“It’s out of my hands, bro. Zeke called it in to 911 as a drug overdose. Cops have already investigated the scene. You’ll be looking at drug charges at the very least.”
The charges would be a lot more than just drug related, but he couldn’t divulge that detail. Zeke had grabbed Rafe’s belongings when the ambulance brought him here and the police had already seized them.
Stacks of cash had been found inside.
Now that Zander knew where it came from, he was pretty sure the bills weren’t all genuine.
Rafe deflated against the mattress and swore. “Help me get outta here. I gotta get outta here.”
“You want me to lose my job? Be brought up on charges for aiding and abetting?” The fact that Rafe would even ask such a thing cut like a dull knife to the chest.
“Tell ‘em I cold-cocked you. Or that I got away while you were in the john. You’ll come up with somethin’.” Desperation weighted Rafe’s every word.
“Dude, I can’t. You know I’d do most anything for you, but I can’t help you this time.”
“Right.” The word dropped like a grenade. “‘Cause now you’re all super religious and stuff.”
Yikes. This wasn’t going the way he’d hoped. “No. Because it’s the right thing to do. The badge comes with more than a gun and a title. It carries responsibilities.”
Rafe’s eyes flicked from him to the door, probably contemplating if he could push past Zander and get away.
If he wasn’t strapped to the bed, it might work. Unfortunately for Rafe, those straps guaranteed he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
“But if you help us, I bet they’ll cut you a deal.” Not to mention, he’d be doing the right thing. Although the right thing had never been much of a motivation for Rafe.
“I could also get a longer sentence.”
“You’re a small player in this. They’ll want the big fish, not you. Besides, it’ll be a lot worse if the truth comes out later and you didn’t help. And this guy,” he jabbed his finger at Tobias Long, “works at the prison. How long do you think you’ll last in there if he’s still free?”
He probably shouldn’t have told him that, but he needed to get Rafe to see things clearly.
Rafe’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard. “He’s a guard?”
“Not just any guard. A supervisor.” He let the words settle for a second before continuing, “If he’s still a free man, I can’t protect you in there.”
“I don’t wanna go to prison. I’ll do rehab. Clean up. Just don’t let ‘em lock me up.” Rafe’s voice choked.
“Dude, if there was anything I could do…”
“You could help me get outta here! Now. Before someone comes.”
If only he could. “You’d be running for the rest of your life. That’s no way to live. You gotta face this. But you can help yourself by helping us.”
“You think I can get off? If I testify? Maybe just community service or something?”
Unlikely. Zander shook his head. “That’ll be between your attorney and the DA.”
While he didn’t want to offer false hope, he also didn’t want to discourage Rafe from doing the right thing. He needed Rafe to choose to do the right thing. Forcing it would flush thirty years of friendship down the drain.
Rafe sighed. “What do you need me to do?”
“I’ll have to arrange for you to talk to someone else. I can’t be a part of this investigation.” He rose. “Let me make some calls. You okay by yourself?”
A scowl twisted Rafe’s lips. “I’m not gonna run, okay? You can stop worrying.”
“I was actually referring to the guy who wants you dead.” Although the running thing had crossed his mind, too. “I’ll be right outside the door, so no one will get in without me seeing, okay?”
Rafe’s face relaxed. “Thanks, man.”
Stepping into the hallway, Zander closed the door behind him. Time to call his boss.
Then he’d call Bethany and let her know that this nightmare was almost over.
₪ ₪ ₪
Bethany’s phone vibrated. She jerked in the hard plastic chair outside the principal’s office, where she’d spent the last ten minutes waiting for the principal to finish conducting an interview.
She pulled it out of her pocket. Zander’s name popped up on the display.
Had he found an identity?
She wanted to answer it, but the office was as quiet as a library and the receptionist had already shot her a dirty look for sneezing.
She could always step outside. But what if the principal finished the interview while she was gone? She didn’t want to miss her opportunity to talk to the principal.
The call went to voicemail before she could make a firm decision.
Okay, then. She’d call him back as soon as she finished here.
What if it was urgent? Maybe she should step outside and call him now.
She stared at the phone.
If it was urgent, surely he’d call right back, wouldn’t he?
A voicemail notification popped up at the same time that the door to the principal’s office opened.
She slid her phone back in her pocket. That settled it.
She’d call him back later.
₪ ₪ ₪
Tobias sat up straighter as Bethany Summers exited the school.
‘Bout freakin’ time. She’d been in there for an hour.
She paused on the sidewalk to fiddle with her phone, then headed north with the phone pressed to her ear.
Probably headed to the bus stop two blocks down.
He started his car and pulled onto the road, turning into an alley between Bethany and the bus stop.
Killing the engine, he reached for the paper bag with the syringe.
It was time to move. And this time, she wouldn’t get away.
Twenty Three
“Did you get my message?” The urgency in Zander’s greeting slowed her steps.
