Time To Kill (Witness Security Book 2)

by Jamie Hill

  Roughly a week and a half until he testified and the nightmare would be over. Then he’d have to figure out what his new normal would be. Regardless, he knew one thing. I’m going to make it.

  * * *

  Los Angeles, California

  The driver of the car Nick rode in pulled over in a grocery store parking lot. The place was closed and Nick wasn’t quite sure what they were doing. Suddenly, a caravan of vehicles joined them, mostly dark SUVs, but at least one SWAT van.

  He inhaled and blew out the breath. Shit’s getting real.

  Lincoln turned around to speak. “Everyone gear up. Pierce, you got a vest on?”

  “I do.”

  “Then you just need a windbreaker with US Marshal on it. We’ve got extra. When we’re working with SWAT, we make sure everyone is clearly marked from the back.”

  He gulped. “I’m all for that.”

  They climbed out and while the other men donned their bulletproof vests and jackets, Nick buttoned the light jacket over the one he already wore.

  A barrel-chested man with a dark crew cut approached. His jacket read LAPD. He trained his gaze on Nick. “Marshal? I’m Lieutenant Roger Reed with the LAPD. We’re taking VanDyke’s house in full-out, surprise mode and I want to make sure everyone is briefed going in.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I understand your partner is missing, but you need to remember that you’re here as a courtesy to your department. I’m running this show and I’ll do all the talking, you got that?”

  “Loud and clear, sir.”

  “Because you seem like the type who could get mouthy. You ever get mouthy, Marshal?”

  “Oh, yes, sir.”

  The corners of Reed’s mouth twitched in a small smile. “Is that why someone tried to knock your block off?” He motioned to Nick’s chin which Nick knew still sported an orange and purple bruise.

  “One of the times, sir. It’s been a busy week.”

  Reed finally allowed a smile and turned to Lincoln. “Everybody geared up? We want a real show of force for these people.”

  “We’re ready,” the marshal agreed.

  “Let’s go.” Reed called louder, “Head out!”

  Everyone got back in their cars, and the drive continued for a few more blocks.

  The caravan pulled to a stop in front of a large, white house—mansion—with cars and vans blocking the street and driveway. Nick followed the other marshals as they pulled their guns and crept to the front in crouched positions.

  Half of the police remained out front and the others spread out around the back. Reed glanced back at everyone, gave a nod, and then pounded loudly on the front door. “LAPD! Open up!”

  He allowed the residents about ten seconds and when they didn’t comply, two fully geared-up men with a battering ram knocked the door down. Police poured into the house, the marshals along with them.

  A dark-haired man who had to be Tracy VanDyke appeared shocked then enraged as his home filled with officers. “What’s the meaning of this? You damn well better have a warrant!”

  Reed shoved a piece of paper in the man’s face. “We’re looking for a US Marshal who’s been kidnapped. This gives us permission to look in here.”

  VanDyke shook his head. “I don’t know anything about that. My family and I were just sitting down to dinner.”

  “Tell them to go ahead and eat. You’ll be coming with us as we search.” Reed clutched the man by the upper arm.

  “You’re not going to find anything here.” VanDyke sighed. “Look, I can’t make excuses for my father. We weren’t all that close when my sister and I were growing up. He was always working. But when Mom got sick…” He shuddered.

  Nick almost felt sorry for the guy, then he remembered Jordan.

  VanDyke continued, “I tried to be there for him a little more. Pop made an effort. We just sort of came together. But I had no idea what he may or may not have been doing on the side. I never asked and he never said.”

  Reed sneered, “Don’t ask, don’t tell. Ain’t that friggin’ convenient?”

  The man shrugged. “It is what it is.”

  Nick turned away, mumbling, “I hate that expression.” He spotted a woman peering around the corner at them from the other room. She was attractive, with long brown hair and big dark eyes. She held something in her hand; he almost had to squint to tell what it was. A dog? He blinked. It looks like a furry white dog. It was small enough to fit in one of her hands. Lord have mercy.

