32
Ryan ran a hand through his hair. It was now two o’clock in the afternoon and he still didn’t know where Izzy was—or how to find her. CSU was combing the vehicle, but Ryan didn’t hold out hope they’d find anything. Izzy had driven here under her own power and she’d probably gotten into the other car without protest.
A fact that the security camera on the church would probably verify once the church’s security team finished pulling it up.
Her phone lay on the front seat. Where was her weapon? He tried the door. Locked. She’d probably locked her gun in the glove compartment. He had no doubt her captor wouldn’t allow her to bring it with her, and she’d make it as hard as possible to steal.
Brady swung into the parking lot and climbed out of his vehicle. Ryan frowned as the man limped over. “Where is she?”
“Gone. Charice is working with church security to get the footage from that camera.” He pointed to the corner of the building.
“You lost her.”
“Yeah.” Ryan placed his hands on his hips and waited for the man to rake him over the coals for losing his sister.
Surprisingly, he didn’t.
One of the CSU team members walked over holding a large rock.
Ryan’s heart dipped. “Blood?”
“No, not at all. It was jammed in the GPS launcher.”
“What?”
“Yeah. It was weird enough I thought I’d mention it to you.”
“That’s my girl,” Ryan muttered. “It was jammed because she wanted to bring attention to it.”
Ryan hoofed it over to the front of his police vehicle and crouched in front of the grill. About a year ago, all law enforcement vehicles had been equipped with a GPS launcher that enabled officers to “tag” a vehicle that refused to pull over.
High-speed chases were dangerous for everyone involved, including innocent motorists. Once tagged, the officer simply backed off and used the computer to track the vehicle via the GPS “bullet” fired from the machine.
Ryan slapped the hood of the car. “A bullet’s missing. Let’s get those coordinates for that.” He turned and patted the CSU member’s shoulder. “Good work.”
“Thanks.”
Now he just had to pray Izzy still had the bullet on her somewhere and that Gabby wouldn’t come across it before they could get a lock on it.
Charice stepped out of the church and hurried over to him. “I’ve got the footage. It’s grainy, but you can see what went down.” She handed him her phone and he tapped the screen to play the video.
Izzy’s car pulled into the parking lot and into the spot. People moved in and out of the building. Voters. Ryan kept his focus on Izzy. She got out of the car when another car pulled in beside her. She ducked down at the front of his vehicle with just her head showing.
Making sure Gabby wasn’t going to shoot her? More like she was buying time, getting the rock to jam the GPS launcher open. She stayed at the front of the vehicle for another moment. Jamming the launcher?
Gabby never got out of her car, but Izzy stood when the woman rolled her window down. The two talked for another moment and Izzy gestured as she spoke. Gabby responded. Then Izzy pulled her ponytail tighter, walked over to Gabby’s vehicle and got in. And then they were gone.
“Smart,” Charice said when Ryan explained what she’d done.
“Yes. Let’s hope it’s smart enough and we can find her before Gabby and whoever she’s working with decide they don’t need her anymore.”
Izzy’s hands were taped in front of her. Mick had patted her down, her glare not affecting him in the least. She’d left her phone and her weapon in Ryan’s car per Gabby’s order, but at least the GPS bullet she’d slid from the launcher was still in Gabby’s vehicle.
Ryan had been following her. As soon as he realized he’d lost her, the search would commence. They’d find his abandoned car at some point, she just hoped it was sooner rather than later.
Unsure who she was going to be facing once they arrived at their destination, Izzy had decided the best place for the bullet was in the car. She’d dropped it into the small storage bin on the door and prayed it wouldn’t roll around. Fortunately, old napkins had been left there and all of Gabby’s turning hadn’t dislodged the thing from the middle of them.
Now Gabby and Freeman were basically ignoring her while Mick’s stare made her decidedly uneasy. They hadn’t taped her mouth, just her hands and feet. She’d managed to work the tape slightly loose around her ankles, but there was nothing she could do about her hands.
Mick stood. “I’m going to check outside.”
Freeman frowned at him. “There’s nothing outside. Stay put and watch her.”
“You don’t tell me what to do.” Mick’s nostrils flared and his lips tightened.
“I do until the rest of the money comes in. If you want your share, you’ll do what I say. Now, keep an eye on her and shut up.”
