His Devious Angel (20 page)

“Is that the missing Pomeranian?” Stan reached over to help pull the worst of the branches from the dog’s mangled coat. At the same time, he awkwardly patted.

“This is Peppi—the runaway. Smartest of the lot—and trust me, Sadie has trained all these animals on tricks you wouldn’t believe.”

Liam gladly put up with having his face washed as he cleaned the worst of the mess off the little guy. He must be getting soft. The surprising gush of gladness he’d felt upon sight of the tiny fellow wouldn’t be admitted or shared. That loss of “macho” would be his secret.

“Either we’ll have to take the mutt along or…or take him back to the car? What do you think?” The hesitation before the last part of his sentence emphasized Stan’s choice. 

Going back wasn’t his option either, and so he followed his gut. “We’ll take him with us. If I give him the order to be quiet, he’ll listen.”

“Good. He came from that direction, so let’s go.”

“No. The barking is coming from the north.” Liam pointed in the opposite way.

“How would you know that?”

“Trust me. It’s my job to know.” Liam purposely shook his head and made a sad face.  “You city boys!”

“Screw you, soldier.”

“Look, I hate to beat a dead horse, but I’m trained to know night noise and how the wind carries—”

“Lead on, then, and quit jabbering.” Laughter spread over Stan’s face, and the friendly slap on Liam’s back settled the issue. Unforeseen delight speared through his innards. It felt unexpectedly good to be part of an alliance once more, and on a mission. It had been such a long time since he’d recognized and embraced such things, he reveled in the re-awakening.

As they approached the property, they saw exactly what Sadie had seen—a yard well lit between the back of a large house and small outbuildings scattered around a bigger imposing structure Liam took to be the barn.

Still carrying Peppi, who’d begun to growl, Liam leaned over to speak softly in his ear. “Peppi, quiet!”

Wriggling, straining, the agile pup loosened his grip, and before he could stop him, the dog landed on the ground and took off running. Knowing they needed to keep him in sight, the two men followed, staying low to the ground and crouching behind the plentiful bushes as they went.

Leaping up on a mound of hay piled next to a barn’s small window, Peppi looked in. Agitated, he danced madly in circles, performing for the men. Obviously he wanted them to see what he could see, and both Liam and Stan carefully advanced and looked into the same window.

“Son of a bit—” Stan’s hands shut off the rest of Liam’s expletive as he hauled him away from where they could be seen.

“Shut up! Stop struggling. If they get us, there’ll be no one to help her.”

“Screw you. Those bastards have Sadie tied up like some kind of fatted calf. I’ll kill them.”

“Not on my watch. Look, Liam. This isn’t just stealing a few dogs any longer. We’re talking kidnapping. We have to call for back-up.”

“You do that. I’m not waiting. That’s my girl in there.”

“You’ll do as I say.” Steel rang in the voice, authority taking over. “I’ll arrest you if you make any move without my say-so. Got it?” Pretty hard not to, when the guy’s angry mug loomed two inches away.

Liam took a breath and forced himself to cool down. “Got it!” Many times, he’d been the man in charge. He knew the difficulties that position held without having his men mutiny against his orders. On the contrary, they’d always respected him, and it was that which had saved their asses a number of times in battle.

“You okay now?” Stan searched his eyes and accepted his nod of affirmation. “I’m calling it in.”

“What if there’s only one or two guys here? We could take them, couldn’t we?”

“How the hell are we gonna find that out?”

“I’ve got an idea. Do you have a pen?” Stan rummaged in his top pocket. “What are you doing?”

“Right now there’s only one guy in the back area washing a very unhappy Nicki. Good thing he’s got a muzzle on that Shepherd, and has his neck held in a holder or he’d be mincemeat. Nicki hates men. Good thing Sadie’s facing away from him. He’s tied her to the chair but her hands are in front. If I can get Peppi to take her this note, she’ll let us know how many there are.”

“How the hell can she do that? Her mouth is gagged.”

“Watch and learn my friend.” Liam gave Peppi the note and an order. “Give this to Sadie. Good boy. Go.”

Both men crowded at the dirty window and watched as the dog slunk into the barn and hurried over to the girl. They knew when she caught sight of him by the stiffening of her body. And when he passed over the paper, she caught on quickly. Not being able to see them didn’t deter her from following instructions.  The dog stayed next to her on the ground and watched for his orders. Soon, they saw him sit, and then he barked twice.

“There are two men.”

“You’re positive?”

“Yeah!” The surety in Liam’s voice made his pronouncement indisputable.

Peppi’s barking had alerted Hank, and the chase was on. Finally he cornered the poor little guy and seized him cruelly. “Come ’ere, you rotten pest. Look at the mess you’re in. It’ll take me an hour to clean you up.” He smacked the dog across the muzzle to stop Peppi’s furious noises and carried him toward the grooming section in the barn.

Stan held Liam back once again until he calmed down. Then, speaking from the side of his mouth, his gaze riveted on the happenings inside the barn, he asked, “What did you write?”

‘I asked her how many men were here,” Liam muttered. His eyes stayed glued to the girl who’d stirred up longings he’d never dreamed he would feel.

“How did she tell…? Never mind. You can fill me in later.” Stan put his unused cell phone back into his pocket, then backed away from the window and said, “You stay here and watch. I’m going to find the other dude. If I can contain him, we’ll go in and get your girl.”

Liam nodded. Anger made speaking impossible without howling his rage. He’d never before been so personally involved in an operation of this kind. Fear and hatred ripped away the thin mantle of morality. He felt unbridled revulsion for another human being.  Punching that ugly face would give him so much satisfaction that he promised himself the treat before the night was over. And if the asshole touched his Sadie one more time, he’d kill him.

