London Carter Boxed Set: Books 4 - 6

by BJ Bourg

  “That’s close enough, Abel,” Dawn said, keeping her voice low. “What the hell do you want?”

  “These men…they want some guy named London Carter—your partner—to assassinate the vice president. If he doesn’t do it, they’re going to kill you.” Abel got choked up. “I…I think they’re going to kill me, too, if he doesn’t do what they tell him to do.”

  “Of course they’ll kill you, too, you dumbass.” Dawn snorted, but then groaned as pain shot through her nose and caused her eyes to smart. “What did you think would happen? That you would lead them to me and they would just let you go? That you guys would be besties? Maybe go for long walks on the beach?”

  “Shush!” Abel turned to look over his shoulder. “They’re going to hear you.”

  “Look, the only way you can survive this thing is if you help get me loose,” Dawn said. “I need one of their handcuff keys. These guys are ruthless and I need to take them out before they kill all of us.”

  “No, they said they’ll let you go if this guy kills the vice president, so you’ve just got to make sure he goes through with it. I heard Bruce say he was going to let you talk to the guy—”

  “First off, his name is London. Second, even if London kills her, we’re all dead anyway.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t you watch the news? Didn’t you hear about the assassination attempt last week?” Although Dawn couldn’t see Abel in the dark, she could sense the blank look on his face. “They brutally murdered two women and two small girls even though their subjects agreed to kill the VP.”

  “Oh, God, we’re all going to die!”

  Dawn wasn’t ready to die, but she wasn’t about to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her scared—especially Abel. “Get a hold of yourself, man. And if you won’t set me free, get the hell out of this room.”

  Dawn must’ve raised her voice too loud, because she heard her dad stir from the opposite side of the room. He was also chained to the floor. While Bruce and his men hadn’t roughed Evan up as badly as they’d roughed her up, he was in poor health and didn’t have any of his medicine with him, so he was in grave danger. Every time his chains rattled Dawn breathed a silent sigh of relief, because it meant he was still alive.

  Suddenly, a voice boomed from across the cabin. “Where’s that little rat bastard?”

  Abel gasped and whirled around, hurrying out the door.

  “What the hell were you doing in there?”

  Dawn wasn’t positive, but it sounded like the man named Lenny who asked the question.

  “I…I wasn’t in the room,” Abel said, stammering. “I was using the bathroom.”

  Hard boots pounded angrily toward the room. Before Dawn could react, the lights came on and blinded her. She squinted against the brilliance and could make out Lenny standing by the door. A pistol was tucked into his waistband and his knife was poised, ready to strike. She yearned to get her hands on either of his weapons.

  Evan grunted and tried to sit up, but fell back to the ground when the chains became taut. “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Shut up and go back to sleep, old man,” Lenny said gruffly. He flipped the lights off and walked away. His boots echoed down the hallway and through what sounded like the living room. Dawn heard the spring from a screen door squeal and she knew he had gone out onto the front porch.

  “What was that all about?” Evan asked from his corner of the room.

  Dawn explained what Abel had said.

  “Do you think he’ll actually go through with it?” Evan asked. “London, that is.”

  Dawn chewed on her lower lip, deep in thought. The London she knew would never kill an innocent person, but he’d made a comment to her one night that left her wondering. It was in the winter while visiting her family. She and London had climbed a mountain ridge late one night and they’d had sex under the stars. As they were lying there looking up at the sky, he’d told her he would die for her without hesitation.

  “But that really means nothing,” he’d said after a moment of silence. “It’s hollow.”

  “What do you mean?” she had asked. “The Bible says something about there being no greater love than to lay down your life for someone else.”

  “I’d die for a complete stranger—and so would you.” He’d rolled onto his side and stared at her in the moonlight. “How many times have you risked your life for other people on the job? Too many to count—and they were perfect strangers. So, when I say I’d die for you, it’s meaningless, because I’d die for a stranger.”