Hefting the weapon from his waistband, Mick trailed the barrel down Izzy’s cheek. She refused to flinch or look away, even as revulsion curled in her belly. Mick seemed to lose interest at her lack of reaction, shot a glare toward Freeman, then walked toward the door. “My sister might bow and scrape at your every demand, but I don’t. I’ll be outside for a few minutes.”
Gabby’s eyes darted nervously between her brother and Freeman, but she didn’t say anything. When Mick finally closed the door behind him, Freeman threw his glass across the room. Gabby jumped. “This is your fault, you stupid woman!”
“Toby, stop—”
His hand shot out and caught Gabby on her right cheek. She cried out and went to her knees. Izzy winced. The backhanded hit had to sting.
“Get up,” he ordered. “Then sit down and shut up. I didn’t think I needed to tie you up, but I will.”
Gabby crawled to the chair and pulled herself into it. Freeman returned to the table and went back to whatever it was he was working on.
Carefully, afraid one of them would look up from the table and catch her, she propped her elbows on her thighs, then leaned her head against her hands and palmed her eyes.
Izzy frowned and listened. The fact that they weren’t trying to hide anything from her meant they didn’t plan to let her live. Or at least Freeman didn’t. Mick might want her alive, but she was pretty sure she might prefer death to what he had planned. And she was relatively sure that Toby didn’t plan to let Gabby live either.
“Numbers one, two, three, and four need to be taken out,” he muttered into his phone. “They’re closest to the stage. Once that path is cleared, it’s all open.”
“What are you talking about?” Gabby said, her voice shaking, hand pressed to her fiery red cheek.
“You don’t need to know. Tell Mick to get back in here.”
With a sigh, Gabby went to the door and disappeared. Mick reentered and Freeman motioned for him to sit and pointed to the paper in front of him. Izzy noticed Gabby kept her wounded cheek out of her brother’s line of sight as she joined Izzy on the couch.
“You got these covered?” Freeman asked Mick.
“Yeah, man, they’re covered. How many times you want to go over it?”
Izzy braced herself at the explosive look on Toby’s face. But he held on to his rage and jabbed the paper. “These four back here and off to the side—numbers sixteen, twelve, twenty-three, and—” He paused with a glance at Izzy. “We’ve already taken care of number twenty, but they’ll probably replace her. These right here won’t be in the way. By the time they react, it’ll all be over. The others will have to be neutralized, though.”
Izzy froze. Number twenty? What were the numbers? They obviously referred to people. People they needed to neutralize?
Derek’s list instantly came to mind. She was number twenty on the list that Derek had sent her. They had to be talking about that list?
“I got it,” Mick said and pulled his laptop from a bag and booted it up. “If you’re so worried about it, why don’t you check in with everyone and make sure they’ve got the plan down.”
“What plan?” Izzy asked.
“None of your business,” Freeman said without bothering to look up. Mick glared at her.
Gabby whimpered and Izzy reached out to clasp her hands in hers. They were cold and trembling. The woman was terrified.
While the men were otherwise occupied, Izzy gave Gabby’s fingers a squeeze, then let go and lowered her head again to her hands. She found the seam of the tape with her tongue, then tried to grab it with her teeth. She managed to lift a corner.
“What are you doing?”
She dragged her hands down her face and met Freeman’s eyes. “Praying.”
“Well, stop.”
“Right.”
He rolled his eyes and went back to his laptop. This time Mick didn’t bother looking up. Izzy went back to work on the tape. Only to stop and lower her hands when Gabby reached over and started helping her loosen it. It made a slight rasp as it released and Izzy coughed. “Could I have some water?”
“I’ll get it,” Gabby said. She rose and went into the kitchen.
“When do you get the rest of your money?” Izzy asked.
“As soon as the election results come in declaring Melissa the winner,” Mick said.
“What if Eric wins?”
“He won’t. Not if he cares about what happens to his family.”
Izzy sucked in a breath. “You had him throw the election by threatening his family.”
“Mick? Really?” Gabby stared at her brother as though she’d never seen him before.
He rolled his eyes. “Shut up about things that don’t concern you.”
Gabby snapped her lips shut and dropped her gaze. She walked back into the den and sat down next to Izzy.
“Gabby,” Izzy whispered, turning to her friend, “why were you meeting with Tony Bianchi?”
