Deadly Abandon

by Kallie Lane

  She ran full out, anxious to reach Cody and help with his injuries until the EMTs arrived. Offshoots of the tunnel spread out around her like spokes in a wheel. She wasted precious time searching each of them to find the right locker room.

  Bare bulbs shone sporadically along each darkened corridor. Many of them broken or burned out beneath rusted grills, casting the tunnels in an eerie glow. Muffled voices ricocheted off cinderblock walls, but she couldn’t get a fix on where the voices originated.

  Where is everyone? Shouldn’t there be people milling in the corridors?

  She continued through the maze of tunnels until she found locker room number ten in the last corridor she searched. She was breathless by the time she reached it, her chest heaving, a growing uneasiness penetrating her spine.

  Why is the team’s locker room so far away from the stairwell? And why isn’t someone waiting in the corridor for the EMTs to arrive?

  She burst through the door and got her answer. The room was empty. The steel door slammed shut at her back with a decisive clunk. A key turned in the lock. She was alone. She was a prisoner. This can’t be happening! That murdering-psycho-madman was down here somewhere. It was the only thing that made any sense. She had raced into his trap like a steer to the slaughterhouse. She sucked in a deep breath and processed her last calming thought.

  Cody wasn’t injured. It was all a sham, a clever trap based on her love for her child.

  She would die because she had fallen for the oldest trick in the book.

  ****

  Where the hell did she go?

  Sully leapt the stairs three at a time and made for the lobby. Damn it, he’d told her to stay put. One minute she was there and the next she was gone, swallowed up by the throng heading for the door. He battled through the crowd as fans poured back down the stairs to grab seats for the next game. Laura and Jack rushed him when he reached the lobby.

  Why isn’t Breeana with them?

  “Where’s my daughter?” Jack snapped. “And how’s Cody doing?”

  “I haven’t seen Bree. I thought she was with you. Cody’s fine. What in blazes are you talking about, Jack?”

  Sully’s gut tightened as Laura and Jack filled him in on the ruse that sent Breeana into the maze of tunnels, the tunnels on the far side of the arena which were rarely used since the new wing was added a few years ago. He knew this because he played hockey here from time to time for charity events.

  “When Laura showed me the staircase Breeana went down, I got concerned,” Jack said. “I know the old building from coming to other games, and I figured she had gone the wrong way.”

  “Shit!” Sully reached for his weapon where he’d tucked it into the waistband at his back beneath his jacket. His blood iced with a deadly calm as he wrapped a hand around the familiar grip. “Find Cody and stay with him until I get back. Call 9-1-1. I need back up. Now.”

  “Wait! Where are you going?” Jack shouted.

  “To get Breeana back.”

  Sully sprinted through the double doors back down to the rink. With no time to waste, he took the shortest route to the old locker rooms by cutting across the ice. Slipping and sliding his way between players doing warm-up drills before the next game, he took a puck to the ankle.

  Hobbling and cursing, he kept on running toward the steel doors on the far side of the ice. Seeing the Glock in his hand, arena security chased after him. He waved them off with his badge and barked out an order to lock down the arena.

  Frantic to reach Breeana, he plunged through the old entrance to the locker rooms, his pistol sweeping in a firing stance. She was down here somewhere with a killer. He couldn’t afford to make any mistakes. He kicked himself for leaving her alone upstairs. He might as well have hung a sign around her neck, saying “Take her, she’s yours.”

  Chapter Seven

  The sounds of scampering and squeaking reached Breeana along with their stench before she saw them pour out of the shower area. Sewer rats, too many to count. She guessed they hadn’t eaten in a while.

  Will they attack? One made a mad dash in her direction.

  Yes, they would.

  Breeana had never been afraid of rats, at least not the laboratory variety. But these rats were a new and terrifying species to her. Their oversized teeth seemed anxious to sink into fresh meat…a fresh kill…to sink into her. They caught her scent and the frenzied race to reach her was on.

