Chapter 31
Agent Crews strolled out of the hospital room and Mackenna buried her face in her hands in a tsunami of tears. She was still their suspect and that scared the life out of her. But he said he would summon help. That meant recruiting the good guys. Like Jake. If only they weren’t too late. What she wouldn’t give to turn back the clock to when Jake cradled her in his arms after they made love. He’d been so tender, whispering that he didn’t want to live without her, that he wouldn’t let another day pass that she wasn’t in, that he needed her more than he needed air to breathe.
They were endearments she’s always hoped to hear from someone and words she never expected to hear from Jake. His declarations left her speechless. All she’d been able to do was stare into his eyes like a doe caught in the headlights, astounded by his admission, and then kiss him again. Of course that had been enough to ignite his passion for another round of lovemaking.
Why had she reacted so strongly when he hadn’t coddled her and cooed his pity after learning that she’d been robbed again? He’d never treated her like a victim, someone he felt sorry for. In the face of everything that happened to her, from the first time he spoke to her in the coffee shop after Robbery Number One to learning about Mr. Gleaner to seeing the dire straits Arthur left her in, Jake approached each crisis logically, not enabling her with sympathy but empowering her with the strength to overcome.
Yesterday had been no different. He’d asked for the facts, as he always did. Yes, he’d snapped at her, unnecessarily reminding her of the seriousness of the situation. And when she wasn’t forthcoming with the details of the latest robbery, because she preferred to wallow in self-pity over her bad luck and her suspension and wanted to drag Jake down to those depths with her, he’d refused to follow, instead asking if she’d told the FBI the complete story. She misconstrued that as an accusation that she’d lied when, upon reflection, it was Jake being Jake, standing on the right side of the law. That’s where he always stood. That’s where he belonged. She knew that.
Given the chance she’d apologize for not believing in him. Because as Mackenna thought back, there wasn’t one minute when Jake hadn’t believed in her. If only they could get to him in time.
Agent Crews returned with a street map of the general warehouse district. “There are at least seventy-five buildings in a three-mile radius,” he said as he spread out the diagram in front of her. “Where did you last see Jake?”
The maze of dots and lines and words blurred. She’d awakened inside the warehouse, hanging from the ceiling, so she hadn’t seen the outside of the building. And she couldn’t reconcile the streets with her actual escape route. “I’m sorry, I’ve always been directionally challenged. I can get lost in the mall. This map might as well be written in hieroglyphics. I can’t identify anything from this. Why can’t I retrace my steps with you and take you back?”
“It’s too risky, Miss McElroy. I can’t take a civilian into a tenuous situation.”
“The way I see it, Agent Crews, you don’t have a choice. And the longer we debate the matter, the more danger Jake could be in. I beg you. Let me help.”
His massive chest expanded with air. When he exhaled, she detected a hint of peppermint on his breath. “Can you describe the interior of the building? Are there windows? Doors? Any idea how many?”
That she could do. She’d hung there for hours, struggling to bear her weight on her toes and cringing in pain in those brief moments when she lowered her feet to rest, thereby straining her shoulder sockets. One mammoth, dark-haired man with a rifle dangling over one arm sat in a chair near the door, half snoozing, one eye trained on her. In no time at all she overcame the embarrassment of being on display in her underwear and had even taken a minute to regret that she hadn’t matched the blue lace panties with the white demi-bra that day. Not that her captor recognized the fashion faux pas.
And then, as if Jake whispered in her ear, she’d studied the room, recalling his advice when they rode the bike to the country bar. He’d said it was always a good idea to know your surroundings in case of emergency. Her situation certainly qualified. She’d had enough time to memorize the interior of the warehouse.
“I saw one door in the front of the building and one at the back. Two double garage doors side by side are also at the front. Four windows along the front and two half windows in the rear but they were boarded up, I think. No light shone through them. There was some type of door on the ceiling with a rope and handle hanging from it, like you see for access to an attic. And two interior doors, like office doors, both of them on the left side of the building in the rear corner. Fluorescent lights run the length of the building in three rows. Cement floor. I’m not good at judging distance but I’d guess the size of the entire place is about half a football field.”
Agent Crews’ eyebrows shot up. “How do you recall all that?”
Heat crept across her cheeks, and she dropped her gaze. “Jake said it was important to pay attention to your surroundings. I didn’t do such a good job the first time I was robbed but I tried to pay closer attention after that and provide better details for you but you didn’t believe me. And while they were waiting for Jake, I just hung there, looking around.”
Agent Crews threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, Miss McElroy, you’re a precious gem and a bright light in an otherwise dark situation. Excuse me. I have to make another phone call.”
She wanted to scream at the exchange of phone calls, none of which she was privy to, that ate up precious time. The door remained partially ajar and Agent Crews threw up his hands, shook his head and punched the air while he spoke into his cell. Finally, he rolled a wheelchair into her room and a nurse helped her into it.
No one spoke until they were in the front seat of his unmarked car and he started the engine. “We’ll return to the convenience mart where the police found you and start from there. If you can back track your escape route to the warehouse, we’ll take it from there. You’ll stay in the car once we get there until I can have a local remove you safely off the premises.”
