Darkness. And pain. Deep throbbing pain. Unable to see, she tried to move, but she was tied to something. Even the littlest movement triggered a wave of nausea. She struggled to hold back the saliva and gagging. Where the hell was she? She tried to think, but it made her head hurt. Shit. Someone had been at her house, and she’d let them in when she opened the garage door. That had to be it. But where was she now? She probably only had two options. Don’t move and pretend she was still unconscious or call out and hope someone would come to her rescue before whoever took her came back. Unless they were still there and watching her. Fear raced down her spine followed by another wave of nausea. She was well and truly screwed.
“I know you’re awake, bitch.”
Okay, that answered that question. Obviously hostile. Think, Anna. What did your class teach you—figure out your surroundings. Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her racing heart. She’d get out of this, Ethan would find her, right? Except he’d told her to stay home and probably didn’t even realize she was missing. It was anyone’s guess how long he’d be stuck at the crime scene. It could be tomorrow before he got back and realized she was gone.
She was on her own. It’s okay, she had the skills. At least that’s what the certificate hanging in her office said. She’d already figured out that her arms were tied together by rope—not handcuffs—which was much better. There had to be a blindfold around her eyes, that would have been easier than making sure the whole room was dark. If she couldn’t see, she couldn’t identify them, so maybe they weren’t planning on killing her. A spark of hope ignited. She just needed to keep fanning the flames and figure out how to get the hell out of there.
“I’m talking to you, bitch. What, you think you’re too good to talk to me?” Without any warning, something hit her hard on the side of her face. After the intense pain and wooziness subsided, she realized he’d punched her. Nice.
“Way to go. Oooh, a macho man. Hitting a woman who’s tied up and helpless. I’m so scared.” Either she was crazy, incredibly brave, or a little of both. She wasn’t sure. But she’d rather be killed fast rather than deal with slow painful torture if that was his intention.
The room smelled weird, something she’d encountered before but she couldn’t place it. It had to be a large open space from the way his voice echoed. Then she heard another voice. “You really shouldn’t antagonize him. It’s a good way to end up dead.”
That voice she recognized, she should, she’d heard it often enough. It had to be a mistake. Had she been forced into it? There’s no way she would have done this on her own, would she? Either that or Anna really was a terrible judge of character.
“She’s right. But I’d love to teach you a lesson or two. Fucking stuck up bitch. Think you know everything. Well, we showed her, didn’t we, girl?”
Another clue. They knew each other? Was it Mr. Creepy Pants who’d taken her?
“Yup, we did. And I’d say she had no idea. Probably thought they were pulling a fast one and we didn’t know what she and her boyfriend were up to.”
“What do you want? Why am I here?” Anna hoped if she got them talking maybe she’d be able to figure out an escape plan, or something, anything, to help her get out of there before it got worse.
“You haven’t figured it out yet?”
“No. Why don’t you tell me?”
Laughter, harsh, and scary echoed all around her. The throbbing in her head got worse. She probably had a concussion, but she doubted that would be what killed her. The more they spoke, the less hope she had about getting out of there alive.
“You think this is TV? The bad guys spilling their guts thinking they’ve already won. Nope. Sorry, bitch. If you can’t figure it out, we’re not going to help you.”
“Why did you kill Hugh?”
The sound of a cigarette being stamped out was all she heard for a bit. Just when she figured they wouldn’t answer her, he started talking again. Maybe he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was. She was good at this game. She’d gotten Steele to come clean, and he was a trained professional. If this was Mr. Creepy Pants, there’s no way he was a professional anything. Other than a hired killer maybe.
“Hugh was a piece of shit and my brother. He thought he was in charge, but I showed him. Stupid fuck. Ran up thousands of dollars in gambling debt and needed a way to pay the loan sharks.”
Okay, well that made some sense anyway. Poor Betty.
“After your fuckin’ boyfriend showed up he got worried. Tried to pull the plug. I told him he was a fucking pussy and that I’d run things from now on. He didn’t like that idea so oops, night, night, Hugh.”
“I didn’t even know he had a brother. How could you kill your own blood?”
