One Week To Live (27 page)

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Authors: Joan Beth Erickson

Tags: #Suspense, #Contemporary

BOOK: One Week To Live
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“Who else can I talk to?” Joe asked. “There could be two victims in that building.”

“Does this involve that nursery rhyme case?”

“Yeah. Someone has to order the implosion be delayed so we can get inside. I can’t reach the police chief.”

“Word is he’s on vacation this week.”

“Shit,” Joe muttered.

Brian squirmed in his seat. Time ticked by far too rapidly.

“My orders are to keep everyone behind the police barricade,” the cop said, removing his hat and rubbing his head before putting it back on.

Not wanting to wait any longer, he jumped from the car, ducked under the roadblock tape, and sprinted toward the chain link fence ignoring the cop yelling at him to stop. He threw himself at the fence, struggling up and over with Joe right behind him.

“You’re going to cost me my job,” Joe huffed, landing on his feet with a thump. “Or maybe our lives.”

“She’s in there, I know she is,” Brian said, continuing to run toward the hulking shell of a building. Part of it already lay in ruin, a crumbled pile of concrete and rebar. Dodging the rubble, he kept going. Bright searchlights began to play across the building’s façade.

“Hey,” someone yelled. “Get out of here! The building is about to blow!”

“It’s nothing but a shell,” he said to Joe, ignoring the warning. He stared up at gaping holes where windows used to be.

Joe trained his flashlight inside one of the lower floors. Everything was stripped away, leaving nothing but emptiness where room walls once stood. “Where could they be?”

“I don’t know, but they’re in there somewhere,” Brian replied, fighting the doubt threatening to surface.

A loud horn sounded.

The construction worker who’d just yelled at them appeared. “Didn’t you hear me? Get out now! The fifteen-minute warning just sounded. Soon the whole building will collapse in a heap. You’re standing near the planned impact point.”

“Who’s in charge?” Joe yelled, flashing his badge. “They must stop the implosion. There may be people inside.”

“You can’t stop it now. Everything is on timers set in a specific sequence. First the fireworks will go off followed by the implosion and collapse of the building. There’s no stopping it. We have to leave.”

“How the hell do you get in there?” Brian shouted, surveying the exterior with his flashlight.

“There’s only one way in. It’s over there,” the construction guy said. “You can’t go in. There’s no time.”

Ignoring the man, he ran toward the entrance the worker pointed out. He rushed inside the building to what was once the lobby. The construction worker and Joe followed him in.

Stepping over the concrete rubble littering the floor, he searched the cavernous room with his flashlight. He spotted stairs at the far end. “Where do those go?”

“The lower level meeting rooms,” the worker said following them. “But there’s no one down there. The implosion crew worked throughout the building for the past several days drilling holes and placing dynamite and charges. If anyone is in there, they’d have seen them.”

“When were they in the basement last?” he asked, making his way down the stairs.

“They start at the bottom of a building and work their way up,” the construction guy said, following him.

“So it could be a few days since someone checked the area?”

“The security people sweep the place after the implosion team finishes. They’d notice anything suspicious.” The construction worker pressed the button on his watch. “Ten minutes to detonations. We better get out of here.”

“I’m not going anywhere until I find Angie and Polly.” He’d die before he’d give up trying to find them. Wasn’t it said that if someone is willing to die for someone it must be true love? He’d loved before, but never like this. He didn’t want to live without Angie. This painful realization hit him squarely in the heart.

****

Holding Polly, Angie stumbled through the darkness, her head throbbing from the bump she’d received when she’d fallen. She still wondered where she was. She’d been tripping and stumbling around the cavernous space for some time, but hadn’t found a way out. She hated being so disoriented.

She didn’t understand why Tucker left them tied up in the dark. Since his plan included revenge, why hadn’t he already killed them? It must mean he’d eventually return to finish the job. He wanted her to suffer more before he did.

