Irresistible Force (31 page)

She moaned like a wounded animal as other images pressed in to drown out the first.

Headfirst into a hole. No light at the end of this tunnel.
Why wasn’t there night and starlight at the other end?

She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t see. Couldn’t be sure her assailant wasn’t still looking for her. Suddenly she realized it didn’t matter, she couldn’t stay here. Had to get out.

She began back crawling backward, whimpering as her hands touched unspeakably wet and smelly debris lining the bottom of the pipe.

Her panicked jerky movements were uncoordinated. The curved surface beneath her hands began to tremble. Her palm slipped in something slick and wet and she lost her balance and fell hard against the concave wall.

She felt something shift beneath her, a slight roll, and then a thud struck above her head, jarring the pipe in which she was encased.

She held her breath in fright as the movement reverberated beneath her palms. Strange squeaky squealing sounds came from deep below her. More slippage. Then the bottom fell out.

She was rolling over and over, bouncing and bumping, unable to control her body or brace herself. There was nothing to hold on to. There were only the sounds of her cries and the low rumbling like a herd of buffalo crossing a plain.

The stop was more abrupt than the free fall. The pipe she was in slammed into something hard.

Shay’s head whiplashed, hitting both sides of the curved wall. Then she was spiraling down a black hole.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

The pickup truck that roared past James on the county road that led to Lake Gaston sported a flashing dash-mounted emergency light. He noticed the sticker in the rear window said:
WARREN COUNTY VOLUNTEER FIRE DEPARTMENT
. It made his heart rate tick up a beat with impatience. Not even the traffic was cooperating. Nothing he could see was on fire. Most likely they were just out joyriding on a Friday night.

“Bastards,” he muttered under his breath, allowing a trace of anger to keep him focused and alert. Every minute delayed was eating at his control. He knew when he found the man who had been stalking Shay he was going to need it, every damned ounce.

He’d called the Warren County sheriff’s office from Raleigh. The dispatcher said the sheriff and his deputies were out, part of an investigation over a hunting accident. She’d have someone check on the cabin as soon as they could shake loose. So far, he’d heard nothing back. Shay still wasn’t answering, either.

Eyes locked on the road ahead, he blocked the feeling eating him up inside whenever Shay drifted into his mind. He had wasted more than two hours going all the way to Raleigh. He should have known better.

Raleigh police had been by Shay’s place of work only to be told she no longer worked at Halifax Bank. Nor was she at Logital Solutions when they checked. Finally, as James was entering the city limits, a final call came in that turned him north, toward the cabin.

Shay wasn’t at home. But one of her neighbors had come over when she saw a police officer at Shay’s door. She told the Raleigh officer he was the second law enforcement officer at Shay’s door in two days. She also told him that she had seen Shay packing her car earlier in the afternoon. And then she related the incident about the run-over cat the night before, and that Shay had been drunk when she did it.

Driving drunk
. That didn’t sound like Shay. Going to ground for the weekend at the lake cabin did. Shay probably thought she was running from the threat of a civil suit. If only he could warn her that she was running from something much more dangerous. An ex-con with an open-ended authorization to take care of her.

He hit the steering wheel with the flat of his palm. Why the hell didn’t she call back? Was what he had done, or not done, so unforgivable?

He had a suspicion that it was.

He pressed the gas pedal harder.

From the rearview mirror he saw a second vehicle coming up fast behind him in the darkness with flashing lights and an earsplitting siren. This was a fire department vehicle, a pumper.

Cursing under his breath, he pulled over, his cruiser’s tires kicking up gravel and red dirt as he hit the unpaved shoulder. He yanked the wheel to bring him back on to the tarmac and floored it, gaining speed until he was almost on the bumper of the truck.

Okay, so there was a fire somewhere. It wasn’t much farther to the lake itself. The vehicles would have to turn soon.

A few moments later he saw through a thinned-out line of trees a small orange glow off to the right ahead. The hair lifted on his nape. That was the direction of Shay’s cabin.