Gagged and tied to a chair, with no hope of anyone knowing her whereabouts, fear began to settle in the pit of Sadie’s stomach. All she could think about was Walt’s threat and the hunger in Hank’s eyes as he’d tied her arms and then let his hands seek out places to grope and pinch that he had no right touching.

Because he’d taken her sweater off and used it to tie her feet, the rough rope around her bare arms and wrists scraped tender skin—abrading and chafing. Bloody areas were visible where she’d worked at loosening them, and multiple bruises were already forming from the mean handling she’d received.

It didn’t lessen her determination to get loose. If anything, that became stronger. Neither one of those two bottom-feeders had given any care for the harsh treatment they’d inflicted. And that alone didn’t bode well for entreaties or possible future begging. In fact, she knew in her heart they’d enjoy her all the more in subjugation. Not that she’d give them the satisfaction if she could help it—IF she could help it?

She’d heard of women in these circumstances and had always pitied them, never once imagining she’d know personally the terror they’d felt. To make things worse, her full bladder screamed for release.  And the pounding in the back of her head wouldn’t let up. Images flashed, and she swallowed the screams forming in her mind. Oh, God!

Her gaze roamed, seeking for inspiration, hoping something hanging or leaning against the immaculate walls could eventually be used for a weapon…anything long and preferably sharp. Those scumbags needed to be taught a lesson, and she’d love to be their teacher.

Little chance of that happening, not with her tied to a chair and a gag stuck in her mouth. Then, like a dream come true, she spotted a hook very near to her chair. If only she could move closer and lift her hands enough... With her attention fully on this endeavor, she didn’t see Peppi slink in through the open door.

Once his two front paws planted themselves in her lap, she worried that Hank would see him. It wouldn’t go well if the poor little guy got caught. But when he thrust a piece of paper into her hands, she almost fainted. Luckily, when Hank tied her, she’d managed to wriggle enough that he hadn’t quite cut off her circulation. She had room to maneuver and read the note.

The relief coursing through her when she read the message—
Sunshine, Stan and I are outside. How many men are there? Get Peppi to tell us. L
—wouldn’t be something she’d soon forget. And if she survived this night, Mr. L would be sweetly rewarded, and then some.

Peppi hid by her feet, and she’d swear encouragement covered his little-doggie features. If he barked, Hank might get him. But she knew Stan and Liam needed the information. Overcoming her hesitation, she held up two fingers. After he barked twice, she waved him off—not quick enough.

The rough, fat bastard caught him, and her friend’s squeal of pain added more wounds to her already sore heart. What a sorry excuse for a human being! Promises of retribution settled in her head.

Stan stumbled around the perimeter. With the darkness fully settled, tree roots and branches, rocks, and uneven ground made the going difficult. Thank goodness the glow from the yard lights helped somewhat as he got closer.

Whimpers and cries from agitated puppies could be heard from inside a parked van, and his conscience gave him hell for ignoring those heart-wrenching noises.

He wanted to let them out. But he couldn’t…could he? Hey, all those freed puppies running around would bring the other dude into the open. Now where did that thought come from? Temptation overcoming training, he decided to follow his instincts.

He slithered along the side of the van and prayed the front door would be unlocked. With this type of vehicle, a lever on the driver’s floor would release the back and let him open the doors.

When he checked the lock in the window, the strangest thing happened. At first he could have sworn the lever was down, but right before his eyes, it sprang up. He twisted the handle and, sure enough, it was unlocked. Weird!

Creeping to the back of the vehicle, he quietly peeked inside, and a blast of fetid air hit him dead on. Whew, what a rancid smell! Poor puppies must have been locked in there for hours.

They were mighty glad to see him. Whines of delight from wiggling, ecstatic furballs made him smile, until they threw themselves against the doors. Before he knew what hit him, puppies were everywhere. Yipping and yapping with delight, they ran in circles around his feet and made such a racket that two men came running towards him from different directions, both waving guns and both pissed.

“Who the hell are you?” The dog-washer who’d come from the barn spoke with authority. Stan took him to be the boss.

Deciding to play dumb, Stan flung his arms in the air and tried to look like a normal guy in the wrong place at the wrong time.  “Hey, guys, cool it! I’m staying in a cabin down there and was just walking the beach when I heard puppies crying. Thought they were hurt, so I came to see.  I’m a sucker for dogs.” He used his most appealing smile and prayed it would work.

Obviously he didn’t appeal to either of the two in front of him. “Put your hands up and keep them there.” Hank motioned to Walt. “See if he’s carrying.”

Walt came up behind Stan, found the Glock tucked into his belt, and removed it. “Lookie what I found.” He waved it around like an idiot, which gave Stan the opening he needed. With a perfect maneuver from his training days, he swung around and whipped the gun from Walt’s hand. But before he could swing Walt in front of him, everything went black.

“You idiot! What the hell were you thinking, waving the stupid gun around? You’re lucky I’m quick on my feet, or he’da had us. Now stop being so careless…ow!” Hank danced around and lifted his leg with an angry golden retriever puppy hanging on the end of his jeans.  “Damn ankle biters! Throw the cop into the back of the van and use the duct tape so he can’t get loose.  Then help me catch these little suckers before I get fed up and use ’em for target practice.”

From the side of the barn, Liam watched the frenzied action happening near the van. Stan was down. He’d come around too late to help him, but he would take this time while the other two were occupied, and get his girl.