“We didn’t grow up together. Our whore of a mother put us up for adoption. I didn’t even track the fucker down ‘til a couple of years ago.”
It looked like getting him to talk wasn’t going to be that difficult after all. If she could keep it up, maybe she could get her hands free. From the echo, she knew he wasn’t close and hopefully he wouldn’t be able to see her working on the knot. But then she’d forgotten about the other one, and that betrayal cut her to the core.
“Dad, you need to shut the hell up.”
Dad? Dad? No wonder. But did he force her or was she a willing participant?
“It won’t matter; by the time they find her, she’ll be rat food.”
Ugh really? Rat food? She hated rodents, their creepy little faces and sharp teeth. Fear bubbled up inside her. Calm down. Deep breaths. One. Two. Three. One…
***
Ethan and Steele went inside and saw Anna’s note about going to Betty Johnson’s house. Obviously, she hadn’t made it out of the garage on her own, but did Betty know anything?
With her note with the address in his hand, they headed to Betty Johnson’s house. It was their best lead right now, and he needed to find Anna while she was still alive.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll find her,” Steele said from the passenger side as he hung on to the suicide handles. Ethan didn’t care if he broke every traffic law in the state, he wasn’t going to waste one minute.
“Hell yeah, we will.”
“Just remember, you’re about to charge in to the house of an old woman who just found out her husband was murdered. We have no proof she was involved at all. We don’t have proof he was either. Nothing turned up in the call logs.”
“I know. I’ve got this.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Ethan leveled a stare on Steele and the way the man blanched he was sure he looked as evil as he felt. Someone had his woman, and he was going to get her back, and God help anyone who stood in his way.
The lights were on at the Johnson’s house, and there was already a patrol car parked outside. The front door was open, and Ethan walked in with Steele following. The white-haired old woman was sitting on the sofa, with a uniform next to her. She looked frail. And innocent. But time would tell. Ethan was done playing these games.
“Mrs. Johnson?”
The woman looked up, tears welling in her eyes and his heart softened just a little. Tears. Fuck. “Yes. Who are you?”
“I’m Detective Price, and this is my partner, Detective Brennan. Is it okay if we ask you a few questions?”
She nodded, and the uniformed officer got up and left the room.
“We’re really sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you. He wasn’t much, but I loved him. For over fifty years, too.” Ethan had a flash forward wondering if that’s how he and Anna would be in fifty years. But not if he didn’t find her.
“Did he have any enemies? Do you know why anyone would want to hurt him?”
“Oh, lots of people hated my Hugh, but they didn’t really know him. At least until his good for nothing brother showed up.”
Steele and Ethan exchanged looks. Now they were getting somewhere. “Who is his brother? We didn’t show a brother in his records.”
“They were separated when their mother put them up for adoption. Joe found Hugh a few years ago. I’m not sure how. That’s when everything went to hell in a handbasket. Joe was just bad news.”
“Do you know where Joe lives?”
“No, I’m sorry. He wouldn’t come around often because he knew I didn’t like him.” Damn, so much for progress. Looked like another dead end.
“That’s okay. I’m going to leave my card on the table here. If you think of anything, give us a call. We think he kidnapped Hugh’s boss, and we need to find her before she gets hurt too.”
“Oh no? Not Miss Taggart? What a lovely woman. Why would…oh never mind. He’s a bad egg. I know he was working at the lumber yard off Heritage, but I think they fired him a couple of months ago.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Johnson. And again, we’re very sorry for your loss.”
Ethan couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He had a destination now, and if his gut was right, he was about to rescue a damsel in distress.
Steele called the LT and told him where they were heading. Ethan knew the lumber yard and gauged it would take him about ten minutes, five if he really pushed it. He really pushed it. Steele mumbled the entire time about lunatics behind the wheel as he clung to the suicide handle for dear life. Ethan didn’t know what he was talking about, he was totally in control, even if he’d only barely missed the eighteen-wheeler on his last turn.
