Love Inspired Suspense July 2015 #2 (46 page)

She dropped to her stomach and crawled across the floor toward the open kitchen doorway. Surely Sarah must be awake now, even if the noise probably hadn't carried all the way to Daniel in the garage. But she hadn't seen another person in the kitchen.

Where were the other two men? Had she been wrong to run into the house to try to warn Sarah?

Help me, Lord. I don't know how I'm going to make it out of here alive.

The flashlight beam hit the floor and hovered there. The gunman seemed to have clipped it to his belt. Another bullet landed in the dirt ahead of her. He chuckled and strode down the maze of boards until he hit the start of the final plank, a few feet above her head.

“Give it up, lady!” Another gun blast. Another laugh. “You're trapped. There's no way you're making it out of here alive. I'm just going to keep on shooting and shooting until you're either bleeding or dead.”

Well, that might be his plan. But his feet would be wet and slippery from the rain, and the board underneath him was unsteady. She crouched up onto the balls of her feet. Her fingertips pressed into the dirt like a runner. He fired off another bullet. She sprinted underneath the boards.

Her head was low. Her chin was tucked into her chest. She ducked underneath the board he was standing on and ran right underneath his feet.
I'll never complain about being short again
.
She could hear him fumbling with his weapon. But it was too late.

Olivia leaped. She pushed up, throwing all her strength into dislodging the board above her head. Her arms ached under his weight.

The board toppled.

The Brute fell.

She hit the doorway and leaped up the wall. Her feet scrambled for grip in the stones as she hauled herself into the kitchen.

“What's happening?” Sarah stood in the bedroom doorway, fully clothed with boots on her feet.

Olivia slammed the living room door behind her. No lock. She shoved a kitchen chair under the handle. “Three men. Look like the ones who killed Brian. At least one has a gun.”

Sarah turned and ran back into the bedroom.

“Wait!” Olivia started after her. “We've got to get out of here!”

“That's what I'm doing.” Sarah pulled on her raincoat and yanked the window open. Rain whipped in. Thick tree branches brushed inches from the frame. She started to climb through. “You coming, too?”

Olivia shook her head. “I need to warn Daniel.”

Sarah paused, sitting with one leg on either side of the window frame. “Okay, tell him that I'm going to run through the woods until I reach the main highway. There's a motel with campgrounds. The one with the creepy clown sign. I'll meet him there.”

“That's miles away.” And where some of Leslie's crew was headed.

“Yeah, but their office is open all night long, they have a phone and will let me call the police. I know how to get there and it's safer than hiding in the woods waiting for you. Trust me, I used to sneak out there all the time to goof off in their freaky broken fairgrounds.” She hopped out the window. “Daniel will totally know where to find me.”

She disappeared in the woods without looking back.

Olivia turned and ran through the kitchen toward the back door. Sounded as though the trigger-happy Brute was still trying to make his way out of the living room.

Thank You, Lord, that they didn't get Sarah. Please help me reach Daniel—

The kitchen door flew open before she could even touch her hand to the handle. A tall and unnaturally thin faceless thug leveled the barrel of a gun toward her face.

“Enough games,” he said. “You're coming with me.”

TEN

I
t was the rattle of the garage door that first jolted Daniel awake. But it wasn't until his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he saw the outline of a short masked man silhouetted in the faint light that he realized the danger. Daniel silently crept to the edge of the ledge of the loft. He'd been sleeping in the storage area over his workbench, fully clothed, just in case Hawk and his buddies decided to come back.

But this was a threat he hadn't anticipated. This man was a stranger. He was short but hefty, and dressed in dark fatigues and a faceless mask like the men who'd killed Brian in the parking garage. But then he pulled his mask off and stuffed it in a duffel bag. Either he didn't think there'd be anyone in the garage to spot his face or he wasn't planning on leaving any witnesses alive.

Daniel still didn't recognize him.

He couldn't see a weapon in his hand, either, but that didn't mean he wasn't carrying one. For a moment, Daniel almost wished he'd gone into the house and pulled his shotgun from its hiding place. But a hunting firearm like that was hardly intended for close combat. The man switched on a flashlight. Daniel ducked behind a storage box. The light swung around the room. Over his workbench. Over his truck. Over the battered chair, reading table and camping stove. Up over Daniel's hiding spot in the loft. Then back down again.

Are there more of them? Have they gone into the house?
Olivia's computer printout had said the Faceless Crew were a team of three. If so, that would make this small man Shorty, the so-called explosives expert. Getting past this man and rushing into the house would mean giving up the element of surprise, throwing himself into a fight and potentially alerting whoever else was with him.

