Stolen Omnibus – Small Town Abduction (18 page)

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Authors: James Hunt

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BOOK: Stolen Omnibus – Small Town Abduction
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“No. I’ll be the only one in contact with Mr. Alwitz moving forward. Anything you need to ask him you can bring to me.” Scott picked up the picture of Ken’s family on the desk. He examined it for a moment then shook his head. “Don’t make this harder on yourself.” He set the picture down and headed for the door, stopping when he had his hand on the door knob. “Do the job.”

The door slammed shut, and Ken was left alone. Slowly, he made his way toward the desk and then collapsed into his chair. He reached for his laptop and opened a blank document to prepare the statement. He watched the cursor blink for a while, trying to think of what to say, but the words refused to surface. His eyes kept returning to the picture of his family.

Scott snapped the laptop shut, stuffed it into his bag, and loaded the rest of his things. Wallet, passport, cash, car keys. He stopped to think of what he had at the apartment that he needed to grab, but there was nothing. He grabbed the picture of his wife and son. Family was all that mattered. And he wasn’t going to let these psychopaths hurt any of them. He may have gotten them into this mess, but there was still a chance for him to get them out.

Chapter 4 – 12 Hours Left

 

The main highway that led to New Energy’s property was void of traffic. The only movement was from the blades of grass on rolling hills that stretched to the horizon, gently blowing in the breeze. Less than twenty yards from the road was a larger hill, at least ten feet at its highest point, blocking anyone from view of the road. And that was where Lena had parked Mark’s car.

Lena lay in the grass, alone, and raised the binoculars to her eyes. Through the rounded lenses she saw New Energy’s portables and refineries in the distance. When she lowered the binoculars she could still see the gas flare runoff on the horizon.

Only a handful of cars passed, and none of them were Ken’s recognizable BMW. Brief moments of doubt crept back into her mind about whether or not he’d even drive by, but she pushed them aside. This was the only way to get him. The moment she walked onto New Energy’s property, she’d be kicked off. She checked the time.
10:00 a.m.
She could afford to wait a little longer, but not much. If she didn’t see him soon, then she’d have to find someone else to persuade, and she didn’t think Scott Ambers would be swayed. Her phone buzzed, and she checked the number that flashed on the screen. “Hey.”

“Where are you? I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all morning.” Mark walked the fine line between upset and concerned.

“I had to go over a few things with Jake.” Lena peered through the binoculars. Her pulse quickened at the sight of a black sedan but then slowed once she confirmed it wasn’t Ken’s BMW.

“How’s he holding up?”

“He’s all right.” Lena placed the binoculars in the grass then rolled to her side, noticing the pause on the other end of the call. “What’s wrong?”

“What are we doing?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean what are we doing about Kaley? How much longer are we going to wait to make your announcement? What are the authorities doing to find her? We haven’t heard a peep from them, and your brother is the fucking sheriff!”

Lena rubbed her forehead, unsure of how much to tell him. If events turned south, she knew as a lawyer that giving Mark plausible deniability was important. “I’ll give you an update on things when I get home. Okay?”

“Why don’t you just tell me now?” The irritation in his voice was still present but not as angered. “Why aren’t you home?”

“I’m just finishing up a few things.” They weren’t lies, but they weren’t the truth, and she already felt the twist of guilt sicken her stomach. But if things turned south and it meant giving the girls at least one parent after the dust settled, that was enough justification in her mind. “I’ll be home in a little bit. How’s Gwen?”

Another pause, though this one not as long as the first. “She hasn’t really left her room. Or even said a word since last night. You need to talk to her.”

Sunlight shimmered off a windshield on the road and stole her attention, and Lena reached for the binoculars, keeping the phone pressed to her ear. The car was speeding, which made it hard to follow with the magnified lens. She steadied her hand and looked for the emblem on the car’s hood.
BMW.
She jumped up from the grass and sprinted toward the car. She tore the door open and tossed the binoculars into the passenger seat. “Listen, I have to go. I’ll be home soon. I love you.”

