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Authors: Alton L. Gansky

Distant Memory (19 page)

BOOK: Distant Memory
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“I guess the guy is renting,” Tanner commented.

“I doubt it,” Hobbs said. “Too many coincidences. Something is going on here, and I haven’t the foggiest idea what.”

“At least you’re not alone,” Tanner commiserated.

“My guess is that it’s one of these three houses,” Hobbs said, pointing at the image printed from the helicopter video. “I can’t be sure, but my guess is that he parked in front of his own house, then moved the truck. But which house?”

“There’s no way to know without knocking on the door.”

“You’re right. Let’s go pay a visit. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

“Have a seat,” Nick said. “I’ll get you a tissue.”

Lisa let him lead her to the couch. He still had his arm around her. She was glad; the last thing she wanted was to be alone. Nick had let her weep until the poison of her fear had subsided. The gentle crashing of
waves on the private beach and the sharp but pleasant cries of sea gulls overhead had eventually replaced the sounds of her sobs.

“Thank you,” she said as she lowered herself to the sofa. “I’m such a bother.”

“Nonsense,” he answered quickly. “Let me run into the bedroom. I have some Kleenex in there. You just relax.”

“Okay.” Lisa leaned back and rested her head on the couch, closing her eyes. She took in a ragged breath, and a new anger rose within her, this time directed at herself for losing control. It seemed so wrong, so out of character for her.

The sound of the ocean seeped into the living room. Nick must have left the back door open. The tangy air smelled good. Life always goes on, no matter what. Hers would too. It might be different; it might be missing a few decades, but she was alive. She had survived a horrible auto accident, and now she was seated in a nice home, listening to the orchestra of creation.

She was not defeated. Not by a long shot. She would figure things out, make things right. And she was sure of one thing: She was not alone.

The last thought made her pause. Was she not alone because Nick was there to help? No … Her subconscious was sending a message. Someone else was there to help her? But who?

“Isn’t this sweet?” a strange and heavy voice said.

Instantly Lisa sat straight up and snapped her eyes open. A man with a thick build stood before her. First she noticed his evil grin, then she noticed the handgun he held on her. The gun itself was small but made large by the silencer on the end of the barrel.
A PT111
, Lisa thought.
How did I know that?

“Who are you?” she asked forcefully.

“I’ve been looking for you, lady,” the man said. His voice was gruff but carried a measure of enjoyment. There was no nervousness, no fear,
no anxiety, just pure pleasure. “You’ve caused me a lot of trouble and tarnished my image. I don’t appreciate that.” He approached her. Lisa started to stand, but he ordered her to sit, and as he did he pushed the gun forward.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Lisa objected.
Buy time. Make him talk
. She wondered where Nick was.

“You don’t recall us meeting before?” the man asked with a wicked chuckle. “I thought I had left quite an impression.”

“My memory isn’t what it used to be.” Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure the man could hear it.

“You might say we bumped into each other last night.”

Him!
“You’re the one who tried to run me off the road!” Her fear was now laced with anger.

“If you had had the good sense to die then, I could have been spared all this trouble.”

“But why? Why are you trying to kill me?”

“No stalling, lady. This ain’t some movie where the bad guy explains everything. It’s real life—or in your case, real death.”

“That’s it? You’re just going to walk in and kill me?”
Where is Nick?

“That’s what I do. That’s my job.” He raised the gun higher, pointing it at her head. The little gun seemed to grow in size, becoming more ominous, more frightening.

Seconds stretched longer as the man stepped closer, his gun unwaveringly extended. He was within arm’s distance. Lisa could see down the barrel of the gun. Her mind raced with possibilities for action, but none made sense. He could squeeze the trigger faster than she could duck. What she needed was—

Nick came flying out of the hall that led to his bedroom with a scream. The man spun on his heels, turning the gun on Nick. He squeezed off a shot, the bullet making a
ftzzz
sound. Lisa was on her feet a split second later. In a single fluid motion she hit the gunman’s hand,
knocking it up. She had hoped to knock the weapon free, but failed. The second round was fired into the ceiling.