Fat chance she’d let that happen, not with Jake so close. Mackenna strained to look behind them, noting only blackness. “We who? There isn’t another car to be seen.”
“Don’t concern yourself about that. Is there anything else you can remember, any minute detail that might help Jake?”
She shut her eyes tight but nothing surfaced.
“You say he was in his underwear?”
“Yes. That doesn’t ever faze him, though.” The admission that she’d seen Jake in his underwear prior to her abduction caused her face to flush and she was thankful the car interior was dark and Agent Crews couldn’t see her. Even as dark as that moment was, when she didn’t know if she would live or die, she’d appreciated the man’s body as he strode toward her, knowing her hands had touched every inch of it. And her lips. Please, God, give me one more chance to love the man.
She directed Agent Crews to drive slow, crawling through the streets once the convenience store was at their backs. “Turn here.” “Wait, back up, down this alley.” Each directive was whispered, even though only she and Agent Crews were in the car. “Around this corner.” “Down here.” And then suddenly, there it was. Her heart filled in a flood of fear.
The warehouse was dark and loomed like a menacing monster. Agent Crews dialed his phone and recited coordinates he read from a dashboard navigator.
Mackenna squirmed in the passenger seat. “What do we do now?”
“Just wait.” With one eye on the building Agent Crews leaned toward her, unlocked the glove box, and removed two long metal objects. Bullets in a clip or a magazine, whatever it was called. He shoved them into his pants pocket. Then he stepped out of the car, went to the trunk, and retrieved a vest that he strapped on and a shotgun. Once he slipped into the vest, he returned to the driver’s door but remained outside. The windows were down, the night unnaturally quiet.
From out of nowhere men materialized and trotted by the car on either side, hunched down. Silent. Where did they come from? They wore gray long-sleeve shirts and matching camo pants tucked into ankle-high boots. How could they move so stealthily in those heavy shoes? Thick helmets were strapped to their heads and bullet-proof vests protected their chests. Each lugged a backpack, wore dark gloves, and had guns strapped to both legs. And they carried intimidating looking rifles.
Agent Crews leaned inside the driver’s window and pointed his finger at her. “You stay in the car until a uniformed officer comes to escort you away from here. And Miss McElroy, if you don’t go with him, I’ll charge you with obstruction of justice.”
Before she could reply, he straightened and took off after the SWAT team. Suddenly, the whop-whop-whop of a helicopter sounded overhead, and she strained to see out the passenger window. The helicopter hovered over top of the building and she counted four men climbing down ropes and dropping onto the roof. Like a synchronized ballet, their feet no sooner touched the roof than an explosion lit up the night at the rear door and in the front of the building. An orange glow illuminated the dark, enveloped in gray smoke that clouded the entrance and spread like rolling fog. With the flames as a background, Mackenna watched the SWAT team rush the building, a hail of gunfire splitting the nighttime silence. The noise deafened her. The acrid smell of explosives gagged her and her eyes watered.
She jumped out of the car in an effort to inhale more air, her eyes riveted to the scene. Men yelled orders that were incoherent to her and high-pitched screams pierced the night. Somewhere behind her, sirens approached.
A movement to the left of the building caught her eye and she squinted, trying to focus. One lone shadow crept along the side of the building, crouched low to the ground. A SWAT team member checking the perimeter? An earlier transmission over the car radio reported the perimeter secure.
Inside the warehouse, mini explosions blew out the boarded windows and fingers of flame cut holes in the roof, stretching toward the sky. And still, the shadow crawled away from the building.
Mackenna ran around the rear of the car for a clearer view. She couldn’t make out a helmet, or a weapon, or anything that indicated this person was a SWAT member.
No!
In the glow of the flames, it looked like Vincent. She caught her breath and whirled around, searching for someone to tell. They were all so well disguised, she couldn’t distinguish one body in the night. Did they see him?
She spun back to the spot she’d last seen movement. Nothing. The flames roared in her ears. The radio. She could warn them. She jumped into the driver’s seat and stared at the mini-computer mounted to the dashboard. No visible microphone hung from it and when she touched the screen, it awakened to display the blue and gold FBI insignia. Headlights flicked on where she’d last seen Vincent and white back-up lights confirmed the car moved.
She couldn’t let him escape. This was a man who’d threatened her and may have killed Jake. Spying the car keys in the ignition, Mackenna started the engine and threw the car into drive. All the anger she’d suppressed these past weeks over that bastard Arthur, the spineless bank robbers who’d pointed guns at her, Mr. Gleaner for trying to exploit her, and possibly Jake’s death—it all surfaced, bubbling up in a rage.
She floored the gas pedal and drove straight toward the moving car, screaming like a banshee. “No-o-o-o-o!”
With the headlights shining inside the car, she saw Vincent turn, a look of terror on his face. And she rammed the driver’s side of the BMW.
Airbags exploded around her, stopping her propulsion through the windshield with such force she passed out.