A loud horn echoed in the darkness. She listened, but it stopped before she could figure out where it came from. If she’d gotten a fix on the sound, she might be able to follow it to an exit. Unfortunately, she hadn’t. She clung tighter to Polly.

“You’re hurting me,” the kid yelled, trying to wiggle out of her arms before bursting into more sobs.

She needed to save her precious grandchild if it was the last thing she did. She thought of Brian again. Would she ever see his wonderful green eyes again, feel his gentle lips on hers, touch his freckled face? What had he said once? A face without freckles was a night without stars. She longed for that crazy, wonderful humor right now.

Thirst and hunger gnawed at her along with growing fear. She couldn’t die here. She stumbled on through the dark, one faltering step after another. She shifted Polly to her right hip and extended her left hand in front of her, not wanting to slam into something she couldn’t see.

She peered through darkness searching for anything that might lead her out of this place. Then she saw it, a faint sliver of light. Were her eyes playing tricks on her?

The light bobbled and died. She continued toward where she’d seen it. As she did, it reappeared. Her hand touched something solid, a door. It stood slightly ajar allowing only a minimal amount of light to slip through. She shoved on the door. It wouldn’t budge. Her momentary relief vanished.

She put her left shoulder into it and shoved hard hoping to move whatever blocked the way. It still wouldn’t budge. She needed both hands. She gently slipped Polly from her arms. “Don’t wander off, honey.” Using both hands, she continued to shove. To her surprise, tiny Polly tried to help her by pushing on the door, too.

Thinking she heard voices, she stopped for a minute and listened. Yes, she definitely heard voices. She yelled out and continued to push against the door. She prayed this time the people were close enough to hear her. She wanted to escape before Tucker returned.

****

Brian heard it first, the faint sound of someone calling out. He scanned his flashlight beam around the remains of the ballroom reception area. He again heard the distant cry along with a banging noise. He stepped over the rubble and followed the sound. The flashlight beam caught a door cracked slightly open. Was someone trying to push on it from the other side? A pile of broken concrete pieces blocked it. Mindless of tripping hazards, he rushed across the floor toward the door.

“Angie,” he called out.

“Help,” someone pleaded.

“Angie, is that you?”

“Brian,” she sobbed.

“Thank God.” Relief and happiness filled him. He pulled at the door but couldn’t move it because of the debris in front of it. He had to remove the rubble nearest the door before she could escape. Thinking of how little time remained, he fought panic. He could hear Polly’s cries. He looked over at the construction worker.

“Time’s running out, man,” the guy said. “Less than ten minutes to go.”

“We have to save them.”

“With the proper equipment, we could easily get rid of that stuff, but all the equipment is gone.”

“We have these,” Brian said, waving his hands in front of the worker’s face. “I’m not going to let them die.”

“Brian,” she sobbed. “Get us out of here.”

“I will. Don’t panic.”

Putting down his flashlight, he grabbed pieces of concrete and heaved them aside. Joe joined him. Together they worked feverishly mindful of the ticking clock. The construction guy disappeared. When he returned, several other workers came with him. They, too, began to hurl concrete and twisted rebar out of the way.

“Thanks,” Brian said, continuing to work.

“Murphy?” Dunning called out.

“Over here,” Brian shouted, continuing to remove debris without stopping.

“You know the building is about to be imploded,” Dunning said, arriving at his side.

“Angie and Polly are trapped behind that door.” Brian mopped sweat from his brow with the edge of his T-shirt.

Without another word, the special agent stooped and began pitching broken concrete pieces.

When they finally got the door opened far enough for them to escape, only five minutes remained. Angie handed Polly out to Dunning and then squeezed out herself. She fell into Brian’s arms sobbing. He held her close, drinking in her wonderful softness as she pressed against him. He fought the tears of relief flooding his eyes. Maybe men weren’t supposed to cry, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Come on, you two lovebirds,” Dunning said. “There’s less than five minutes before this building blows.”

“Blows?” Angie looked at Brian. “What does he mean?”

Brian grabbed her hand. “I’ll explain later. The man’s right. It’s time to make tracks.”

