Forgotten Memories (SWAT: Top Cops Book 4) (16 page)

“You don’t want me to have to hurt you, do you?” he sneered.

“N-no.” For a moment a horrible memory flashed in her mind, an image of being in her father’s study, listening to him pleading for his life.

But then the image was gone, vanishing on a wave of pain so terrible it twisted her stomach and stole her breath.

No! She needed to remember!

“Where are they?” Creighton demanded harshly.

She fought against the pain, keeping her voice even with an effort. “They’re hidden at Richard’s house,” she finally admitted, hoping, praying that Shane and Nate had figured out by now that she was gone. That they’d manage to find her at Richard’s house.

Before it was too late.

“I knew it,” Creighton said, slamming his fist on the steering wheel of the car. “The old man caught me searching his office so I knocked him out, but then the cops arrived before I could finish searching the place.”

“Didn’t you go back?” she asked.

“Not right away, but I did go to see your dear old stepfather in the hospital,” Creighton said in a snide tone. “Did you know that? I tried to get him to talk, but he wouldn’t cooperate.”

Gabby caught her breath. “You killed him,” she whispered.

Creighton let out an evil laugh that made her shiver. “Yeah, because I needed to make sure he wouldn’t wake up later and give me away. Anyone can push a syringe full of air into his veins and it was easy to slip away before anyone saw me.”

Grief and despair welled up inside her. Richard had died of an air embolus not from a blood clot. Her stepfather had been another of Creighton’s casualties.

Just like she would be, if she didn’t figure out what paperwork he was looking for.

“How did you find me after all these years?” she asked in a feeble attempt to keep him talking. Thankfully, the fog made driving tricky and Creighton couldn’t go as fast as he likely wanted to.

Although, that meant Shane and Nate had the same disadvantage.

“I got lucky,” Creighton said. “Saw you giving a news conference after that airport shooting. Have to say, I was surprised to find you were some hotshot surgeon. I might not have recognized you after twenty-one years, but your red hair and facial features were so much like your father’s, and having the same last name cinched it.”

Gabby’s pulse spiked at his words. Creighton had obviously been acquainted with her father, but knowing he’d seen her, maybe even had watched her, made her feel sick to her stomach.

She should have listened to Jake Walsh, the federal marshall who’d relocated her and her mother after her father’s death. She never should have changed her name back to Fielding the minute she turned eighteen. At the time, she’d done that in a rare flash of defiance. As a way to show Richard and her mother that she didn’t care if she wasn’t a part of their family.

But, in fact, that act of rebellion had led Creighton straight to her all these years later.

For what? What did he want from her?

Money. Of course, this had to be about greed and money.

But she didn’t have any money, not in the way he might have assumed a doctor would.

But her father may have had money, she realized with a sinking sensation. Her head throbbed, but she forced herself to ignore the pain. Her father had been an accountant for one of the largest casinos in Vegas. What if Shane and Nate had been right all along?

What if her father, the man she’d idolized growing up, had actually been a criminal? Embezzling money that didn’t belong to him?

Money that Creighton would continue to kill for, until he had it for his own.

SIXTEEN

S
hane peered through the fog, relieved to note it wasn’t as thick as before. The sun was doing its job, burning away the remnants of moisture that clung to the air. “Take this next exit,” he directed. “We’ll come up on Richard’s house from the back way.”

Nate didn’t argue, hadn’t said much at all since Shane had found the GPS device planted beneath the car.

Shane used his radio to update Griff. “This is unit twelve, our ETA to the Strawn residence is less than ten minutes,” he said.

“Ten-four,” Griff responded. “Unit seven is on scene, looking to get in sharpshooter position. Your extra SWAT gear is in the vehicle.”

Shane understood that unit seven was Jenna Reed, and he was glad to have her as backup. Once she had Creighton in the crosshairs, he was confident she’d make the shot to put him out of commission.

“Ten-four,” he said, acknowledging the information. “We’re not going to get too close, we’d rather go in on foot.”

There was only a brief hesitation before Griff answered. “Ten-four.”

“You should have told him about the tracking device,” Nate said grimly. “He deserves to know what happened.”

Shane shrugged. “Doesn’t matter now... There’s no threat since we got rid of it. Besides, there’ll be time for a full confession after we rescue Gabby.”

“I hope they’re at the house,” Nate muttered.

“They
will
be,” Shane said, infusing confidence in his tone. “Gabby’s smart...she’d find a way to lure him there, knowing it’s the most logical place for us to find her.”

“I didn’t trust her at first,” Nate confessed. “I thought you were too emotionally involved, so I was determined to consider every possible option. I obviously went too far the other way.”

Shane sighed. “You were right, I was—and still am—too emotionally involved with her. But we’re going to find Gabby, Nate. I’ve been praying a lot and I believe God is with us, guiding us.”

“I hope you’re right.” There was still a hint of doubt lacing Nate’s tone.

