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Authors: Gracie C. Mckeever

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BOOK: Between Darkness and Daylight
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The young man jogged over, hand to the nightstick on his right hip.

“Lucas, look, I have reason to believe there’s a murderer on the premises. I need you to lock down the building, and get this student back to his class.”

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“But Uncle Za—”

“Ran, I need you to go with him.” He pushed Ransom toward Lucas, who was already on his walkie-talkie relaying Zane’s message.

He was dialing 911 on his cell when he noticed Lucas gawking at him.

“Who should I tell them we’re looking for, Mr. Youngblood?”

“The fitness teacher.”

“Oh shit. Mr. Richards?”

“Just give them the information, Lucas!”

“Yes, sir!”

Zane was halfway to his office when he got an operator. “Yes, I’ve got a 911 emergency at the High School of Discipline and Civil Values…” He gave as many of the pertinent details as he could think of and grabbed his leather jacket from the coat tree. He still didn’t know where he was going, where Martinez would take her, but moving and doing something was better than staying still and doing nothing.

The cell vibrated in his hand and Zane hit the Talk button. "Hello!"

"Youngblood, I've got a lead on our man. I know who he is."

"So do I and he has Nova."

"Don't do anything stupid, Zane."

"Stupid? Did you hear what I said? He's got Nova!"

"I heard y—Wait a minute. Something's coming through on the fax…"

After an endless moment, Zane barked, "Leary?"

"I'll be damned. Your girlfriend did me one better."

"What are you talking about?”

"I canvassed the students and teachers at your school with an old picture of Martinez a few days ago. Didn't think to do it earlier, too much of a long shot."

"Leary, we're wasting time!"

"Most of the teachers didn't recognize him. A couple of the students weren't sure, but thought it could be the—"

"Fitness teacher, Mr. Richards. He's been under our nose all this time, Leary."

"How'd you—?"

"What did Nova send you?"

318

Gracie C. McKeever

"I don't know how she knew it, or where she got it from, but she must have faxed me a picture before he grabbed her. Must be what he looks like now."

Zane closed his eyes, swallowing hard. He'd left her hanging out there when she'd come by trying to warn him, to save
him
. "Leary, I have to go."

"And where is it you think you're going?"

He hadn't realized until just now where Enrique might be taking Nova.

“He’s taking her to his wife’s.”

"I meant what I said, Youngblood. Don't do anything stupid."

He couldn't be any more stupid than he'd been shutting her out these last couple of weeks. Zane wanted to kick himself for his obstinacy; he could have avoided all this, had he just talked to her.

"Youngblood, did you hear me?"

"I heard you. Now you need to get someone over to Francesca’s house as soon as possible. She’s in the Bronx at—”

"I know where it is—I’ve got a man there already. Just hold tight until I get to you."

“I’ll wait for you out front.” Zane broke the connection, clipped the cell back to his belt, and finished shrugging into his leather jacket.

“Youngblood, get back here!”

He turned to see Ransom running down the hall toward him, the kid crashing into his chest and holding tight just as the phone on Zane’s desk rang. He automatically grabbed for the receiver with one hand as he held Ransom with the other.

"Mr. Caseworker, finally caught you."

"Martinez?"

"Let's save the formal introductions. What you need to know now is that I've got your woman and if you want her back in good condition, you do as I say."

"Anything."

Martinez's next words confirmed Zane's earlier hunch. He hung up the phone and dragged Ransom out into the hall with him.

The school’s security force, a collection of young, underpaid, and unarmed guards, were on the move, walkie-talkies squawking in hand as
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they sprinted from class to class searching the floor for “the fitness teacher.”

“Ransom, I need you to stay here with Lucas.”

“I can’t stay here and do nothing. It’s my fault he’s got her.”

“I told you it’s not.” Zane waved Lucas over again, but Ransom ran from Zane, evading Lucas as he rushed for the front exit.

“Ransom!” Zane ran after him, made it outside as several uniformed police officers sped by him into the building to join forces with the school’s security guards already sweeping the floor.

