Read Eye of the Abductor Online
Authors: Elaine Meece
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense
When he raised his head, he grinned wickedly. “Too bad we don’t
have any furniture, or I’d carry you to bed.” She opened her mouth to argue,
but he continued. “You might not be ready but your body is.” He glanced at her
breasts. “Your nipples are as hard as diamonds.”
“I’m cold.”
“Yeah, right.”
His erection stayed lodged against her, causing deep sexual urges
to torment her. Her breasts seemed tight and full. Again he kissed her
thoroughly, skimming his tongue over hers. Heat radiated through her body,
breaking down her resistance. This man was her husband. Could it really hurt to
sleep with him just once?
Definitely dangerous.
The doorbell rang.
“The movers are here,” she announced.
“I'd rather it be the furniture store,” Brance announced. “We
need a bed. Now.”
Allison had literally been saved by the bell. She couldn’t let
things between them go so far again. Little by little her defenses were
vanishing like dandelion seeds in the wind. Eventually, she'd be left with no
willpower to resist him.
After the deliverymen and movers had unloaded everything and
left, she and Brance worked all day arranging the furniture.
“I wanted to knock the young guy’s teeth down his throat.”
“What for?” Allison asked as she opened and peered in a box.
“Found the dishes.”
“For staring at your ass in those tight jeans. I think you wore
them just to drive me insane. You know I’m aching for you, that I can’t think
of anything else but taking you to bed.”
“I know no such thing. You can’t charm me into your bed like you
do the other women.”
“I shouldn’t have to charm you. You’re my wife.”
“True. But you said you wouldn’t rush me.”
“Don’t remind me.” He set some boxes to the side and opened one
marked
pots and pans
. “What are we going to do for Christmas dinner?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. Usually, I take cold medicine and
sleep all day. It’s the easiest way not to think of Nathan.”
“I’ll cook a ham.” Brance opened another box containing towels.
“If you’ll make a few side dishes to go with it. After we eat, we’ll take in a
movie.”
“Brance..." She started to object but let it go. Christmas
to her had been a day of remorse and sadness, a day of loneliness and a
reminder that she didn’t have her son. “Sounds good. It beats lying around moping
all day.”
“That’s the spirit. Start our own Christmas traditions.”
I don’t want any traditions that don’t include Nathan
.
***
Saturday night, Carla waited as Dillon left the precinct and
walked to his car. He was not with any of his buddies. She followed behind him,
staying several cars back. He pulled into a gentlemen’s club near the airport,
and her stomach tightened, making her nauseated.
She waited in her car for an hour. Dillon finally came out, and
he wasn’t alone. A young woman, wearing a skimpy outfit, walked snuggled beside
him, clinging to him tighter than plastic wrap.
Again Carla trailed him, this time to an apartment building.
Obviously, the girl’s home. She waited until they were inside before she
started her engine and left.
Tears blinded her. She’d wait until after New Year’s to file for
a divorce. Why upset the entire family’s holiday?
***
Tuesday after work, Brance dropped by Wal-Mart. Allison had given
him a shopping list. He selected a cart with one wobbly wheel that drove him
crazy. He spotted a deserted shopping cart and decided to switch. As he
transferred the groceries, he caught a glimpse of someone familiar and paused.
Shawn lurked near the pharmacy, giving the appearance of waiting
for someone. Probably his wife. But instead, two other men joined him. Were
they casing the joint? Brance removed his cell phone and snapped pictures.
He pushed his cart to the side and followed the men into the
parking lot. Shawn branched off in a different direction, but Brance stayed
behind the other two. Halfway down the parking lot, they stopped at a black
Ford Expedition and climbed in.
Brance took a picture of the license plate. Back inside, he
picked up the other items on Allison’s list and checked out.
After leaving the super store, he called in the plates. The truck
belonged to Kevin Welles. He jotted down the man’s phone number and address.
Then he keyed in the number for Safety First.
“Mr. Lanier, Detective Stone here. Could you tell me if your
company services the Bartlett Wal-Mart?”
“Yes. It's on the list I gave you.”
"I don't have it with me." He didn't mention he hadn't
seen the list because the case had been turned over to someone else.
