A Dozen Deadly Roses (27 page)
Seated on the bed, she yanked off the red gossamer ribbon holding on the lid. As she pulled the top off, blood pounded in her ears. She gasped with surprise.
Nestled in a sea of tissue paper lay a single decayed rose and a note. Words formed from letters cut out of magazines and newspapers added to the sinister impression of the message.
If you want the kid back alive, go to the abandoned Desert Dunes hotel tonight at midnight. Come alone. If you call the cops, I’ll turn the kid loose in the desert for coyote kill. P.S. – I hope you’ve liked your roses. This is the last one
.
Jade pushed the box to the other side of the bed and paced the room. Her mind spun faster than the reels on a slot machine.
She was aware of the location chosen. The old landmark hotel was scheduled for demolition to make way for a new million-dollar resort.
She knew she should let the detectives know about the note. But Donnie’s life was at stake. She had no idea how Las Vegas P.D. would handle the situation. If shots were fired, she didn’t want Donnie in any danger from a trigger-happy cop. Often, one shot led to ‘contagious fire,’ where cops started shooting because other officers had discharged their weapons. Besides, the stalker seemed to know her every move. What if he found out she’d notified the authorities? No telling what he’d do to Donnie.
She made her decision. It was best if she went by herself. For an instant it crossed her mind to see if Mac wanted to go, but just as quickly she rejected the idea. The last time they’d confronted a gangster, he was too drunk to respond. It wouldn’t be any different this time; the last place she’d seen him was in a bar.
Glancing at her watch, she realized she’d better get moving if she was going to make the rendezvous on time.
# # #
Mac bent over the highball glass, breathing in the tantalizing aroma. The smell greeted him like an old friend. His heart pounded and he wasn’t sure if it was from excitement or fear.
Lord, he wanted that drink. He craved the instant relief he knew would be delivered with just a few swallows. He’d welcome the relaxing numbness that would course through his veins and ease the tension from his mind and limbs. The sensation would be even sweeter because it hadn’t been experienced in quite some time.
A voice in his head urged him to take a sip – one drink wouldn’t hurt. Besides - he’d quit once; he could do it again.
Previously, he drank because the pain of losing his wife and daughter had been too much to bear alone.
On the advice of his co-workers and the department chaplain, he’d never seen the murdered bodies of Susan and Ashley. It was a decision he’d come to regret. Because he was a cop, he imagined the worst kind of carnage.
At the time, his captain wanted him to talk to the department shrink, but Mac would have none of it. He assured everyone he was okay, and they seemed only too happy to believe him. Instead, he’d go to the house, the one his wife had so lovingly made a home, and wander amongst the belongings of his wife and his eight-year-old daughter.
Beer had been his beverage of choice, but he soon learned he could get the same effect much faster if he drank vodka.
He thought he was doing a pretty good job of hiding his addiction from his co-workers until the night Jade killed the gangster. Then his pathetic secret was literally placed under the glare of high-powered lights.
“How you doin’ over there?” asked the bartender from behind the bar. Mac gave him a thumbs up and glanced around the room. To his surprise, it was empty.
“Yep, you got the place to yourself. Enjoy it while you can, and let me know if you need anything.”
Mac nodded. The fellow behind the bar was no youngster. Mac probably wasn’t the first drunk the guy witnessed battling the urge to drink.
It would be so easy to lift the glass and send the soothing liquid past his lips. But things were different now. He’d been given a second chance. He had a son. A son! He knew now the reoccurring dream of he and Jade making love was his drunken memory of Donnie’s conception.
Rage toward Jade filled his heart. She’d known all these years he had a son and she hadn’t told him. He didn’t even know she’d been pregnant.
Well hell, Stryker, you didn’t even remember doing the deed
.
And then there was Jade. As much as he’d fought it, he’d fallen in love with her. He’d even imagined the three of them as a family. But one of the cornerstones of any relationship is trust – and Jade failed miserably in that department. She hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him he was Donnie’s father. He’d been excluded from his son’s first few years of life, and there was no way to get that time back. He seethed, thinking of the birthdays and holidays he’d missed. He had Jade to thank for that.
