by Marie Harte
Something pinched in the side of her neck.
Shannon opened her eyes to find Lisa kneeling in front of her. In her hand was a clear syringe, the needle bare. She looked at her neighbor in confusion, but her sight was beginning to dim. “What was that—”
Lisa grinned and backed away as Shannon slumped forward. Her last conscious thought was that John was going to be pissed.
*
A FRISSON OF unease chased across his shoulders as he lost sight of Shannon, but he couldn’t be distracted. He scanned everything he could out the front, but nothing moved. “Duncan, update.”
“Following a trail, no sign of Preston. Over.”
“Roger. Two rounds just hit the front of the house, originating due east. Over.”
“Roger. Trail goes in that direction.”
“Roger. Out.”
John fought to keep his own gun steady as he scanned the front yard, but he didn’t see shit. Frustration ate at him. He wanted to be the one tracking that trail and chasing down the bad guy. He glanced at the monitors, looking for movement. Lisa had her back to the bedroom camera and she was leaning over Shannon, who was sitting on the floor beside the bed. That frisson of unease turned into an all-out quake as he realized Shannon was slumped over, apparently unconscious. Lisa was binding her hands with something.
“Duncan! It’s Lisa. She’s got Shannon in the bedroom.”
He shoved his chair down the hallway as fast as he could, and slammed into the door knees first. The doorknob refused to turn, and he battered at the wood with his fists. “Lisa, don’t do this. She’s your friend. Lisa, Lisa!”
But there was no response. John shoved and pounded until his hands were bruised, but he couldn’t get the door to budge. In frustration, he blew out the door lock with his gun, but the door itself still didn’t budge. He screamed Shannon’s name, but he knew she wasn’t going to answer. “Duncan! Go to her bedroom window. They must be taking her out that way.”
“On it.”
Time completely stopped as he waited for some response from inside the room, but it was completely silent.
“Scanning. Multiple tracks outside her window heading away from the house. I think they’ve got her, John.”
John rocked back in his chair as if he’d been shot, unable to even begin to assimilate the loss he felt. For a moment his vision narrowed to a pinprick before stabilizing. “We have to find her,” he whispered. “We have to find her.”
He powered out to the monitors and rewound the last minute. Lisa, substantially bigger than Shannon, had actually picked her up enough to get her head and shoulders to the windowsill, then black-gloved hands reached in to pull her limp body through. John tried to narrow in on the window, but the stationary camera only caught the corner of the sill. The assailant outside pulled Shannon through the window, then Lisa followed them through. The room was motionless for ninety-six seconds, then Duncan dropped into the room. John watched him shove the bureau out of the way that had been barricading the door.
Duncan jogged into the living room, his eyes connecting with John’s in silent understanding. He dangled the tennis bracelet transmitter from his fingers. “This was on the floor beside the bed. But we’ll find her. Anything on the cameras we need to know about?”
John dragged his gaze from the bracelet and shook his head. He turned the chair toward the front door. “We need to get after them. Did you find Preston?”
“Yes. He’s groggy but getting his truck. He was darted with a tranquilizer. If he’d been smaller, like Shannon’s size, it would have knocked him out for a while.”
John skidded down the ramp, bumping into the front of Duncan’s truck. Preston’s Hummer idled beside it, and John maneuvered around to the passenger side. His disability had never frustrated him more than at that moment and he lifted himself into the seat and had to wait for Duncan to fold and pack away his chair. They were wasting precious time. As soon as he was inside, Duncan was on the phone with Denver PD, tracking down Officer Wilkins’ information.
Preston had blood running down the side of his neck, but he looked okay otherwise. Pissed, but okay. He accelerated out of the driveway and took two right turns, until they were in the alleyway behind Shannon’s house. Tracks were all over the snow, and they followed them out of the alley, then lost them when they got onto the cleared street.
“Which way?”