  He glanced up and noticed the woman was staring at him. He held her gaze for a moment until she broke it off.

  A boy approached her with a nervous expression on his face. “Mom?”

  “It’s all right, sweetie. Here.” She handed him the dog. “Take Misty and go sit with Bella. She must be frightened. I’ll be there in a moment.”

  He nodded and with a quick glance toward the officers, hurried off with the dog.

  “Thanks, Max.” She approached Reed and her husband. “What is going on? How dare you come busting in here!” She examined the foyer. “You broke down the door? All you had to do was knock!”

  “Wil, go be with the kids,” VanDyke urged. “I’ll take care of this.”

  “I’m calling our lawyer. You won’t get away with this.” Her sneer was intended for Reed, but she eyed each of the marshals behind him and made sure they all felt her wrath.

  “Yes, get Oliver on the phone,” her husband agreed. “This is bullshit.”

  “Let’s go.” Reed pushed VanDyke forward into the home.

  VanDyke continued, “Check the books for the past six months. VanDyke Trucking is totally legit. You won’t find one number out of place.”

  “Which books? I’m sure you have two sets like your old man did. Show us the other set, Tracy, and then we’ll talk.”

  “Do I look stupid? I’ve got a family to take care of. My wife and kids are everything to me. I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize that. Whatever my father may have done is over. I’m running things legal and above board.”

  “Good to know.” Reed kept walking.

  They searched every room in the house and nothing appeared out of place. Nick was frustrated and disappointed, but Todd tried to reassure him.

  “We never really thought they’d be holding her here, especially with those kids in the house. But we were hoping for a clue of some kind.” He held up his phone. “My chief just sent these pictures, a couple Hispanic guys that work for VanDyke. Either of them look like your guy?” He showed them to Nick.

  Neither was the mustached man he’d seen at the storage facility. His frustration ramped up another notch. “No.”

  “Okay. It was worth a shot.”

  “Bingo!” Someone yelled from inside the house. An officer brought a package to Reed and handed it over.

  The lieutenant looked inside. “Hello, what’s this?” He glanced up at VanDyke. “A couple kilos of cocaine, perhaps? Wow. Speechless. I’m so sorry. You were right. You’re totally legal and above board now.”

  VanDyke’s face reddened. “That’s not what you think. I mean it is, but we’re not selling it. Prison is hard for Pop. I sneak him in a little every now and then to help him get by.”

  Reed stared at him with disbelief. “Do you realize how many laws you just admitted to breaking, right there in that one sentence?”

  The man’s dark eyes flashed. “I don’t think I want to talk to you anymore. I’ll wait for my lawyer.”

  “Yeah, you do that. And while you’re waiting, think about this. Possession of cocaine in this amount is a felony. If some of it happened to get lost on the way to the evidence lockup, it might be more like a misdemeanor.”

  “What might cause it to get lost?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Reed scratched his chin, seeming to think about it. “If, say, our missing marshal turned up unharmed, we might be so busy with her that the police could get sloppy.”

  VanDyke sighed. “That would be great, if I
knew where the missing marshal was. I don’t. I told you I don’t.”

  “You also told me you’re now legal and above board. You’re a liar, VanDyke, just like your old man. The apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”

  VanDyke looked at the ceiling. “I think we’re done talking.”

  “Whatever. Say ‘so long’ to the wife and kiddies. Might be awhile before you see them again.” Reed snapped handcuffs on the man.

  A bead of sweat ran down Tracy VanDyke’s cheek.

  * * *

  Los Angeles, California

  Jordan was no longer living the high life. Her second day in captivity found her cuffed to a metal pipe in a damp, dingy basement. Arms stretched uncomfortably over her head, she was just barely able to sit on the cold concrete floor.

  Gabe checked on her every couple of hours, and she always told him she had to pee so he’d release her hands and let her move around a little bit. He brought her food at regular intervals, not the cuisine of choice, but it was something. She realized things could be much worse.