“Can you check to see if you have anyone working for you by the
name of Welles?”
“I don’t have to check. The name is also on the list. Cindy
Welles.”
He had the owner check her schedule and wrote down the hours she
was scheduled to work that night. “Do me a favor, don’t say anything to
anyone.”
At the precinct, Brance asked John Dreyer to join him in Inspector
Graham’s office. Inside, he showed the pictures on his phone of Shawn with the
two men and shared his suspicions about their future heist. “I think they plan
to hit Wal-Mart. It only closes on Christmas Eve and will open again at five
A.M. the day after.”
"So, they'll make their move sometime after midnight,"
Dreyer stated.
“Yep. That's when her shift begins. And we’ll be waiting.”
“Good observation,” Graham said. “You know the case, why don’t
you work with Dreyer to set up a sting.”
"You bet, sir." Brance hoped this went down without a
hitch. What if he was wrong? He glanced at John. “I need to run my groceries
home, but I’ll be back.”
“Never thought you’d be henpecked,” John teased.
“The right hen is pecking.” He paused. “Give me thirty minutes.”
Brance stopped at the door and turned around. “One more thing. Let's leave
Randy Forrest out of the loop. I don’t think he’s involved, but he might question
Shawn about it.”
The Inspector and detective agreed.
Brance left the precinct feeling on top of the world. He sang
Jingle Bells all the way home. After unloading and putting the groceries away,
he jotted down a note for Allison and left it on the counter.
I’m back on the pharmacy case. I’ll be home in a couple of
hours. Sorry, the ice cream melted. Love, Brance.
He refused to hide what he felt for her anymore.
Back at the Appling precinct, Brance and John checked Shawn’s
schedule. During every break-in, he had been off duty. Brance didn’t arrive
home until midnight. He expected Allison to be in bed, but instead, he found
her curled up in a chair, reading. “Hey, gorgeous.”
“How’d it go?” she asked.
“Well let’s just say midnight on Christmas Eve, I’ll be waiting
for Santa and his two wicked elves to strike Wal-Mart.”
“You’re kidding?”
“Don’t mention it to anyone.”
“I’m not dumb, Brance.” She smiled. “And I can prove it. I made
an A in my real estate class. I take the state exam for my license Friday
morning.”
“I’m sure you’ll ace it. I’m proud of you, Allison. You’ve worked
really hard.”
"And I have an interview with Southern Homes Realtors. I
might work for them. They’re not the largest company, but by no means are they
small. Our agent said the company is representing several builders who are
doing well.”
“Sounds like a good place to start.”
Brance considered kissing Allison, but didn’t. The fact that he
was tired had a lot to do with it. Like his other attempts to get her in his
bed, she’d probably freeze up. “Do you work tomorrow?”
“Yeah, why?”
“I’m driving to Forrest City. We also meet with Mark Nelson about
filing for custody on Thursday.”
“I won't forget." Admiration filled her eyes. "Thanks
for doing this." She paused. "Brance, have you ever talked with
Dillon about that night? After all, he was there."
"He didn't witness the initial conflict. He arrived after
shots had been fired."
"It's just that if Escobar told the truth, then a cop killed
Johnny Jenkins. How do you know Dillon wasn't Rob's other partner? Maybe he
killed Jenkins."
"First of all, I know Dillon. He's a shithead, but not a
killer. He wouldn't cross the blue line. Second, whoever was Rob's silent
partner had to be top brass to have covered up their crimes."
"I hope you're right."
***
Early Wednesday morning, Brance drove to Arkansas's Federal
Prison in Forrest City, a sprawling sand colored building on flat green land.
After going through several checkpoints and signing a few forms, a guard
escorted Brance to a room where he waited for Collin Reed.
Collin Reed entered a few minutes later. “Who are you and what’s
this about?”
“I’m Detective Brance Stone. I’m trying to clear Paige Wilson so
she can get her son back.”
“What does it have to do with me?”
“You might be the only person who can help her.”
“And why would I want to?”
“Look, I don’t have anything to offer. I can't lessen your sentence
or make deals. If you're willing to testify on her behalf, you might get out of
this hellhole for a couple of days to return to Memphis.”
