Lillian Duncan - Until Death Do Us Part (3 page)

CHAPTER 6

Dylan’s blood pressure spiked as his gaze landed on the vehicles in the garage.

All the tires
on Billy Clyde’s van and SUV had been flattened. Step by step he searched the garage, looking in and under the vehicles. Empty. He crept to the door leading inside the house.

He tried the knob.
Not locked
. His senses moved up to red alert. Putting an ear to the door, he listened. No sounds. He inched the door open and waited.

Silence
. No booming voice. No tinkle of Theresa’s laugh.

His peeked inside.

The kitchen was a disaster.

The stools to the kitchen island were tipped over. Seve
ral glasses had been knocked off the kitchen island onto the floor, probably during a struggle, and shards of glass were strewn all over.

With gun in shooting position, h
e crouched low and stepped over the threshold.

Red was smeare
d on the kitchen floor amid the broken glass. His mind flashed back to the broken jars of canned tomatoes from the morning. It seemed a long time ago.

He bent down to inspect the mess. His finger touched the floor.
Sticky.

N
ot tomatoes this time—blood.

He put his finger on the trigger and
moved through the kitchen and into the living room. Nobody. The only sound was the distant barking of the dogs. Were there people out back? He glanced through sliding door in the dining room that led out to the patio.

He moved closer
watching for movement outside.

Nothing.

He stepped into the living room. Neat and clean as usual. His gaze strayed back to the mess in the kitchen. Dylan whispered to himself. “What happened in here?”

“About time you got
here, Monroe.” Billy Clyde’s voice boomed.

Dylan jerked and then covered his startle
d reaction with a sheepish grin. Where was his voice coming from? “Everything ok?”

“What do you think?”
The voice boomed again.

“Where are you?”

“In the bathroom.”

Dyl
an rushed down the hall, but it was locked. “Can you unlock it?”

“Don’t you
think I would have if I could have?” Dylan heard the fury behind in his friend’s voice. “Kick it in.”

Using a shoulder, he rammed the door. Pain shot through his shoulder
. He was getting too old for this stuff. “You just had to use solid wood doors.”

“Only the best for me.”

Dylan slammed against the door once again, with the same results.

“Come on, Monroe. You can do better than that.”

On the third try, the crack of wood splintering brought a grim smile of satisfaction to Dylan’s face, but not for long. His friend sat in a puddle of blood. Hands and feet bound. Duct tape still clung to his chin, but Billy Clyde had managed to get it off his mouth somehow.              

“Get over here
, Monroe, and get me loose.”

Dylan
knelt beside him and reached behind the big man’s back to untie the cords binding his hand.

“
Forget about untying them, just cut’em.”

Dylan
pulled out his pocket knife, and in one quick upward slice freed Billy Clyde’s hands from the electrical cord. “Where’s the blood coming from?”

Billy Clyde’s tormented voice announced,
“Theresa’s been kidnapped.”

Th
e shock of his words stopped Dylan for a moment, and then he focused back on his friend. “What’s the blood from?”

“Didn’t you hear me? Theresa’s been kidnapped.”

“I heard you but I need to know about the blood.”

Billy Clyde pointed at his shoulder.
”They shot me.”

Of course
they shot him. It was the only way anyone could have hogtied the big man or kidnapped his wife. “How bad is it?”

“
It’s bad. Didn’t you hear me say they kidnapped Theresa?”

“I was asking about the gunshot wound.”

“I lost some blood but I’m not going to die. Did you hear what I said? Theresa’s been kidnapped.”

“I heard you
, but I can only focus on one crisis at a time and your gunshot wound gets priority.” Dylan helped Billy Clyde take off his shirt and inspected the wound. It looked to be a through and through and the bleeding had stopped.

He
moved to the medicine chest. After he picked up a bottle of rubbing alcohol, gauze, and surgical tape, he knelt back down. He handed some gauze to Billy Clyde. “Press down. Ok, tell me what happened?”