Leary’s unmarked car pulled up to the curb out front, joining several squad cars that were already parked at odd angles to the sidewalk, lights flashing.

Ransom ran smack into the detective’s chest as he got out of his car.

Leary grasped him around the shoulders to steady the boy. “What’s going on?”

“You’ll have to handcuff me and lock me up to keep me from

following you.”

“Who said anything about—?”

Zane skidded to a stop in front of Leary and glared at his nephew.

Ransom ignored him and appealed to Leary instead. “I promise I won’t be any trouble and I’ll stay in the car, Detective. Please.”

Zane cursed. Knowing how stubborn and precocious his nephew was, he didn’t doubt the kid would defy him and roam the streets on his own trying to find Nova. Better to have him close, where he and Leary could at least keep an eye on him. “Get in the car, Ran.”

Ransom scrambled for the back seat before Zane could change his mind.

“I called his wife, there’s no answer at the house,” Leary said.

“He might be there already, holding them hostage.” Zane ran around to the passenger seat in front, got in, and buckled the seatbelt.

“There’s no need to go over there all gang-busters yet," Leary said as he started the car. "At least not until we get a handle on the situation. I told you I have a man over there already, and the last time he contacted me, he said there was no suspicious activity.”

“How long ago was that?”

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Gracie C. McKeever

“A little before I arrived here.” They pulled away from the curb and joined the stream of mid-afternoon lower Manhattan traffic. “She’s going to be all right, Youngblood. They all will.”

Zane clung to the small ray of hope, wanting to believe Leary, to believe that Frenchie and her kids’ safety hadn’t been compromised, that Martinez hadn’t gotten to them.

But that left Nova and Martinez unaccounted for. That left his woman out there somewhere at the mercy of a killer.

Nova, where are you?

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321

Chapter 30

Frigid air and pitch-black darkness enveloped Nova.

He'd taken her coat, stripped her of everything except her clothes and her fear. She lay on her side in the back of her Mercedes, inhaling her abductor’s alien scent on the leather, feeling remnants of his slimy black aura embedded in the confines of the SUV.

Martin Richards was gone. She had no way of knowing where or for how long and might not have cared one way or the other, but for the fact that he'd left her bound and gagged in the back of her SUV and no one else knew where she was or what had occurred in the school corridor.

Would Ransom guess what had happened? He was a smart kid, but unless he'd found the sketch or discovered Richards's nature, she doubted he'd be able to help her.

Nova struggled to a sitting position just as the back door opened and someone slipped into the seat beside her, letting in the cold air from outside

It was Richards. She couldn't see him through the blindfold, but she could feel him, and she didn't like what she felt. He was overly excited, like a kid who'd just had a double-dose of ice cream and cake at a birthday party.

"Time to get you ready for the festivities."

He untied her blindfold and Nova blinked several times, surprised it was still daylight. It felt as if she'd been riding around in the dark with a mad man forever.

She wondered how late in the day it actually was. It had been well after lunch time when she rushed from her office and headed straight to the school.

"I'm going to take this tape off. You scream, and I won't wait for Mr.

Caseworker to arrive before I slice into you. Understand?"

322

Gracie C. McKeever

She nodded as he pressed the point of that dreaded hunting knife under her chin. So many times she'd seen its glint in her dreams, watched from afar as he'd wielded it on another, never imagining she'd feel its sharp cold metal against her own flesh.

He ripped the tape from her mouth, and it took everything in her not to cry out. Instead she licked her dry lips and swallowed, trying to get the nasty taste out of her mouth.

"Please, Mr. Richards—"

"You think I'm stupid enough to be using my real name?" he sneered.

"It's Martinez -- Enrique Martinez. Didn't Mr. Caseworker ever tell you about me? Brag about how he took away my family, my life?"

"No, I swear—"

"No,
I
swear I'm gonna finish you now if you say another word!" He glared into her face. "So, are we going to behave?"

Nova silently nodded.