  Was this how it would end for her? Death at the hands of a madman, to be torn apart by rodents? No, not if she had anything to say about it. She vaulted onto the nearest bench and hauled herself up the cinderblock wall to the clothes hooks screwed near the ceiling. Clinging to those hooks with shaking hands, and ankles, she screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Then she saw it, a pink, beaded rosary hanging by its silver chain from the hook nearest her head. The psycho had left her another calling card.

  The rats below her were frenzied, whiskers twitching, beady eyes brightening with the knowledge dinner was only a hairsbreadth away. They stampeded over each other, leaping through the air and sliding back down the wall mere inches below her spine.

  Soon they clambered up a pipe on the opposite wall and scurried along the overhead conduits slanted in her direction.

  “Oh, dear God! Help me! Help me!” She screamed, imagining those gnashing teeth ripping at her flesh and dropping her to the ground.

  ****

  Sully threw his weight against the door, again and again, listening to her agonizing screams and imagining the worst hell had to offer. The door wouldn’t budge and shooting the old locking mechanism didn’t release it. There had to be another way in. Then he remembered.

  The bathrooms connected these old style locker rooms. He should know. He’d had enough fights with the opposing teams in them as a teen. He raced to the next locker room and, thank you Jesus! The door was unlocked.

  His mind registered the cages stacked in the shower stalls as he charged through the shower area and into the next room. It took him about a nanosecond to size up the situation. His stomach heaved. Rats, lots of them. Fuck!

  “Get ready to jump!” His shots rang out and the rats started to fall. Breeana seemed paralyzed as the surviving rats fell upon the others, tearing flesh away from the bones of their fallen comrades that lay twitching on the floor.

  He reached her in two strides, wrenched her into his arms, and raced for the door. He slammed it behind them with mere seconds to spare. The rats hurled themselves against the other side of the door.

  “Holy hell, that was way too close.” Sully pulled her against him and held her tight. He doubted he had the strength to move anytime soon. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled the flowery scent while running his hands over her body. He did not want to think about what could have happened. “Do you need a doctor? Did they hurt you?”

  “No, no. They didn’t bite me, but they almost scared me to death.” Her eyes were dark pools of terror when she turned them toward him. “How did he do it? How did he know the room would be filled with rats?”

  Sully wrapped an arm around her shoulders and started the long trek out of the tunnels. He tried his cell phone, but there was no signal. They were in a dead zone. “He planned this, Bree. He trapped the rats and brought them with him. I saw the crates he used in the shower stalls. These old tunnels and locker rooms are hardly used anymore. He must have found a way in from the outside. It had to take him a few days to bring in so many of them.”

  “He did it after he missed killing me at the clinic.” Breeana grabbed hold of his hand as she shuddered. “There’s a rosary hanging on one of the hooks in there. You’ll need to get it. And someone should talk to the tournament official, the one who said Cody was hurt and in that locker room.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it. But, Animal Control has to gas the rats before I’d risk letting anyone back in the room. Once that’s done, the forensic team will go in to gather evidence. I’ll get Millette out here to detain the jerk w
ho lied to you, as soon as I raise him on my cell phone.”

  “Thank you for saving my life,” she said, so trusting, it tore him apart inside. The look on her face finished him off.

  “I’m nobody’s hero, cookie. Don’t thank me when I almost got you killed.”

  “You’re selling yourself short, Sully.” She got in front of him and stood on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck. “You shot the rats and carried me out of the room.”

  He let out a groan and pulled her closer, capturing her face in his hands. He slanted his mouth over hers and, taking his time, tasted what he had almost lost tonight. The cold reality shot through him. She was more than just a woman under his protection. She was the woman cracking the defenses around his obstinate heart.

  “Listen, if I’d been with you, where I was supposed to be, it never would have happened. I give you my word, Bree…I won’t let you down again.”

