Love Inspired Suspense January 2014 (78 page)

Josh slapped his hands together, jolting Andrea nearly out of her skin. “Before we do, let's go with that whole gym socks thing. Whaddaya say? I can psychoanalyze you this time.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Want to go in the den so you can lay on the couch? Every time I dreamed of being a psychologist, I dreamed I had a couch.”

“You never dreamed of being a psychologist. You majored in sports medicine.”

His eyebrow arched high, pulling at the bruise on his cheek. “And you know this how?”

There went that pink blush again. “Maybe your mom told my mom.”

“Mmm-hmm.” While that was a path he'd like to meander down, there wasn't much time before someone came in and caught them with the latest evidence. With the dressing down he'd received from Detective Simmons earlier, if they were busted again it wouldn't go easy. “So, smelly...dirty...” He rolled his hand as if asking her for more images.

Andrea swallowed hard and squeezed her eyebrows together. “Gym clothes...lockers...” She stopped breathing. Excitement widened her eyes. “High school. Our gym lockers had combination locks. Mine started with a double zero.” She gripped Josh's right biceps and he tried not to wince as the motion jerked at his elbow. “Just like that one.” Yanking her hands from his arm, she fluttered them in front of her face as though the action would make the memories come faster. “That's a combination to a lock.” She reached into her pocket and yanked out her phone, scrolling through the screens. “And locks lock lockers—”

“Or storage units.” Josh straightened and gestured to her phone. “That other message was a storage unit, wasn't it?”

A tap on the door frame ended their furtive guesses. Andrea slipped her phone into her pocket as they turned.

Detective Simmons stood in the kitchen entry. “You guys look as guilty as two kids playing hooky on the first day of senior year.”

Josh arched an eyebrow. The woman was growing on him, becoming more of an ally every second. “I think we found something.”

“Where and when? You haven't left this apartment since that shot was fired.”

Josh waved her closer, then shifted to make room for her at the cabinet. “Y'all find the shooter?”

Detective Simmons's steps across the white linoleum were as measured as her demeanor. “No. But we found where he holed up—in the tree line on the other side of the parking lot. The angle he had on this place would have allowed him to hit Cameron and still hit that window. But I'm going to tell you...” Her gaze pegged Andrea. “He's a crack shot to have hit Cameron from that angle and at that distance. He missed you on purpose.”

Josh met her eyes over the detective's shoulder. Just like he'd said. “They're out to scare her.”

“That'd be my guess.” Detective Simmons focused on the red scrawl. “How did you find that?”

“Looking for a glass,” Josh replied.

“Either of you touch it?”

Josh shook his head and aimed a finger at the front edge of the door. “Just that part there, when I pulled it open. I wasn't sure what you needed to check, so I was careful.”

She shot him an impressed glance. “Ever thought of being a cop when you retire?”

“I don't plan to retire.”

“Old soldiers never die,” she muttered. “I'd say nice work, but that would make me sound like a TV cop, wouldn't it?” She removed gloves from her pocket and pulled them on with a snap. “I'll get someone in here to photograph it. You two have any more theories to pitch?”

Before either of them could say anything, a uniformed officer appeared at the door. “We found something.”

Simmons nodded and headed for the door. “You two clear out. You can't hang around until we've gone through this place. Just stay low.” She left before either of them could say anything.

Andrea's shoulders slumped. “My apartment is a crime scene. My office is a crime scene. I've got nowhere to go.”

“One thing at a time.” He tugged at her hand, desperate to shake her out of what was certain to be a spiral into shock. “Simmons said the words. We're free to go. Anywhere you want.”

“Anywhere out of rifle range.” The fight inside her played out across her face. The instant she won, it was obvious in her expression. Her eyes opened. “Maybe I just need food.” Andrea grabbed her keys from the counter and shoved them into her pocket, then glanced around. “Somewhere without windows.”

Josh watched her and wondered how much longer this would go on. His four-day weekend ended tomorrow. She'd planned to reopen the counseling center. Time to protect her was running out.

Someone cleared his throat and jerked their attention to the door. The man Andrea had been talking with at the church yesterday stood watching them. He stepped up and extended a hand to Josh. “Detective Martin.”

“Josh Walker.”

The detective's grip was steady, his eyes serious. “Detective Simmons had a few questions for you about what you found up here.”

Josh nodded, though his stomach protested so loudly, he knew everyone heard it. Now that things had calmed down, all he could think about was food.

