Broken Build (42 page)

He dashed down the emergency exit and ran toward his car. He rolled away from the apartment complex, narrowly missing the approaching fire truck.

His phone rang and he fumbled to answer it.

“You’re late.” Sherry’s voice was calm and steady. “If I’m correct, you went to the apartment.”

“Where’s Jen?”

“Who cares? I still have your daughter, and I’m about to slice off her ear.”

“You’re not going to hurt her.” His breath came in gasps. “She’s your friend’s daughter, and you’re using her to destroy my company. What did you do with Jen?”

“Oh, you mean your sweet little Puerto Rican twit? She’s destroying your company. Right about now, all the auto-updates are executing on thousands of Mississippi servers. Your little build bitch screwed it all up for you. She was quite willing, especially after she found out about us, how I was your first one, how I taught you everything. Better hurry with the money, I’m running out of patience.”

“I’m not giving you anything until you put Jen on the phone.”

Dave heard a sharp slap and muffled moans before the phone cut off. He floored the accelerator and careened down an alley before cutting onto the expressway. A car beeped at him, and he barely avoided a slow-moving truck. Tires squealing, he swerved around the cloverleaf and thundered up North 1
^st
Street. After a right and a left, he slowed. The parking lot was empty. His heart froze. Where were they?

He parked the SUV and jumped out, running back and forth, looking into the wastelands. A lone streetlight lit the entrance of the parking lot. A few security lights brightened the perimeter of the church. Had this all been a ruse to ruin the code? But Jen was in danger. He should never have let her out of his sight. He thought she needed time and space to think about the marriage, and he hadn’t wanted to push.

Dave jogged to the driveway and scanned the street. Tire marks from recent street racing gigs and broken beer bottles littered the road. The cops had shut down racing in Fremont, but the kids always found another place to congregate.

The sound of an approaching car alerted him. Two vehicles without their headlights on crunched over the roadway. A white sedan, souped-up street racer style, crossed and rolled to the center of the parking lot. A black extended-cab pickup blocked off the entrance of the driveway.

Dave loped to his SUV and stood in front of the trunk. His phone rang.

“Good boy. You showed. Now listen very carefully. Which one do you want? Your daughter or the bitch? Choose.”

“She’s not my daughter.”

A child’s cry broke the silence. “She is, idiot. Rodrigo seduced your stupid nanny, and she handed Abby to him. He passed her off as his niece and named her Emily. He used Rey and Patty’s daughter’s original birth certificate, the one with No Name.”

“No, you’re lying. Jen would never have helped him.”

Laughter. “He gave her ten thousand dollars. Where do you think she got the money for the plastic surgery? Step up with the money and meet me in the middle of the strip. The girl or the bitch?”

Shit! Rod stole Abby after all. Abby was here all along?

“I’m waiting…” The voice mocked. “The whore or your daughter?”

Jen would rather die for Abby.
Oh, God, help me.

“My daughter.”

“Hey, you heard that?” Sherry’s raw voice hollered. “He chose the girl over you.”

Oh, Jennifer, forgive me. I will fight them, I swear to you, after I save Abby.

A large figure stepped from the car in the street. He walked to the white racer at the center of the lot. Dave squinted. The man looked familiar. His lumbering shape, baseball cap pulled backwards, a snake-like pony tail. It was Bruce, the lab tech at Shopahol.

He led a little girl by the hand. Dave’s heartbeat jumped hurdles. Was that really Abby?

“No weapons,” Bruce yelled. “Put the briefcases down and open them.”

Dave went to the trunk and unloaded a row of briefcases, opening each one to reveal the cash.

The man closed in. The little girl rubbed her eyes. “I wanna go home,” she said. “Is the game over?”

“Now, nice and easy,” the man said. “Step away from the money.”

“Bruce, why are you doing this?” Dave kept his eyes steady.

Bruce’s cold eyes drilled into him. Bruce Miller.

“You’re Sherry’s brother, aren’t you?”

Bruce grunted. “You fucked my sister. She spent years in the mental home instead of getting her PhD.”

They were only four feet from him. The girl hugged a teddy bear while Bruce bent over the money. Dave reached for the child. “I’ll take you home.”

