighter and a Paramedic.”

  “Are you an agent?”

  Jerry laughed again. “Like an insurance agent?”

  Sara smiled. She marked that one in the ‘no’ pile.

  “Why did you follow me?”

  “I thought you needed help. I’ve been looking for you for days.”

  “How did you find me in Las Vegas?”

  Jerry’s brows drew together even while his mouth grinned. “Find you? I didn’t find you. You found me.”

  Sara leaned forward. “Wait, you mean you didn’t know I was here in Vegas?”

  “No.”

  “Why did you come to Las Vegas?”

  “I didn’t want to get arrested. Besides, I was coming here on vacation in two weeks anyway. I took an early vacation so I didn’t have to take a concrete vacation.” Jerry laughed wildly at this. Sara barely noticed. Her mind forced her back to a day about 2 months ago, at her gym. She was working on Jerry, massaging his leg around the scar tissue, and he was telling her that it was almost time for him to return to work, but that he was going to take a short vacation to Las Vegas first. Fast forward to that night when she decided to abandon her Sara Acosta personality and her life in Westwood Harbor. She could have gone to Vegas, New York, Miami, Chicago, or a couple of places in Canada. But she picked Vegas. She didn’t even consider another location.

  Sara put her head in her hands in an uncharacteristic moment of doubt and self-flagellation. Had she been … what? Hoping he would find her? That was stupid, Miss-All-Business piped up. You’ve never been stupid before. You need to grab your stuff and get out of town, quick before your stupidness catches up with you.

  Sara focused on Jerry. She reached down to pull a knife out of her boot to cut him loose with, and that’s when the whole world exploded. She had time to think shredder gun, and then she was swarmed.

  ***

  Jerry waited for the next question. This was fun. This was awesome. He felt happy, and like he and Sara were getting along great. She was asking questions, he was answering them. She even smiled once. He felt on top of the moon. Pretty soon she was going to let him out of these cuffs and then maybe they could really talk. Or go gamble. Or kiss. His mind seized on that last one. She’d let him kiss her now, he just knew it.

  He watched her put her head down and press her hands to her cheeks. She looked sad. He was just about to tell her everything was going to be OK, when a loud boom shook the room, the bed, the building. Jerry looked up, interested. What was going on? Did Sara know this was going to happen? He smiled as people swarmed into the room. They were yelling, but Jerry couldn’t tell what was being said. His ears were ringing too loudly.

  The first man he saw was wearing SWAT gear. He trained a large, mean-looking shotgun at Sara. His lips pulled back in a grimace and his teeth flashed as he yelled. Jerry could barely make it out. “Put your hands up! Put your hands up!”

  Jerry’s hearing returned in a whoosh and he realized they were yelling “Police!” Sara was crouching on the ground, but as the man with the mean-looking shotgun got close to her she propelled herself forward, under his gun. Jerry saw it driven upwards into the man’s helmeted face by the force of her shoulder. Jerry’s mouth dropped open in an O of surprise.

  Sara screamed, a loud aiaiai sound. She tucked in her head and pushed the man backwards with all her might towards the door, and she was actually moving him! Jerry fought to swim up from under the influence of the drug. Sara was battling with the police in front of him!

  Sara had something in her hand. It was a gun, but not his gun. It was smaller, much smaller. She pointed it around the man she was pushing and pulled the trigger. The small retort still seemed loud in the little room. Had Sara just shot a cop? Jerry closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see anymore. He closed his eyes and laid his head down on the pillow. He needed to have a little talk with himself about the women he fell in love with. Soon. But right now he just wanted to sleep.

  Chapter 19

  Jerry dozed in and out of what was the strangest sleep of his life. Words flew around him in a storm. His body was manhandled. Someone pulled up his eyelids and peered in his eyes with a light. His clothes and boots were forced on his body. He was placed in a chair and pushed out of the room. And still he slept. He couldn’t care about what was going on in the real world. He didn’t even care what was happening to Sara. Until he did.

  His eyes flew open and he jerked forward, but he was tied aroun
d the waist and didn’t move much. He tried to make sense of his surroundings, but even with his eyes open, he couldn’t see anything. A hum and a familiar bouncing-swaying feeling told him he was in a vehicle. His eyes adjusted. He was in the back seat of a sedan, driving down what appeared to be a small road with no streetlights and no oncoming traffic. Two men were in the front. Sara was next to him, unconscious, her clothes stained with what could be blood. Her body slumped uncomfortably forward, and he could see her arms were cuffed behind her. Her legs had metal cuffs or shackles on them too. Like she was public enemy #1. Like these guys were scared of her.

