21 Dares: A Florida Suspense Mystery (24 page)

The
parking garage was to her left, and she headed in that direction.

Charlie
Hicks was waiting.

Chapter 27

A
bbie left the hospital entrance and headed north
along the sidewalk into the parking garage. Cement columns held up a low
ceiling, and dull yellow lighting cast shadows between the cars. People passed
by, headed toward the hospital. A car alarm beeped with someone, somewhere, unlocking
a door.
At least she wasn’t alone
, she
thought.

She
turned her head toward the incoming ramp, then forward again. She caught a blur
of movement from the corner of her eye. Someone stepped behind a cement column.

Charlie Hicks.
She was sure of it.

She
almost dropped her purse.
What did she
expect
, she asked herself, squinting to see if she could make him out. This
is obviously what he wanted. But now they weren’t alone. They weren’t on the
rooftop of some abandoned building.
 
They
weren’t alone in the woods. They were in a busy hospital parking garage, with
people, with security cameras.

She
stepped forward, deeper into the garage. She came to the column where she’d
just seen the flash of movement. He wasn’t there.
Why was he being so clandestine?
She took her phone from her purse
and dialed his number. It went straight to voicemail.
 

On
the other side of the garage, elevator doors opened. An elderly couple stepped
out. Abbie ignored them. They walked past her. She felt comfort knowing they
were close. There were more people around her, on various levels of the parking
garage. She wasn’t alone. That meant she could listen to him now. And if he
asks her to get into a car, to leave with him somewhere, she’d run back to the
hospital entrance. Josh was there.
His father too.
And dozens of detectives.
He wouldn’t get away. Not this
time.

She
walked past a row of cars, headed up the ramp toward the second level. Charlie
Hicks was in here. She knew it.

Rounding
the corner, she looked out at the rows of parked cars on the second level.
There was no one there. Frustrated, she read the text message again and sent a
reply.

She
waited.
Nothing.

Still, nothing.
She typed another
message.

Waiting
for a reply, she poked her head around the large cement column. She didn’t see
anyone coming. The elderly couple was gone. She looked at her phone again. The
elevator dinged and the doors opened. It lit the parking garage. Abbie raised
an arm to shield her eyes.

Josh
Parks stepped out of the carriage.
“Abbie?
What are
you doing?”

 
“I got another text message.” She walked over to
him. His mouth fell open.

“From Charlie Hicks?”
 
he
asked.

“He’s
here, somewhere.” Abbie turned her head, searching the dimly lit garage. “I
have to find him.”

“Stop
this!” Josh grabbed her right arm, gripped it tight and brought her into the
elevator. “Just stop it. It’s over. He’s taunting you.”

“He
sent me a dare... from his phone. It wasn’t from Dr. Wachowski. It was from
Charlie Hicks.” The elevator doors shut and the carriage hummed as it dropped.

“My
dad’s got the best people on the case already,” he said. “They’ll find Charlie
Hicks and they’ll find your friend.”

“He
wanted to tell me something—back there on the roof of that old factory.” The
nagging in the back of her mind refused to be stilled. Something was off, like
she had puzzle pieces without a photo on the box to bring them all together. “I
didn’t give him a chance to talk. What if he had info about Dr. Wachowski?
McKenzie had been talking to him. Rocky had been seeing him.”

“Or
maybe he was about to abduct you too. You did the right thing. You got out of
there. Now, you need to go home and get some rest.”

“But—”

“But
nothing. Let the police handle it from here, okay?”

Abbie
sighed. “Okay.”

Josh
hugged her as the elevator doors opened. Stepping into the hospital hallway, he
grabbed his cell phone and called his dad.

“Abbie
says she saw Charlie Hicks in the parking garage. She got a text message from
his phone number.” After a few moments, he hung up his cell and turned to her. “They’re
searching the garage now.”

They
returned to the front lobby and headed outside. The double glass doors swooshed
shut behind them.

“My
truck is around the corner.” Josh placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to
drive you home.”

“I
better try Clinton Reed again.” Abbie raised her phone and stared at the
cracked screen.

“You
call him and I’ll be right back.”

