London Carter Boxed Set: Books 4 - 6

by BJ Bourg

  “I can show you what we have, but I have to warn you…I don’t know what I’m doing,” she said. “You can follow me to the security office.”

  I followed her through the kitchen—past fryers sizzling with savory seafood and their famous Southern fried chicken—and into a small private room that looked more like a panic room than a security office.

  “I’ve only messed with the system once and I think I screwed it up,” she said, maneuvering the mouse to point the cursor over the control panel and then selecting the remote playback feature. “I think this is what I’m supposed to do. The manager usually works the cameras but she’s out of town on vacation, so I’m stuck being in charge until she gets back. She showed me how to use it once, but…” She straightened and blew her blonde hair out of her eyes, trying to remember what she’d been shown. “Feel free to rescue me at any time if you know how to work this thing.”

  Before I could answer, another waitress appeared in the doorway and said she needed help right away. “We rang up the wrong order and charged this one family for a cheaper meal, and now they’re refusing to pay the full price.”

  “I’ve got this,” I said, stepping aside so she could squeeze by. “Go put out that fire.”

  “Just get whatever you need,” she said as she hurried out the door. “When I called, Mrs. Betty told me to let you have whatever footage you want.”

  I thanked her and went to work pulling up everything from Thursday evening. Although it was dark outside when the footage was captured, lights from the nearby businesses lit up the area like the daytime and it was easy to determine makes and colors of cars.

  Once I found the camera with the correct angle, it only took about five minutes longer to fast-forward through the footage and locate the red SUV—thanks to having the exact time from the Bestman’s Market cameras. I slowed the video and leaned close to the monitor, watching intently as the white truck came into view. It was directly behind the red SUV and there appeared to be two passengers, both in the front seat. Since I only had a view of the driver’s side from that vantage point, I couldn’t make out the back of the truck to get a license plate number.

  Wondering if it might be an out-of-state vehicle with a plate on the front, I scrolled through the cameras that faced Bestman’s Market and found one that was angled toward the gas pumps. Maneuvering to the correct time on the footage, I began playing the video and was able to watch the red SUV drive up to the pumps.

  “Wait a minute,” I mumbled, rewinding the video until right before the SUV turned in to the convenience store parking lot. As it was travelling from the south and heading north, it was following a white truck—the same white truck that let it out later. “If the white truck is in front of the Escalade in this video, but then later stops to let it out, that means it must have turned around and headed back south at some point.”

  Thinking I might be able to capture the license plate when it headed back south, I let the video play and leaned back to watch. There wasn’t much traffic at that time of night on any given day, and that made it a little easier to spot the correct white truck in a sea of white trucks. It seemed every other vehicle was a white truck, but most of them bore some kind of oil field company logo or the symbol for the Magnolia Parish Government, and that helped distinguish between them.

  When the correct truck drove into view, I paused the video and clicked the zoom button, selecting the back of the truck to magnify. When the frame was enlarged, I leaned close and studied the area where the license plate was supposed to be. There was a temporary tag and the numbers were faded. I scowled. Even if I could read the faded number, we couldn’t run temporary tags through our computer database, so it would be useless.

  I was about to exit the screen when something at the corner of the back bumper caught my eye. I could only see part of the image, so I exited out of the zoomed frame and selected the corner of the bumper to magnify. Once it was enlarged and I saw the image, I nearly choked on my tongue.

  In an instant, I realized what was going on and it made me sick to my stomach. I stood slowly to my feet, but had to grab the wall to steady myself. I felt dizzy. There were only two things they could want, and neither of them was good for Dawn.

  Shaking my head to clear it, I began to consider the implications of this revelation. My next move would have to be measured, but, before I did anything, I had to get in touch with Dawn right away and warn her.

  I pushed the door to the office shut and pulled out my phone, clicking on Dawn’s number as fast as my trembling fingers could find it. It took a lot to rattle me…and I was rattled.

  “Come on, answer your phone,” I pleaded, but the call went straight to voicemail. I dialed again, but it did the same. I searched for the text message I’d received from her earlier and scrolled to my response. It hadn’t been delivered. “My God, what if they’ve already caught her?”

  CHAPTER 23

  Somewhere in the Arkansas wilderness

  Dawn’s head pounded as she swayed back and forth on what felt like the washboard bumps of a truck’s bed. The rough surface dug into her shoulder, hip, and leg as she lay on her right side. She attempted to reach for her head with her left hand, but it was bound behind her back to her right hand. Wincing in pain, she forced her eyelids apart and looked around, trying to get her bearings.

  It was dark in the bed of the truck, but not because it was nighttime. She could see bright light bleeding through the cracks in the tailgate and it lit up the bed of the truck enough for her to see that it was covered with some type of hard case. There was nothing between her and the tailgate, but she sensed she wasn’t alone in the back of the truck.