The force of Nick’s body slammed into the stranger, knocking him backward but not off his feet. The blow had been powerful enough to stun the attacker for a moment. Nick, who had hit the man headfirst, tumbled facedown to the floor.

Lisa didn’t wait to see what would happen next. Without thought she charged the attacker.

“Lisa, no!” Nick shouted, but she was acting on instinct. No more than five steps separated her from the man with the gun. He brought his arm up and around to bear on her. Lisa dropped, letting her momentum carry her forward. She hit him just below the left knee as she heard the muffled
ftzzz
of another shot.

As she landed prone on the floor, the man twisted and fell, landing hard on her back. The pain was enormous. Her already battered body screamed in torment as the heavy gunman fell on her. He rolled off, and Lisa turned her head just in time to see the man on all fours, the gun still in his hand.

Nick was back on his feet and plowing forward. The gunman quickly raised the weapon and fired. A splatter of blood filled the air and Nick screamed, tumbling forward. Lisa rolled on her back as the assassin lumbered to his feet. He hopped on one leg while holding the other, the one she had hit, a few inches off the floor. Lisa struck again. This time she kicked at the man’s good leg, striking him hard in the ankle. Her thick-soled Nike shoes dug into his flesh. She felt his foot slide to the side, and the man fell again.

He began screaming obscenities, but she took no time to notice. Despite the searing hot pain that ignited every nerve, she struggled to her feet. The man started to raise the gun, but Lisa was kicking again, using all her weight. Her fury was fueled by the knowledge that he had tried to kill her once and was now trying again. Raising her right foot as
high as she felt she had time, she thrust her leg forward. The obscenities stopped when her shoe caught the man on the bridge of the nose. She heard a snap followed by a scream of pain.
Don’t stop until you’re sure you’re safe
, a voice said in her mind. She didn’t recognize the voice, but she recognized the truth of the statement. How many women had been harmed because they didn’t seize the opportunity to strike?

She kicked again and again. One blow impacted the gunman’s hand, sending the weapon bouncing across the carpeted floor. Another landed on the man’s upheld arm. Still another caught him on the side of the head. The screams stopped. Lisa kept kicking. Tears of fury flowed from her eyes.

The man stopped moving.

“That’s enough!” Nick said. “Help me, quick.”

His words snapped her attention back to him. She turned to face Nick, who was seated on the floor. Blood oozed from his left arm. “You’ve been hit.”

“I think it just grazed me, but it’s bleeding pretty good. At least I’m not him. Remind me to never make you mad.”

She looked back at the unconscious attacker. He groaned softly and rocked from side to side. Lisa had no idea how she had known what to do.

“Come on, Lisa,” Nick said. “He’s going to wake up and be very unhappy. Get the gun and let’s get out of here.”

“Let’s just tie him up,” she suggested.

“No,” Nick responded forcibly. “He may not be alone. We can’t wait around for any pals he may have to come looking for him. Now get the gun and help me up. I think I busted my knee when I fell.”

Lisa raced to the weapon, then, despite her own piercing pain, helped Nick to his feet. He hobbled, unable to put his full weight on his right leg.

“Let’s go,” he said. “Into the garage.”

“But the truck is down the street and—”

“I have a car in the garage. We’ll take it. You’re going to have to drive.”

Lisa nodded and moved to the door that joined the garage with the house. As she took hold of the doorknob it occurred to her that the attacker must have come in this way. Swinging the door open, she stepped through, the gun aimed before her. Her eyes swept the wide-open space of the garage, the gun in her hand aiming everywhere her eyes looked. She saw a silver Gallant parked in the middle of the floor.

“Get in the car,” Nick said loudly.

“No,” she replied. “You get in first. I have to open the garage door.”