“I am. Pull over in that parking lot,” he said, indicating the strip mall that was located to the left. “Strawn’s place is roughly four blocks behind those buildings, right in the middle of a high-end subdivision.”

“Lots of people around, heading to work this time of the morning,” Nate observed as he parked at the end of the parking lot. “Do you think he’ll risk it?”

“Yeah, I do,” Shane said, hoping he was right. He desperately needed to believe Gabby and Creighton were there because the alternative was too painful to contemplate. “Let’s move.”

He and Nate slid out of the car and Shane led the way through several neighbors’ yards, glad that his buddy was still wearing his uniform, his badge clearly displayed on his chest. It was broad daylight, not exactly the easiest time to sneak up on someone. Still, he wondered how many home owners might come outside to gape, giving them away?

Hopefully, most people would be at work.

When they crossed the street of the third block, Shane slowed down, signaling Nate to take cover. He spotted Jenna’s vehicle parked alongside the road and crossed over to pull out the SWAT gear she’d left in the backseat. Rather than wasting time changing into a full uniform, he pulled on the bullet-resistant vest over his sweater and grabbed extra ammunition, just in case he needed it.

When he finished, he continued on his path between houses. This particular neighborhood had many big, fancy homes with large yards and an abundance of trees, a fact that worked in their favor. He and Nate took turns moving through the backyard that butted up against Richard’s property, using bushes and trees for coverage.

Shane swept his gaze across the area, searching for any sign of Gabby or Creighton. When he saw a tan sedan parked in the driveway, his lungs filled with a wave of satisfaction. He knew full well that Richard’s car, a vintage Corvette, had been parked in the garage the last time he’d been here. Which meant the sedan had to belong to Creighton.

Gabby was here!

He crouched between a large fire bush and turned back to look at Nate, who was standing beside a large maple tree. Shane gestured to the sedan and then put his thumb up, as an indication they were on the right track.

His partner nodded and pointed upward. Shane’s gaze traveled up to the lowest branches of the tree. Jenna Reed was perched there, holding her M40 Sniper Rifle ready, the business end pointed directly at the house. She didn’t notice him and Nate standing there, since she was peering intently through the scope.

Could she see Gabby and Creighton inside? There were dozens of windows on the house and he had to think for a minute to orient himself, remembering the interior layout from the last time he’d been there.

Richard’s study was located on this side of the house in the corner facing west and south. Gabby was smart—even though Creighton had searched the study, she’d find a way to convince him that he’d missed what he was looking for.

At least, that’s what he hoped she’d do.

Now that he knew that his backup was in place, along with the possibility of a second sniper—hopefully, Caleb O’Malley, on the opposite side of the house—Shane decided it was time to make their move.

Once again, he took the lead, keeping low as he made his way across the yard to the side of the house. Inching along the side, he crept up to the front door. Testing the knob, he was relieved to find it unlocked.

Mistake number one for Creighton. Or maybe it was mistake number two, since coming to Richard’s in the first place could be considered a grievous error.

Shane eased stealthily into Richard’s house, practically hugging the wall to avoid any chance of stepping on a squeaky floorboard and alerting Creighton to his presence.

Once he cleared the foyer, he could hear voices coming from inside the study. Two voices, male and female.

Relief that Gabby was still alive filled his chest, infusing him with fierce conviction.

Gabby would not suffer at Creighton’s hands for much longer. He’d do whatever was necessary to get her safe.

Sacrificing his life for hers, if necessary.

* * *

Gabby held her cuffed wrists awkwardly in front of her as she watched Creighton warily. He still had his gun trained on her, but he was standing behind Richard’s desk, looking at her intently.

“Well? Now what?” he asked impatiently.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she could hold him off. Creighton had grown irritated with her questions, and she’d already taken him through the right side of Richard’s desk only to come up empty-handed.

All too soon, he’d realize she’d been lying to him about where the papers were.

And she was very much afraid that he’d shoot her in the kneecap, the way he’d threatened to, in order to make her scream with pain yet live to tell him what she knew.

“I know I’ve seen the file,” she repeated for what seemed like the tenth time. “It has to be in one of his desk drawers. I asked him to hide it amongst his business paperwork, in a place no one would look for it.”

Creighton’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Don’t lie to me,” he threatened in a low, dangerous tone. “Or I’ll make sure you regret it.”

She swallowed hard and wondered if it was time to change tactics. She’d been praying steadily from the moment Creighton had kidnapped her from the motel. And though she knew it was important not to lose faith, it sure wasn’t easy.

Please, Lord, please give me strength and courage!

Creighton bent down to go through the last desk drawer and she knew she couldn’t delay a minute longer.

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” she said abruptly. “I didn’t give Richard the information because I memorized it. Everything you need to know is in my memory.”

Creighton’s head snapped up to hers, his face turning an ugly shade of red and his eyes cold with fury. He slowly straightened and then deliberately tipped the point of his gun down, toward her legs. At this close range he couldn’t possibly miss.

