I'm Watching You (33 page)

"Shit," Zack said. "She spent last night with
Ruby."

Warwick paled. "Jesus."

"Vega said Ruby had a break-in last week. But nothing was taken.
Something was added, though." Zack flipped open his cell and called
Ayden. "We have a hit." He explained what they'd found.
"Send backup."

Warwick shoved out a breath. He was struggling to hold it together. And
if they'd had time, Zack would have pulled him out of there immediately.
But he sensed that time was running out.

"I want a look in that basement but I don't want a defense
attorney crapping on my case because I don't have a warrant."

Warwick dug in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "I have
access to the gym with no restrictions." He rubbed the back of his neck
with his hand. "If I needed a new set of gloves and couldn't find
them upstairs, I'd look in the basement. It's where Pete kept extra
equipment when I was here last year."

Zack smiled but there was no pleasure. "I was hoping you'd
say something like that."

Warwick opened the basement door lock and flipped the light switch at
the top of the stairs. Both cops drew their guns. Slowly they made their way
down the rickety steps, their bodies crouched.

Halfway down, Zack moved past Warwick and peered around a blind corner.
He saw the computer table.
The monitors.
And the rows
and rows of tapes, each meticulously dated and arranged in chronological order.

Warwick stared at the room in horror and disbelief. His world was
shattering. But he was holding it together. Later the problems would come as
the enormity of it all hit him.

The heavy coppery scent of blood rose up as they moved toward the
computer. Zack glanced toward a second door. He motioned to Warwick.

Warwick nodded. Guns
raised
, they moved to
either side of the door. Zack counted to three. On three he shoved open the
door. "Police, come out with your hands up."

A faint moan echoed from the corner. It sounded as if someone was
injured. Still, he didn't rush the room.

Careful to keep his body out of a shooter's line of fire, Zack
slid his hand into the room and felt around for a light switch. He found one
and clicked it on.

The first thing they saw was the blood. The entire floor was covered
with it. This had been the Guardian's killing room. No doubt Saunders's
DNA would be all over the place.

Warwick's gaze settled in a shadowed corner.
"Oh
my God."

Zack tightened his grip on his gun. "What?"

"Kendall Shaw."

While Zack covered him, Warwick holstered his gun and hurried toward the
reporter. She lay on the floor curled in a fetal position. Fresh blood pooled
around her and stained her clothes.

Zack still didn't trust that this wasn't some kind of trap.
"Is she alive?"

Warwick touched his fingers to her neck.
"A
faint pulse.
She's been shot in the shoulder." He flipped
open his cell phone and dialed Dispatch.
"All this
blood.
It's a miracle she's alive."

"Check her hands. Does she have both her hands?"

The doors to the hospital's garage elevator opened and Dr. Sam
Begley walked out. The Guardian got out of the van and glanced at the clock
above the elevator.
"About damn time."

The doctor frowned and kept moving toward his shiny BMW. "I
couldn't get away. We had an emergency."

"I have an emergency. I need to know where Lindsay is."

"She's not in the hospital. I looked everywhere."

"Who was the battered woman brought in? You know never to call
Lindsay without calling me first."

Sam's forehead perspired. "I didn't treat a battered
woman today. No one from the hospital called Lindsay."

"Damn it."

"The cops were here. They brought Lindsay and her roommate in for
blood tests Wednesday. Did you drug them?"

The Guardian was running over an image of Lindsay standing in
Ruby's kitchen. She'd been called by the hospital. He was certain.
"Yes. It was the only way to keep them safe while I worked."

"Jesus. You never said anything about hurting Lindsay."

He didn't like the doctor's tone. "I would never hurt
her."

Begley shook his head. "You shot those kids today. Christ, one is
dead and the other is fighting to stay alive."

Guilt gnawed at him. "They could ID me. They had to go."

"This has gone too far. I'm out. It's just a matter of
time before the cops connect us."

The doctor didn't have the conviction to honor agreements. Spoiled
rich boy had had everything handed to him on a silver platter. He didn't
understand commitment. "You promised me you'd help whenever I
asked."

Begley lowered his voice. "I'd never have gotten into this
if not for my debts. I've more than satisfied my gambling debts to you. I
never want to see you again."

The Guardian slid his hand into his pocket. His fingers brushed the cool
metal of his gun and silencer. "You're done when I say you're
done."

Begley pulled off his glasses and cleaned the lenses on his shirt. The
man actually looked defiant. "I'm finished."

The shrill tone in the doctor's voice grated. The Guardian could
see the man was nervous. It wouldn't take much squeezing from the cops to
make him talk. He'd like to use the doctor longer, but now he realized
the time had come for them to part ways. "If that's the way you
want it."

"Good."

The Guardian pulled the gun and silencer from his pocket and before the
doctor realized what was happening, he fired three times. Each bullet struck
Begley in the heart. For just a split second, surprise marred the
doctor's face as he glanced down at the plume of blood growing on his
chest. He staggered and would have fallen if the Guardian hadn't caught
him.

The thrill of taking life sent a tingle through the Guardian's
body. "You were part of a noble cause and I won't forget what you
did for me."

Begley's eyes rolled back in his head. He was dead.

The Guardian opened the back of his van and dumped Begley's body
in. He'd deal with him later. Now, he needed to find Lindsay.

He got in the front seat of the van and turned on a GPS system. The
system tracked a bug he'd put under the back bumper of Lindsay's
car. Since he'd seen the article about her in May and realized who she
was he'd been determined never to lose sight of her again. At any given
moment, he could find her.