Something raw and wrathful swept through him. If the bastard had hurt Shay—

Bogart pushed his muzzle into the opening, and began to vocalize softly. James took a breath. His partner was feeding off his heightened emotions.

“It’s okay, boy.”

Sucking air until it whistled between his teeth, James struggled to rein in his most savage emotions. This was not the time to lose control. This was the time to think and act like a lawman. He and Bogart would get the asshole. But they’d do it the right way.

He had to brake hard when the fire truck swung off the tarmac onto the gravel lane that led to the cabin. When it pulled over near a red fire hydrant, he shot past it.

There were already people in the yard, neighbors who had left their homes to come and help. What filled his vision was the cabin. Smoke poured through the open doorway while flames danced behind the glass of the windows.

Dear God, don’t let Shay be in there.

He slammed on his brakes, halfway out of the cruiser before he skidded to a stop.

His heart was pounding so loudly he couldn’t make out any individual voices, but he swept the face of everyone he passed looking for Shay. Not here. Somehow he knew that. She wasn’t in the yard. The only place she could be was inside.

He didn’t hesitate. He broke into a trot, heading straight for the door.

Someone checked him, throwing him off balance, and then a gloved hand pressed hard into his chest, forcing him to a stop.

He turned to shove the intruder off and saw a man maybe twenty years his senior in seventy-five pounds of firefighting gear. Their gazes met, an older unyielding purpose matching younger single-minded determination.

The fireman dropped his hand and pointed at his comrades from the pickup, geared up and ready to go in. “This is our job. Let us do it.”

“There may be a woman in there.”

The man looked at James only a second longer, then shouted to his companions, “Possible woman inside!” He turned back to James. “We were told it was empty.”

James noticed the firemen didn’t head for the front door where smoke billowed. They headed for the back of the house where there were no flames or smoke visible. James followed. The man who’d stopped him stayed by his side.

He’d heard other firemen say, “We fight from the unburned to the burned.” That meant getting behind a fire to keep it from spreading through the structure, saving, if possible, what remained.

The kitchen was relatively free of smoke. Two firemen went in with hoses while James spent the longest five minutes of his life waiting in the yard for one of them to return.

When he did, the man made a motion with his hands that said they had not found anyone inside.

James moved forward, about to ask if they’d looked everywhere, but the fireman beside him intervened again and met him eye to eye. “They looked. Everywhere.”

James nodded, shivering against the adrenaline rush of relief. Shay wasn’t in the fire. But where the hell was she?

He waited a few long minutes, just to be certain, as the hoses did their job.

Finally one of the first to go in came out and walked up to James.

“No one in there. But there is evidence that someone was here recently. There’re groceries still in bags. Maybe she ran when the fire started.”

That should have made James feel better but it didn’t. If she’d run from the fire, she would have called it in or gone to the nearest house for help.

He turned and looked, and sure enough her car was still in the yard. Had Shay been surprised by the ex-con? Had he kidnapped her and set the fire to leave no trace? No scenario running through his thoughts was a good one.

Something began to ache deep in his chest. It grew so quickly that a groan escaped him.

A hand fell on his shoulder. “You okay?”

He glanced at the older fireman who was still watching him.

“Yeah.” And just like that James shut down. Time for emotion later. He was a lawman and needed to do his job. He walked around to the rear of the cabin.

“Did your people do this?” He pointed to the kitchen door, all but off its hinges.

The guy shook his head. “Someone did that for us.”

“Right.” James turned back to his vehicle to get Bogart. Shay and her attacker must be somewhere out there in the darkness, shielded by the surrounding woods. The thought that her stalker might have driven off with her to God-only-knew-where was too much to contemplate.

As he neared his cruiser he saw a sheriff’s vehicle pulling into the yard. It was Deputy Ward. He met the man at his door.

“I have reason to believe Shay’s been abducted.” James went through the key points quickly in an unemotional voice.

The deputy looked past him at the house, his face serious under the light of the NightWatcher light. The firemen were winning. The fire seemed to be all but out. “One of the neighbors from down the road just made a 911. There’s been a break-in. On the other side of these woods, over by the parking lot of the public pier about three miles from here if you drive around. Witness says the guy’s armed. Could be unrelated.”

