The Stranger Beside You (16 page)

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Authors: William Casey Moreton

Tags: #Mystery, #Suspense, #Thriller

BOOK: The Stranger Beside You
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“Good God,” one of them said.

“Are you okay?” asked another.

But I didn’t respond.  I just kept hacking.  The elevator stopped and I made a big dramatic show of collapsing to my knees and clutched my hands to my throat.

The door opened.

“I think she needs a doctor!” someone said.  “Call 911!”

I heard a woman’s voice say, “I’ll hold the door!”

“Get the security guard!  She needs help!”

I turned my head just enough to catch a glimpse of the man with the knife.  I could tell he was confused.  The women hovered over me.  Then I heard a scream and one of the women came running back to the elevator.

“The guard is dead!  There’s blood!”

“What?”

“The guard!  He’s on the floor!  I went looking for help and saw his arm sticking out from under the big desk!”

“Are you sure?”

“Oh my God!  Call 911!”

That’s when I knew this was all very real.  I had to make a run for it.  I couldn’t let Mr. Z or his people get me alone.  If I let that happen I would never make it out alive.  So I rolled onto my side and opened my eyes.  The women were looking around in confusion.  The short guy was standing a few feet away, holding the knife at his side.  This was my only chance.  I jumped to my feet and cut through the gathering crowd, sprinting across the lobby toward the street.  That created even more confusion.

“Where is she going?” I heard a voice behind me shout.

I heard another scream.  “That man has a knife!”  It was one of the women from the elevator.  I recognized her voice. 

I hit the revolving door at a dead sprint.  My body hit the glass with a hard thud.  The door turned a one-half revolution and spit me out onto the sidewalk. 

I was half a block away before I dared glance over my shoulder.  They were coming after me.  The man with the knife and someone else, a bigger man I didn’t recognize.  They were making up ground.  I turned a corner, searching desperately for a cop or a taxi.  No such luck.  I didn’t stand a chance on foot.  Those guys were just too fast. 

There was an alley up ahead, but the last thing I wanted to do was get trapped in a dead-end.  The sky was darkening.  Dusk had arrived and cars had their headlights on.  The man with the knife and his buddy would be rounding the corner any second.  There was no time to think. 

I crossed the street and turned another corner and spotted a white Lexus SUV parked at the curb.  Without even thinking I went down on my hands and knees and then scooted on my belly until I was underneath the vehicle.  My hands were on either side of my head, palms pressed flat to the ground.  I smelled gasoline and asphalt.  I was breathing hard and I was certain they would be able to hear me.  The Lexus was a few inches higher off the ground than maybe the average car on the road, but it was still a snug fit.  My chest was heaving and I was shaking.

Within seconds I heard running footsteps approach.  I turned my head sideways.  My view was limited.  I was staring mostly at curb.  The ground was warm.  I watched a flash of color rush past, black and brown, the colors of footwear, but I couldn’t see anything else.  They ran on ahead but I didn’t move.

I waited and listened, and in a minute both of them were back.  They loitered nearby, no more than a few feet away. 

“She couldn’t have gotten far,” said a man’s voice.  I immediately recognized him as the man from the elevator. 

“She has to be close,” agreed his partner.

They walked right up alongside the Lexus SUV.  I held my breath even though my lungs were on fire.  I was about to burst.  My eyes were wide with panic because if they happened to stop and glance beneath the SUV I would be finished.

“We’d better split up, cover more ground,” one of them said.

“Right, good idea.  You head up that way.  I’ll check out the alley.”

I pivoted my head as best I could to watch them drift past me.  When they were gone I put a hand over my mouth and sucked in a lungful of oxygen.  I could no longer see them, but did that mean the coast was clear?  Doubtful.

I ran through my options.  The Volvo was several blocks away.  They might be watching it.  They had somehow known I was inside with Aaron, so it was logical to assume they knew where my car was parked.  At the moment it seemed too big a risk heading that way.  I’d have to leave it. 

If I were forced to walk away from my car, I’d be stuck on foot.  Even so, I couldn’t risk it.  I’d have to stay low and find a way to safety and then take things one step at a time after that.  I stayed where I was for several more long minutes.  Time seemed to pass so slowly.  I was finally beginning to catch my breath.