Worse yet, his son’s life was in jeopardy. Just like it had been with Ashley, he had no control over the situation. He didn’t know what to do to save his child. If something happened to Donnie, Mac knew he’d slide right back into the bottle and never climb out.
Suddenly, a flash of gold outside the entrance to the bar caught his attention. It was Jade. She carried another one of those damn flower boxes. She walked so fast he’d almost missed seeing her. He would have to hurry to catch her.
He pushed the untouched alcohol to the middle of the table, then grabbed some bills from his wallet and tossed them on the table.
“Have a good night, sir,” called the bartender as Mac hurried out, following Jade.
# # #
Jade sighed with impatience, guiding her truck through a strip hotel’s parking structure. The squealing of her tires echoed in the cement chamber. After pulling into a parking space she paused and took a deep breath. From there she walked through the concrete building, the strap of the large canvas purse she carried cutting into her shoulder. In the satchel, along with her personal items, was a flashlight, a pair of handcuffs, and pepper spray. She cursed the fact that her gun had most certainly been booked into evidence by the LAPD detectives in the investigation of Callie Lasko’s murder. Oh, how she wished she had that gun now. The pepper spray would have to do.
There wasn’t much foot traffic at this time of night in this part of the strip. The hotels in this section of Las Vegas Boulevard were older, smaller and not nearly as popular as the resorts further up the boulevard.
An icy breeze blew through her long-sleeved, black turtleneck T-shirt and jeans. She’d considered wearing a jacket, but didn’t want to be encumbered by bulkiness. She’d worn a loosely woven black V-neck sweater over the top, but she still shivered as she rushed toward the abandoned Desert Dunes hotel. A piece of her long bangs blew into her eyes. Irritated, she dug in her purse and retrieved a plastic tortoise shell comb and secured the distracting tresses.
The sidewalk wasn’t nearly as well lit after she left the day-like glow from the hotel where she’d parked her car.
She kept a good pace, knowing as a woman alone she’d be considered an easy target by many street thugs. Any other time she might welcome the chance to surprise a dirtbag with some street justice, but tonight her only focus was to get Donnie back safe and sound.
“Hey lady, ya got any spare change?”
A scruffy man held out his stained hand and smiled, displaying a chronic drug-user’s mouthful of crooked and rotting teeth.
“No. Sorry.” She didn’t make eye contact nor did she slow down.
“Bitch,” the man called after her.
About fifty yards from the panhandler she came to the temporary wooden walls surrounding the remnants of the Desert Dunes.
She walked the long length of the barrier and couldn’t find any weakness on the street side she could breach.
Maybe on the side or in the back I can get in, she thought.
Turning to the south side of the property, her senses went on heightened alert. If the darkened sidewalk was intimidating, this flank of the property was downright creepy. Jade thought of the flashlight in her purse, but security cameras around the aged resort were likely. She didn’t want to draw attention to herself. She must get inside. She must get Donnie.
A thump behind her halted her progress. Standing statue still, she held her breath and listened. Passing cars and occasional bleats of horns from the Las Vegas Strip were the only sounds she heard. Her gaze swept the darkness, but saw nothing between her and the distant safety of the bright lights of the strip.
Exhaling, she continued along the weathered wooden panels, searching in the darkness for some kind of an entrance.
Stumbling on a rock, she pitched forward, almost tumbling to the sandy soil.
Regaining her balance, she forged ahead. She’d gone about a hundred yards when the barrier made a right angle and she stood at the rear of the establishment.
Taking a quick peek around the corner, she was surprised to see there was no sign of a security guard. As she moved along the wooden fence, her surveillance revealed two wood panels secured by a hasp and padlock. There was no evidence of tampering.
If anyone wanted in, all they’d have to do was cut the lock
.
Shaking her head at the inadequate precautions, she continued, knowing there had to be another way inside the compound. She didn’t want to scale the wooden fence if she didn’t have to. Besides, the stalker would have gotten here before her and he had to get in somehow.