John wanted to scream in frustration. They were literally seconds behind the people that had taken Shannon, but there was no sign of them on the busy streets. He glanced at Duncan in the back seat, but he shrugged his shoulders and continued talking to whoever was on the other line.
“South.”
Preston turned left immediately in spite of oncoming traffic. Horns blared as he crossed the four-lane.
“Looking for a black Dodge Ram pick-up, Colorado plate Alpha Charlie Alpha six seven three. Address 450 Aspen Way, apartment 3B. PD has units out looking for him, and will meet us there.” Duncan snapped his phone closed and leaned forward between the seats. “We’re heading in the wrong direction.”
“Fuck.” Preston turned around and headed in the opposite direction, toward the apartment that had very little chance of having Shannon. The guy was a cop. John knew he wouldn’t be so stupid as to take her back to his own place. He’d have a backup plan in place, for just this type of occurrence.
John rubbed his eyes furiously and prayed that Shannon was okay.
Chapter Nine
‡
SHANNON’S HEAD WAS throbbing, and her shoulders ached with the cold. She knew something was wrong as soon as she came around, so she kept her eyes shut in the hopes that she would be undetected. She listened to the sound around her, but couldn’t distinguish what exactly she was hearing. There was a rattle and a bang, then silence for several seconds, then another rattle and bang. There was blinding light around her, she could tell, but she didn’t dare open her eyes just yet.
Surreptitiously, she wiggled her wrists. There was a little bit of room, but not a lot. Slitting her eyes open, she dared to peek around. It looked like she was in an old storage facility of some type, like what they used for big businesses.
“You can quit faking it now. I know you’re awake.”
Shannon shuddered again with cold, and opened her eyes in the blinding light. It was definitely a warehouse, but the thing was long past being usable. Vast arrays of glassless windows stretched out in front of her. Discarded boxes were scattered on the floor, and Denver PD Officer Jimmy Wilkins sat on one of those boxes, chewing a piece of beef jerky. Shannon knew deep down inside it was bad that he had allowed her to see him. She’d heard that somewhere before. Why bother hiding if there were going to be no witnesses?
“Officer.”
His handsome face twisted with regret. “Yeah, I think that may not apply to me anymore.”
Shannon levered herself up into a sitting position, folding her legs to the side. A lump beneath her left thigh reassured her that all was not lost. Now, how to get her hands free. She looked around the warehouse, surveying the black truck parked at the far end near a big overhead door and the tent set up just a few feet away. They appeared to be staying a while. “Where’s Lisa?”
Jimmy smiled, and continued to chew, but he didn’t answer her.
“Can you tell me why you did this? Is it because I brushed you off?”
Her captor tipped his head back and laughed. “Well, I have to admit—the fact that you would choose a gimp over me was pretty maddening.” Anger glinted in his eyes. “But I think things will end up in my favor in the end.”
“So, what are we waiting for, then?”
He surveyed her with steady, cold blue eyes, as if deciding how much information to feed her. “We’re waiting for Lisa. When she gets here, things will get interesting.”
Shannon shivered and wished she had something warmer on than a fleece and jeans. They’d draped a blanket over her where she’d been lying, but it had fallen away when she sat up. Sh
e almost wished she’d stayed lying down. Snow drifted in from a hole in the roof, and she found the source of the rattle and bang. A piece of the roof tin flipped up and down in the breeze. The third time it flipped up, she thought she saw a face peer through the hole. She glanced away quickly, and prayed her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her.
Jimmy chewed his way through the bag of beef jerky, watching her the entire time. Shannon tried to ask him questions, but he refused to answer anything else. Finally, she asked if she could go to the bathroom. Jimmy laughed out loud. “Sure. Go ahead.” Then he just sat and watched her. Obviously, there were no facilities, or if there were, he certainly wasn’t going to guide her to them.
Shannon gritted her teeth and fought off another cold shudder. “I’m cold. Can you wrap that blanket around me again?”