James didn’t think so. “That’s got to be our man.”

Deputy Ward hitched up his pants. “Shay wasn’t with him.”

“Then he’ll know where to find her.” James locked out any other possibility. “I want to come with you. Bogart and I can be very useful.”

The deputy looked at Bogart, who was barking and circling inside his cage, eager to be let loose, and then nodded. “I deputize you right now.”

*   *   *

“He ran that way.” Two young men in gimme caps and hunting jackets who flagged them down in the street pointed toward a wood-and-metal-frame building in the distance. “We were camping in the woods when this guy comes running in out of nowhere. Nearly knocked the tent over. He shot at us and then kept going. We followed him here.”

“Okay. I appreciate your help. Now you fellas step over there across the street. I wouldn’t want either of you to get hurt.” They moved so quickly the deputy had to call after them, “Don’t go too far. I’m gonna need statements after we get this situation sorted out.”

When they had pulled in and parked a safe distance away, James and the deputy studied their surroundings behind the safety of their vehicles. Little detail could be seen beyond the ring of light cast by a lone bulb posted in the parking lot, but the shuttered building appeared to be abandoned. The door had clearly been kicked in and only halfway reclosed.

“Why do you suppose he’s hiding instead of just taking off?” Deputy Ward looked at James.

“Maybe Shay got away from him and he realized that if he left her behind she could later identify him. Or maybe he thought he’d stick around to find out how much trouble he’s in.”

“Hell of a thing.” The deputy sounded almost wistful but when James glanced at him, the lawman’s face was a solid wall of pissed off.

James gave a chin-up motion to indicate the structure. “What is that?”

“Bait shop during the high season. This ain’t the season.”

James waited impatiently while the deputy radioed in for backup that would include the state police. He needed to find Shay. To do that, he needed to capture her assailant. Or did he?

He glanced around, taking in details of everything within view. He was pretty sure Shay was out here somewhere in the dark alone, afraid, maybe hurt. He didn’t let his mind speculate on what could have happened to her before she got away from her attacker. He could only handle ideas with actions attached at the moment. For instance, he could let the deputy keep the fugitive pinned until help came while he went to look for Shay.

He shoved that thought aside. Her attacker was inside, armed and willing to use that weapon on anyone who got in his way. No way he could leave here knowing that someone might die if he did. It wasn’t so much a hard choice as no choice. Shay was tough. She’d gotten away. He had to believe that. After he took down her assailant, he’d find her. She had to know he would do that. Whatever stupid argument was between them, she would remember that he had promised to come to her. The reasons why didn’t change that promise.

He turned to the deputy. “Tell me about the layout.”

As the deputy talked, James watched the building, measuring out his and Bogart’s plan of attack. It was a simple building with one large room, and a smaller storage room and unisex restroom. Unless the suspect was stupid he wouldn’t blockade himself in a room without an escape. More than likely he was hunkered down behind a counter or display case in the main space, or trying to get out the back door.

When he was done, James moved to the back of his vehicle where he opened the trunk.

“What you got there?”

“Night-vision goggles, infrared scanner, and a vest for my dog.”

“That’s some nice equipment.”

“It’ll do the job.”

He indicated a rifle case to the deputy. “Need anything?”

Deputy Ward just smiled and backed up toward his own car. He opened his truck and pulled out a rifle. “Pretty, ain’t she?”

James eyed the weapon, thinking of Shay. “I’d like to take him alive.”

The deputy shrugged. “That will be his option.”

“Bogart and I get to work the scene first. Agreed?”

“Sure. Never got to see a K-9 team in action before. However, you flush him this way, he’s mine.”

James nodded. “I’ll check the rear.” He and Bogart had a job to do.

He harnessed his partner into a bulletproof vest. It wouldn’t protect much. If the suspect aimed for the mouthful of sharp teeth, Bogart would go down. But Bogart associated armor with man work and gunfire exposure. Their prey was armed. It was their job to scare the man into surrender rather than fight.