  She was about to move when the truck hit a bump and her head bounced roughly against the bed, sending a sharp pain piercing through her skull. She groaned and rolled onto her back, allowing her eyes to close for a minute. When she opened them again, she completed the roll onto her left side and looked toward the front of the bed. She saw a dark figure lying there facedown and motionless. In the deep shadow of the bed, she couldn’t tell if it was her dad or Abel. Trying not to panic, she scooted closer to the figure, calling out to it. Her own body was blocking the little light that was shining from the tailgate, so she rolled onto her belly and turned her head to see. Finally, she was able to recognize the shape of her dad’s body and she let out a sigh of relief, but then tensed up again. She held her breath and studied his back closely, trying to see if he was breathing. She couldn’t tell if he was or wasn’t, and it scared the crap out of her.

  “Dad, are you okay?” she whispered, trying not to attract attention from the cab of the truck. When Evan didn’t respond, she started to kick him with her foot, but quickly realized they were also tied together. Wriggling closer to him, she nudged him with her knees. “Dad, can you hear me?”

  Evan stirred and mumbled something she couldn’t understand. When he moved, she could see a knot on his temple. Although he was injured, his throat hadn’t been slit and he was still alive.

  Nearly crying with relief, she twisted her body and stretched her arms until she was able to reach her front pocket. Using the very tips of her fingers, she felt for her phone, but then sighed when she remembered she had shoved it down the front of her pants. Taking a breath, she twisted and groaned, straining to get her hands around to the front of her pants, but it was no use. She dropped her aching head to rest for a minute.

  The truck continued to bounce up and down as they moved, but she had no idea in what direction they were heading. She also didn’t know what these men wanted with her, and that was worrisome. Once her neck muscles had relaxed, she scooted around and once again tried to maneuver her hands around to her belly so she could retrieve the phone, but it was no use. It was about as impossible as licking her elbow.

  She took another rest, but then turned toward her dad when she heard him groan. She scooted closer to him. “Dad, where are you hurt?”

  He mumbled something she couldn’t understand.

/>   “I can’t understand what you’re saying.” She moved even closer and put her ear close to his mouth. “Are you hurt?”

  “Water…I…I need water.” Evan’s voice was scratchy.

  “Just hang in there, Dad. I’m sure they’ll give you water whenever we stop.” Dawn fought the ropes around her wrists, but they wouldn’t budge. When she was a young cop, she’d spend countless hours escaping her own handcuffs by stepping backward through her cuffed hands, but she’d never tried it in such a cramped space. She’d also never tried it with both feet tied together. It would definitely have been easier to slip one foot at a time through her hands.

  But these are the cards I’ve been dealt, she thought, rolling to her side and taking a deep breath. After exhaling every bit of air in her lungs, she bent over and pushed her arms down against her hips, trying desperately to squeeze her butt through the small opening between her elbows. Her shoulders ached and her ribs felt like they were cracking, but she continued forcing her arms slowly and painfully downward along her hips. Just when she thought she couldn’t hold her breath any longer, her arms fell past her butt. She began desperately sucking in mouthful after mouthful of air, her lungs screaming in relief.

  After resting in that position for a minute, she rolled onto her back and took another deep breath. She exhaled and kicked up her knees to try and shove her feet over her hands, but her knees slammed against the hard case above her and stifled her attempt.

  Dawn dropped back to her side and rested a bit, and then tried it again. On this attempt, she almost got her feet through her hands, but the truck hit a large hole or rock and knocked her sprawling. She winced in pain and remained in that position as the truck jostled roughly about for a few minutes.

  Suddenly, her cell phone beeped between her legs to indicate she’d received a text message. We’re in range, she thought. I’ve got to get that phone now!

  She suddenly sprang into action, wrestling with her legs and arms, trying to get her hands in front of her. She was certain the message had been sent much earlier but hadn’t gone through until they’d just hit a cell tower. If they had left the mountains there would be no reason to hurry, but if they were just driving in and out of cell service, she would have to get to that phone before they left the service area.

  She finally managed to get her feet halfway over her hands, but they wouldn’t move any farther. “Come on!” she screamed, straining with all of her might. It was no use and she finally collapsed in exhaustion.

  As she lay there twisted in a knot, trying to catch her breath, her phone began to ring. London!

  Grunting and groaning, she jerked, twisted, and kicked, trying to force her feet through her hands. Her shoulders ached and her stomach felt pinched, but it was no use. The heels of her boots were stuck against the ropes.

  “Come on, damn it!” she hollered, giving one final push, but it was no use—she couldn’t get it past the ropes. The phone stopped ringing and she collapsed in defeat. “No!”

  CHAPTER 24

  As I stood there staring at the enlarged image of a bumper sticker that depicted a dog peeing on the White House, my phone made a “zooping” noise. I glanced at the screen and realized my text message had finally been delivered to Dawn’s phone. They were out of the mountains!

  I quickly called her number again and it began to ring. I paced back and forth in the small room, telling her to answer the phone. It rang nearly a dozen times, but she didn’t answer. I hung up when it went to voicemail and immediately called back. This time, it went straight to voicemail, as though it had been turned off.

  “What the hell?” I glanced at the screen and hit the redial button. Straight to voicemail. I then tried sending another text message telling her the same men who tried to assassinate the vice president were after her, but it got stuck in the send mode.