Abbie
watched Josh head back into the garage. When he was out of sight, she dialed Clinton
Reed. It rang,
then
the voicemail picked up. She
listened to his voice. After the beep, she said, “I’m headed back to my apartment.
Just meet me there.” She hesitated. “Call me when you get this, okay? Where are
you Clinton Reed? Call me?”

Josh
pulled to the curb in his black pick-up truck. He opened the passenger door and
Abbie climbed into the cab. She yawned a loud, mouth-stretching sigh that lasted
much longer than she would’ve like. She rubbed her eyes.

“You’re
exhausted. You need some sleep.” Josh hit the accelerator and rolled forward.

“I’m
okay.” She yawned again.

As
they drove toward the highway, Abbie
leaned her forehead against the passenger window, her purse clasped
loosely in one hand, the other grasping the unicorn pendant. She thought of
Susan, so bloody and broken from the fall. It reminded her of Heather’s corpse,
lying face-up in the living room of their old home.

“I
don’t know if Susan will make it. She looked so bad.” Abbie remained focused on
the passing lights outside the window. All her nervousness slipped back to grip
her. “And I’m so worried about McKenzie.”

“They’ll
find her,” he said. “There’s nothing more you can do and there’s certainly
nothing you can do tonight.”

“I
guess you’re right.”

He
turned the steering wheel, rounding a corner. “Did you call your Dad?”

“I
did.” Abbie still kept her cheek pressed against the cool glass. “But it went
to voicemail, like his phone is turned off or something.”

“Where’s
he coming from?”

“Pembroke
Pines. It’s going to take him a few hours to get here.”

“And
you told him you were heading home.”

“I
left him a message.” She lifted her head and straightened in the seat. “I just
can’t imagine why he’s not picking up.”

“Hey…”
Josh turned his head. His eyes caught hers. “He’s fine. I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah,
I know.” Abbie stared straight ahead at the street. “No, of course he’s fine. I
was just thinking.”

“Well,
stop it. No more thinking for tonight.” He sped up and merged into the traffic
on the highway. “Think about something else.”

“Like
what?”

“I
don’t know,” he said. The cab of his truck fell quiet and Abbie listened to the
sound of the road. After a moment, his face lit up. “You wanna know what the
mayonnaise said
when the
refrigerator door was left open?”

“You know what I’d like to hear?” Abbie leaned
back in the seat. She turned to look directly at him. “Tell me how you got that
scar on your stomach? What happened?”

Josh looked down then back at up at the road.
His eyes stayed focused. “I got shot in the stomach when I was a kid.”

“How?”

“I surprised an intruder in our home in the
middle of the night.” His voice turned stoic, very matter of fact, as if he
were reading from a newspaper. “I was ten and came downstairs into the kitchen
to get a glass of water. He was standing there. I surprised him. He shot me.
Twice.”

Abbie was at a loss for words. She expected a
hunting story. Or that he was playing with his father’s gun one afternoon when
it suddenly went off.
Or even running with scissors.
Parents always tell you not to run with scissors. Still…

“One bullet in the stomach and another in the
shoulder,” he continued. “I got a matching scar on my right shoulder too. It
shattered the acromion and messed up my AC joint.
 
Even today I can’t fully raise my arm.”

Abbie listened, but felt a million miles
away. Her thoughts lingered on the man in her home, reaching for her in the
attic.
Bald head.
Scruffy chin.
Tattoo on his arm. She looked over at Josh. “What’d he look like?”

“The intruder?”
He glanced at her then back at the road. He took the exit off the
highway and stopped at a traffic light. “You know I barely even remember it.
His name was Twayne Axel, but he went by The Ax. He’d escaped from prison and
was gunn’n for my dad.”

“Scars from
childhood.”
Abbie repeated. Her face closed, as if
guarding a secret.

“Yeah.” His voice trailed off. When the light
turned green, he headed down the deserted street.
“Scars from
childhood.
That’s why I’m not on the police force with my dad and work’n
as a campus security guard. ‘Cause of my shoulder injury.”
 

“When I was
six.”
Abbie cleared her throat. It became difficult
to get the words out. “My big sister and I were woken in the middle of the
night by an intruder in our home too. He’d broken in and was looking for
something.
Pulled the drawers out of desks and pictures off
the wall.”

He turned to her. “I’d heard a little about
that, but I didn’t know the details.”

“The man took a box cutter and slashed my
sister’s throat.”