Dark Visions (15 page)

The phone rang.

They looked at each other and turned from
the room. Halfway up the hall Amelia saw detective Johnson coming
toward them with a hands-free phone held out.

Amelia grabbed it on the fourth ring.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mrs. Roberts?"

"Yes. Who's this?" She looked at the cop in
the cramped hall. He nodded and rolled his hand in a gesture to
keep going.

"My name is Dolan Ryan. You may remember me
from my earlier call about your husband."

"Yes. Go on."

"I know about Sarah's disappearance."

"My husband just came home. He told me about
your meeting today."

"Things have changed. When your husband and
I met, I was letting personal reasons stop me from getting
involved, but I think I know where Sarah is. It's important I speak
with you right away."

Amelia almost dropped the phone. She fumbled
with it and then secured it at her ear. "What did you say? If you
know where she is, tell me."

"It's not that easy. The location is
secluded. I need to debrief the police. They will have to send in a
tactical unit. Let me work with the police and I'll get your
daughter back."

Chapter 34

It was after five in the morning and he
didn't have a car yet. The sun would be up soon.

This complicated things. The girl could be
anywhere by now. She could've hitched a ride, or walked back to
town, just like he did.

He felt stupid for leaving the motel. He
wondered why he did it in the first place. Would going back be
worth it? She couldn't have gotten far. She was weak, tired and
probably hungry. She too had probably passed out in the motel
somewhere, which meant she would awaken with the sun and have more
strength from a long rest, giving herself a good chance to make a
clean break.

He had to go back to the motel as soon as he
could get a car.

He made his way to a three story apartment
building. Cars littered the parking lot. He was hoping to find an
SUV or van of some kind. Older model preferred. Some car alarms
these days were difficult to circumvent.

Headlights cut through the early morning
fog. A vehicle turned onto the street he was walking on.

Gert ran and dodged behind a row of trimmed
bushes. He crouched down and waited for the car to pass.

He knew they would've found the dead cop
back on the highway by now. No doubt there would be cops everywhere
looking for the killer. Anyone found strolling the streets at this
early hour would be questioned. He didn't want to take any
chances.

The car was moving slow, drawing closer. He
figured it was still too dark for anyone to see him easily and he
wanted a good look at who was coming so he chanced a peek.

The first thing he saw was the lights on the
roof.

Then he had an idea.

Why would he steal a random vehicle and have
to hope he could get past the car alarms? Why not take another cop
car. He'd get more weapons, a police scanner so he could hear what
other cops were up to and he'd look like he was transporting a
criminal when he got the girl in the back seat.

He searched the pocket in his jeans. It
still held the fake police identification they used to grab the
girl on Birk Street.

Perfect.

He ran onto the road in front of the cop
car. It jolted to a stop.

"Help! My wife is hurt."

The driver's side door opened and the
officer got out. He stayed behind the door.

"Put your hands on your head," the cop
said.

Gert acted surprised and out of breath.
"What? I just told you my wife is hurt. These guys knocked on our
door twenty minutes ago and invaded our home. I managed to get
away, but they got my wife. I need your help. Come on." He turned
away as if to go, then stopped and looked back.

"I said, put your hands on your head. Do it
now."

He raised his hands, acting the part of a
distraught husband.

"How is it you're all dressed? You're always
dressed at five in the morning during a home invasion?"

Gert managed to get a tear out. It slipped
across the skin of his cheek. "I was traveling back from visiting
family. I got in late. I hadn't undressed for bed yet. My wife was
asleep. They had weapons. I had no choice but to run."

He took a step towards the cruiser. The
officer didn't challenge him, but remained standing behind his car
door. Gert could feel he was still suspicious.

"Where do you live?"

Got me
, he thought. What was the name
of the street he was just on? He racked his mind for a street name.
To stall, he cocked his ear and asked the cop to repeat his
question.

"Two blocks over," Gert said, pointing
behind him.

The officer moved around the door of the
car. His hand was suspended over his holster. "Step up to the
vehicle and put your hands on the hood."

"Are you serious?"

"I said put your hands on the hood." The
cop's voice was stern.

Gert shook his head and gave the guy his
best;
I can't believe you
, look.

He did as he was told. He shook his head
back and forth as he came to stand beside the car. "You're
something else, you know that? My wife could be raped by now. I run
out to get help. Of all the luck, I find a cop. But now I'm being
treated like a suspect or something."

He was talking as the cop drew closer. Then
he felt the cop's hands on him. Gert couldn't let the cop frisk him
at the waist.

He closed his eyes. The officer's hand
brushed Gert's gun on its pass over his belt in the rear of his
pants.

With as much speed as he could muster, Gert
spun around and threw his hand into the cop's neck just below the
jaw line.

The cop almost had his gun out of its
holster. But now both his hands clung to his throat as he gasped
for air.

Gert spun the cop around and withdrew his
gun, then shoved him against the hood of the cruiser. The cop
bounced off the car and dropped to the ground like a large fish
fresh out of water, gasping for air.

He knew it wasn't a killing blow. A punch in
the Adam's apple is an awful feeling, but unless the trachea
collapses, the cop will live. He needed to be more careful about
random killings. Especially cops.

The cruiser was still idling. Gert slipped
behind the wheel and hit the gas. The forward motion slammed the
driver's side door closed.

He looked in the rearview mirror. The cop
was rolling on the ground, still holding his throat.

Then he looked in the mirror again. From
this distance it was hard to tell, but it looked like the cop was
talking into a handheld microphone that had been suspended on his
lapel.

Shit. He should've ripped that off him. He
wasn't thinking fast enough.

Gert dropped the accelerator and raced the
cop car out of town. He increased the volume on the police radio.
Dispatchers were sending officers to a domestic and another to a
traffic violation for backup.