  He wasn’t chummy enough to talk to her other than some cursory commands, but she didn’t mind that either. She kept thinking too friendly would be worse than his not being sociable at all. Besides the beating she took when she’d first arrived, her treatment hadn’t been too bad.

  Her mind drifted from Charlie to Doug and Evan, wondering where they all were and what, if anything, they were doing to get her released. She could only pray that Charlie was still alive and somehow safe again. She prayed that Nick hadn’t suffered, and had gone as peacefully as possible for someone who’d been murdered in cold blood.

  She felt guilty praying for her own release since she’d let her Catholicism lapse so many years ago, but she did anyway. Our God is an awesome God… A song she recalled from her elementary school religion class days kept coming back to her, the tune sticking in her mind like an ear worm.

  With nothing to do besides think, she dissected whether or not he truly was an awesome God with all the things that had happened to her and Nick over the past few weeks. People made their own choices and she knew it wasn’t realistic to blame God, but it sure was easy. She also knew that sometimes, bad things happened to good people. Usually those things were the result of someone else’s bad choices. Ultimately, blaming God seemed like the lazy way out, and while she was many things, lazy wasn’t one of them.

  Then she moved to dissecting ear worm songs, and trying to recall the worst ones that ever got stuck in her head and just wouldn’t come out. Besides Muskrat Love, she didn’t remember many.

  The basement door opened and she heard footsteps on the wooden stairs. Footsteps, plural. Jordan held her breath.

  Gabe appeared with another Hispanic man behind him. This one was taller, broader, and flashed a gold cap on one of his front teeth when he smiled at her. “Hola, Chica. Hablas español?”

  Jordan spoke just enough Spanish to be dangerous. She didn’t think swearing at him was the thing to do, so she remained silent.

  He looked her over carefully, from top to bottom.

  When he reached out and cupped one of her breasts, she squirmed to pull away.

  He laughed and let go, then turned to Gabe and spoke in unbroken Spanish. “She’s a beauty. Are there people looking for her?”

  Gabe replied in Spanish, and Jordan did her best to understand. “Yes. She’s some type of law officer. People are certainly looking for her.”

  The man eyed Jordan’s body again, and then continued his conversation. “How did you end up with this law officer?”

  “VanDyke told me to get rid of her. I could have done that, but it seemed like such a waste. You’ve paid good money for women less attractive.”

  “True, but not when there are authorities searching for them. That complicates matters.”

  Gabe shook his head. “It wouldn’t have to. You could take her tonight and be across the border by morning.”

  Jordan’s heart lurched. She wasn’t sure she was translating everything correctly, but she definitely got the gist of the conversation. She was in trouble.

  The man made a face. “Such a transaction requires some planning. I might be able to pull it off tomorrow night. You believe she’s safe here?”

  “No question. One more day won’t be a problem. Shall we go upstairs, have a drink, and discuss terms?”

  “Fine.” The stranger put his face in Jordan’s and grinned. “See you manana, chica.”

  His breath stunk of tobacco and something even viler. She turned her face away, fighting the combination of bile and panic rising in her throat. She was in big trouble.

  * * *

  When the marshals dropped off Nick, Todd entered the house with him. Woods, Evan and Ben all glanced at them expectantly. Evan finally said, “Well? Anything?”

  Nick shook his head.

  Todd said, “Found a sizeable stash of blow at their house. Cops tried to bargain with them in exchange for Jordan, but the son didn’t bite.”

  Ben looked perplexed. “What do we think that means?”

  Woods turned to Todd. “Think he really doesn’t have her?”

  “Or doesn’t have her anymore,” Todd offered. “They made him a pretty good offer. Family man that he is, I thought he would have gone for it.”

  Nick shook his head. “No, because then he’d be charged with not only possession, but also with kidnapping a US Marshal. The felony charges would come right back. VanDyke looked nervous, but not stupid.”