He was about to grab Abby when footsteps rattled behind him and a sharp sizzle threw him to the ground. He jolted as if his heart stopped. Pain radiated in every nerve like millions of needles stabbing him. The probe wires swept over his arm. Another charge was pressed to his chest. He seized, unable to even breathe, shaking as if a giant hand had broken every bone. His entire body cramped, and he lost control of his limbs, numb. Flashes of white light encircled his vision.

He was handcuffed and dragged to the white car. He looked wildly for the girl. She screamed and ran toward the pickup truck. Bruce shoved Dave into the passenger seat of the white sedan and locked his handcuffs to the safety handle with a rock climbing clip. Then he belted him and tied him to the seatback.

Dave gasped as pins shot his every muscle. Dizzy, he forced himself to breathe.

The car door closed. Muffled sounds emanated from the back seat. Dave’s jaw trembled, and he formed his words with great concentration.

“W-what do you want?”

Sherry sat in the driver’s seat and slapped his face. “Wake up. The best part is yet to come.”

She yanked his head around. Jen, gagged and bound, squirmed in the backseat. She kept shaking her head. Tears streamed down her face.

“Let her go. She hasn’t done anything.” His words came out slurred.

Sherry calmly pressed the button of the stun gun. The electrical charge buzzed between two prongs. “Don’t make me use this.”

“Sherry, why? Why are you doing this? What’s happened to you?”

“You, of all people, should know. You slept with me to get an “A.” You had me write your code, and you stole my ideas. When I got pregnant, you dumped me like a used pillow.”

“I didn’t know what to do. You disappeared and said you took care of it.”

She huffed, her brown eyes narrowed. “Yes, I took care of it all right. After we dump this bitch, me and you are taking our son, Alex, across the border. They’re in that car right now with my brother. And you better not try anything funny.”

“I don’t understand.”

Sherry rolled her eyes. “Do I have to spell out everything for you? I masqueraded as Patty Brown and got Alex to be your Little Brother so he’d get to know you. The real Patty is Jen’s roommate, the one you think is Sherry. We traded names after leaving the loony bin. Ever wonder why you never saw me? After we cross the border, you’re marrying me,
comprende?”

“You’re not going to get away with this.”

“Ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?” Sherry leaned over his face and kissed him on the lips. “Too bad Jenny isn’t going to enjoy watching you pant after me like Pavlov’s dog.”

Dave shifted his gaze to Jen. Her eyes were wide open, staring at him. He was in no position to resist, but he’d save Jen and think of how to ditch Sherry later. “I’ll go with you. Let Jen go. She hasn’t done anything.”

Sherry grabbed his chin and pointed it back at Jen. “Tell her what a user you were. Poor little missy’s going to commit suicide in your car because she found out I’m your true love.”

“No. Let her go, please.” Dave struggled against the handle, and another jolt of electricity sizzled through his body, paralyzing him.

Sherry threw her head against the headrest and laughed. “You know? She’s not the angel you thought she was. Not only did she sleep with Rodrigo and hand over your baby, the slut got pregnant and had an abortion.”

His nerves sizzled from the last zap, and he didn’t know up from down. She couldn’t have. Not Jen.

Sherry twirled the stun gun in her hand. “Ask her where she was when your wife died? Huh? I dare you.”

Dave clamped his mouth. Impossible.

“Okay, I’ll let you in on a secret. Jennifer Cruz was so jealous of Jocelyn that she set her up to die. She parked Jocelyn’s car way out in that field and stayed behind to clean the nursery. When they were finally finished, they headed for the car. Only Jennifer forgets something, and Jocelyn walks back to fetch it. A diaper bag, I believe? Jennifer tells Jocelyn she’d meet her in front of the church with the car. She straps Abby into the car seat and zooms back through the now empty lot. Kaboom! Jocelyn didn’t know what hit her! Jennifer calmly drives off, leaving your darling wife to bleed to death on the pavement.” Sherry mockingly sniffed and wiped a fake tear. “Such a good actress. Too bad she was a fatso.”

Dave’s heart crackled with a thousand watts of pain. Jen banged her head against the door and made muffled cries.

“I don’t believe you,” Dave said. “She loved Jocelyn.”

“Believe what you want. You can ask her in hell.” Sherry started the ignition. “This here is a Camry three point five liter, two hundred sixty-eight horsepower V6.”