The GPS beeped and at first he thought it was broken. Then he realized
she was parked in the hospital deck. He turned on the engine and started to
patrol the decks. He found her car on the bottom level. With the van still
running, he got out and checked her car. It was locked. He scanned the deck but
there was no sign of her.

Something was wrong.

The feeling was as intense as it had been those years Debra had lived
with her husband. He'd known she was in danger then but he'd bowed
to her will and left them alone as she'd begged him to.

He got back in the van and pulled a disposable cell from his pocket and
he dialed Lindsay's number. It rang six times and then went to voice
mail. Something was very wrong. She always answered her cell.

He closed his eyes.
Think. Where could she be? Think.

The Guardian's mind raced. This morning when Lindsay had been in
Ruby's kitchen, Ruby had spoken of the San Francisco murder.
The Carmichael woman.
She'd also mentioned that Nicole's
husband, Richard Braxton, was from San Francisco.

It made sense that Richard would eventually find Nicole. But he
hadn't thought it would be so soon. If Richard was in the area,
he'd not likely find her, because she was safely hidden at the
Kiers'. But Lindsay was an open target. He'd go after Lindsay first
and use her to get to Nicole.

How could he have been such a fool?

He'd been so consumed with Kendall that he'd ignored a
critical danger. He'd made the same mistake he'd made with Debra
all those years ago, when he'd underestimated his brother-in-law's
rage.

The Guardian felt a rush of panic as he tightened his hands on the
steering wheel. He had to think. Think like a hunter. What would he do with
Lindsay if he were Richard?

He might kill her in front of Nicole as some sort of lesson. Richard
would need a secluded place. The scenarios made the Guardian sick but also gave
him hope. There might still be time.

Nicole was at the Kiers' and there was the possibility he could
beat Braxton there. He dialed the Kiers' home number.

"Hello."

He suspected the young voice belonged to Zack's sister, Eleanor.
She was a sweet kid and Lindsay had great affection for her. "This is Dr.
Begley at the hospital. I'm calling to speak to Lindsay."

"Lindsay's not here."

"Is her friend Nicole there?"

"She's in the bathroom."

Good. She was still there. "Don't bother her. I'll
just call back."

"Okay."

He hung up and threw the car in drive. He still had time, but how much
he didn't know. He raced out of the parking deck and cut through city
traffic and onto I-95 north.

His heart pounded as he wove in and out of the traffic. He
couldn't screw this one up. He couldn't.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled onto the rural road leading to the
Kiers' and slowly drove past their house. He parked in a driveway down
the street, climbed out of the van, and hurried through the woods that
separated the houses. Staying low, he moved toward the house. At first he saw
only Mrs. Kier, who was at the kitchen sink washing dishes. He needed to move
closer to get a better look but feared being detected.

His pulse raced. "Get out of the way," he whispered.

And then she stepped aside and he was able to see into the kitchen.
Nicole was at the table playing cards with anther woman and an older man.

He breathed a sigh of relief. There was still time. He hurried back to
his van and prayed Braxton hadn't hurt Lindsay.

The drugs in Lindsay's system made it hard for her to concentrate.
She was aware of strong hands supporting her as she stumbled forward. She
couldn't seem to lift her feet or keep her balance.

The area around them was quiet. Wherever they were was far from the main
road. She opened her eyes and saw she was being taken toward an old barn.

The air was thick with humidity and sweat had dampened the back of her
shirt. "Where are we?" she muttered.

The man holding her laughed. "We are in a very private place.
Where no one will bother us.
Where no one will hear you
scream."

Lindsay swallowed her rising terror. "Why are you doing this? Who
are you?"

"I'm someone who doesn't appreciate you sticking your
nose where it doesn't belong."

"Who are you?"

"Christina's husband."

Christina. Nicole. "Richard Braxton."

"So she's talked about me?" Hate and resentment laced
the words.

"Yes."

Braxton kicked open the rickety barn door and pulled her inside across
the dirt floor. When they were in the center, he let go of her. She crumpled
face-first into a heap. She tasted dirt and tried to spit it out of her mouth
as she rolled onto her back. Above, she saw sunshine peeking through the slats
of a room. In the distance she heard birds.

Lindsay moistened her lips. She felt so dry. There was little doubt that
Richard planned an awful death for her. She remembered what Zack had told her
he'd done to Claire.

She opened her eyes. Her vision was blurred but she could make out dark
hair and a square face. She tried to sit up but he roughly pushed her against
the hard ground. He straddled her body. She felt his erection press against her
belly and she thought he was going to rape her.

She wanted to fight but found her body drifting as if she were on a raft
floating out to sea.

Instead, he pounded two stakes into the ground above her head and then
roughly grabbed her hands and lashed them tightly to the stakes. His weight
lifted and he moved to her legs. He yanked her legs open wide and tied them to
more stakes, then hammered them into the ground.

She tried to pull her hands free of the stakes, but they didn't
budge. The hemp cut into the tender flesh of her wrist.

Through the haze, Lindsay understood that she needed to do something to
save herself. She drew in a lungful of air and screamed as loud as she could.

Richard cursed, drew back, and slapped her hard across the face.
"Shut up, bitch. I don't have time for this."

Pain rattled through her head.

He slid his hand to the flat of her belly and up under her shirt. He
squeezed her breast painfully. She struggled in vain against her restraints as
her stomach heaved at the thought of what was to come.