Detective Martin arched an eyebrow.

Andrea whacked Josh in the abs with the back of her hand. “Leave it to you to start thinking with your stomach.”

He rubbed the spot like she'd wounded him. “What can I say? Near-death experiences make me ravenous.”

“Then I should be dead of starvation.”

As Josh started to walk away, Andrea moved to follow him, but Detective Martin held up a hand. “I've got a couple guys going over to the center to check out a few things, but I assume your office is locked.”

“If you want, I can give you the key. How's that?” Andrea pulled the key ring from her pocket.

“Perfect.”

Josh waited as she twisted the key off, but she waved him away. “Don't just stand there, Walker. Women and children are starving. Go answer her questions.”

“You sure?”

She leveled a gaze on him like his mother used to do when he wasn't moving fast enough to stow his ball glove and mow the lawn.

He flipped a salute and was halfway down the stairs when she called, “And see if she can arrange an armored car for us.”

Josh chuckled and descended the stairs, scanning the apartment's parking lot. A uniformed officer stood on the sidewalk, and Josh stopped. “You know where Detective Simmons went?”

The man pointed toward the trees, where Detective Simmons was heading toward the wood line, crossing the small lawn. Josh jogged across the parking lot and caught her as she reached the trees.

She tipped her head to the side. “Think of something else, First Sergeant?”

“Detective Martin said you wanted to ask me a few more questions.”

Her expression hardened before she shook her head. “I'm the only detective here. We don't have a Detective Martin.”

FIFTEEN

D
etective Martin watched Josh leave, then turned to Andrea. He let her fiddle with the key ring for a second, then glanced at his watch. “Would you mind walking out with me while you wrestle that thing? They've put me on a timeline. Sooner I get over there and back, the better.”

She shrugged. “No problem.”

He stepped through the door onto the cement walkway ahead of her, glancing both ways, then motioned her forward. “Heard you found another piece of Cameron's puzzle.”

Andrea nodded, abandoning her keys as she navigated the steep steps. “Detective Simmons is working on it. And we think we've figured out what it is.” She grunted as her forehead crashed into the shoulder of the detective, who had stopped dead at the foot of the stairs.

He stood there, his eyes on the parking lot, then grabbed her by the upper arm and dragged her toward the thin stretch of asphalt. “You figured it out?”

Her feet tripping under her, Andrea skidded along behind the detective and tried to jerk her arm away. “A storage unit. But—” she yanked again “—what are you doing?”

The midsummer blast of air when they stepped into the sunlight was heavy and warm. Andrea had a tough time taking in a satisfying breath.

“We're going to where you can tell me what you know.”

The ambulance Andrea had seen pull in earlier was backed up to the sidewalk. Before she could protest, Detective Martin shoved her inside, climbed in after her and yanked the door shut. “Go. Now.” His voice rang deep and angry.

The ambulance lurched forward, and Andrea turned back to the man in front of her.

He studied her with eyes that glittered hard, and reality crashed in. She was in a wide-awake nightmare with no way out. She wanted to scream, wanted to run, wanted to do something, but no sound or movement would come. The moment she opened her mouth, the man who called himself Detective Martin was on her, his hand blocking any sound.

God, help me.

“Don't,” he ground out through gritted teeth. “You're only alive now because you're the only person who holds the information we need, but don't think I'll hesitate to shut you up by any means necessary.” His fingers pinched her skin so tight she could feel bruises rising.

He pinned her to the seat until the ambulance picked up speed and Andrea knew they were on the main road. Once they were a safe distance from her apartment, Martin backed away. He pulled a pistol from his pocket and braced it on the seat beside him, not physically threatening her, but letting her know without words that she dare not try anything.

She drew in a welcome breath and eyed the oxygen tank, wishing for a jolt of pure air but surprised at the deep calm she felt. Her heart raced triple time, but her mind dragged slower, methodically thinking through every option. From here, there was nothing she could do. Her goal was to stay alive until someone figured out she was gone and came after her.

But who knew how long that would take?

Andrea squared her shoulders, bound and determined to show her attacker he didn't scare her, even though her pulse rate said otherwise. “You're no detective.”

“Very good.” He tipped his head toward the front of the vehicle.

“How did you get so close to me? Yesterday, you were at the church. And today...”