Jimmy didn’t move. Shannon gritted her chattering teeth and tried to decide if she had enough room to work her hands down around her butt. Maybe, just maybe. She shifted up onto her knees and worked her bound hands down over her hips. Jimmy watched her but didn’t say anything. Shannon worked her arms down the length of her legs and moved her feet through the circle of her arms until they were in front of her body. Holding the blanket in her hands, she whipped it around her shoulders and settled back Indian style on the floor.
With her hand on her ankle gun John had made her start to carry.
For the first time, tears came to her eyes. She now knew there was a chance she could save herself.
*
JOHN’S HEAD THROBBED. They were at the office, gathering intel. All the guys that were free had come in, which he appreciated, but it felt as if every one of them were looking to him for direction. And he didn’t know what to tell them. There’d been no ransom demands, or any communication at all, which scared him more than anything. If they asked for ransom, she was valuable. The fact that they hadn’t asked told him the kidnappers weren’t interested in money.
Duncan was on the line with Chief Quillen almost constantly, and each time they hung up he shared more learned information. Like the fact that Wilkins had been the one to take the call at the office, but no official report had been filed. And that Wilkins had been on the job less than a year, the same time Shannon had been in Denver. And Lisa Dixon’s information was a dead end. There was no Lisa Dixon in the DMV database. Quillen was working on obtaining a search warrant to go through her house, but it was leased through a realty company.
Clayton Williams reported back that he’d spoken with Gerbowski three times in three days, and though he was not forthcoming with information, on the third day he was suddenly very excited. Prison officials were going over the recorded inmate calls to try to narrow down whom he had talked to, but so far, nothing.
John was beside himself with fear for Shannon. But the fear fought with guilt, too. He’d trusted Lisa too easily and Shannon had paid the price. He paced up and down the hallway listening for the phones to ring, but it was eerily quiet.
*
SHANNON GLANCED AT the door long enough to see a beat-up old minivan pull into the warehouse. Lisa stepped out of the unfamiliar vehicle and grinned when she saw Shannon was awake.
“Oh, good. You came around. I was worried I’d given you too much.”
She set several bags on a workbench, then rummaged inside. Jimmy crossed to paw through it as well and pulled out a wrapped sandwich. He peeled back the plastic and took a huge bite, then spat the food on the floor. “I told you to get roast beef, not fucking ham.”
Lisa smiled sweetly at him. “It was all they had.”
Jimmy flung the sandwich across the space and bent to the bags again, pulling out a tube of Pringles. He crossed the concrete to sit on the boxes where he was before, crunching away.
Shannon kept him in her periphery but turned her gaze to Lisa.
“I thought you were my friend.”
Lisa snorted and shook her head. “That was not your first mistake.”
She swallowed. “So what was my first mistake?”
Her ex-friend turned around to lean against the bench, arms crossed over her chest. “You’re first mistake was stringing Michael along like you did. It’s been years and you’re still all he talks about.”
“That’s not my fault,” she protested, even as her mind reeled. This all came back to Gerbowski.
Lisa shrugged. “No, not really, but if I get rid of you he’ll get over you faster. Then that clears the way for me.”
Shannon shook her head at the injustice of it all. First she was stalked and now she was being blamed for it. “I’ve tried to get away. I haven’t spoken to him at all. If I could wipe myself from his mind I would.”
“I know, sweetie. I think getting rid of you is the only way to do it though.”
“Can’t you just tell him I died?” she pleaded. “We’ll find a newspaper article or something to back you up.”
Beneath the blanket she worked the handcuffs, trying to squeeze her hand through the iron loop. Her left hand had always been just a hair smaller, so she concentrated on it, but it was going to be impossible to get it through. She was dividing her attention between keeping the cuffs quiet and debating with Lisa, but Lisa had rationalized everything in her head to sound feasible. Shannon had to convince her otherwise.
“Just how do you think you’re going to get away with all this? My bosses have taken the case and they won’t stop until they find you.”
Lisa snorted and unwrapped a sandwich. She pulled the tomato from the middle and flung it away, then took a bite. She grimaced at something but swallowed it down. She ripped off the cap from a bottle of water and took a long swallow.