  He’d rolled onto his back again and folded his hands behind his head. After staring up into the night air in deep thought, he’d finally nodded his head. “I know what I’d do for you that I wouldn’t do for a stranger or anyone else in this world.”

  “What’s that?” she’d asked.

  “I’d murder someone for you. That’s how much I love you.”

  At the time, that comment had made her feel special and loved. But now, she was filled with dread. What if he actually meant what he said?

  CHAPTER 33

  Bent Fork, Arkansas

  Patrick Stanger nodded solemnly as Tricia introduced him to Darby and Priscilla. Priscilla was wrapped in a faded and tattered nightgown and her face was twisted in concern.

  “In Heaven’s name, what is going on?” she asked. “And what is this man doing here?”

  “I’m here to bring your husband and daughter home, ma’am,” Patrick explained. “But first, I need to look around Dawn’s room to see if it’ll yield any clues.”

  “Clues to what, exactly?” Darby demanded. “What’s going on? Why won’t you people tell us anything?”

  Ignoring Darby and leaning forward to look directly into Priscilla’s eyes, Patrick asked, “Do you trust London?”

  Her face softened a little. “Of course, I trust him. I’ve seen him with Dawn. He loves her very much.”

  “Well, London sent me here to find Dawn. He can’t come himself, because he’s tending to another important element of this issue. I know you have a lot of questions, but I implore you to be patient and let me do my job. Once everything is over, you’ll understand the secrecy.”

  Tricia approached Priscilla and put a hand on her forearm. “I don’t know exactly what’s going on either, but I know it’s really important that this man is allowed to do his job. So, if you don’t mind—”

  “Wait a minute,” Darby said. “You can’t expect us to just sit here and give you everything you want while giving us nothing in return.”

  Patrick began to feel his patience waning. Every second he spent arguing with these people could be the very second Dawn lost her life. He turned to Darby. “Look, I’m very good at what I do. That’s why London brought me down here. He loves your sister and he wants to make sure she gets home safe.”

  “What’s that even mean?” Darby countered. “Safe from what?”

  “That’s all I’m at liberty to say.”

  Darby turned and stormed toward a phone hanging from the wall. “That’s it—I’m calling the cops.”

  Before he could lift the handset, Patrick had reached him and jerked him around by the arm. Sneering, Patrick grabbed Darby’s ear and pulled his face close. “If you call anyone and tell them we’re here, I’m going to bury you in a shallow grave and piss on it. Do I make myself clear?”

  Darby gulped and nodded. His eyes were wide and his chin trembled.

  Tricia stepped between the two men and Patrick sighed, releasing Darby’s ear. “Sorry, kid,” he mumbled. “I just don’t have time for this shit.”

  “Darby, leave them to their business,” Priscilla said. “I know you want to protect your sister, but I believe them when they say they’re here for the same reason.”

  Darby’s face was pale and he only nodded.

  Patrick forced a smile. He couldn’t see it, but he knew it wasn’t pleasant. “Darby’s your name, right?”

  Darby nodded again, but didn�
��t say a word.

  “Why don’t you show me to Dawn’s room, Darby?”

  Patrick could see Darby watching him from the corner of his eyes as he led the way to Dawn’s room. Once they were inside, Patrick closed the door and inspected the place. There was a desk in the corner and a bed against one wall. A pair of tiny jean shorts was draped over the chair in front of the desk. He grunted, as he remembered meeting Dawn in Magnolia Parish. She was fit enough to squeeze into those shorts, so he was guessing they belonged to her.

  After sifting through the items on the desktop, Patrick walked to the closet. He moved some clothes to the side and arched an eyebrow when he saw a shotgun leaning against the corner. There was also one spent shotgun shell casing on the floor and several live bullets scattered about. “What’s this about?” he asked.

  “That was a long time ago.” Darby sighed. “My dad wasn’t always the nicest man.”

  Patrick sifted idly through the clothes in the closet as Darby recounted an incident where Dawn almost killed her dad.