Exiting the building, they needed to get away from the blast zone quickly. However, climbing back over the fence wasn’t an option. He looked over at one of the construction workers.

“This way,” the man shouted. “Follow me. There’s a gate in the fence.”

****

As they reached the police barricade, the fireworks erupted with a load boom. A cheer rang out from the gathered crowd. Angie and Brian ducked under the barricade tape and squeezed into the throng standing behind it.

“Hey, mister,” a guy yelled as he elbowed Brian out of the way. “We were here first. Move it.”

“We’re staying right where we are,” Brian muttered, glaring at the man.

“You want to make something of it,” the guy replied, handing his beer to his girlfriend.

“I might,” he said, balling his fists up.

“Brian, no,” Angie cautioned. His adrenaline ran as high as hers. However, they didn’t need a fistfight.

Seeing trouble brewing, Dunning cut between Brian and the troublemaker. “Step back,” he said to the beer-toting guy. “And you, Brian, cool it.”

“Who are you?” the guy demanded.

“The Feds,” Dunning said, pulling his badge out of his pants pocket and flashing it. “You don’t want to mess with me.”

Saying nothing, the guy backed away.

“Let’s stand over there by the police vehicles,” Dunning said.

They complied with his order. She could tell Brian’s anger still simmered just below the surface. He wanted a fight, a way to get rid of pent-up emotions. Her emotions were mixed. She wanted to laugh with relief and at the same time cry. She took a shaky breath finding it difficult to believe that she’d been rescued from the prison she’d been trapped in. Thanks to Brian, she’d escaped certain death. He was her hero and much more.

Dunning held Polly in his arms, stroking her back to soothe her sobs. It amazed her that a man who normally appeared so rigid and inflexible could transform into a caring, loving person with Polly.

“Do you have children, Special Agent Dunning?” she asked.

He nodded. “A boy of nine and a girl about Polly’s age. They’re in Washington with their mother. We’re divorced.”

The crowd cheered as the fireworks moved into high gear. They spilled off the rooftop in a brilliant red waterfall that cascaded down the building’s face. Then countless multihued showers shot skyward lighting the night in sparkling bursts of color.

She glanced over at Polly. Her sobs ceased. Her eyes no longer held tears. Instead they reflected wonder as she gazed at the pyrotechnic display illuminating the sky. Many youngsters hid from the loud noise accompanying the fireworks, but she didn’t. She was a trouper, a person any grandmother could be proud of.

“I’ve called for an ambulance,” Dunning shouted. “Polly needs to be looked at. Her mother’s going to meet her at the hospital.”

Angie nodded. “I’ll ride with Polly if that’s okay. She shouldn’t be alone with strangers.”

Brian studied her for a minute, brushing her hair back from her face. “You’ve got a hell of a bump on your forehead.”

She winced at his touch, and gingerly surveyed the spot.

“While you’re at the hospital have that looked at,” he said. “Joe can give me a ride. I’ll meet you there.”

She nodded. She wasn’t looking forward to confronting Susan a second time and wanted Brian by her side. She attempted to focus on the fireworks, but she couldn’t ignore the nerves now knotting her stomach. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him.

“It will be okay,” he said, kissing her cheek.

He must sense her uneasiness, but his encouraging words fell short. A loud explosion drew their attention back to the building. Huge fireballs burst from the building’s interior in a show of scourging heat and fiery orange flames. The implosion followed in a choreographed set of explosions. Dust and debris puffed from the structure increasing in intensity as they set off each charge. The building then crumbled in on itself in slow motion leaving a heap of rubble and a cloud of dust.

The building’s rubble sat in a huge pile that filled their former basement prison. If he hadn’t rescued them, they would be buried beneath that pile without anyone knowing they were there. She shuddered.

Looking at him, she saw her own terror mirrored in his eyes. The comfort of his embrace melted away some of the fear she still harbored.

“I almost lost you,” he whispered, tears choking his words. “Dear God, if I hadn’t arrived in time.”

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