After ten minutes or so with no sign of them, I decided to crawl out from my hiding place.  I shimmied to one side and extended my head out just a few inches.  There were people on foot crossing the street and heading in all directions, but no one saw me.  I inched out a little more.  There was still no sign of the either of the two thugs.

I rose up on my hands and knees but kept my head down.  I crept along and ducked down between two parked cars.  A few people hurried by, uninterested in whatever I was up to.  I glanced up the street and spotted a taxi heading my way.  This was my chance.  I waited until it was close and then stepped out into the street, waving my arms.  The taxi slowed to a stop and I hurried to the back door and hauled up on the door handle.  As I pulled the door open, I glanced down the street and spotted the man with the knife standing on the sidewalk a few hundred feet away.  He was staring at me.  We made eye contact.  A second later he started sprinting in my direction.  I panicked and jumped inside the car.

“Go!” I said.

“Where to?”

“Anywhere, I don’t care!”

We accelerated into traffic.

I turned in my seat and watched the man with the knife pulling up short in the middle of the street.  He doubled over, out of breath.  I was trembling.  It occurred to me that I had nearly died twice on Wall Street today.  I had escaped, but that thought provided little solace, because I knew they would simply keep coming after me.

 

 

 

27

 

I had the taxi drop me in midtown then I found a fast food restaurant and locked myself in the restroom. 

The mysteries surrounding my husband seemed to grow deeper with each passing hour.  It was becoming shockingly clear that I hadn’t really known him at all.  The man I had been married to for twelve years had in truth been nothing more than a wolf in sheep’s clothing.  He had lied to me.  All of our years together had been one big lie.  It broke my heart. 

Someone knocked on the door but I ignored it.  I was very worried about Aaron McFadden.  I dialed his office number on my cell phone but no one answered. For a long moment I sat with my cell clutched in both hands and tried to steady my nerves.  It was important that I think clearly and make logical decisions in the midst of all this chaos.  There was a sinking feeling in my gut that Aaron was in trouble.

I exited the restroom and the fast food joint and crossed the street.  The moon was up.  I was nervous and paranoid. 

They will be watching
.

How had they known I would be at Aaron’s office on Wall Street?  During the drive into Manhattan I had waited for the mysterious Plymouth to reappear but hadn’t seen it since before dropping off the kids.  No other suspicious vehicles had drawn my attention.  Clearly they had known where I was headed, but how?

That’s when I stopped dead in my tracks and I looked at my cell phone.

They were listening to my calls
.  There was no other explanation.  Every phone in the house could have been tapped.  In fact, our entire home might have been bugged.  It quickly became apparent to me that these people could have been listening to our every conversation for weeks.  Just the thought of it was terrifying. 

Could they even be tracking me by the GPS built into my cell?  Anything was possible.  I had to get rid of it.  I smashed the phone down on the sidewalk and it busted into pieces.  Bits of plastic and circuitry scattered across the cement.  I gathered up the larger chunks and tossed them into the nearest trash can I could find.  I glanced over my shoulder as I ducked into a corner electronics store and purchased a cheap pay-as you-go cell phone.  I ripped open the packaging and activated the phone as I hurried back out to rejoin the stream of anonymity.  The streets of New York were electric with lights and noise and movement.  I felt overly exposed, like every face was looking at me. 

I ran across the street to Central Park.  It was time to go underground.   

•  •  •

Garcia looked up from his laptop.  “I’ve lost the signal.”

“What do you mean?” Mr. Z said.

“Something must have happened to her cell phone.  The signal dropped.  I can’t track her without it.”

Mr. Z lit a cigarette.  “She knows.”

Finch was driving.  “What do we do now?”

“We watch her friends.  She can’t stay on her own forever.”

“What about her children?”

Mr. Z nodded.  “We will take them tonight.”

•  •  •

Sadie answered on the third ring.  She had probably stared at the unfamiliar number on caller ID and hesitated.  This was my first call using the disposable cell.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.  Don’t say anything, just listen.”

There was a brief pause.  “OK,” she said.