Moving further, she discovered just what she’d been looking for. Someone had kicked out a panel of the plywood, then propped it into place so the breach wasn’t noticeable. She easily fit through the opening, and as she did so, she noticed the damage to the timber appeared new.
“I’m coming for my son, you freak,” she whispered. As she got her bearings inside the compound, the ordinary hotel fixtures looked menacing. Donnie must be scared to death, she thought with dread. “Mommy’s coming, honey,” she whispered.
Since there apparently were no security guards or cameras on the premises, she fished her flashlight out of her bag. Out of habit, she held the light in her non-shooting hand. Academy training dies hard, she thought wryly. Moving her right hand over the lens of the light to dim the illumination, she flicked it on. Small shards of illumination shot between her slightly separated fingers.
Where thick glass doors once led the way to the hotel lobby and casino, a gaping hole now stood. Sweeping the flashlight beam across the interior, Jade discovered the large structure was nothing more than a shell.
Her heart hammered in her chest, but nothing would keep her from getting to her son. Nothing.
Placing her steps carefully to cut the noise, she slowly proceeded. Switching the flashlight off, she plunged her hand into her purse. She wrapped her fingers around the canister of pepper spray. Pointing the nozzle forward and putting her finger on the “trigger” wasn’t very reassuring. She’d give a year’s salary to have her Glock in her hand. The lack of light would be a problem, yet she didn’t want to continue to use the one she’d brought because it would pinpoint her position to the stalker.
Taking a deep breath, she descended the four entry stairs into what had been the casino. She decided to move clockwise along the wall. She held her pepper spray at a low ready, the same way she’d hold her gun if she’d had it. Her right wrist rested upon her left with her flashlight in her left hand ready to be switched on in an instant.
She’d moved about twenty yards when she came to a doorway leading to a hallway. Not wanting to pass unknown territory, she shifted her direction, sneaking down the passageway. Thankfully, all the doors in the building were removed so her search was quick. Coming back up the hallway, she froze as she heard a noise from the direction of the main room. Humming in her ears competed with the hammering of her heart as she listened to get a fix on the location of the noise - nothing but silence.
Exiting the hallway, she continued her clockwise pattern. She’d gone another ten yards when a feeling of dread overwhelmed her. The sensation was no stranger. She’d felt it many times on patrol; almost always before something life-threatening happened.
Stopping again, she silently assumed a shooting stance, feeling foolish, holding nothing more than pepper spray. Her right arm locked out and her left wrist pressed against the back of her right, creating support through isometric tension.
A voice cut through the blackness. “You might as well turn on your light and drop your mace. I’ve been watching you since you got here.”
Jade didn’t move. She tried to ascertain where the man stood from the sound of his voice.
“Listen, you stupid whore, I’m not screwin’ around. You and I have a score to settle. Don’t forget I have your kid.”
Since he knew where she was, she might as well level the playing field. She pressed the switch on her light and the area was brightly lit.
He was about twenty feet in front of her. The surveillance tapes didn’t do him justice. He was built like a tank. Not tall, but broad and muscular. Intricate prison tattoos of skulls, webs, and naked women marked his thick bare arms, which hung menacingly - oblivious to the frigid air.
She tried to keep herself from shaking, but she was failing miserably.
His bald head shone as he removed night vision goggles from his eyes. “I’m thinkin’ you got a problem understandin’ English. Drop the spray.”
Giving up her only weapon wasn’t a good idea. Better to keep him talking and come up with a plan. She had to fight to keep regret out of her thoughts that no one knew where she was.
“Where’s my son?” she asked, managing to get the words out of her dry mouth.
“He’s safe.”
“The police are coming right now.”
His smile was maniacal. “Nice try. If that was true, they’d have shot me by now. Course if that happens, you’ll never find the kid.”
He’s right, she thought.
Donnie’s probably dead and it’s all my fault
.
Hoping to appease him, she dropped her arms to low ready. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re doing this?”