Lord, help me be wise. Please protect Sarah and Olivia. Keep them safe until I can get to them. Help me know the right way and time to act.

Daniel pressed his fingers against the box directly in front of him. If only he'd come closer, then there were at least half a dozen ways Daniel could think to almost silently take him to the ground without alerting any buddies he might have waiting outside. Shorty set the flashlight down on the ground and pulled something the size of brick from his duffel bag.

A second figure appeared in the doorway. Daniel felt his heart smack so hard against his rib cage he nearly lost his breath.

It was Olivia. She was followed by a thin masked man who could only be described as a “Rake.” The masked thug had his hand clamped around Olivia's throat. His other hand pressed a gun to the back of her head.

Daniel's heart lurched with every step she took.

Olivia's hands were tied in front of her. Rainwater streamed down her tiny frame.

Daniel braced his hands on the loft floor and fought the urge to leap. Everything inside him wanted to attack the man gripping her and to fight for her life with every last breath in his body. But if he made a move, the gunman might pull the trigger ending Olivia's life. And he still didn't know if there were more of them or where Sarah was.

His eyes closed for fraction of a second, just long enough to pray.

Oh, God, I have to save her. Help me focus.

The gunman shuffled her across the floor toward the truck. Olivia's eyes didn't even glance toward his hiding spot. But surely she had to know he was there. She had to know he wouldn't just have run off and left her.

Shorty stood up from behind the truck and quickly yanked his mask back on.

“We good?” Rake asked.

“Yup.” He wiped his hands on his pants and walked over to the workbench.

Yup. Right this way. Just a little closer...

“What do the three of you want?” Olivia's voice rang loud and clear. “You two, plus that trigger-happy Brute who you left all alone in the house, now trying to figure his way out of the living room.”

Oh, she was brilliant! Olivia knew he was there, all right! And in two sentences had managed to give him all the information he needed to assess the situation.

A crew of three faceless thugs. None of whom, it seemed, had Sarah.

“None of your business. Now shut it or I'll gag you.” Rake cuffed her in the back of the head with the gun. Olivia cried out in pain. He opened the passenger door to Daniel's truck. “Get in.”

She stepped up onto the running board.

Okay, so his hand is off her throat. The gun will probably slip away from her head for a second or two. Shorty has walked into range. Looks as though this is the best chance I'm going to get. I just need to wait and pick my moment—

Olivia kicked back hard, catching Rake sharply in the gut.

Or she could pick the moment.

Rake collapsed onto the ground and gasped for breath. His gun clattered across the floor. Daniel leaped. He landed on Shorty's shoulders and forced him to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a flash of red as Olivia scrambled for Rake's gun.

Daniel leaped to his feet. Shorty's fist caught Daniel in the side of the head. Daniel kicked his legs out from under him.

A gunshot pierced the air.

Olivia screamed. Daniel's heart stopped.

Brute was standing in the garage doorway. His gun was aimed at her face. “Kneel.” Olivia knelt. He glanced at the thin man. “Hey, Rake? You mind if I end her now?”

“Hey!” Daniel's hands shot up in the air. “Don't hurt her. Let her go. Whatever you want, you can get from me!”

Shorty laughed.

A swift, hard blow struck Daniel on the back of the head.

The world went black.

ELEVEN

“D
aniel! Daniel! Wake up!”

Somewhere in the darkness of Daniel's barely conscious brain, he could hear Olivia shouting like a distant echo coming from the bottom of a tunnel.

“Dear God, please, please help me wake him up! I can't do this alone...”

He heard her praying. But his head ached and he couldn't get his eyes to open. Something was pressing into his forehead. He needed to wake up.

Unconsciousness swept over his mind.

He was passing out again.

A sharp, sudden pain pierced his shoulder.

He jerked awake.

Daniel was half sitting, half lying in the front seat of his truck. They were still in his garage. His wrists were fastened to the steering wheel by plastic zip ties. Long wet hair brushed against his neck. “Ouch! Did you just pinch my shoulder?”

“You're awake!” Olivia kissed his cheek and then she sat back against the passenger seat. Her hands were bound together in front of her. “There's—” Fresh tears choked the words from her lips.

“It's okay. We're in this together. It's going to be okay.” Instinctively he found himself wanting to reassure her, even as his mind spun to evaluate the danger he'd just woken up in.

His head ached and he could barely move his hands. But they were still alive, not too badly hurt and still together. “Where are they?”

“Heading down the driveway. Haven't heard them drive off yet.”

“Where's Sarah?”

“She managed to escape into the woods. She said she'd meet you at the motel on the highway.”

Thank You, God.

“That's a relief. Are you able to get the glove compartment open? I stashed a really good, sharp knife in there before I went to bed. Should be able to cut through these ties.”