He looked at the time on the dash; 5:30am.
He'd be back at the motel in twenty minutes or less.

He would find his girl and try for the state
line.

Chapter 35

The sun shone bright through her windshield.
Even though she only had a mile left, she opened the console
between the seats and pulled out her sunglasses.

It looked like she'd arrive thirty minutes
earlier than Mr. Ward who was expected to show at 6:30am. They
would transfer the money, load the painting onto a special truck
Mr. Ward was bringing and the deal would be done. As long as
everything goes as planned, Denise would be free and clear in an
hour and a half. Then she would deal with the girl her guards had
found.

She put on her signal and slowed to pull
into the Sky Blue motel. No cars were visible. No one was here.
Perfect.

She stopped in front of the construction
trailer and turned her SUV off. Her stomach was in knots. This was
a legitimate sale, nothing illegal. Yet she still felt like a
criminal.

"It'll all be over soon," she said out loud
to comfort herself.

She got out of the vehicle and sucked in a
deep breath of the morning air. The smell of the pines made her
think of being at a cottage.

The wooden steps of the construction trailer
creaked under her weight as she fumbled with the keys.

A car on the highway slowed. She turned
around to see a dark colored Cadillac angling in to the abandoned
motels parking lot. The vehicle stopped behind hers. Two men got
out. They looked like Mr. Ward's thugs.

"Denise Hall?"

"Who're you?"

"We're the advance team for Mr. Ward. We're
here to make sure everything goes smooth."

The guy had a New York accent.

"I'm sure everything will, but suit
yourself. Hang around or do whatever you want. He's not expected
for another hour."

"You won't even know we're here."

The two men got in their car and backed
away. Denise watched as they drove around the side of the motel and
disappeared behind it.

Shit. She didn't expect that.

The highway was clear now. In the silence of
the morning she couldn't hear any other vehicles.

She opened the door to the trailer and
stepped in. Bruce stepped out from behind a partition. The
partition allowed for the guards to use the trailer at any time
without worrying if someone looked in through the trailer
window.

"Who are those guys in the Caddy?"

"Mr. Ward's men."

"Early."

"I know. Where's the girl?"

"Over here."

The guard stepped sideways and motioned
behind the partition. Denise walked by him and looked down.

"What the hell is this? What have you done
to her?"

"Nothing. She came like that."

The girl was missing a lot of hair. Her
forearms were bare. Patches appeared to've been torn out around her
head, mostly from the back. She had a couple of bruises, a sizable
one on her cheek. Her eyebrows were gone and in their place little
dots of blood showed where the hair had been torn out.

"Did you give her the bruise on the
cheek?"

"No. I knocked her out by the temple."

Denise looked at the girls wrists. They were
raw, like someone had tied her up. She fought an internal urge to
look away. This had gone too far.

"Tell me how she came to be here again."

Gunfire cut the morning stillness. They both
ducked, with the guard running for the door of the trailer.

More gunfire followed. Someone was
screaming.

The girl woke up.

Chapter 36

Things were bad and getting more
complicated. He'd pulled into the parking area of the motel and saw
an SUV parked at the construction trailer. During the twenty minute
drive to the Sky Blue, he'd figured that the trailer would've been
the ideal spot for her to stay hidden. And now someone was
there.

He had to hide the cruiser before whoever
was in the trailer saw him. He steered for the rear of the motel
where just hours ago he'd dumped the first stolen police car over
the hill.

When he came around to the back he was
welcomed by two large guys in leather jackets standing beside a
Cadillac. Right away he could tell these men were professionals.
They stared him down; their hands moving for their inner breast
pocket, where Gert guessed would be a weapon.

These guys are stupid
, he thought.
I'm driving a police car and they want to draw their
weapons.

He stopped the car safely out of view of the
construction trailer and the highway. Then he opened the door with
his left hand and used his right to pull his gun, which he
concealed behind his leg.

"Morning, gentlemen. I'll need to see your
driver's license and insurance."

The guy on the driver's side of the Cadillac
turned a little and looked like he was about to bend into the
car.

His partner pulled a weapon.

Gert drew his and fired.

A tiny hole formed on the guy's cheek. His
gun hand hesitated. There had been no time to dislodge the safety.
He didn't get a shot off before he fell to his knees. Then in slow
motion, he collapsed face first into the dirt.

All this happened in the time it took Gert
to turn towards the other guy and fire a second shot. This guy had
his gun out in record time. He also had his safety off.

Gert heard the air beside his head make a
buzzing sound as a bullet passed close by.

It took Gert three shots before he hit the
guy in the chest. The driver of the Cadillac got off two, both
going wild.

Questions swirled around Gert's head. He
almost bought it here and for what? Who were these guys?

He wiped his face as he ran over to the
bodies and hastily frisked them. No wallets, no identification.
Just two guys in a Cadillac, dressed well, who shoot at cops before
pulling their driver's license.

Man this is fucked up.

Words like mobsters and made men went
through his head. He'd never known any, but these guys acted like
they were above the law. He realized how lucky he was to still be
alive.

Still hunched down by the driver's body,
Gert looked around. He scanned the bushes, his gun leveled. Then he
stared at the windows of the motel. Nothing. No movement
whatsoever.

His heart was racing now that the gunplay
was over. He hadn't been shot at in years. It all started to crash
in on him. The morning sun beat down on his back. He should have
felt heat, but he started to shiver. His shirt clung to him, pasted
by sweat.

No time to waste pondering. Find the girl
and get out.

He stood and walked over to the edge of the
motel wall where he peaked around the corner. The SUV was still
there. The trailer looked like it did before; still no movement
anywhere.