She took a hasty step back, raising her cuffed wrists in a gesture of surrender. “Wait! Don’t shoot! You don’t understand—I have an eidetic memory. A photographic memory! I can remember every single detail, can re-create what you’re looking for right here, right now...” she said in a rush.

He stared at her for a long moment, as if he didn’t believe her. But then he threw his head back and laughed. “A photographic memory, just like your father, eh? It took a while to figure out that he used his ability to memorize things to skim money away from the casinos and into his overseas bank accounts so easily. He got away with it, too, until my uncle and the owner of the casino, Frankie Palmetto, got suspicious and hired someone else to double-check your father’s work.”

For a moment she winced, the pain returning as she realized her father had been guilty of a pretty significant crime. Why had he used his incredible talent to steal? Why hadn’t he just taken her and her mother away, somewhere safe, instead of risking his life for money?

Knowing she’d inherited his memory made her feel sick.

But then she realized that Creighton had given her exactly what she needed. Bank accounts! Of course, that’s what he was looking for. Overseas bank accounts that still held the money her father had embezzled all those years ago.

Abruptly, the memory she’d repressed as a child came rushing back to her.

Her father had been working from home that day, and she’d been sitting on the floor in his study, next to the windows beneath the golden rays of sunlight. He hadn’t minded her being there, as long as she was quiet, so she buried her nose in her favorite book,
The Black Stallion.
When the doorbell rang, her father got up to answer it, there was a loud noise, the front door banging open.

Her father had looked shocked and then scared.

“Hide, Gabriella! Under the desk. Don’t come out and don’t make a sound. No matter what happens, don’t let them see you!”

Gabby had taken her book and crawled under the desk, curling into a ball as small as possible. Her father shoved the desk chair in front of her to help keep her hidden from view.

At first, the men had only talked to her father, demanding the account numbers. Her father denied having them, but then she heard a harsh slap and knew that someone had been hit. There was another slap, and then another, and when she heard her father cry out in pain, she covered her ears and closed her eyes, wishing desperately that her father would just give them the account numbers so the bad men would go away and leave them alone.

Then there was a long silence, before one of the men accused the other of going too far.

“You hit him too hard! He’s dead, you idiot! You’ve killed him! Now we’ll never get the account numbers!”

There was another loud thud, and from beneath the wheels of the rolling chair, she saw her father’s bruised and battered face pressed against the carpet, blood seeping into the beige fibers, spreading into a dark red stain.

Her father was dead.

She thought she might have screamed, but the men didn’t find her, so she must have only screamed in her mind. Over and over again...

“Are you sure?” Creighton demanded, drawing Gabby back to the present. “Are you sure you have them memorized?”

For a moment she stood there, looking at him uncertainly. Then she gathered every ounce of her strength together, knowing that she had to hang on long enough for Shane to find her.

“Yes,” she said, injecting confidence into her voice. “I have all the bank account numbers memorized. If you give me a few minutes, I’ll write them down for you.”

Creighton reached out and roughly grabbed her arm, yanking her around the desk. He pushed her into the chair and handed her a pen and a pad of paper. Holding the pen was awkward with the handcuff’s on but not impossible.

“Get writing,” he commanded, pushing the tip of the gun against her temple as if to remind her he was armed and dangerous. “And don’t think of trying to fool me—I have a computer and we’re not going anywhere until I’ve checked them out.”

When he pulled a tablet out of the inside of his coat pocket, her heart sank. This was it. The minute he checked the bank account numbers, he’d know she was lying.

Gabby glanced around the room, searching for a way out. She must not have stalled long enough, because she thought for sure Shane would be there by now.

“Well? Hurry up!” Creighton said, turning on his portable computer.

Her fingers tightened on the pen, and she wondered, briefly, if she could stab him with it, gaining the advantage long enough to escape.

Probably not. He’d no doubt shoot her. Her gaze went to the window, thinking that the bright sunlight was just as it had been back on the day her father had died. There was a flash of bright light in the tree that made her frown, but an instant later it was gone.

Had she imagined it? Maybe.

“You were there that day, in my father’s study, weren’t you?” she asked, risking a glance at Creighton. “You must have been young then, in your early twenties.”

For the first time since this nightmare started, Creighton looked surprised. “How did you know?”

“I was there that day, hiding under my father’s desk,” she said. “You didn’t realize that I was there, listening as you tried to beat the account numbers out of him with your fists. You killed him, didn’t you? You hit him too hard and killed him without getting the account numbers you wanted.”

Creighton gaped at her, clearly stunned by the news. She saw the barest hint of a shadow near the doorway, and her heart raced with anticipation.

Was Shane there? Waiting to make his move?

“You didn’t realize I’d witnessed my father’s murder, did you?” Gabby hoped that by talking she’d distract Creighton from noticing Shane. “You hadn’t anticipated that me and my mother would be whisked away into witness protection as a result.”

Creighton’s face got red again and she forced a harsh laugh from her tight throat.

“Everything backfired on you that day. If you hadn’t killed my father, you would have had the account numbers and would have gotten away free and clear.”