  “I knew the girl was feisty the first time I laid eyes on her,” Patrick said. “She threatened to kill my employer’s youngest son if my employer didn’t drop his weapon.” He nodded for emphasis. “Yep, she’s definitely got some fire in her gut.”

  Once he was satisfied the closet didn’t have anything useful to offer, he moved to a wastebasket next to the desk and glanced inside. There was a single piece of crumpled paper at the bottom. He fished it out and unfolded it. He began reading aloud.

  “Dear Dawn, I put all of my savings together and bought a used van that runs great. It’s a four-wheel-drive and it’ll take us wherever we want to go. As you know, the van life is the way to go nowadays.

  “If you come away with me, I’ll show you the adventures of a lifetime. We’ll climb every day if we want and we won’t be tied down to any one place. Whenever we get tired of the scenery, we’ll just fire up the van and drive to a new and more beautiful location. We can see the mountains of Colorado, the beaches of California, the orange canyons in Utah…”

  Patrick stopped reading and grunted, scanning to the end of the letter. “Who’s this romantic joker who wants to live in a van?”

  “That would be Abel Chism.”

  Sure enough, that was the name at the end of the sappy letter. “And who is Abel Chism?”

  “He’s some guy Dawn used to date when she was young and foolish,” Darby explained. “She had a little trouble with him last year when she was down visiting.”

  “What happened?”

  “She had to put him on his ass for grabbing her.”

  Patrick’s brow furrowed in thought. “Does this Abel Chism know the mountains near Dead Man’s Canyon well?”

  “Like the back of his hand. It’s his playground.”

  “Where can I find him?”

  “He hangs out at Charmaine’s Burgers and Beer.”

  “Do you know where he lives?”

  “No, but someone at Charmaine’s will.”

  Patrick nodded. “How do I get there?”

  CHAPTER 34

  Charmaine’s Burgers and Beer, Arkansas

  It was nearly seven in the morning when Patrick pushed his way through the door at Charmaine’s. The place was crowded with people wearing all types of athletic climbing wear. Most of the girls wore skin-tight leggings and tank-tops, and most of the guys wore loose-fitting cargo pants with Dri-Fit shirts.

  A cute waitress walked up to Patrick and asked him if he wanted a cup of coffee while waiting to be served.

  “I don’t need food,” he said. “I’m just looking for a friend of mine. I met him rock climbing back in Colorado a few years back. We lost touch over the years and I’d like to reconnect. His name’s Abel.”

  “Abel hasn’t been in here since Saturday. He took some guys out climbing. Of course, they didn’t look much like climbers, but they said they wanted to try it.”

  “Damn.” Patrick pursed his lips in feigned disappointment. “Do you know where I might find them? I’m only in town for a couple of days and Abel would really hate it if I came by and didn’t stop to see him.”

  “You can try his place. He’s starting up his own climbing school, so they might have run some routes there.” She brushed back a tuft of sweaty hair. “Do you know how to find his land?”

  When Patrick said he didn’t, she gave him directions and he hurried out into the crowded shell parking lot. After jumping in the truck he’d borrowed from Tricia—with a promise to bring it back in one piece and without scratches—he dug out the map she’d given him. He unfolded it across the seat beside him and searched until he located Charmaine’s restaurant on the map. He then traced out the directions the waitress had given him until he located the property that belonged to Abel. Circling Abel’s property, he then located Dead Man’s Canyon and followed the route on the map that Tricia had taken until she lost the vehicle on County Road 2136.

  “Damn, they’re heading to Abel’s property,” Patrick mused aloud, noting that County Road 2136 cut clear across the mountains and led to Abel’s property. “I could be on to something.”

  Leaving the map on the seat beside him, Patrick pulled onto the highway and headed west. He hadn’t traveled a mile from the burger joint when his satellite phone rang. It was London.

  “How you holding up, brother?” Patrick asked when he answered.

  “As best I can.” London’s voice sounded strained, which was unusual for him. “Are you getting anywhere?”

