Dead Reckoning (42 page)

Then she was lying on her side, her face pressed against concrete that smelled of engine oil and dust.

You screwed up, Megason,
she thought.

And then the world faded to gray.

 
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 2:25 A.M.

Frank drove like a madman to Belinda Ferguson’s Highland Park home. The roads were treacherous and several times the truck fishtailed and nearly went into a spin. He parked at the curb, sprinted up the sidewalk and took the steps two at a time. He knew even before he hit the bell that no one was going to answer. He waited thirty seconds, then jogged to the rear of the property.

He peered through the French doors. The house looked deserted, but he could see a dim light coming from inside. “Kate!” he shouted.
“Kate!”

On impulse he tried the door. Surprise shimmied through him when it opened. Drawing his pistol from its sheath, he stepped inside. “Kate! It’s Frank.”

The house smelled of eucalyptus and heated air. Listening, his weapon ready in his hand, he slowly made his way to the kitchen.

The light above the range was the only light. But it was plenty for him to see Belinda Ferguson lying in a large pool of blood. She was on her back, her arms and legs splayed. She was gripping a small, nickel plated revolver.
Dead,
he thought.

“Jesus.” Holstering his weapon, Frank rushed to her and pressed his finger to her carotid. Her flesh was warm to the touch. The pulse was barely discernable.

Quickly he tugged his cell from his belt and hit 911. “I need an ambulance. There’s been a shooting.” He identified himself and recited the address. “Notify the Dallas PD and the DA ASAP.”

He snapped his phone closed and looked around, a new fear gripping him. “Kate!”

A sound jerked his attention back to the woman lying on the floor. Her eyes were open and focused on him. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but all she managed was a gurgling sound.

“An ambulance is on the way,” he said.

She blinked once, slowly, and he got the impression that she’d understood him.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Megason . . .” she croaked.

“Where is she?”

She seemed to be having difficulty focusing. She opened her mouth again. He saw blood on her teeth. But she didn’t speak.

Urgency pushed him.
“Where, damn it?”

Ferguson closed her eyes. Her body went slack. Frank cursed. He didn’t know what to do or where to look for Kate. He knew Belinda Ferguson had had a partner. Jameson Rooks. And he wondered if Rooks had had a hand in this.

“Prov ... dence. ”

The voice drew his attention back to the woman dying on the floor. Her eyes were open. Urgency burned in their depths. “What?” he asked.

“Kate . . .” she rasped. “Prov . . . dence Tow . . . er.”

“Providence Tower?”

Belinda Ferguson blinked once. “Rooks. Bas . . . tard.”

Frank reached out and squeezed her hand. “You’re going to be all right,” he said. “The ambulance is on the way.”

Another blink.

“Hang tight. I’m going to find Kate,” he said and sprinted toward the door.”

 
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 9, 2:57 A.M.

Kate woke to pain and the sensation of movement. She smelled leather and heated air and it dawned on her that she was in a moving car.

She opened her eyes to see Jameson Rooks behind the wheel. Her seat was partially reclined. The gag had been removed, but she could feel where it had bruised the corners of her mouth. She shifted, testing her strength. Pain shot up her arm, wrenching a groan from her.

Rooks looked away from his driving. “Your seat belt is fastened. Don’t do anything stupid or I’ll hurt you.”

“You’ve already hurt me.”

“Next time it will be worse.”

She looked out the window, realized they were traveling North on Preston Road, heading toward the suburb of Plano. The clock on the dash told her it was 2:58 A.M. The dead of night. “Where are you taking me?”

He turned off of Preston Road without answering. In the distance the steel skeleton of Providence Tower was illuminated against the lights of residential Plano. Surprise rippled through her when he turned onto the street leading to the construction site.

“Are you familiar with Providence Tower?” he asked conversationally.

Kate looked at him, didn’t answer.

“When construction is complete next year, the tower’s seventy-four stories will stand 945 feet. It will be the second tallest building in Texas. The sixteenth tallest building in the United States.”