  Jerry gasped and tried to move to her. His hands were stuck behind his back. He tried to pull them apart. He was handcuffed, but not with the plastic cuffs. These were real, metal cuffs.

  “Hey, what’s going on? Why am I handcuffed? Are we going to a hospital?” he croaked, his voice barely registering to his own ears.

  The man in the passenger seat looked back at him anyway and grinned an evil grin. He slapped the driver on the shoulder. “Yep, we’re going to the hospital alright, aren’t we Chris?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. Jerry’s stomach clenched in fear. He looked at Sara, hunched over, shackled and bleeding, unconscious in the seat next to him. What kind of horrific thing was she involved in? Who were these men? What had happened to the police? These couldn’t be the police, right?

  Jerry looked at the driver and passenger again. They looked mostly like ordinary guys. Both had short hair, but not military short. The driver, Chris, seemed a bit on the stocky side. The passenger with the evil grin was slim and looked like he would kick a dog just to hear it yelp and then grin that evil grin and laugh about it.

  Jerry’s heart threatened to explode out of his chest. When it had been just Sara in the hotel room, holding a gun on him, he’d been scared, but not terrified. He’d still felt the pull of Sara. Her allure. And he didn’t think she would shoot him out of spite, or malice. But these guys? This situation was like something out of a bad horror movie. Where the victims never had a chance. A chance of what? his brain whispered. Escaping? Or even Living?

  The passenger leaned forward. “There! Right There!” he yelled, pointing to the left. Jerry jerked forward as the car slammed to a stop. Jerry peered out his window and saw the twin ruts through the desert dust that could be a driveway. The car nosed slowly into them.

  Jerry leaned back, his racing mind trying to make sense of all of this. Obviously Sara was more than she seemed. Was she a criminal? Was she a fugitive? But if she was the criminal who were these guys? They couldn’t be cops. Cops took you to the police station, not out in the desert. But how had they gotten Sara away from the cops? And why had they taken him too? Because he was a witness?

  Whatever she was, Jerry knew that Sara couldn’t help him now. He was going into this situation blind, but if it was as bad as his heart was telling him it was, he needed to pull himself together, use every resource he had to fight or talk his way out of this and save Sara too. What would Craig do? What would Hawk do? Jerry thought about his friends and desperately wished they were here, or that they even knew he was missing. Wait, maybe that was a key? Maybe he could talk his way out of this. He did have friends in the FBI, after all.

  Jerry opened his mouth but before he could say a word, the car stopped. The dusty glare from the headlights revealed a ramshackle house that looked to be long abandoned. The guy with the evil grin hopped out of the car and ran to the front door, twisting it open. He fished a flashlight from his pocket and shone it around inside. He was back to the car in seconds.

  “This is it alright. Kill the engine.”

  Chris did, but left the headlights on, then got out of the car. Both men stretched their spines.

  “This place is très spooky, Brian.”

  Brian and Chris, huh. Those were his … His what? Captors? Just a couple of all-American goofballs, Jerry thought. He gritted his teeth and prayed it was true. If they were goofballs, maybe he and Sara had a chance.

  “Yeah, let’s get inside.”

  Brian walked to Sara’s door and opened it. He reached over her and jabbed her seatbelt release. Sara spilled forward and Brian pulled her towards the door so she fell head-first onto the ground.

  “Hey!” Jerry yelled. “What the hell are you doing? She’s hurt and unconscious!”

  Brian gave Jerry his usual evil grin and then kicked Sara in the ribs. She didn’t move.

  Jerry’s eyes went wide. He shook his head in shock. “You can’t do that to a woman.”

  Brian threw his head back and laughed. “Did you hear that Chris? This guy’s soft on her.” He bent down and looked Jerry in the eye. “Love ‘em and Cleave ‘em Lola isn’t a woman, she’s a machine.” He looked down at Sara. “Isn’t that right, Lola,” he said, putting as much innuendo and hate as he could muster into the last word. Then he kicked her again. Jerry winced and wished Sara hadn’t taken his gun. This was bad. This was very, very bad. Jerry twisted in his seat and found his seatbelt release. He clicked it then pulled his body across the car with his legs. He jumped out of the car, knelt next to Sara, and threw his body over hers. If she was getting any more kicks, he was going to take them.