“Don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” Billy’s voice was
as quiet as the eye of a hurricane. And just as deadly.

“I’ll call for an ambulance.”
Dylan stood and slid his phone from his pocket.

“No
.” Billy Clyde’s voice was firm.

“You’ve been
shot. If I don’t get you to the doctor, Theresa will have my hide. You have to get—”

“Can’t do it, Monroe. If I go to the hospita
l or a doctor they’re obligated to report my gunshot wound to the police. If the police get involved, it could make a bad situation worse—for Theresa. You’re going to have to treat me yourself.”

“I’m not a medic.”

“I’ll walk you through it.”

“You’re not a medic either.”

He shrugged. “I read about it.”

His friend, the genius. There wasn’t much Billy Clyde couldn’t do after reading about it.
Dylan nodded, He knelt beside his friend and inspected the wound. “I won’t perform surgery on you, no matter what you say. Let’s clean it up and see what we got.”

“
If the bullet damaged something vital, I’d already be dead. Clean it up. Try not to make it start bleeding again.”

Billy Clyde
winced as Dylan poured alcohol on the wound.

As gently as he could
he wiped off the blood. “Hold still, partner.” Dylan picked up the roll of gauze and tape sitting beside Billy on the floor and held it against his wound for a minute. Moving it away, a light red circle showed the bleeding had all but stopped.

Dylan
replaced the used gauze with a fresh patch and then circled his massive brown arm with the white tape. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I
all ready told you. No hospitals.”

“You’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“I’m fine.” Billy pulled himself up to a standing position using the tub as a makeshift crutch. He swayed ever so slightly as he straightened. “See, I’m hunky-dory. We’ve got things to do.”

“Well, I thin
k—”

“Not happening.”

No point in arguing, Billy Clyde’s mind was made up. Dylan nodded and took hold of his arm and guided him out of the bathroom and to the living room. His friend collapsed on the sofa, his brown face pale from the effort.

“What happened
?”

“They
took Theresa.” Billy Clyde’s voice was ragged with emotion.

“Who
is they?” Dylan sat down beside his friend.

“I have no idea.”
Billy Clyde put his head in his massive hands. He looked up at Dylan. “I’ll tell you everything in a minute, but first, let’s pray for Theresa. I gotta bad feeling, Monroe. A bad feeling.”

CHAPTER 7

Theresa
’s rise back to consciousness came much the way an old instamatic camera worked. Started out black and then became faded and unrecognizable, but with each passing second her mind became clearer, more focused.

Car accident. The men. E
ther.

Panic bubbled up inside. She struggled to sit up but couldn’t. H
er hands and feet were tied and something covered her eyes. She couldn’t see a thing. Forcing her breathing to remain calm, she didn’t want to alert her captors to the fact she was awake.

If they were even around.

It was so quiet.

It didn
’t sound as if anyone was nearby. No talking, no breathing, no sounds at all greeted her ears. Was she alone? Or were
they
standing above her staring down at her? She shuddered at the thought. If the
y
were, they must be quiet breathers.

God,
I trust you and I know you are in control of all things.

Her lip quivered but she managed to regain control.
She’d lived with Billy long enough to know emotions in a situation like this could get you killed. She wasn’t as tough as her ex-Marine husband, but she’d learned a thing or two from him over the years.

First things first.

Figure out where she was and then how to escape.

It seemed she was
on a hard object or maybe the floor. No sensory input. No sound. No light. Maybe, it was one of those deprivation tanks. She inhaled. Dirt and dampness.

Was she in the woods? She didn’t think so.
She sniffed. Musty and mildew. Chilly and damp. Maybe a cave or a basement?

Her head throbbed from t
he ether.

Billy
would find her. No question about that. The question was why had they kidnapped her in the first place? She didn’t have any enemies.

Her breath caught.

It was true she didn’t have enemies, but Billy had his fair share. Is that why they kidnapped her? To get revenge on Billy? Or was it about money? Thanks to Billy and his software company, they had more than they needed.

