Scorched (31 page)

No response.

“Been seeing some other people around, too. People like Gage Brewer.” He waited for a reaction. “You said you took care of him in the desert.”

“Brewer won’t be a problem.”

“He’d better not be, or it’s on your head.”

Again, no response.

Trent lowered his binoculars and stepped away from the window. He checked his watch. “It’s nine
A.M
. in Hong Kong. You’ve got exactly three hours to make that transfer, or we’re pulling the plug.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a fact. We’re done fucking around, and we have a long reach. You might be able to slip away, but they won’t. Three hours.”

Dial tone.

Trent stuffed his gear into the backpack and slung it over his shoulder. He crossed the empty apartment and opened the door slightly. The hallway smelled like cooked fish. Trent checked for nosy neighbors, then made a beeline for the elevator bank, where a hunched old woman stood leaning on a cane. She’d already pressed the down button, and Trent avoided her gaze as he pulled off his unseasonably warm leather gloves and stuffed them in his pocket. The elevator doors dinged open. He waited impatiently as she hobbled on. Someone in the corner reached over to hold the door for her.

“Thank you, dear.”

“No problem.”

Trent stepped in behind her, and the doors started to close.

•   •   •

Kelsey’s gaze met his. For a split second, shock. Then adrenaline took over and she lunged through the closing doors. Her jacket snagged. He had her. She let out an ear-piercing shriek as she twisted free of the fabric and raced down the hallway. A muffled curse behind her as the elevator thudded shut.

Her heart skittered with relief, but it was short-lived as she glanced up and down the corridor. What floor was she on? Where were the stairs? Behind her, at the far end of the hallway, an exit sign. She bolted for it. She shoved the door open and found herself in a concrete stairwell. A door banged open below. Footsteps echoed through the chamber like gunshots as Trent sprinted up.

She took the steps two at a time and shoved through the door at the very top. The rooftop terrace. She raced to the wall and peered down at the neighboring building. Fear zinged through her now as she realized she’d underestimated the drop.

A door squeaked open. Footfalls, coming fast. Kelsey scrambled over the wall and dropped onto the adjacent building, landing hard on the concrete. She scampered to her feet and sprinted past a row of planters to the door.

Locked!
She saw the keypad beneath the doorknob. She cupped her hand and peered through the glass. A workout room. Treadmills. Weight machines. Every damn one of them empty.

She glanced over her shoulder. No Trent. Did he know she was here? She scampered around the side of the building and hid from view as her breath came in shallow gasps and she tried to get her bearings. Terror gripped her as she looked around and saw nothing but rooftops and clouds.

A muffled
thud.
The rapid slap of footsteps.

She rushed to the far wall and looked over. Another building, thank God, but it was at least a ten-foot drop. She glanced around desperately. A metal utility ladder led down. She made a run for it. In the corner of her eye, a dark blur.

She lunged for the ladder and practically slid down the rungs, cutting her hands on the rails as she went. She glanced around. This building was older. No plants, no workout room up here—only a giant vent and a cinder-block structure, which she fervently hoped had an access door. She sprinted to it and dashed around the corner. Relief spurted through her as she spied the door. No keypad this time, but it was locked. She peered through the dusty window.

Footsteps.

On a burst of panic, she jerked the cap from her head and used it to protect her fist as she punched through the glass. The shattering noise sent a shot of terror through her as she stuck her arm inside and groped for a latch.

Please, please, please.

Her fingers encountered the bolt. She flipped it, jerked her arm back through the window, and yanked open the door just as a dark shape rounded the corner.

Screaming, she dove through the doorway and into the stairwell. Pain burned her scalp as he grabbed her
by the ponytail. She mule-kicked backward and connected with his body.

“Fucking
bitch
!”

She raced down the steps, barely touching them as she rounded landing after landing. He was behind her. He was gaining. She took one more flight and wrenched open the door.

She was in a dim hallway lined with numbered doors. She tried the first one, then the second.

“Help!” She pounded on another locked door. “Somebody
help
!” She glanced frantically over her shoulder as the stairwell door squealed open.

Across the hall, a door opened. She barreled through it, startling the tenant who’d ventured a peek into the hallway.

She slammed the door and locked it as an old man watched her through Coke-bottle glasses. She glanced down and realized her hand was bleeding from punching the glass.

“Fire escape! Where is it?” She rushed for the nearest window and looked out. She had to be on the sixth or seventh floor.

“Is there a fire escape?” she demanded.

“What the hell is this? Who are you?”

The door rattled. Kelsey glanced at it, unnerved. She shot a glance into the kitchen and caught sight of something just beyond the window.

She rushed across the room and shoved a drop-leaf table out of the way. “Go into the bedroom!” she barked, fumbling with the window lock. Her hand was slick with blood. “Call 911!”

She lifted the windowpane and squeezed through the
opening, hoping Trent wouldn’t be able to do the same. She glanced at the alley below and prayed the rusty slats would hold her weight. She climbed down the first vertical metal staircase. Her phone rang, startling her, and her foot missed a rung. She crashed to her knees on the grate. Through metal slats she saw Dumpsters and delivery trucks way, way below. The metal squeaked under her and she fought a wave of nausea.

Her phone buzzed again. It would be Gage, wondering where she was.

“Gage!”
she shrieked, too terrified to look for him as she struggled to focus on the endless vertical stairs.

Five more levels.

Above her, shouting.

Four more levels.

She glanced up and saw Trent’s head poking out from the window. The entire metal frame shifted and groaned as he climbed onto the platform. She watched, horrified by his agility, as he descended two entire levels in a matter of seconds.

In his hand was a gun.