He shrugged. “When you're there before the area's taped off, it's easy to blend in. When I started asking you questions and dropped the right names, you made a lot of stupid assumptions about who I am. And everyone who saw me talking to you assumed I was someone you knew. It wasn't that hard. I just stayed out of your detective's way.” He leaned forward, false compassion burning in his eyes. “Next time someone tells you they're a cop, you should ask to see a badge.” He sat back and patted his pockets with his free hand. “Seems I left mine at home.”

Stupid. She and Josh had done a lot of dumb things the past few days, but not asking to see ID on the man questioning her was the worst.

“Don't beat yourself up too much. We've been doing this a long time in a lot of places. You're an amateur up against pros. It was only a matter of time before you stumbled.” The man leaned forward so that his face was inches from hers. “Now. Tell me what you figured out. You can start with that last piece of information First Sergeant Walker found.”

Andrea shook her head and backed as far as she could against the wall, digging her voice up from where it had plummeted to her toes. “I do that, and you'll kill me right here.”

He sat back and tapped his finger on the gun, still flat on the seat beside him. “I think we've already proven more than once we're not out to kill you. We don't need your blood on our hands.”

“You're lying. You killed Wade, so there's no reason you wouldn't take me out next.”

His eyebrow arched as he tipped his head to the side. “You're way too smart to have fallen for something as stupid as me being a cop.” He chuckled. “You're right. But look at it this way. Either way you're dead. At least make it mean something.”

“You're out of luck. Without all of the pieces, you don't have enough information to locate and access.”

She sat back, arms crossed, allowing a look of triumph to creep onto her face. He could kill her if he wanted, but he wasn't going to get a thing out of her for the trouble.

“Check her cell phone.” The voice came from the front of the ambulance.

For the first time, Andrea considered the driver.

It was the young paramedic who had worked on her earlier. He'd been in and out of the apartment the entire time she and Josh talked, practically invisible to her.

Her jaw fell open before she could stop it.

The fake detective chuckled low. “See, Ms. Donovan? You just can't win.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Now you can hand your phone over, or I can take it by force.”

Andrea considered her options. There was nowhere to run in the crowded back of the ambulance, and he definitely had the size advantage, not to mention the gun.

Conceding to temporary defeat, she passed the phone to him as the ambulance slowed.

Martin flicked through, then pulled out his own cell phone and pressed the screen. “Yeah. It's me. If I'm deciphering this right, it's the storage place at 5977 Whitesville Road. You were right about it being this side of town.” He flipped through her phone again. “Looks like the unit you're looking for is D-4 and the combination is probably 00-12-30.”

And just like that, the men who'd pursued her knew everything. As the ambulance made a gentle turn, she swayed with it, helplessness weighing her.

They were hardly stopped before the doors swung open to reveal two men, guns trained on them. For one heartbeat, Andrea sagged in relief. She was safe.

But then the barrels turned to her and she knew... There was no way she was getting out of this alive.

* * *

By the time Josh yanked open the door to the apartment, his lungs were near exploding. A shot of cool air burned in his chest, and it was a moment before he could call out for her. “Andrea!”

Nothing. The only movement in the entire room was the window blind swaying in the breeze.

He was in the middle of the kitchen when Detective Simmons and two other officers bolted through the doors. “They here?”

Josh aimed a finger at the hallway, the habit of command driving him to take charge, to do something. “Check the rest of the place.” He hoped against every negative thought in him that this Martin character had locked her in her bedroom and hadn't somehow managed to make off with her right under everyone's noses.

The kitchen and den looked no different than when he'd left a couple of minutes before. He spun back into the hallway in time to catch Detective Simmons's curt head shake.

Andrea and the fake detective couldn't have disappeared into vapor. He gripped the back of his neck. Then again, Cameron had done the same thing to him just a few days ago. Vanished, evaporated. He rolled his eyes heavenward. Only this time, there was no way they'd crawled through the ceiling.

“Has anyone left the scene?” One of the uniforms near Simmons spoke into his radio and waited for an answer.

The squawk came immediately. “Just the ambulance. About five minutes ago.”

Josh's stomach seemed to hit the soles of his running shoes. The ambulance. The one he'd stepped aside to let pass in the parking lot as he made the mad dash back to the building with the officers on his tail.

Detective Simmons's mouth drew into a grim line. She snatched the radio from the officer's hand. “Track down that ambulance. Now. Our suspects have Andrea Donovan in it.” She smacked the radio against the officer's chest and stalked across the room to Josh. “We will find her.”