He wanted to arrive with his siren blaring, but he knew better. They had no idea how unstable Joe Johnson was or who else with him. He still believed it was a whole crew that worked the burglaries. He should find out soon enough if he was right.
Lights off as he turned into the parking lot, he practically coasted up to the front of the building. It looked locked up, but on the second floor, there was a dim light shining through one of the windows. Carefully getting out of the car, and pushing the door shut, he walked over to his lieutenant who was already there. How he’d arrived so fast, Ethan had no idea, but he didn’t care either. He was going in to save Anna with or without his boss’ approval.
“What do we know?”
“Not much. I ran Joseph Johnson and came up empty, but you said he was adopted, right?
“Yeah.”
“He probably has a different last name. The panel van used in the robberies is parked around back, and so is a car and the green pickup truck Anna saw. I’d say we have our man, or crew, however, it turns out.”
“I’m going in,” Ethan said as he turned toward the building.
“Whoa, hold up there, cowboy. You need a plan, and you’re not going in alone. You’ll have backup.”
“Fine. What’s the plan?”
“I have Simmons and Mercier heading around the back to cover the exit, you and Steele go in the front, and the rest of us will be on standby for whoever needs us. Use the radio only if you need assistance. We don’t want to let them know we’re out here.”
“Right.”
“Good luck, Ethan. Steele, don’t let him do anything stupid.”
“Yeah, right! Like I could stop him.”
As they approached the front, Steele pointed to the metal stairs on the outside of the building. It was a risk. They might creak, or come crashing down from their weight, but it definitely seemed like the best option to the second floor—and the quickest.
Ethan went first, carefully taking a step at a time. They seemed solid and, so far, no noise. As he climbed the stairs, he whispered, “Please God, let Anna be okay. I can’t live without her now that I’ve found her.”
A hand rested on his back, and he almost pulled his gun, before he realized Steele had caught up to him. Giving him the thumbs up, they continued climbing. Finally, they were on the second floor, the window was ajar, and he almost cheered. Voices. Anna’s, a man who had to be Joe, and another woman. Fuck, no.
Ethan peered around the side of the window, hoping they weren’t near enough to see him. He’d couldn’t believe it. As the kids said, “mind blown.” What the fuck was Jenny doing involved with this shit? She was practically just a kid.
Backing away, he whispered to Steele, “Two perps, Joe and Jenny. Anna’s tied to a chair, but I didn’t see anyone else. She looks a little banged up but okay.”
“Jenny the receptionist? No fuckin’ way. Are you sure?”
“I wish I wasn’t. So how do you want to do this?”
“Did you see any guns?”
“No. I say let’s go through the window and charge them. Two of us, two of them.”
Steele nodded. “On three?”
“Yup.”
Then all hell broke loose. He and Steele pushed the window open and charged in guns drawn, at almost the same time Mercier and Simmons hit the back stairs. His radio lit up, “shots fired, shots fired.” Ethan didn’t stop. The others could take care of the rest of the crew, he was going for Johnson or whatever his name was. Slamming in to the dirtbag and knocking him down gave him a certain satisfaction. But mostly he didn’t want to give him a chance to pull a gun.
But he hadn’t anticipated the knife. Joe’s blade slid between his ribs, but it didn’t stop Ethan. Backing up, he shot him in the arm, even though killing the asshole would have been more satisfying. He glanced over and saw Jenny handcuffed and sitting on the floor. He wanted to be the one to interrogate her and find out why the fuck she’d turned on Anna.
Racing over to Anna, he ripped the bloody blindfold from her head and smiled into her startled eyes. “Your knight is here to rescue you.”
“Ethan!” Tears rolled down her cheeks, leaving trails in the blood and dirt.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”
“No, I mean I’m okay. I might have a concussion, and my face hurts where he punched me. But I’m okay.”
“Thank God. I’ve never been so worried in my life.”
“Me either. Oh my God, you’re bleeding.”
“I’m fine. It’s merely a flesh wound.” Then turning to Steele, he yelled, “Toss me that knife, I can’t get these ropes untied.” He never heard Steele’s response or caught the knife. He’d fallen to the floor unconscious.