“You can open it from inside the car. There’s a remote control on the visor.”

Lisa heard a loud moan behind them. A hot stream of cursing followed the guttural groan. The attacker had come to. Lisa stepped aside to let Nick pass through the doorway and then turned to shut the door. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the assassin’s bulk charging at her. Like Nick, he was limping badly, but he still came forward like a locomotive. “Move!” Lisa shouted. Nick hobbled out of the way, and Lisa slammed the door hard against the jamb. The house shook with the force of it. Then it shook again as the attacker hit the door. Lisa reached for the lock before she realized her mistake. The lock was on the other side of the door. He could lock her out, but she could not lock him in.

Leaning against the door with all her weight, she struggled to keep the man at bay. There was no way, she knew, that she would make it to the car, open the door, get inside, start the engine, and back out of the garage. Pain rifled through her once again as the large man threw his weight into the door. The jamb vibrated with the impact. She felt like she was holding back a charging buffalo.

“Hold on,” Nick shouted as he staggered back to her.

“I can’t hold him any longer,” Lisa lamented.

“Give me the gun and hold him for a couple more seconds.”

She released the weapon, and Nick limped back to the passenger side of the car, opened the door, got in and then leaned out, pointing the pistol at Lisa’s position.

“Now!” he shouted.

Lisa scampered away from the door and into the car as fast as she - could. “The keys!” she screamed frantically.

“In the ignition. I left them in the ignition.”

The door to the garage exploded open, and the attacker bowled his way in. The doorjamb next to him exploded into splinters as Nick fired a round at the man’s head. Instinctively, the man ducked back into the house. Nick fired another shot as Lisa started the car. The engine roared to life.

They were still trapped inside. “The visor. The door opener is on the visor. Left button.” Lisa pressed it and the door behind her began its slow rise.

“Come on, come on,” Lisa encouraged the door.

“I should have killed that guy when I had a chance,” Nick said through clenched teeth.

Inch by agonizing inch the door rose in slow motion. Nick closed his door, resting the gun in his lap. A loud, fierce shriek pierced the darkening evening. Just as Lisa slammed the gearshift into reverse, the attacker reemerged from the house, careening toward the car. The tires of the car screeched as she mashed the accelerator to the floorboard.

There was a thud. The attacker landed on the hood of the car, digging his fingers into the gap between the windshield and the sheet metal hood. There was no doubt that this madman would hold on until he figured a way to get inside. It was irrational, but the expression on his face said that reason had left him a long time ago.

Nick rolled down his window and stuck the gun out, trying to bring the barrel to bear on the madman clinging to the hood.

“No, wait,” Lisa said. As the car plunged into the street, she cranked the wheel hard to the left, sending the front of the car sliding to the
right. The man’s inertia caused him to slip along the hood, his fingers failing and his nails leaving long scratches in the paint. He flew sideways into the street. The jerk also caused Nick to lose his grip on the pistol.

“The gun!” Nick shouted as it slipped from his fingers.

Slamming the gearshift into drive, Lisa again pressed the accelerator to the floor. Looking in the rearview mirror, she saw the attacker rise to his feet and wave an angry fist at them. Then she saw something that caused her thundering heart to race all the more. A dark sedan pulled up as the would-be killer scrambled for the small pistol that had slipped from Nick’s fingers and lay on the asphalt.

“You were right,” Lisa said. “He wasn’t alone.”

“I hope you are as good behind the wheel as you were in the house. Where did you learn that stuff?”

“I have no idea.”

C
HAPTER
12
Tuesday, 6:30
P.M.

M
assey pulled from the curb and quickly drove to where the agitated McCullers stood shaking his fist in the air and yelling obscenities. McCullers was in the middle of the street, forcing Massey to pull into the oncoming lane and stop so the passenger door was next to McCullers. He lowered the automatic window.

BOOK: Distant Memory
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ads

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