  Patrick told him about the note he’d found in Dawn’s wastebasket and how it had led him to the restaurant. “This Abel character took some guys out climbing Saturday and he hasn’t been seen since. This could be our guy.”

  London was quiet on the other end for a few seconds. Finally, he said, “I don’t know about this Abel fellow. From the way Dawn described him, he’s just some rock climbing fool who wanted to live in a van and climb rocks all day. I doubt he’s smart enough to be involved with these men.”

  “Tricia said whoever took Dawn knew the area better than she did, so they might’ve recruited this guy to be their guide. And this waitress told me Abel took some strangers out climbing. She said they didn’t look like climbers.” Although London couldn’t see him, Patrick shrugged. “There’s a good chance we’ve got something here and it’s possible this kid didn’t know what he was getting himself into. Maybe he just agreed to help for the money.”

  “I guess you’re right. He could still be angry at Dawn for kicking his ass at that diner.”

  “Either way, he’s our best shot at the moment—and the trail Tricia was following leads in the direction of his land.”

  After a brief pause, London told Patrick that he had applied for an emergency trace on Dawn’s phone. “I’m waiting to hear back from the phone company. I had to leave her name off of the warrant in case these guys have moles in the sheriff’s office.”

  Patrick drove by a street name that he recognized from the map. The next road would be the one that led to Abel’s house. It was at least eight miles long, but Patrick wouldn’t be driving straight to the cabin. That would be too conspicuous.

  “I’ve got to ditch this truck and hump up to Chism’s cabin,” Patrick said. “Send me Dawn’s cell coordinates when you get them.”

  When they’d ended the call, Patrick pulled onto the shoulder of the road and studied the highway, scanning both directions slowly and carefully. The bright morning sun was trying hard to break through the thick veil of trees above and around him, but to no avail. It was still dark enough to require headlights, and he detected nothing coming in either direction.

  When he was satisfied he was alone on the highway, he drove straight into the forest—dodging trees and large rocks—until he found a bush large enough to conceal one side of the truck. He unloaded his drag bag and ghillie suit and set them aside while he chopped large branches to cover the other side of the truck.

  Once the truck was hidden, he painted his face and
prepped his ghillie suit. While the pattern of his ghillie suit matched the Arkansas wilderness well, he needed it to look more authentic, so he collected some of the natural vegetation and carefully blended it into his suit and drag bag. It was painstaking work, but necessary. He couldn’t risk being detected. If these men saw him, they would kill Dawn immediately and find another patsy to carry out their plan.

  Finally satisfied with his work, he slid into his ghillie suit and slung his drag bag over his shoulder. He turned down the volume on his satellite phone and set out into the thick underbrush, heading for what he hoped would be the lion’s lair. If he was wrong about this hunch, he would have wasted so much time that it would be almost impossible to make up the difference. London would have to do some serious stalling on his end, and that could be risky.

  “You’d better be right about this, son,” Patrick said softly to himself. “You owe it to London.”

  CHAPTER 35

  Detective Bureau, Payneville, Louisiana

  I was still sitting at my desk waiting for the phone company to call when the door to the bureau opened. I stood and looked over the cubicle wall just as Rachael walked in pulling off her sunglasses. She glanced over at me and stopped in her tracks.

  “You look like shit,” she said. “Did you sleep here?”

  After thinking about it for a second, I realized I hadn’t had a wink of sleep. “It was a long night. I was working this case.”

  Rachael walked around the cubicles and plopped on my desk. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she was wearing dark slacks and a white shirt. “What kind of case?”

  “A burglary and then an arson. They kept me busy, that’s for sure.” I rubbed my face and turned away, wanting to avoid an extended conversation. I didn’t want her asking too many probing questions and force me to reveal that something was amiss. I needed everyone to believe things were normal, but I didn’t want to lie to them. I worked with these people every day and we needed to trust each other. “I guess I’ll head in and get some sleep—”