  I nodded, finally understanding what was taking place. I’d driven through the Smoky Mountains before and had traveled in and out of cell service. I imagined the mountains of Arkansas had spotty service as well, and she was probably moving in and out of range of the cell towers. I was a little relieved that she was moving, but I knew I needed to get a message to her or I needed to get my ass to Arkansas to check on her. The only problem? It would take me ten hours to get there and a lot could happen in ten hours.

  There was no doubt in my mind this was the same truck the Secret Service and FBI were looking for, which meant Dawn was in real trouble, and it was all my fault for getting involved with her. But what were the men planning to do once they found her? In my view, they had two options, and both of them scared the hell out of me.

  I quickly downloaded the video clips of what I’d found and hurried toward the exit. The waitress who had helped me hollered a goodbye, but I didn’t even acknowledge her. I had to get to the criminal operations center to figure this out and I didn’t have any time to waste.

  A thought occurred to me as I approached the door and I came to an abrupt stop. Standing to the side, I eased the door open and peered outside, searching the rooftops of the nearby buildings. If the group that had attempted to assassinate the vice president wanted retribution for their foiled plot, it would make more sense for them to send someone after me. And maybe that was their plan—dangle Dawn as bait in order to draw me into their trap. I grunted. I would gladly walk into a deadly trap if it meant keeping Dawn safe, but I guessed something more sinister was taking place.

  When I was sure there were no snipers hiding along the neighboring skyline, I hurried to my truck and headed south along Highway Three. I didn’t know what I would do once I got to the criminal operations center, but I had to figure out a plan to keep Dawn safe. As I drove, I called her phone several more times, but it kept going straight to voicemail. Once I arrived at the bureau, I checked the latest text message I’d sent Dawn, but it hadn’t been delivered.

  I shut off my engine and walked into the detective bureau. Sitting at my desk, I shoved the jump drive containing the video surveillance footage into the USB port and accessed the files to watch the videos again. As I played them, I wondered if I should contact Secret Service Agent Ross Buckner (Spider) and send him the information I’d uncovered. If my gut feeling was correct, I couldn’t have them trampling around this investigation, because it could get Dawn killed.

  I was still sitting there trying to decide whether or not to involve the feds when I remembered Dawn had a friend from Mountainburg, Arkansas—a Detective Tricia Clark. She had assisted Dawn and Detective Brandon Berger on a murder case a long time ago, and she and Dawn had kept in close contact over the years. I’d met her once when she came down to visit, and she seemed like a standup person. Maybe she could ride out to Dead Man’s Canyon and deliver a message to Dawn.

  Filled with renewed hope and energy, I found the number for the Mountainburg Sheriff’s Office and made the call.

  CHAPTER 25

  In the bed of a pickup truck, somewhere in the Arkansas wilderness

  Dawn watched closely as her dad began to regain full awareness. His eyes opened wide and he stared wildly about. He saw Dawn and gasped. “Are you okay? Your nose looks broken.”

  Dawn wriggled her nose from side to side and winced. “Yeah, it hurts quite a bit.”

  “Those bastards.” Evan shook his head and glanced around their tight quarters. “Where are we? What’s going on?”

  Her arms and shoulders aching from the position in which she found herself stuck, and feeling a little embarrassed, Dawn scowled. “It looks like we’re in the back of a pickup truck and it feels like we’re on a desolate mountain road. It’s definitely not paved and we’ve hit a lot of bumps along the way.”

  Evan tugged on the ropes that secured his hands behind his back and glanced toward his feet, which were also bound. “What do these people want from us?”

  “I don’t know,” Dawn said. “Can you get loose?”

  Evan struggled for a while, trying to force his hands free, but he finally relaxed and shook his head. “T
hey’re too tight. Apparently these guys know a thing or two about knots.”

  When Evan asked Dawn why she was in such an awkward position, she explained what she had tried to do. “I can’t get back to where I was and I can’t get past this point,” she complained. “I’ve been stuck like this for nearly an hour and it’s starting to suck—”

  Dawn’s voice was cut off when the truck hit a bump and swerved violently to the right, then the left, tossing her and Evan roughly around the bed. As the back of the truck whipped back around to the right, she was thrown against the sidewall of the bed and her legs snapped through the ropes. She gave a jubilant cry when she pulled her hands in front of her body.

  Scrambling onto her back, she sucked in air and shoved her bound hands down the front of her pants and struggled to pull the phone from her panties. It took a bit of work, but she finally managed to get it out and hold it above her head. Careful not to drop it, she checked the screen and saw a message alert. A wave of emotion flooded over her when she saw the message was from London. She could only read the first few lines, but it said something about him calling her after he looked at surveillance tapes and then there was a line telling her to be on the look-out, but she couldn’t read what she was supposed to be on the look-out for.

  “It could be anything from an antique dresser to Big Foot,” she mused aloud, wondering if his message was a warning for what was happening now. What if he had messaged her to tell her to look-out for these men? If it was a warning, it was a bit late.

  She pressed the start button on her phone to read the whole message, but the truck hit a bump and the phone went flying through the air. “Damn it!”