  Brian laughed again and aimed another kick. Jerry shimmied his body around, his hands pulling cruelly tight behind his back, and tried to cover Sara fully.

  “Knock it off,” Chris said in a harsh tone. “You kill her and the boss is gonna have your head. Let’s get them inside.”

  Jerry knelt, panting, waiting to see if the kick would still come or not. It didn’t. He felt something on his cheek, which was pressed against Sara’s face. A soft, but definite fluttering of her lips. She had kissed him. Jerry pulled his head back so he could see her. She still looked unconscious. Was she shamming? Jerry felt a quickening of hope in his belly, as soft as her lips had been. Did Sara have a plan? Something up her sleeve? Or was she just trying to gain what small advantage she might have by feigning unconsciousness. Again Jerry wondered just who exactly she was and what exactly was she into. What was going on here?

  Chris came around the car towards them, a large gun drawn and pointing at Jerry. “Get up, stand over there.” He lifted his chin towards the front of the car. Jerry maneuvered himself to his knees with effort, then stood.

  He watched each man grab an arm and prepare to drag Sara into the house. “Unlock me,” he said quickly. I won’t run, I’ll carry her for you.”

  “No.” Chris spat the word out, leaving no room for argument. “Walk into the house and go into the first door on your right.”

  Jerry walked, sneaking glances back at Sara. Her head hung down and her feet dragged on the desert hardpan, leaving dusty grooves.

  The house was as dark as a well. The slight night breeze of the desert pushed its way through the door, stirring up dirt and dust that made Jerry want to sneeze. He could make out the first doorway to the right with the light from the headlights, plus a second doorway a little ways down. He stopped in the first doorway and turned around.

  “Look, I don’t know what’s going on here, or why you grabbed me and Sara, but if its about money, I can get you money if you let us go. A lot of money.”

  Chris and Brian exchanged a look. Jerry couldn’t see their faces, but he sensed an almost-laughing, evil grin surface on Brian’s face. It wasn’t about money then. Fuck. What else could he offer?

  “I have friends in the —” Chris dropped Sara’s arm and took a step towards Jerry. He planted the hand that wasn’t holding the gun in Jerry’s chest and shoved hard, putting his body into it. Jerry wasn’t expecting it. He tried to save himself with a step backwards but fell instead, landing on his backside and smashing his hands painfully. Chris slammed the door shut and Jerry heard metal jingle and scrape.

  Great, he thought. Now I can’t do a fucking thing for anyone, including myself. He scooted quickly to the door and pressed his ear to the small gap at the floor. He heard muffled talking, and footsteps, then another door slammed and
more metal scraped. His guess was Sara had been put in the next room.

  He circled his wrists carefully inside the cuffs and looked around the room. Soft moonlight fell through the window. Maybe when his eyes adjusted he’d be able to see more. His first job was to get out of these handcuffs. Jerry thought hard. How was he supposed to get out of these cuffs? A bobby pin, right? Too bad he was fresh out.

  He got up and circled the room in the meager light. A small cot. A toilet like in a jail cell. And that was it. The room itself was roughly the size of a jail cell, maybe a little bit wider. Nothing that he could jimmy his cuffs with. Maybe on the floor, or under the bed? This was obviously intended to be used to house prisoners. Maybe he could find something hidden.

  He pressed his ear to the door one time. Hearing nothing, he started a thorough search of the room. As thorough as it could be with his hands secured behind his back anyway. A frantic voice hollered at the back of his mind, pulling at his attention, but he forcefully ignored it. That voice was panic, and he knew if he listened to it he would lose most or all of his wits and effectiveness. This was the worst, most dangerous situation he’d ever been in in his entire life, and panic could easily be deadly for him. Deadly for him and for Sara. That panicked part of his mind screamed that Sara got him into this, and he’d be better off if he just forgot she existed. He needed a plan to get him out of this mess and Sara be damned. She probably was just reaping something she had sowed anyway.

  This time he took a moment to tell the panicked voice to fuck off before turning back to ignoring it. If he could find a way out of here, there was no way he was leaving Sara, shackled at the hands of men who would kick her while she was unconscious. He didn’t care if she was a criminal or not. Even criminals didn’t deserve to be treated like that.

  His mind set, he got to work. Sara owed him some answers, that was certain, but she didn’t owe anyone her life. And he would never abandon her.

  I don’t want to die out here, he thought. Then do something about it.