•   •   •

Gage shoved his phone in his pocket and skimmed the sidewalk. “Where the hell’d she go?”

Agent LeBlanc shook her head. Gage spotted Derek crossing the street and waved him over.

“She’s not answering.”

Derek looked up and down the block, just as Gage had been doing for the last ten minutes.

“Think she stopped for coffee or something?” Derek asked.

“No.” Apprehension tickled the back of his neck. He eyed the rooftop again.

“Maybe we should—”

“Quiet!” Gage cut him off. “You hear that?”

“What?”

In the distance, a scream.

•   •   •

She grabbed the railing and scrambled down.
Three more levels.

Her hands slipped on the rails. She was bleeding. Her heart pounded wildly as Trent closed in on her.
Two more flights.

She glanced up.

Pop.

The bullet was like a firecracker right beside her head. She leaped onto the last level, where a hinged metal ladder lay flat atop the grate. No time to position it, so she dropped to her stomach and dangled her legs off the side.

It’s too far,
she thought, looking down. She shimmied to the edge, and her knuckles were white on the metal slats as her legs dangled in midair.

Pop!

She let go.

CHAPTER 20

“Kelsey!”

Gage and Derek sprinted around the corner as Elizabeth struggled to keep up. She’d heard gunshots. Those had definitely been gunshots, and they weren’t far away. Gripping her weapon and praying she wouldn’t have to use it, Elizabeth shoved past pedestrians and raced across the street, then stopped short as a taxi whizzed past her, horn blaring. Stunned by the close call, she stood paralyzed for a moment, then lunged for the sidewalk. She rounded the corner, but Gage and Derek had already disappeared from view.

She jerked her phone from her pocket and pressed the button to connect with 911.

“Shots fired at—” Where the hell were they? She recalled the sister’s address and rattled it off. “Officer needs backup!”

“One moment, please.”

“Immediate backup!” She shoved the phone into her pocket and sprinted down the narrow alley. She reached a one-way street and checked right, then left. Should she turn or keep going? She raced for the next
intersection and checked in both directions. She spotted Derek just as he vanished around a corner. She took off after him.

Another shriek. She halted to listen. It was
behind
her.

Doubling back, she reached the street she’d just crossed and ran down it. She passed an alley and saw a flash of movement.

Another flash of movement jerked her attention up, where a man in a dark suit was clattering down a fire escape. He dropped to his stomach on the last level and leaped to the ground.

“FBI! Freeze!” she yelled.

He froze, crouched on the ground with his back to her, facing the direction where the other person—Kelsey?—had just dashed around a corner.

“Hands in the air!” Elizabeth pointed her gun at his back as she approached. He was silhouetted in the alley, against the bright flow of traffic.

She’d heard gunshots. But where was the gun now? Elizabeth darted her gaze into doorways, between Dumpsters, looking for threats.

“We’re on the same team,” he called, slowly rising to his feet.

“Hands where I can see them!”

“Relax, I’m with the FBI. I’m with you.” His arms moved downward.

“Hands
up
!”

Beyond him, cars and trucks and cyclists whisked past, oblivious to the confrontation happening right in their midst. God, where was her backup? Her pulse raced as she moved cautiously toward him. Where
was his weapon? She recalled him hurrying down the fire escape. He would have tucked it in his pants or his holster.

And then she spotted it. It was on the ground near a puddle. He must have dropped it and it skittered out of reach.

She relaxed a fraction.

“Turn around,” she ordered. “Slowly.”

Slowly, he turned around. Relief flashed across his face.

“Hey, I know you.” His arms started to move down.

“Hands
up
!”

He smiled. Very friendly, except that his hands were in the air and her gun was pointed straight at his chest. She strained to keep her arms steady.

“You’re the new agent,” he said. “Elaina, is it?”

“Elizabeth.”

In the distance, sirens. Panic flitted across his face, then disappeared. Another smile. “Hey, we’re on the same team, Elizabeth. I’m—”

“I know who you are.”

His gaze narrowed. The smile returned, but it didn’t reach his eyes now.

“You were after Kelsey Quinn,” she said. “You’ve been after her since the night of Reid’s murder. She was there, wasn’t she? She saw you kill him. And then you staged the scene.”

The smile vanished. His face hardened. His gaze flicked right and she knew he was thinking about that weapon. A warning whispered in her head. She’d pushed him too far.

•   •   •

Kelsey careened around the corner and found herself in yet another alley. Terror squeezed her chest. This neighborhood was a labyrinth. She glanced around as she ran down the narrow passage, looking for an escape, a hiding place. She heard sirens, but they sounded blocks away, back near the park.

She tripped on a pothole and fell against a Dumpster. She paused to look over her shoulder. No Trent. She ducked behind the giant metal bin and bent over to suck down big gulps of air. The alley smelled of garbage and urine. A wave of dizziness washed over her as she braced her hands against her burning thighs and gasped for oxygen.

Where had he gone? And where had Gage gone? Remembering the missed call, she pulled her phone from her pocket and stared down at it, dazed.

A sharp whistle and her head snapped up.

“Kelsey!”

It was Derek at the end of the alley. He jogged toward her, pistol in hand. Kelsey pushed off of the Dumpster and stumbled toward him.

Behind her, a door banged open.

•   •   •

“Whoa!” Gage stopped short as he stared down the barrel of the gun.

“Shit, man.” Derek lowered the weapon. “Announce yourself. I almost took your head off.”

Gage looked at Kelsey and felt a punch of fear. “Fuck, you’re bleeding.”

She slumped against the brick wall. Her cheeks were flushed and she was gasping like she’d just run a marathon. “He’s here. He was chasing me.”