  Todd said, “We’re keeping our fingers crossed that he makes arrangements to have her released, so he doesn’t actually take the fall but perhaps can reap some of the credit. We’ll just have to see. Time will tell.”

  Nick walked into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. Time. He thought about the couple that Jordan nearly bowled over at the Denver airport. He’d told them that her poodle had been run over and they had to cancel their vacation to Fiji. He and Jordan had always loved that part of their jobs, making up stories, the more outrageous the better. They’d always tried to outdo each other, and had shared laughs about it afterward.

  Time and prayer takes care of everything, the woman had told him. If that was the case, then they just needed to allow the time. He’d prayed more in the past twenty-four hours than he ever had in his life. God might not have remembered him at first, but by now they were old friends. Nick firmly believed in the ‘squeaky wheel’ theory, and said a prayer every time he turned around.

  He returned to the living room, where Woods was preparing to leave. “We’re taking shifts. Todd will stay tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Nick nodded. “Get some sleep.”

  “You, too.” Woods left and Todd locked the door behind him. “You should all get some sleep. I’ll be on watch with Mr. Allen.”

  Charlie stood. “Which room is mine?”

  Todd pointed to the couch. “You’re sleeping out here where I can see you. We’ll find you a pillow and a blanket.”

  “Oh.” Charlie sat back down, rolling his eyes.

  Evan told Nick, “Ben and I will take shifts, too. You try to sleep as long as you can. You’ve had a long couple of days.”

  Nick yawned. “I have. Who knew my simple little assignment was going to turn out this way? Not me, that’s for fucking sure. I shoulda said no.” He stomped down the hallway and into his chosen bedroom, and then closed the door.

  Fatigue was getting the best of him. It was all he could do to kick off his boots and fall into bed. He thought briefly about grabbing Jordan’s shirt, but he didn’t. At this point, her scent was more of a distraction. He just needed sleep. And Jordan. He really needed Jordan.

  Nick closed his eyes.

  When he opened them again, light filtered in through the window blinds. He stretched and yawned then looked at his phone. Nine a.m. He’d slept straight through.

  He showered and dressed then headed to the other room. Ben, Evan and Charlie were eating toast and cereal. “Anything?” he a
sked the chief.

  Evan shook his head. “Quiet night. Once Ben woke up I sent Todd back for some sleep. He checked in with his boss first, but there’s nothing new to report.”

  Nodding, Nick sat and picked up a piece of toast.

  “Coffee?” Ben offered.

  “Sure. Thanks.” He watched the steaming liquid fill his cup and once again thought of Jordan. She didn’t do anything until she’d had her first cup of strong coffee in the morning. Anything that requires standing, that is. She’d never complained about morning quickies. Or not-so-quickies.

  He was making himself crazy, and needed a distraction. “Charlie, how’s the manuscript? As good as you remembered it?”

  Their witness grinned. “If I do say so myself. I’m sharpening it up as I reread it.”

  “Are you gonna let me read it?”

  Charlie’s eyes widened. “Do you mean it? You want to?”

  Nick popped the last bite of toast into this mouth, chewed and swallowed. “Why not? Seems we’ve got nothing but time today.” He took his coffee into the front room and settled in a chair with the laptop. “Rowan Nightingale never saw it coming,” he read the first sentence.

  “Not out loud!” Charlie yelled, his expression horrified.

  Nick chuckled and leaned back, preparing to read.

  Todd rejoined them later, touched base with his department, and grabbed a bite to eat.

  Ben approached Nick after a while. “How’s the book?”

  Nick raised one finger and finished the page before he glanced up. “Actually, it’s not bad. I kind of want to know what happens, but the rest hasn’t been written yet.”

  Charlie’s ears perked up. “Not bad?”

  Nick grinned. “It was good, Charlie. There are lots of typos, but nothing a good edit won’t fix. I liked it. I want to read more.” He passed the computer back to its owner.