Moving her
tied-up feet and hands, she felt around her prison. She rolled on her side and found the side of her prison. She rolled to the other side. Not very big. Maybe four feet wide at the most and six feet long.

It almost felt like a…coffin.

CHAPTER 8

Dylan walked into the living room, holding four bottles of water. He set three of them in front of Billy Clyde on the coffee table and kept one for himself. “Drink. The water will help with the blood loss.”

Billy opened his eyes, picked up a bottle
, unscrewed the lid, and drained the contents. He picked up another and did the same. He picked up the third but didn’t open it. Instead, he rolled it around in his hand as if it were a ball.

He
took a deep breath and said, “Ok, I’m ready to talk.”

Dy
lan sat down in a chair opposite the big man who looked ready to crumble. “Take your time.”

“This morning
Theresa went into town to volunteer at the school for a few hours, like she always does on Tuesday. Kissed me good-by and left. I went down to my office to catch up on some work and lost track of time.”

“Big surprise there, huh?”

Billy Clyde nodded and squeezed his eyes shut. Dylan could see he was forcing the emotion away like a good Marine. In battle, they learned to stay focused on the moment or die.

And there was no mistaking the fact
this was a battle.

A battle Dylan
was determined to win.

Billy Clyde had saved his life both literally and
figuratively. Dylan would do what he had to do to bring Theresa back home—to her husband.

“
And the next thing I knew, I heard a noise up here and figured it was Theresa. I came up to say hi, but when I got to the kitchen two men stood there with a masks on.”

Dylan shook
his head knowing how his friend reacted to that.

“
It shocked me for a minute, but I went into warrior mode. Without thinking I charged towards him, and that’s when he shot me.” Anger danced across his face. “Dropped me like a fifty pound sack of potatoes.”

“
Bullets tend to do that, even to you.”

“
Then, we had a little discussion, he told me he had Theresa and that I should calm down if I wanted to see her again.” His voice broke as he said the last words.

“I take it,
you calmed down.” Dylan said.

“That’s when I told him
I’d hung up on you when I heard the noise and that you’d be pestering the police to come check on us. Told him you worried about us living out here so isolated from everyone else.”

“Good thinking.”
Dylan unscrewed the lid on his water bottle.

“He
let me call, but I didn’t have much time to think what to say. I prayed you’d get the message.”

“Loud an
d clear, buddy. So, did they let you talk with Theresa?” Dylan tipped the bottle up and took a long gulp.

Pain
passed over Billy Clyde’s face as he shook his head. Dylan wasn’t sure if it was physical or emotional. Probably both. “Did they say what they wanted?”

“Just told me to wait for further instructions. When I asked to talk with her, th
ings got ugly again. The other guy acted like he was going to put a bandage on this…” He pointed at his wounded arm. “But he chloroformed me instead. Or maybe it was ether. Anyway, I woke up in the bathroom, taped and tied.”

This
was bad—very bad. Theresa was a little bit of a thing and wouldn’t be able to fight them off. “And you have no idea what they want?”

“Not a clue.”

“Any idea how they bypassed your security system? I thought this place was locked up tighter than Fort Knox.”

“I’m thinking they probably used
the remote control from Theresa’s car. That would be the easiest way.”

“Sounds
about right.” Dylan stood and stretched his cramped muscles. “Maybe, it’s a kidnap for ransom. Did they mention money?”

“I don’t think it’s about money, Monroe.”

“Why not? You’ve got a lot of it.” He finished off his bottle and pointed at the last bottle. He tipped his up to urge his friend to drink.

“Because if it was about a ransom, why would they come here? It makes no sense to take that kind of risk.
” Billy Clyde picked up the water but that was as far as it went.

Dylan shrugged.
“Maybe they’re just stupid.”

“
I don’t think so. They managed to get the drop on me, didn’t they?” Billy Clyde shook his head. “They want something from me, and it’s not money.”