Without waiting for an answer Lena hung up, started her car, and floored the accelerator. Her arms stiffened, holding the wheel as she felt the bumps and scrapes of the grass, dirt, and rocks as their vibrations rattled her seat. The speedometer tipped over forty, then fifty, the jolts running through the car growing more violent. She glanced down the highway, where Ken’s car was nothing more than a blip on the road.

Dirt and grass flew from the undercarriage as Lena swerved onto the asphalt. Tires screeched, and the speedometer quickly jumped to eighty with the traction of the asphalt. Lena twisted her palms over the leather of the steering wheel, her eyes focused on the horizon.

After three minutes Lena closed the gap on Ken’s sedan to less than ten yards. She swerved left to pull up behind him in the opposite lane of the two-lane highway, but Ken blocked her. She swerved right, and again Ken anticipated the move. They maneuvered back and forth, both keeping the NASCAR-like pace.

A semitruck in the incoming lane blared its horn, and Lena veered back into the right lane. A rush of wind from the massive truck rattled her car, and the wheel jerked right, nearly throwing her off the road’s shoulder. She steadied and then floored the accelerator once more, the car galloping forward to regain the ground lost from the near collision.

Lena’s vision darted between the road ahead and Ken’s sedan. The windows of the BMW were tinted dark, and Lena couldn’t see Ken behind the wheel, but she knew it was him. Her engine groaned, and when she checked the speedometer she saw it had tipped over one hundred miles per hour.

Ken’s bumper grew closer, and she felt a light jolt when the two pieces of metal clashed. Her tires screeched, and the wheel shook violently in her hand, but she floored the accelerator and smacked him again. But still Ken refused to slow.

Lena reached into the glove compartment and pulled out the pistol Mark had kept in the car after what happened to their family over the past few days. She rolled down her window and thrust her arm outside, struggling to aim in the whipping winds. When she finally had a bead on the driver-side windshield, she fired. Glass shattered, and Lena nearly lost control of the wheel from the recoil.

Ken veered off the road, tires screeching as he skidded from pavement to grass. Lena turned a sharp right to follow. Dirt and grass flew upward in a whirlwind as both vehicles climbed one of the smaller hills and then sped down the back side, both cars slipping out of view from the road. The rough terrain ended the BMW’s speed advantage, and Lena quickly caught up, slamming into the back of Ken’s car.

Metal crunched, and the quick white flash of the airbag accompanied a sharp snap across Lena’s face and a vicious pop in her chest. She felt her body jar from the collision, and suddenly everything came to a sudden stop.

When Lena opened her eyes she saw steam and smoke escape through the cracks in the hoods of both cars. Spider-like webs crawled over the glass of Lena’s windshield. She unbuckled then shouldered open the door, which groaned as loudly as she did upon her exit. She wobbled unsteadily on her legs and then reached back inside the carnage of her car. She found the pistol on the floorboard of the passenger seat and aimed it at Ken’s driver-side door as she approached.

Ken’s door squeaked and slowly opened. A polished dress shoe planted itself firmly on the grass, and bloodied knuckles gripped the top of the car’s roof as Ken pulled himself out. Blood trickled down his face from a gash on his forehead, and both his clothes and hair were disheveled.

Lena aimed the pistol at him, needing both hands and arms to keep the weapon steady. “I know about the chemicals you’re dumping, Ken. I know you tried to cover it up. And I’ve got proof this time. So I want you to ask yourself how much you’re willing to tell me in order to stay alive.”

Ken leaned back against the side of his car, both arms splayed with no defense. “You want to stick it to New Energy?” He took heavy, labored breaths between words. “I don’t give a shit about them. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”

Lena stepped close enough to place the pistol’s barrel against the side of Ken’s cheek. There wasn’t any doubt in her mind that whatever he knew could help, but there was one thing she needed to understand. “Did you take my daughter?” She pressed the pistol harder, pushing through the flesh of his cheek until she felt the hard bone of teeth. “Because the moment you turn against them, they’ll give you up. You won’t be able to hide from it. So tell me now.”

Ken trembled, his breathing still labored. “I didn’t have anything to do with your daughter’s disappearance.” The gash from his forehead dripped blood over his left eye, which he kept shut. “But you’re right about them coming after me the moment I blow the whistle. I’ll need assurances.”