She stepped out of the car and opened Jen’s door. “Say your prayers,
puta.
”

Pulling Jen by the armpits, she dragged her out of the car and threw her onto the pavement. Calmly, Sherry climbed into the driver seat. “Now, the fun starts. Ding dong, you lose. Say goodbye to your little
chingadera.
”

Sherry gunned her engine and jerked the steering wheel. The car circled where Jen lay. Bound around the wrists and ankles, Jen was exposed like a worm on the sidewalk after a rainstorm.

“No!” Dave shouted, before another million volts of electricity jolted him. All he heard was the sound of tires squealing and the rumble of Sherry’s Camry racing from one end of the lot to the other.

Chapter 41

Jen rolled onto the asphalt tar. The door slammed, and the Camry’s wheels churned dust in her face. Its tires screamed and ripped toward her. The headlights switched on.

Her heart shattered like blown glass. This was it. This was how Rey died. Oh, God, save me! The motor thundered. The car bore down on her. Jen rolled frantically. Broken glass dug into her back and sides. The wheels whipped by, barely missing her.

Pebbles and dirt scraped her cheeks. Jen kept rolling. Turn, elbows, knees, chest, back. Roll toward the parking blocks. Debris cut into her with every movement. Blood and pain smeared on her arms, legs and torso.

The car jerked around at the end of the lot and revved its engine for another try. It came skidding toward her. She flopped over one set of parking blocks and rested between the opposing sides. The Camry careened toward her and jumped the blocks not five feet away.

Jen’s pulse crested like the raging surf. The car would soon come back for another round. She squirmed over the opposite block and kept rolling. The Camry made a U-turn at the end near the church and roared toward her. If she could just get under Dave’s SUV. Before she could wiggle to the side of the lot, the Camry cut her off, narrowly missing her with a loud squeal as it skidded to the end of the row.

So, the bitch was playing a game with her. Jen gritted her teeth and rubbed the plastic ties against the parking block. Her ankles throbbed against the ties. If she could get them off, she could run. The harder she tried, the tighter the plastic dug into her wrists and ankles.

The Camry’s engine rumbled, and it swung around the next row for another try. Jen tucked her chin in and rolled like a bowling pin toward the edge of the lot. She scooted backward over the last set of blocks and tumbled into a drainage ditch.

Tires squealed and headlights pointed straight at her. Jen’s scream tore through her gagged lips. Just before impact, the Camry jerked hard to its right and tumbled wheels over roof. Its momentum carried it over the drainage ditch. It landed with a deafening metallic crunch on its top. A spider web of glass exploded, and a body flew through the windshield.

Dave! Oh, Dave! Agonizing waves of pain pulsated in Jen’s chest. Dave. He couldn’t die. No, God, no. She wiggled like a crazed caterpillar, flailing and flopping toward the wreck. The Camry’s tires gradually stopped rolling. Steam puffed from its open hood.

Silence.

The terrain was littered with broken bottles and twisted pieces of rebar and jagged concrete. She could barely move her knees but she jerked and squirmed toward the car.

“Dave, Dave,” she mumbled into her gag, her tears mixing with blood, and her head feeling faint.
Dave, I love you. I’ll always love you.

The distant sounds of sirens alerted her and before long, a set of searchlights blinded her. Hands lifted her and placed her on a stretcher. They removed the gag.

“Let me go. Let me go to Dave. David!”

They tied her down and put an oxygen mask on her face. Other hands attached a blood pressure cuff, and she was lifted into the ambulance.

* * *

Jen sat in the hospital bed and stared at her hands and arms. Not a single square inch was left without cuts and scratches. Her entire body ached as if stung by hundreds of bees. Bandages and tape covered her.

A nurse attached a blood pressure cuff. “You’re looking a lot better this morning. Anything I can get you?”

“Dave, is he okay?”

The nurse turned on the machine. “You mean the man in the car? He was brought to the hospital.”

Jen could barely breathe when the machine strangled her arm. Dave was alive. They didn’t bring dead people to the hospital. “How is he? Can I see him?”

The nurse shook her head and typed the readings into a terminal. “Your blood pressure’s elevated. I can’t talk about other patients, but if you’re up for visitors, the detective and your lawyer are outside.”

“Oh, I’m ready.” Jen smoothed her hair back and sat up, straightening her gown. The nurse opened the door and let them in on her way out.