“What's it to you?”
“Simple. I believe she’s innocent.”
"Why would you care enough to do this?"
"I married her."
"I bet you're real popular at your precinct." Reed sat
down and folded his hands on the table. “Wilson and I went to trial together. I
was shocked when he involved his wife. Paige was charged separately. By the
time she went to trial, Wilson and I had already been sentenced.”
“Did he ever explain why he did it?”
“Yeah, said it was a favor to his mom.”
“Would you be willing to testify to that in court?”
"I tried. I contacted the prosecutors during Paige's trial
and told them what Wilson told me. It didn't matter then, so why would it
now?"
"Did you contact her attorney with this information?"
"After I talked with the prosecution, someone beat the hell
out of me. By the time I got out of the infirmary, she'd been sentenced. I
figured my beating had something to do with what I told them. I kept my mouth
shut."
"This means someone in the judicial system was in for a cut
of the drug money."
The clean-cut ex-cop sat quietly while considering Brance’s
request. Finally, he spoke. “There are those who might not like me testifying.
Clouding up the water again. Wilson worked with someone else, but he never told
me who. They probably thought Paige could name them and wanted her out of the
picture.”
“She wants her son back. She doesn’t even have visitation
privileges. And there's a chance a judge won't give her custody over Wilson’s
parents. If she doesn't get him back, it’ll kill her. She's desperate to clear
her name.”
The man gave a surrendering sigh. “I’ll do it.”
“I’ll have my attorney, Terry Cross contact you soon.” Brance
offered his hand. “Thanks.”
"Hey, if I get out of here to testify, I want a fifteen
ounce steak, medium rare with a loaded potato.”
“You got it.”
***
Thursday afternoon, Allison tried to study for her state exam
while she waited for Brance. But she couldn’t concentrate on anything but their
appointment with the attorney. When she heard his car, she put her book away
and met him at the door. “We only have twenty minutes to get there.”
“We’ll make it. Got good news.”
“Tell me about it on the way.”
In the car, Brance reached over and patted her knee. “Reed
verified Wilson set you up as a favor to his mother.” He glanced over at her.
“That alone isn't enough for a court of appeals to consider your request, but
considering he told the same thing to the prosecution during your trial and
they withheld it, that turns this around. They ignored the information that
could've cleared you, and instead they railroaded you through a trial.”
Allison swallowed back her joy. She didn’t want to get excited.
“That’d be great.”
“I thought you’d be happier.”
“I’ve been burned so many times, I’m afraid to hope.”
Allison tried to relax. But how could she? What if the attorney
told them there wasn’t any hope of getting Nathan back? The justice system had
already screwed her over once. What if the judge turned down their request?
“Everything will work out.”
Brance's words caused a shiver to run down her spine. Those had
been Jill’s words. Jill, the friend who’d betrayed her just as much as the
others.
Brance loves you.
Every alibi and excuse Rob had given her started with—“darling, I
love you. You know I do.” And maybe he had at first, but later they had been
empty words to keep her under his thumb.
Brance is different. He’s not like Rob.
But he might change. Even become bitter for the sacrifices he’s
made.
At the attorney's office, the secretary led them into a small
conference room. She sat in a leather chair. Brance sat beside her. She
couldn’t stop twisting the strap of her purse as she eagerly waited for the
attorney to join them.
The middle-aged man walked in and sat across from them. "I'm
Mark Nelson." He offered her a kind smile. “Nervous?”
“Very,” Allison admitted. Her face must’ve shown her distress.
"Calm down." Brance pulled her hand from her purse
strap and squeezed it. He explained the situation. “Terry Cross recommended
you. He’s been my attorney for years, but he thought you’d do a better job
since you specialize in child custody cases.”
"He called me and explained the situation."
“Good. Then you know Terry has filed a petition with the Court of
Appeals. We have new evidence that was withheld during her trial.”
"Usually lesser offenses are denied. However, if exonerated,
Allison will be given custody of her child with just a few formalities and a
little red tape to get through,” the attorney stated. "The court might
oversee a slow transition between the two homes."