“You’re not in any position to make demands,” Lena sneered.

“And neither are you!” Ken jerked his body right, putting some distance between his cheek and the pistol, which left a circular indentation from the pressure. “So let’s help one another.”

“Do you know who took my daughter?” Lena asked.

Ken paused before he answered. “No. But”—he held up a finger—“I think we both know who did. And I can give him to you. But I do something for you, and you do something for me. That’s how this is going to work.”

Lena lowered the pistol. “What do you want?”

“I want a new setup in Europe. Helsinki, to be more specific. Me, my wife, and my son. And I want it all in writing.”

“I can’t guarantee the DA will agree to that.”

Ken chuckled. “After what I tell you, the DA will agree to whatever I want him to.”

Lena wanted to believe him, but a pang of disgust soured her gut. “Can your car still run?”

Ken glanced at the wreck and shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Lena walked over to her car and cranked the key in the ignition. The engine choked and whined, and it took a few tries, but eventually it coughed to life. The whole car rattled when she shifted into reverse, but it moved.

A larger hill, similar to the one she hid behind earlier, was less than fifty yards from where they wrecked. If they could get both cars to the other side, they’d be hidden from view until someone could come and pick them up. “Follow me over there.”

The wrecked sedan complained all the way to the hill’s crest, and twice Lena thought the vehicle was going to die, but once she passed over the top, the downhill trip progressed without incident. Ken followed soon after, his BMW significantly more worn. It stalled halfway down the hill, but he managed to coast it the rest of the way. As Lena watched him climb out of the car she felt the weight of the pistol tucked in her belt.

One shot. That’s all it would take.
Flashes of their interactions with one another over the past several months played over and over in her mind. There was always something about him that she couldn’t place. She’d always chalked it up to his air of superiority, that he was compensating for something. She watched him lean up against her car and take off his jacket. “You never wear a wedding ring.”

“What?” Ken asked, looking down to his left hand.

“You’re married. I know you are. And there is only one reason for people that are married to not wear their ring, which is because you don’t want people to know you’re married.” From Lena’s experience in rehab, the main cause was infidelity, but there were others. She’d hidden her marriage in her final stint at rehab because she wanted to forget about Nick.

Ken tossed his jacket over the hood and removed his phone, ignoring the statement. “So who’s going to pick us up?”

Curiosity was getting the better of her, but time was short. “I’ll call my brother. I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you.”

 

***

The moment Jake’s personal belongings were returned to him he jumped in his truck. It’d been weeks since he’d used it, preferring the sheriff’s truck, but with his badge and gun stripped it was his only choice.

The inside of the cabin was similar to his work vehicle, minus the radio. But there was still a gun rack on the back window with a Mossberg with attached scope across the top rack. He shoved aside old pieces of fast food wrappers and slammed the truck in reverse, then peeled out of the parking lot.

Once on the road and past the horde of reporters still camped out on Main Street, Jake dialed Kelly’s number. It rang and rang but continued to go to voice mail no matter how many times he called. He removed an empty beer can from the cupholder and replaced the aluminum with his phone. He reached over into the glove compartment, where he removed a 9mm Glock that he kept stashed inside. With one hand still on the wheel he balanced the weapon in his hands and checked the magazine to ensure it was loaded. It was.

Jake floored the accelerator, the truck’s engine roaring down the highway toward Kelly’s trailer. He needed to explain to her what happened with Reese. He wanted her to hear the truth from him. He just hoped that she hadn’t turned on the news since this morning. Knowing her, he thought he’d be in the clear.

The trailer windows were dark when Jake arrived. He hastily slammed the truck in park and leapt out. “Kelly?” The trailer door was locked when he reached for the handle. He pounded his fist into the wall, the flimsy material of the whole structure rattling with every strike. “Kelly! Are you in there? Open up!”

No answer. Jake stepped over to the nearest window and pushed himself up on his toes to peer inside, but the curtains had been drawn. “Kelly, please, just let me explain. I’m sorry if I—”

At first Jake thought it was just a trick of the sunlight, but when he leaned closer to examine the lock he saw a trickle of blood on the doorframe. He reached for the pistol and fired. One heavy shoulder check later, and he tumbled inside.

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