  But, even as he said the words, a nagging doubt wouldn’t let go. How had the killer known she would be at the arena today? He must have known in advance to carry out such an elaborate scheme to kill her. Hell, the psycho had trucked in the rats to take her down.

  Sully’s insides quaked, his brain shifting to warrior mode. This was one hell of a diabolical killer.

  ****

  Breeana checked her appearance in the visor mirror, twisted her hair into a clip on top of her head and pinched her cheeks to draw some color back into her face. She still looked like “death warmed over” as her mother used to say. But it could have been so much worse. If Sully hadn’t rescued her, she would have ended up as hamburger meat, with very little of her body left for anyone to identify.

  From all outward appearances, she didn’t look half bad, but terror still churned on the inside, making it hard to breathe. She needed to get home and pull herself together. The off ramp to Mallard Bay flew by the window at a hundred clicks per hour. “Hey! You missed the exit. Where are we going?”

  “I thought we’d eat out tonight.”

  “What?” She was incredulous. Had the recent events not phased Sully one iota? “How can you think of your stomach at a time like this?”

  “It’s easy, Bree, with a beautiful woman at my side and a romantic city like Montreal at our disposal. Besides, you need time to calm down and we need to talk before we go back to the house. Jack and Cody are fine without us for a few hours. The uniforms outside the house will keep them safe.”

  Breeana folded her arms across her chest and silently counted to ten. “Sully, I don’t want to talk about anything right now. I just want to go home.”

  “Why? So you can bury your head in the sand again? Not anymore, cookie.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake. You’re being ridiculous.”

  He glanced over at her. She tried to gauge his expression but his mirrored shades tossed back her own reflection. Truth be told, she was more ticked off at herself than she was at him. Because he was right.

  Despite her reluctance, he parked in the old quarter of the city. Then he plastered her to his side with an arm banding her waist as they strode the cobblestone streets to a popular café. Once inside, Sully pointed to a table in a far corner and tipped the maître d’ to seat them there. They ordered drinks to start, followed by rack of lamb for both of them. They didn’t speak until the waiter returned with their drink orders.

  Sully held her hands in both of his, stroking her wrists with his thumbs until the shaking subsided in her fingers. She could see the raw concern in his eyes. “Are you all right?”

  “Perhaps after two or three more of these strawberry daiquiris.” Her attempt at a joke came out flat. Nothing could erase the horror of being locked inside the locker room with those rats. Worse than that, her fear of the man who wanted to kill her whipped through her body. If it wasn’t for Sully, she would be dead. “I’m glad you’re the designated driver.”

  “Hey, anytime.” She watched him nurse his beer while scanning the other occupants of the restaurant over the rim of his glass. His gaze was cold and calculating as he assessed every face and every nuance of movement in the crowd. Tenseness gripped his shoulders as his gaze touched on hers then moved away again to land on another couple waiting to be seated. “I’d like to run something by you, if you’re up to it.”

  He frightened her with his constant surveillance of the people around her, as if the maniac might have followed them there. “If it’s not good news, I don’t want to hear it.”

  “Too bad.” His strong fingers brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Then he cupped her chin in his hand and forced her to meet his gaze. “The attack on you at the arena was too damn close for comfort. So, now you’re going to do things my way, because until the killer is caught, your life isn’t worth spit.”

  “I don’t think”

  “Just hear me out. I know you don’t want to go into protective custody and I understand. You and Cody have a life, and you want to keep it as normal as possible. But, if you won’t go into hiding, you need around-the-clock protection. I won’t risk the freak getting near you again, Bree.”

  “I know you’re right, but I don’t want to frighten my son by changing our routine. Or give the psycho the satisfaction of seeing me running scared. Isn’t there a chance he’ll back off now and leave me alone?”

  “Are you willing to bet your life on it? Or Cody’s? My gut says he’ll keep on coming until he gets it right.” Sully took a small sip from his pilsner glass and laughed. It was a chilling sound, one without humor. “Wake up before it’s too late. This isn’t some fairytale where you get to write your own ending. You’re the one who got away, remember? Twice. You’re also the only one to spoil his fantasy for him. And you’re the one he is determined to destroy. It’s a matter of pride for him now.”