“Someone attacked me a few minutes ago, but I’m fine.  I don’t know who or why.  There were several of them and they were nasty looking.  I’ve never seen any of them before.  All I know is that the attack has to be related to Tom’s death.  I’m still trying to put the pieces together.  Just tell me this, are the kids okay?”

“Yes.  They are watching a movie before bed.”

“They took the news hard.”

“Yeah, I can see it in their eyes.”

“I’m worried about how this might escalate.  You and Marcus have to be careful.  The last thing I want is to drag the two of you into this, but I still really have no idea what is even going on.  Tom left me some clues before he died, but it’s all still a total mystery to me.  These were dangerous men who attacked me.  They had weapons and somehow knew I had gone into Manhattan to meet Tom’s boss at his office.  My best guess is they tapped my cell.”

There was silence.  Then, “You’ve got to come back here.  You’d be safer with us.”

“No.  Just take care of my boys.  I’ve got to make sense of this.  I have to figure out what Tom was trying to tell me.”

I was hurrying on foot through the Upper East Side.  I had bought a hooded sweatshirt from a thrift shop and now had the hood pulled over my head.  When I spoke I kept my voice as low as possible.  It was hard to hear anything on the cheap cell phone.

“Are you sure it wasn’t a misunderstanding?” she asked.

“Please, I’m not an idiot.”

“I know, I know.  I’m sorry.”

“Don’t call me at this number.  I’ll call you when I can.”

“Where are you now?”

“Don’t worry about it.  Keep my babies safe.”

“Don’t get yourself killed.”

“Thanks for the advice.  I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll have my cell with me at all times.  Please don’t hesitate to call.”

“Stay safe.”

“We will.”

“Tell Marcus I’m counting on him.”

“Just come back to us in one piece.”

“That’s the plan,” I said.

•  •  •

They backed the car down a narrow alley and killed the lights.  It was an alley between abandoned warehouses by the docks in lower Manhattan. The air reeked of sea water and fish guts.  Woz was the first out of the car.  A drunk was asleep on the ground beside a dumpster.  Woz crouched beside the bum with his knife.  The bum was dressed in rags and smelled like he was doused in urine and cheap bourbon. 

Finch and Garcia flung open the backdoors and hurried to the trunk of the car.  Finch had the key.  He jiggled it in the lock until the trunk lid released.  The two thugs reached into the trunk cavity together.  Finch grabbed the legs and Garcia grabbed the arms and they lifted the body out.

Aaron McFadden was not dead, only unconscious.

Mr. Z watched them work.

A short rise of concrete stairs led to an exterior metal door.  Years ago the same door had been locked, but two decades of scumbags with pry bars had left it mangled and rendered the deadbolt useless.  They hoisted McFadden up the stairs and through the door. 

Mr. Z followed his men inside.

The warehouse was a big and empty.  Once upon a time perhaps it had hummed with industry, but now it was slowly collapsing in on itself from neglect and decay.  Everything of any possible value had been stripped and stolen.  The door banged open.  Sounds echoed.  Rats scattered. 

They dumped McFadden on the floor.  There was a length of chain dangling from a pulley rig mounted to the ceiling and Finch spooled out some slack in the chain and Garcia helped him loop it around McFadden’s ankles several times and make a knot.  Together the two men hauled down on the opposite end of the chain and hoisted McFadden into the air, suspending him ten or twelve feet off the ground, like a dead shark on display at one end of a fishing pier.  His hands were bound behind his back.

Mr. Z strolled casually in a circle beneath him, shining the bright white beam of a flashlight upwards onto McFadden’s pale face.

“Wake him up,” he said.

Garcia approached with a fire extinguisher and sprayed it at McFadden’s head.  McFadden coughed and gagged and twisted his face away from the chemical spray.  He blinked wildly and was suddenly awake.  He’d been out for more than an hour.  He whipped his head side to side, panicked, and flailed when he realized that he was suspended in the air.  His last memory was of being in his office and looking up to see a stranger at his door.  The man had entered with a gun and ordered him to the floor.  He had then felt a sharp pain at the back of his skull and blacked out.

Mr. Z held the heavy flashlight over his head, aiming it directly into McFadden’s eyes.  McFadden struggled for a moment but the effort was futile.

“Please relax,” Mr. Z suggested.  “This might take awhile.” 

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