She frowned and handed Izzy the cold bottle of water she’d removed from the refrigerator and uncapped. “Who?”
“The man in the warehouse the night Kevin got killed.”
“I was picking up some money that he owed Mick. Mick asked me to go get it for him, so I did.”
“That wasn’t money Bianchi owed him. It was a payoff,” she whispered.
“What? For what?”
“I’m not exactly sure, but it has to do with the election.”
Izzy heard Freeman speaking to Mick and tuned in. “Text the guys and make sure they’re ready.”
Guys? How many people were involved in whatever was going on? And why weren’t they asking her about helping them escape?
Because they didn’t need her help. They needed a hostage later, after whatever it was they were planning. Gabby stood and walked over to the table.
A chill swept over Izzy. “Was my father ever in any danger?” she asked.
Freeman laughed and shook his head.
“Gab?”
“I don’t know.” She bit her trembling lip. “Probably. If you didn’t do what he wanted.”
“Yes. He was in danger, but now that you’re here, he’s not,” Freeman said. “That what you need to hear? Now shut up and let us work.”
Mick turned back to Freeman, who shoved something in front of him. “Two guns come from the right and two from the left. Four from behind the stage. More Bloods will be here and here.”
Freeman tapped the item in front of him and Izzy realized Mick was looking at pictures.
The night of Kevin’s death came back with clarity, then her mind jumped to the security footage where Bianchi was talking. “Get the pictures and get out. Understand?”
Then Louis’s last words to her. “I’ve got some pictures for you.”
He’d been killed for those pictures. “What are the pictures of?”
Freeman slammed a fist onto the table. “Oh, for the love of . . . put some tape over her mouth, will you?”
Gabby flinched and shot Izzy a frightened look. Mick spotted his sister’s face and he shot to his feet. “What happened to you?”
“He hit her,” Izzy said.
Toby spun in his chair and aimed his weapon at her. “Shut up or I’ll shoot you!”
“Or maybe I’ll shoot you,” Mick shouted. He lifted his hand toward Toby and the weapon cracked.
Izzy dove to the floor and rolled when another shot rang out and Mick yelled. She turned to see a red stain spreading across Mick’s chest. Vaguely, she noted Gabby’s screams as she rushed to her brother. Mick sank to his knees, eyes glazing over.
Izzy’s throat tightened, even as it registered that Mick could never hurt her again.
“They said I could have you,” he whispered. “That was the deal. We were supposed to get the money, then I was going to take . . . you . . . away . . .” His eyes never closed as he landed facedown on the floor.
Gabby’s sobs now reached her. Izzy looked up to see Toby tuck his gun into the shoulder holster he wore. With a sigh, he walked over and pulled Gabby to her feet and tucked her against him. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m sorry.”
“You killed him!” she wailed.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, he just . . . I thought he was going to kill me. And you.”
She sniffed. “Me?”
“Yeah, babe, I couldn’t let him do that. He was crazy, shooting at everything.”
“One shot is shooting at everything?” Izzy asked.
When he turned to her, Izzy wished she’d kept her mouth shut. He stomped over, picked her up, and threw her on the couch. “One more word out of you and you’re dead. You have other siblings that will be just as effective as a hostage. Like your sister the doctor.”
He meant it.
Izzy nodded that she’d be quiet, then leaned back against the couch and closed her eyes. Within just a couple of minutes, Freeman had settled Gabby at the table and removed Mick’s corpse from the floor. He didn’t bother to clean up the blood.
Now the two of them sat at the table, and while Gabby’s sobs broke Izzy’s heart, she had to come up with a plan just in case Ryan didn’t figure out the bullet was missing.
They’d mentioned neutralizing people? As in killing them? But who? The names on the list? How were they planning to do that? A bomb? Multiple shooters with automatic weapons?
Things had just gone from worse to disastrous. She’d witnessed Freeman kill a man. Technically, she might actually consider it self-defense. Mick had shot first. But she knew it didn’t matter. She didn’t have much longer to live unless she acted.
Their words drifted to her as she tried to visualize a way out, tried to devise an escape plan. She had the duct tape worked so that one good rip would get it going and she’d eventually be able to get free. But it would make noise and grab their attention.
“I need a potty break. It’s been a while.”
“No.” Freeman didn’t bother to look up.
“Seriously?” She shrugged. “Whatever. It’s your couch.”