  Chills slid up her back and slithered back down again. “Are you expecting him to jump out of the woodwork and finish me off, for heaven’s sake?”

  “Oh, he can try. It’s one of the reasons I’m handling your protection personally.” He leaned on the table and threaded his fingers through hers across the round expanse of linen. “But that’s only the professional reason. We both know there’s something heating up between us. I care about you, Bree, more than I should. I can’t be with you to protect you all the time, not if I’m going to oversee the investigation. So, I’m bringing in some people to keep you safe.

  “And, after I catch the psycho? I’d like the chance to get to know you a whole lot better. I don’t mean I only want to sleep with you. That’s just part of the reason…and I’m willing to wait on that score.”

  Breeana thought about the sultry feelings he stirred inside her. She wondered if she dared risk having her heart broken by any man again, especially by this man who thrived in the danger zone. A man terrified of intimacy. A man she was attracted to.

  Yes, I dare. Life is for the living, after all.

  Tom had died over two years ago. She knew he wouldn’t want her living in the isolated vacuum she had cocooned herself in. It was time to let go and move on. Removing her wedding band, she gazed at Sully and tucked it inside her purse. The twinkle in his dark eyes at her action warmed her insides.

  “I’d like the chance to get to know you better, too. Now, who are these people you want to protect me?”

  “They are members of my Special Ops squad. We’re a reserve unit now and I can get some men together to help out. I trust them with my life, Bree, and I trust them to take care of you and Cody. They are trained to handle these situations far better than any police force. They won’t let this guy get to you.”

  Breeana gasped, the reality of her situation finally sinking in. She tipped her chin. “So, what do we do now?”

  Sully met her gaze and held it. “We do nothing. I call in my team to keep you safe.”

  Chapter Eight

  The Shepherd stood beneath a wide canopy of maple trees, gazing at the river where it churned over the rocks.

  Beside him, the tournament official pulled
out his wallet, added the bills he’d given him, and slipped it back inside his jacket. Uncapping a hip flask, the man chuckled before taking a deep swallow. Excitement flared when he recounted his part in capturing Breeana. “I only paid the kid ten bucks to hook her son and plow him headfirst into the net. And you shudda seen the broad. She went squirrelly when I said her boy was puking his guts out. She raced for those stairs like a house on f—”

  The Shepherd had heard enough. The man would be bragging from a barstool first chance he got, so proud of what he’d done.

  Palming the knife, he flicked it open on the upswing and brought it across. With one slash, steel met flesh. A clean slice opened at the official’s throat, and he gagged, choking on his own blood. The Shepherd watched, enjoying the show as the man toppled forward in the river. He twitched in the shallows a moment before the undertow dragged him into deeper water.

  With a hum, The Shepherd crouched, swished the blade in the river to clean off the blood, and dried it on the grass. Folding the KA-BAR, he slipped it into his cargo pants while scanning the area around him.

  The lights of the town on the far shore lit the dark horizon. Nothing moved, only a breeze skimming the river. It filled his mouth with the taste of dead fish and raw sewage. He spat and swiped a hand across his lips. He’d chosen the right spot to do the sinner. The man was human waste at its finest.

  The body floated farther out and finally caught the rapids. It bucked and rolled in white water and disappeared…about time. He needed to haul ass before someone spotted him. They’d find Breeana soon and all hell would break loose.

  The crowd’s roar melded with the music blasting through the arena doors some fifty meters behind him. We Will Rock You blared between hockey plays in short, staccato bursts.

  He rocked tonight. He was the champ. He wanted inside the building so bad he got hard just thinking about it. But once Sauvage found Breeana’s bloody body and sounded the alarm? The place would be locked down tighter than a prison yard and crawling with cops.