Dylan met his friend’s gaze
. He didn’t want to think of the possibilities of what that could mean. “Maybe not. They left you tied up in the bathroom, they knew you couldn’t do whatever it is they want you to do.”

Billy
Clyde nodded. “Or maybe they decided I was too much trouble to deal with. And decided to go with Plan B. Forget Plan A, let me bleed to death in the bathroom, and then kill Theresa.” His voice broke on the last words. “My fighting back might have gotten her killed.”

He had a point
, but Dylan wouldn’t tell him that. “I doubt if they’d give up that easy. There was some planning involved in this. That means they know you enough to know you’d fight back. By the way, the tires on your car and van are flat. Guess they didn’t want you following them in case you won the fight.”

“As if I could.”

“They knew you’d get free sooner or later.”

“Way too late for that
now. Speaking of which, what time is it?”

Dylan looked at his watch. “It’s almost two
o’clock.”

“How’d you get here so fast?”

“I had a friend fly me to Cumberland and rented a boat.” Dylan snapped his fingers. “And here I am.”

Dylan looked at his friend. Billy Clyde was a powerful man
, both physically and mentally, but he looked like a broken man at the moment. He took pride in being able to take care of any problem for anybody.

Dylan knew the former Marine in Billy Clyde was berating himself for allowing his wife to be kidnapped.
“This isn’t your fault. You can’t keep the ones you love prisoners, you know that as well as I do.”

Billy Clyde’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Dylan. “You say that now, but you were ready to do the same thing last year when it was Reggie that was in danger.
And she wasn’t even your wife then.”

Dylan nodded. Couldn’t argue with the big man about that.

“Speaking of Reggie, how is it you were able to come down here without her? It doesn’t sound like her. I would have thought she would have insisted on coming.”

“
I didn’t exactly tell her. I told her I had a problem, and she should take a mini-vacation for a few days. She didn’t look happy about it, but she didn’t argue.”

Billy Clyde’
s eyes grew wide and in spite of the circumstances, he managed a small chuckle. “Oh, man. I would hate to be you when she finds out.”

“It’ll be fine. Reggie is nothing if not reasonable.”

“If you say so.” Billy Clyde stood. “Theresa’s car has Track-Time. They should be able to tell me where her car is.”

“Great
. It might give us a place to start looking for her.”

A
phone rang. They looked at each other.

“Not mine.”

“Or mine.” Billy Clyde chimed in.

“It’s c
oming from the bathroom.” Dylan ran. His eyes scanned the bathroom. There it was. On the sink. He picked up the phone and ran back in the living room and tossed it to Billy.

He
caught the phone and opened it in one efficient move. “Hello.” Hit the speaker button after putting a finger to his lip.

“Given enough time, I thought you’d be resourceful enough to get yourself untied.”

“Oh, I’m plenty resourceful.”

“So, I hear.
”

“Where’s my wife?”

“Don’t worry about your pretty little wife right now. She’s fine and she’ll stay that way as long as you cooperate with us.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Then, that will be a problem.”

T
he coldness in the man’s voice chilled Dylan.

“What do you want?”
Billy’s dark eyes flashed with anger.

“All in good time. I was
mostly calling to see if you’d bled to death or managed to free yourself.”

“I want to talk with Theresa.”

“Not this time, maybe later.”

“I said—”

“I don’t care what you said. I’m the one in control, Addams, and it would do you well to remember that. Or maybe you don’t care about her as much as you pretend. Understand?”

Billy gritted his teeth
and then answered. “I understand.”

“Good, then. Here’s what you need to know for the moment. Do not call the police, the FBI, or anyone else
you think could help. You sit there and do nothing. Next time, I call I’ll have some instructions for you. Play nice, Addams or you’ll be attending your wife’s funeral.”

“When will…” Billy’s voice trailed off. The man had hung up. Billy hit buttons on the phone and shook his head. “No call back number. His phone must be encrypted.”

“Must be. What are we going to do, Billy Clyde?”

“Get my wife back.”