Oops. She probably should’ve taken the time to listen to Zander’s message before calling him back. “I haven’t listened to it yet. I wanted to call you right back.”
Right back? She knew at least twenty minutes had passed since Zander had called. Maybe more.
An engine roared past her.
A flashy yellow Camaro turned into an alley up the street.
Pretty fancy car. Especially for this neighborhood. A drug deal?
The thought lit a fire under her feet. If there was a drug deal going down, she didn’t want to be anywhere around it.
She had enough trouble.
“Where are you?” Zander’s question evidenced that he’d also heard the car engine.
“JJ’s school. I needed to turn in his homework and talk to the principal. I’d really like to get him back into school and I know it’s the best thing for him–”
“Bethany.” He spoke her name forcefully. “Listen to me. We have a suspect. A guard at the prison. I need you to get back to the boat and wait for me there.”
A suspect. A guard.
Would anyone even believe her? Or would he be above suspicion?
Right now, it didn’t matter. What mattered was getting somewhere safe.
A buzz filled her head.
“Bethany?”
She shook the fog away. “Yes. I’m headed to the bus stop now.”
Her step faltered as she crossed the drug-dealing alley. While she wanted to look, she forced herself to stay focused ahead. If there was a deal going down, she could get shot for seeing something. Better to see nothing at all.
A sharp pain stabbed her neck. She jerked to a halt.
“Ow.” The word slipped out, even as the brief prick faded.
Bee sting?
She slapped at her neck, but felt nothing.
“Bethany? You okay?”
“Uh, yeah.” She rubbed her neck, which was starting to throb. “I think I was stung by a bee.”
She started walking again. “So, this supervisor, is someone headed to
his house? To arrest him?”
Two steps, then the world tilted.
She froze, waiting for the world to right itself. But it didn’t. Instead, it felt like she’d climbed on a roller coaster doing corkscrews.
Zander was saying something, but the words came through a tunnel.
Blackness edged her vision.
She tried to speak, but her tongue felt funny.
Movement in her peripheral.
A shadowy figure emerged, but her eyes refused to focus.
Not a bee sting.
The thought slammed into her mind, but refused to go any further.
“Zanderrrr.” The word slurred from her.
Her knees buckled.
Firm hands clamped onto her waist, dragging her into the alley.
Zander’s voice receded. Darkness engulfed her.
₪ ₪ ₪
“Bethany?” The word came out louder than Zander intended, earning him a sharp glance from a nurse down the hall.
Whatever. This could be life or death.
“Zanderrrr.”
Scuffling came across the line, followed by a loud clatter.
“Bethany? What’s happening?”
No response.
More background noise, then the line went dead.
A weight settled over him. Not good. Not at all.
He called her back.
The phone rang several times before going to voicemail.
Another attempt yielded the same result.
Something had happened. If he had to guess, he’d bet that she hadn’t been stung at all. She’d been drugged.
Probably by the same man who killed James, the same man whose image lingered on the screen of his laptop.
Why hadn’t he told her to go back inside the school to wait for him?
He had to get someone out there immediately. Just in case she was still in the area.
Because if that man took her somewhere else, her odds for survival plummeted.
₪ ₪ ₪
Bethany!
Zeke shot out of his chair, momentarily forgetting the three kids sitting at the table with him.
Visions flashed in front of him like the images Bethany’s kids watched on that box they called a TV.
A man. Shaved head. Tight red shirt. Black pants.
Shoving Bethany into the trunk of a car the color of a ripe banana.
She wasn’t fighting back. Why wasn’t she fighting back?
Was she dead?
No. The Father’s voice whispered. Not yet.
Yet. Which meant she might be soon, if he didn’t do something about it.
Pray.
The urge took him to his knees before he realized that Bethany’s kids were staring at him as though he’d lost his mind.
To them, it probably looked like he had. But he knew something he could never share with them.
He could get them praying with him, however.
There was something powerful about the simple faith of a child’s prayer.
He forced a smile he didn’t feel. “I’m going to pray for your mom. Would you all like to pray with me?”
Becca and Pete enthusiastically joined him on the floor. JJ followed a little more slowly.
Probably wondering what was going on. He was old enough to know this wasn’t normal.
Zeke captured their small hands in his.
The prayers inside him would scare the kids to death. He’d have to filter his words carefully.
Good thing the Father knew his thoughts.
“Ah, Sovereign Lord. We come to you, asking you to hold Bethany close to Your heart…”
₪ ₪ ₪
“Just get a uniform down here to guard the door so I can help you.” Zander ground out the words, trying not to sound as frustrated as he felt. How many times did he have to tell Morgan that Rafe was not only a flight risk, but also a target?
“Kid, I’ve already got someone coming, so calm down.” Morgan sounded as irritated as he felt.
“I’ll meet you at the scene.”
Ending the call, he clutched his phone and leaned back against the wall outside Rafe’s room.