"That's good to hear, because I don't want to have to carry you."

Leaning across her knees, he cut the ropes from her ankles. "Your hands stay tied. I can't trust you not to try some of those Jackie Chan moves you're so famous for."

God, how much had Ran told him about her? Did he know about her visions?

I don't know how you got this
, chica. The memory of his words let her breathe a little easier. Ransom must not have divulged her secrets. Nova didn't know how the man would react to learning just how much she knew about him, but she was sure he wouldn't be too happy about her snooping.

Nova looked outside. The streets beyond the windshield were deserted.

Darkness was quickly approaching, the setting sun throwing dark-salmon hues over the little framed houses lining the sidewalk.

They were parked outside just such a house. Were the woman and her children inside?

"C'mon. Time to go." Martinez opened the car door, caught her by an arm and dragged her outside onto the curb before slamming the door.

"This way."

There was another car parked a couple of lengths in front of her SUV.

It looked vaguely familiar, like one of the unmarked cars that detective friend of Zane's drove.

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323

He paused by the passenger door as if to sate her curiosity, pulling her close as he leaned in to flip on the interior light. Nova gasped when she saw the man behind the wheel, his head thrown back against the seat, a gaping wound in his throat. The blood looked almost black in the dim light, splashed across the man's shirtfront and jacket in a gruesome artistic pattern, and the overpowering scent of it just about gagged her..

Then he put a hand over her mouth and pressed the knife blade to her throat. "Just a reminder of what can happen to you. Visual aids and repetition are such wonderful teaching tools, don't you think?"

She silently nodded her assent.

Zane, if there's any way you can hear me, please...

* * * *

...
I need help
.

Zane barely noticed when they pulled to the curb a couple of houses away from Frenchie's front door, didn't know when the detective left the car, and hardly knew when he returned.

He started when Leary slammed the car door, and immediately felt the energy emanating from the detective in waves. The man looked like he was barely holding onto rage the likes of which Zane had never seen before. What had he found out there?

Leary suddenly slammed his fists into the dashboard several times, panting as he reached for the radio, and Zane grabbed his hand. “What the hell happened? Is it Nova?”

"My man's dead. Throat's been cut."

Zane tried to pry the radio from his grasp.

“What the hell is wrong with you, Youngblood? I have to call for backup. This isn’t just about you and Nova anymore.”

“He said no cops.”

“I’ve got a fucking dead cop out there, Youngblood—and he was my cousin! But no matter how bad I wanna go in there and kick some ass, I've still got to call for backup. Now let go.”

Zane held firm. "I'm sorry, Leary, but I've got my own to worry about right now."

"And we're going to get her out of there."

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Gracie C. McKeever

"I can't risk him killing them because I couldn't follow instructions."

"It's not your choice. I'm not letting you go in there alone. You’re a civilian. End of story.” Leary glared at him and tried to jerk the radio free again, but Zane wouldn’t let go. “Am I going to have to restrain you?”


I need help.

Zane reached for the gun in Leary's shoulder holster, not realizing what he was doing until he'd snatched it out and pointed it at the detective.

"Uncle Zane!"

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Youngblood?"

"Look, I just need you to give me a head start."

"On what? Getting yourself killed?"

"Just a few minutes."

"Zane, don't do this."

He removed a set of handcuff's from the detective's belt. "Cuff yourself to the steering wheel right now."

Leary held his gaze for several long moments, and Zane didn't know what he must be seeing—a man desperate enough to kill a cop in order to save his woman, or just a plain raving maniac—but he did as he was told.

Replacing the radio, Zane smashed the butt of Leary’s gun against it several times until he was sure the radio was out of commission.

"Stay here with Leary until I get back, Ransom."

"But Uncle Zane…"

Hearing the tremor in the boy's voice, he paused, his fingers around the door handle. He didn't want to turn back and add fuel to his uncertainties, didn't want to have a reason not to get out of the car.

Ransom grabbed his arm as he opened the door. "Please, just…"

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