Shannon’s mouth watered with need and she opened her mouth before she thought. “Can I have a drink?”
Shit, shit, shit! I shouldn’t have called her over.
But Lisa just shook her head. “Nah. You don’t need a drink.” She giggled, her eyes dancing mischievously. Wilkins laughed with her and slid off the boxes to cross the floor. He pressed a kiss to her lips and tucked her hair behind her ear.
“You’re so mean,” he told her. “But I love this side of you.”
Lisa kissed him but her open eyes strayed to Shannon, obviously to monitor her reaction.
Shannon fought to keep her face smooth, but she was confused. Obviously Lisa was with Jimmy Wilkins, and Wilkins seemed to be okay with the fact that the entire situation they were in was so the way could be cleared for his girlfriend to be with another man.
Lisa pulled away from Jimmy and turned to Shannon, hands on her hips. “What are you thinking, neighbor, dear? That you were in my shoes, with two strong, vital men paying me attention? I have no idea what you see in that cripple.”
Shannon shook her head and looked away.
Lisa stamped her foot. “Look at me, you sanctimonious bitch!”
Shannon’s mouth fell open at the insult and her eyes snapped to Lisa’s angry face. “What have I ever done to you? I’ve only ever been your friend, and this is how you repay me?”
Lisa blinked and Shannon thought regret might have flashed across her face. “It doesn’t matter now. Michael is more important to me than any friendship. Any relationship.”
Shaking her head, Shannon looked away from her former friend, wondering why she bothered. Obviously, she wasn’t going to be around long.
*
AS HE REACHED the end of the conference room, John fought to keep himself from ramming into the wall, just for something to do. His arms quivered with a need to bash something. Instead he pivoted the chair and shoved himself to the other side of the room.
Wrapped around his fingers was the bracelet he had given Shannon days ago, with the transmitter inside. Useless.
They were flying blind with crazies in the cockpit. Obviously they wanted Shannon for themselves, otherwise ransom demands would have been made by now. His throat ached with the need to cry out at the unfairness of it all. He’d finally found his somebody, his person that he could connect to more than anyb
ody else, and she’d been snatched away.
When the phone rang on the desk on the far side of the room, he lunged for it. He snatched it up before any of the other extensions were lifted. “Palmer!”
There was a long beat of silence before a quiet, male voice came on the line. “Industry Parkway, the old Hartwell warehouse. You need to hurry.”
The line went dead.
John couldn’t turn the chair fast enough to the door. He scraped his knuckles on the doorjamb on the way out but ignored the pain as he yelled for Duncan. His buddy must have already been on his feet because he lunged out of the office, cane swinging.
John related what the caller had said, then immediately turned down the hallway. Everybody had gathered in the break room to await word and do what they could to help. He spat out the details and immediately began directing men. “Harper and Nashburg, I need eyes in the air around this building. I don’t care how you do it but you need to be ready. Grab a mic on the way out.” He searched the crowd for a mop of auburn hair. “Willet, I need every detail you can find me on that building. You’ve got, like, five minutes.”
The man took off running.
“Do we bring in the PD?” Roger asked.
John paused and glanced at Duncan. With a slight shake of his head, Duncan reinforced his own thoughts. “No. If it comes down to brass tacks they may not fire on one of their own.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the room, and for a moment John was overwhelmed with gratitude. Knowing they could be in the gray area of the law, all of these men were standing behind him.
Within just a few minutes, Willet had gathered enough information about the abandoned building in the oldest part of the industrial park to begin to plan a rushed maneuver. It had been seven minutes since the call, and he was sweating bullets that everything was taking too long. But, eventually, the plan was set. No one raised an eyebrow when he said he wanted to be there for the raid, though Duncan did caution him that the terrain could make it difficult. They didn’t know what would be on the ground. John shrugged his concerns away. He needed to be there for Shannon. Period.