Every fiber of him wanted to be out there, trying to find Bethany, not stuck in the hospital babysitting his friend who was starting to exhibit symptoms of withdrawal.
He’d let Bethany down.
Logically, he knew he couldn’t cover her twenty-four-seven, but it grated that a killer had snatched her off the street while she was talking to him.
Down the hall, the elevator dinged and a uniform stepped off.
Finally.
Didn’t matter that the officer had gotten here in record time, it still felt too long.
He started as the phone vibrated in his hand.
Zeke.
He accepted the call. “Man, this really isn’t a good time. I’ve got…”
“I know.” Zeke’s voice contained a tightness that Zander had never heard in it before. “Bethany’s in trouble.”
The words settled in Zander’s mind. “What do you know?”
“I had a vision. The man who attacked us has her. He’s driving a bright yellow car.”
Bright yellow. That should help narrow it down. “What kind of car?”
“I don’t know.”
Great. The color took the options down from several million to a few thousand. Still too many for him to…
Wait. He knew who had Bethany. Surely if he checked DMV records, he’d find the information on the car and could put out a BOLO, right?
The officer stopped beside him. Zander nodded at him but kept his attention on Zeke. “Anything else?”
“She was…” Zeke pulled in a breath. “Unresponsive.”
“Drugged. I was on the phone with her when it happened.”
“Thank God. The Father told me she wasn’t dead, but she was so still. I didn’t know what to think.”
“You doubted what…” Zander’s gaze slid to the officer standing a few feet away. “…He told you?”
The silence lasted a beat too long. “I did, didn’t I?”
Neither of them had to answer that one.
Zander felt time slipping away. “Look, I need to go. If you… hear anything, let me know.”
“You know I will.”
Terminating the call, Zander turned to the officer. After giving the officer a brief update and strict instructions, he strode down the hall.
Time to get out of here. He just hoped they reached Bethany before it was too late.
₪ ₪ ₪
“Wake up!”
Light stinging tingled across her cheeks.
A moan slipped from Bethany’s lips.
Her head felt like it was made out of marble. What was going on?
Something hit her cheek. Not too hard, but with enough force to move her head.
Of course, given that her neck had the strength of a wet paintbrush, that wouldn’t take much.
Foul language punctuated the air. “I said wake up!”
She forced open heavy eyelids, wincing at the florescent lights blazing overhead.
Where was she? The last thing she remembered was talking to Zander… a bee sting… feeling dizzy…
Her breathing quickened. She wasn’t stung. She’d been drugged.
A face swam into view. Shaved head, beady eyes, thin lips curled into a scowl.
It was the man who’d attacked her! He had her!
Her body screamed orders.
Get up! Fight back! Run!
Her leaden limbs refused to obey any of them.
All she could do was twitch on the hard floor beneath her.
Not even when he reached a meaty hand toward her could she get her body to move.
He grabbed a handful of her hair and jerked her upright.
A small cry slipped from her, bringing a gleam in his light blue eyes.
“They know… who you are.” Her voice sounded foreign. Weak, breathy, fearful.
He smirked. “That a fact.”
“Yes.” Her thoughts cleared enough for her to recall what Zander had said. “You’re a guard. At the prison. That’s how you knew James.”
The smirk vanished, fire flashing in his blue eyes.
At least now he believed her. But would that help save her life? “What do you want from me?”
“You’re gonna help me crack James’ password.”
“P–Password?”
“Yeah. He took somethin’ that wasn’t his and you’re gonna help me get it back.”
Something? It had to be money, right?
But if James had access to money, what was he doing living on the streets?
She couldn’t worry about that right now. What she needed to worry about was how she was going to get away from this killer.
God, please don’t make my kids orphans!
“I don’t know his password. I hadn’t seen James in years.” At least her voice was steadier this time.
“You still knew him better ‘n anyone else. I’m bettin’ you can at least take a good guess.” He pulled her closer, sending pain shooting through her scalp as the hair pulled taut. “You better figure it out or there’s no point in keeping you alive.”
Not that he was going to let her live once he had what he wanted.
Tears filled her eyes as the reality of her situation crashed in.
If she didn’t help him, he’d kill her. If she gave him what he wanted, he’d still kill her.
“You’re going to kill me anyway.” A small sob broke free. “I’m not giving you a thing.”
His eyes narrowed.
Movement flashed in her peripheral seconds before his hand connected with her face.
Pain exploded throughout her head. A scream shattered her ears.
It took a second to realize that the sound came from her.
The blinding pain dulled, the full right side of her face throbbing. Something warm trickled down her chin. A metallic taste filled her mouth, choking her.
Blood.
She couldn’t see for the tears flowing from her eyes, but she sensed him moving closer, felt his breath tickling the uninjured side of her face.
“That was just a taste of what can happen if you don’t do as you’re told. Think about it.”
Broken is the Grave Page 25