She was gone with the other officers before he could respond, leaving him alone to kick himself in the teeth. He sank onto the same ottoman where he'd comforted Andrea two days before. This was it. This time there was no denying his culpability. He'd killed her.

No. Even as he thought it, he shot to his feet. There was no way he'd give up, not until he had her back. Not until every last option died in front of his eyes. This was different than staring helplessly at charred wreckage. This time, there was hope.

* * *

The danger hadn't fully seeped in when Martin stepped down from the ambulance then reached up and, ironically, helped Andrea to the ground. She was shuffled into the backseat of a white SUV and seated between the new guys with guns before she could get her bearings. By the time her trouble sank in all the way and she figured out they were in the parking lot of her church, the ambulance and Martin were gone.

“Well, Ms. Andrea. Here we are.” A familiar voice drifted from the front seat, washing relief over the fear and ebbing the tension from her muscles.

Safe! She was safe. Only... She still sat here between two armed men. A wave of relief crested on panicked uncertainty. As strange as everything had been up until now, this really felt like her sanity was gone. “Mr. Miller?”

The man turned from the front passenger seat, his round face hard behind eyes that glittered. “You should have listened early on. Then we wouldn't be where we are now.”

This was not the man who daily brought her coffee. Who smiled and laughed and teased her about whom she should marry someday. This was a man with a jaw set into a hard line by contempt. “I'm not... I don't...” Her thoughts wouldn't form; the words couldn't come. The world felt as if it were spinning out of control. Seeking a solid place, her fingers sought the edge of the seat, but grasped the knee of the giant beside her instead.

He laughed.

Jerking her hand back, she clasped her hands between her knees so tightly her fingertips went numb. “I don't understand.”

“What is there to understand? When you moved into the building, I first thought having you near would be a nuisance, at best. But then I realized the easy pickings of a rehab clinic right next door. So I tried a little experiment with Mr. Cameron. As it turns out, it doesn't take much to tempt a man back into old habits.”

An experiment? On Wade? Why would it matter to Mr. Miller whether or not Wade stayed clean and sober? Unless... The SUV seemed to wobble beneath her, and she clasped her palms tighter together, biting the inside of her lip.

One of the gunmen shifted away from her. “If she loses her breakfast, I'm shooting her.”

“Weak stomach, Taylor?” Mr. Miller shook his head. “Never would have thought that of you.”

“You know better. I got new shoes.”

It was too bad the nausea waned as the seconds ticked away. Ruining expensive leather might have been fitting payback, even if it did get her killed. Still, it took a minute for her jaw to ease so she could speak. “You're the reason Wade relapsed? You're the one selling drugs? You're the reason I was under surveillance by the cops?” Anger rose and squashed fear. Every accusation that had been leveled at her had come from this man, who had pretended to be her friend so he could keep an eye on her patients, on her. “You listened in on my sessions to find my patients' weaknesses and turn them into your customers?”

“Just Cameron so far. We were just getting started.”

The betrayal didn't fuel the fire half so much as his callous indifference toward Wade. “You ruined his life.”

“Good thing it was a short life.”

Andrea lunged at him, her shoulders nearly clearing the front seat before one of the guards grabbed her hair and yanked her back, shooting fire through her scalp. Tears clawed at her eyes, but she refused to let them come. These men weren't dealing with a weak-kneed crybaby who'd back down just because they threatened her. If they wanted something from her, they'd have to fight for it. In spite of the pain, she prepared to lunge again, but a corded forearm pressed against her neck, forcing her back in the seat.

She breathed hard and forced her muscles to relax. There were too many questions, and if these men planned to kill her, she planned to make them talk as much as possible before they did. “Why try to shut me down?”

“You started talking to the cops. Your little operation was more liability than profit maker at that moment. You should have taken off like we asked you to.”

“Asked? Or bullied?”

He shrugged, bouncing slightly as the driver pressed the gas and tore them out of the parking lot toward Veterans Parkway.

“I started talking to the police because your
friend
tried to kidnap me.”

“Nice try. You've been watching us and feeding information to your fake homeless friend for quite some time, have you not?”

“What? Dutch?” Again, everything made less and less sense. “He's a homeless vet who empties my trash.”

“He's a detective.”

“What?” The word would have been a whisper even if the giant beside her hadn't pressed harder on her windpipe. All of those missing puzzle pieces clicked into place. Dutch's near-constant presence. His questions. The gun. He'd been watching her all along, likely seeing her friendship with the gas station owner as convicting evidence.