Everyone in Dallas had heard of Providence Tower. The high-rise office tower was the pride of mostly residential Plano. “I hate to put a damper on your fun, but at the moment I don’t give a damn.”

He smiled as if she’d amused him. “Ferguson and Rooks was instrumental in getting this immense project off the ground.”

Kate said nothing. She could feel the fear and hopelessness pressing into her. She didn’t know what he was going to do to her or why they were at Providence Tower. The only thing she knew for certain was that he meant to harm her.

“I’m glad I could be part of such a history-making project.” He looked over at her. “Pretty impressive, don’t you think?”

“I think you need to take a long hard look at what you’re doing. I’m a prosecutor, Rooks. You don’t murder a prosecutor and get away with it. You know that.”

He stopped the car, turned off the engine, and turned to her. “I’m going to get out and unlock the gate. Don’t do anything stupid.” He stared hard at her for the span of several heartbeats, then opened the door and stepped into the night.

Her eyes darted to the ignition, but he’d taken the keys. “Damn it.” She hit the locks. But Kate knew that wouldn’t stop him. Through the window, she saw Rooks at the chain-link gate. The snow was coming down hard, coating the street and construction equipment. A ten-foot chain-link fence surrounded the construction site. Once they were inside, it would be difficult for her to escape.

She was about to reach for the door handle to make a run for it when the locks snapped. The driver’s door opened. The overhead light blinked on as Rooks slid in with a swirl of snow.

“You weren’t about to do something stupid, were you, Ms. Megason?”

Leaning against the seatback, Kate closed her eyes. She could feel the slick of sweat on her forehead. Her pulse beating like a drum. The pain was like a ricochet inside her bone, so intense she was dizzy and nauseous.

Rooks drove through the gate, then got out to close it. Kate thought about making a run for it, but with a broken arm and a concussion, she was in no condition to run.

Back in the car, Rooks put the Jag in gear and drove down a ramp and into the underground garage. There were no lights, and the place was very dark. Kate looked around, wondering if she could use the darkness to her advantage. She thought about the cop she’d left back at the convalescent home and wondered if he’d discovered she was gone. She thought about Frank and wondered if he knew she was missing. If he would come for her. If he would find her in time.

The thought sent tears to her eyes. Kate knew he would do everything in his power to find her. She prayed it was enough because she was certain Rooks was minutes away from killing her.

Rooks parked the Jag, got out of the car, and opened the passenger side door. “Get out.”

Cradling her arm, Kate slid from the seat. “Where are you taking me?”

He motioned toward the construction site elevator, a steel grate platform surrounded by a chain-link safety cage. “I want to show you something.”

Kate didn’t want to get on the elevator. She envisioned herself making a wild dash for freedom. Rooks must have seen her thoughts in her eyes, because he abruptly reached out and squeezed her injured arm.

Kate cried out, the pain so intense her vision dimmed. “You bastard,” she said, her voice breathless.

“I mean it,” he warned. “Don’t fuck with me.”

Her head was swimming when she stepped onto the platform. Rooks stepped in beside her. The door clanged shut. He pressed the button for the seventy-fourth floor. The platform jolted, then began to hum upward.

“You’re a fascinating young woman,” he said after a moment. “Not many people interest me the way you do.”

“Forgive me if I’m not flattered.”

One side of his mouth curved. “I’m merely stating a fact. You’ve been a captivating study.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“I know more about you than you could ever imagine. Including, shall we say, your history.”

She looked at him, hating him, hoping that even if he killed her tonight, he would one day be made to pay for his sins.

“Your father protected your secrets well. But I’ve always been adept at obtaining information when I needed it.”

“So you were the one stalking me,” she said. “How brilliant.”

He tsked. “Come now. While I found you interesting on a personal level, I consider such endeavors beneath me.”

“I guess murder is more your style.”

“When it’s profitable.”

“I think you’re a sick fuck, Rooks.”

His eyes lit with dark amusement. “I found your weak spot. I capitalized on it by hiring someone to frighten you.” He smiled. “You don’t frighten easily, though, do you, Ms. Megason?”