Freeman jerked his head at Gabby, motioning for her to tend to Izzy. “But keep your mouth shut.”
Gabby nodded meekly and stood. But when her gaze touched Izzy, her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared.
Interesting. So she wasn’t quite as docile as she wanted the man to believe. Good. Maybe she was ready to fight back.
“Use this and bring it back to me.” He handed her a pocketknife and glared at Izzy. “If you try to take it from her or escape in any way, I’ll kill her. Understood?”
“Understood.”
With shaking hands, Gabby cut the tape holding Izzy’s ankles together and returned the knife to Freeman. Izzy then followed Gabby down the hall to the full bath on the right.
“Give me your hands,” Gabby whispered.
Izzy waited while her friend loosened the tape around her wrists. “Hold on to that,” Izzy told her.
“Why?”
“Because if I don’t find a way out, you’re going to have to wrap it back around my wrists. Just loose.”
“Izzy, I didn’t know all this was going to happen. I thought I was helping Mick. He was at the house when you called and rushed us out of there. He said you were going to find a way to put him in prison. And then we got here and he was furious that he didn’t get the iPad. He thought it was in the bag with the computer.”
“So he came up with a plan to get me to bring it to you.”
“Yes. He said something about a guy named Young who was supposed to be a professional. But he’d failed to get you.”
“No kidding.”
“I’m sorry, Izzy. I didn’t mean to get you wrapped up in all of this.”
“You didn’t. My involvement started with Kevin’s death.”
She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes. “I can’t believe I was so stupid, so blind. I thought he liked me, but he was just using me.”
“Stop. Let’s go out the back right now. We’ll find a window and get out.”
“I . . . I can’t,” she whispered. “I can’t leave.”
“Why not? He’s in there.”
“I know, but . . .”
“But what?”
“He’ll kill my mother if I leave.”
“How?”
“He’s got her bed at the assisted living place wired with a bomb. If I don’t do what he says, he’ll set it off.”
Oh no. So that’s how he was keeping Gabby under control. Freeman was so confident that Gabby wouldn’t buck him or do anything to help her friend because he held her mother’s life in his hands.
A bomb at an assisted living home. Izzy didn’t want to even imagine the mass casualty that could be.
“Do you know the plan? Have you overheard anything?” Izzy kept her voice low, making sure Freeman couldn’t hear her.
“Nothing that makes any sense to me.”
“What do the Bloods have to do with this? Are the Crips involved too?” The fake tattoos. No, if both gangs were involved, there wouldn’t be a need for fake tats. And there was no way they’d band together for any amount of money.
“I don’t know. I promise, if I knew anything I’d tell you. This wasn’t supposed to happen,” she whispered. “You weren’t supposed to get hurt. No one was supposed to get hurt. I was just helping Mick!” she ended with a whispered shout.
They were out of sight of Freeman, but he had to be listening for them. Izzy lifted a finger to her lips and Gabby pressed a hand to her mouth.
“So do something,” Izzy said.
“Like what? What can I do that won’t get my mother and all those people in that building blown to bits? You tell me and I’ll do it, but I just know that I can’t leave.” Tears dripped down her cheeks and off her chin.
“Hurry it up back there!”
Izzy let her gaze linger on her traumatized friend, at a loss as to what to tell her.
“Come on,” Gabby whispered. “He’s getting mad.” She wrapped the tape around Izzy’s wrists leaving enough room for her to slip out when she was ready. Then Gabby hurried into the bathroom and flushed the toilet. Izzy heard the water running, then Gabby returned to her side.
Back in the den, she took her spot on the sofa once more. When she glanced at Freeman, he was watching her with narrowed eyes. She lifted her chin and glared at him, and he scowled and turned his attention back to the object he’d been studying. A picture. An 8½″ x 11″ picture.
And Izzy’s blood ran cold. She knew that place. The place where the newly elected mayor would give her speech.
And everything fell into place.
Terror exploded through her.
The list that Derek had found was a list of cops, all right, but they weren’t dirty. They were the security for the mayor’s speech.
The fake tats now made sense. She could picture it clearly. They were going to launch an attack during the speech, using a fake gang war in order to take out the cops who were the first line of protection and defense.
But why? And who was the target?
Even before the question finished forming in her mind, she knew the answer.
Her mother.