Kate said nothing.

He shrugged. “That particular endeavor was nothing more than a diversion, really.”

“A diversion from what?”

“The case, of course. You were digging like the good little prosecutor you are. I wanted you to stop.” He shrugged. “You pursued the matter, and now here we are. That’s what happens to pit bulls when they don’t know when to stop fighting. They get put down. Destroyed so they can’t hurt anyone.”

The elevator rattled and hummed upward. The wind grew stronger as they rode higher. Snow flew crazily. The building was only partially complete with ceilings and floors with intermittent support beams throughout, but few walls had been completed.

“You were raped and left for dead when you were seventeen years old,” Rooks said.

Kate knew better than to let the words get to her, but the rise of temper, of hatred, was swift and powerful.

“Three weeks later you took a handful of your mother’s sleeping pills.”

“I know what I did,” she snapped.

“Driven by guilt over your sister, no doubt. And, of course, the rape itself. That’s a terrible thing for a seventeen-year-old girl to endure. I’ve always wondered, did your parents blame you?”

Kate said nothing, but she could feel the old guilt rising inside her. The unfairness of the blame she had shouldered. She hated it that he could do this to her. Reduce her to a powerless and hurting seventeen-year-old girl.

He contemplated her, and she had the oddest sense that in some sick, twisted way he felt something for her. Not sympathy so much as respect.

“In any case,” he said, “you’ve handled all of this exceedingly well. Look at you. You have a broken arm. A head wound. You’re standing there, knowing I’m going to kill you. And yet you haven’t cried. You haven’t begged.” There was just enough light for her to see the chilling glint in his eyes. “Why not?”

“Because I want to kill you.”

More than anything he could have said or done, the smile he gave her frightened her. Frightened her so badly that she began to shake all over. Her teeth began to chatter.

“There is one trait I admire over all others, Kate, and that is courage. You have that in ample supply. You’re cool. Strong. I like that in a woman. Under different circumstances . . .” He let the words trail and shrugged. “Who knows?”

She looked away, but she could feel his eyes on her and the feeling was as vile as if he’d touched her bare flesh with his fingertips.

The elevator ground to a halt. The door grated as it opened. Rooks turned a key in a panel next to the door, withdrew it, and dropped it into his pocket. “The elevator is now locked. There is no way down or up without this key.” He motioned forward. “Please.”

A black and terrible sense of helplessness assailed her when she stepped out of the elevator. The floor was vast, dissected by sections of scaffolding, stepladders, and various construction equipment. There were few interior or exterior walls, and beyond the perimeter of the floor, Kate could see the lights of residential Plano.

“The vista is beautiful from up here, isn’t it?”

Kate looked at him. He was standing with his back to her, staring out at the vast darkness beyond. His hands were on his hips. She wondered if she was strong enough to shove him off the edge. . . .

“Why did you bring me here?” she asked.

He turned and approached her, his expression grim. “I think you know.”

He was right. Kate knew. She’d known the instant they’d pulled into the lot. Fear thrashed inside her. She did not want to die. She sure as hell didn’t want to die at the hands of a bastard like Jameson Rooks.

“Let me go,” she said.

“Ah, Kate . . . You know I can’t do that.”

“You have the resources to go anywhere in the world. There are countries that do not have extradition treaties with the United States.”

He frowned at her, a teacher disappointed by a slow-witted child. “I have no desire to spend the rest of my life in some muddy hellhole.” He shrugged. “I’m afraid this is the only way.”

Her heart was pounding so hard she was dizzy. She could taste the metallic tang of fear at the back of her throat.

“You’re going to jump to your death tonight.” He said the words with all the passion of a man talking about the weather. “You have a history of suicidal behavior. You’ve been distraught over the Bruton Ellis case. You’ve been under a lot of pressure. And with your past . . .” He shrugged. “Even the strongest of people have been known to snap.”

“No one will believe I committed suicide,” she said.