Her eyes darted to the glove compartment. “I'm pretty sure there's a bomb in here with us somewhere. Rake asked Shorty how long they had before the truck exploded. I was afraid to touch anything or try to open the door in case that's what set it off.”

Just like that, the bit of relief he'd felt turned to a cold and focused fear. “How long ago did they leave?”

“Couple minutes. Not long. All I know is it's a bigger bomb than the one that took out Brian's car, so this time they went for a timer instead of a remote, because Shorty was worried about getting far enough away.”

“You keep using the same code names as the Faceless Crew website. Why?”

“That's what they kept calling each other.”

“Okay. Well, if you didn't hear them pelt down the driveway and peel out of here, then we probably have a few minutes.” But probably not much more than that. “I watched Shorty mess with the back of the truck. Pretty sure he didn't go anywhere near the cab.”

She opened the glove compartment and pulled out a retractable utility knife. She slid the blade out with her fingertips.

Daniel pulled his hands as far away from the steering wheel as he could. There was less than an inch of cutting space between the cuffs and his skin. “You want me to talk you through it?”

“No. Just keep quiet and don't move.”

Her hands brushed his. The knife slid past his wrists. She cut him free. A vehicle engine roared in the night air. He took the knife, grabbed Olivia's fingers and set her wrists loose. “Come on.”

They leaped from the truck and slid through the gap under the garage door out into the rain. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the trees. They ran through the woods, stumbling over underbrush, pushing through the branches. “Thank You, God, that we—”

An explosion shook the air. Heat surged toward them. Smoke billowed through the trees behind them. Red-and-orange flames flickered in the sky. The smell of burning wood filled his lungs. A cry escaped Olivia's lips. Pain filled her eyes.

“It's just a building.” His hand tightened in hers. “Come on. We've got to keep running.”

She squeezed back. They ran for as long as their bodies could take it. Rain blurred their vision. His lungs ached. But it wasn't until he heard Olivia panting for breath that he slowed his pace to walking. “You said Sarah's heading to the clown motel?”

She gasped in a long breath. It sounded painful. “Yeah. She said she'd call the police from there. I know that's where the Leslie crew was planning to party, but she said it was the safest place to go.”

“Maybe she's right. At least she got away.” He'd have preferred she'd stayed close by and waited to run with them. But there was nothing to be done about it now. “She always loved that place. I don't know what it is with teenagers and wanting to sneak into broken fairgrounds.”

The rain grew heavier. Lightning split the sky. He glanced at Olivia. She was soaked, her clothes were streaked with dirt and he could feel her shivering through their joined hands. Yet somehow she was still holding her head high. He'd never seen someone look so fragile and yet so strong at the same time. He wished he had something to offer her other than the thin, soaked T-shirt on his back. Olivia pulled out her cell phone, cupped it under her arm and checked for a signal. It was only then he realized they were still holding hands.

“Got a signal?”

“No.” She slid her phone back into her pocket. “And my phone's not waterproof, so I want to keep it in my pocket.”

“I've still got my wallet on me.” Plus the knife from the glove compartment. “You?”

She nodded. “My wallet. My notepad and the photo memory card.”

Well, that was something. But for now they were alone. In the woods. With not much more than the clothes on their backs. And each other.

And You, Lord. Thank You for helping us get out of there alive.

They kept walking. He told Olivia that he'd seen Shorty's face, but hadn't recognized him as anyone from either the Leslie Construction crew or the trial. Olivia told him about Brute chasing her through the living room. He nearly whistled. Her bravery was astounding.

“After you were knocked out, I went limp,” she said. “Figured it was best to save my strength, at least as long as they were keeping us together. They thought I'd fainted and started talking a bit more freely then. From what I was able to piece together, they were hired by someone who didn't just want Brian dead, but wanted to make an impressive, showy statement of killing him. Which isn't that far off what we suspected already. Shorty was worried ‘the client' was going to be angry that the explosion might not be big enough to demolish the house, too, because the rain would keep the fire from spreading, and apparently the client wanted both your vehicle and house destroyed—”

“What?” His voice rose sharply. “The client wanted them to demolish my house? Why?”

Whoever had hired the Faceless Crew hated the Leslies so much they actually wanted to blow up the house he was restoring?

“I don't know. But I do know that using bombs and explosives matters to them. Rake yelled at Brute for shooting his gun off at me, because no one would take them seriously as a gang if they didn't stick to the pattern of people dying in explosions, and that's why the client had hired them. He added it didn't matter if they hated him or not, because the client was on the fast track to heading up something big. I don't know what that means.”

“Neither do I.” But he didn't like the sound of it. “In my experience, bombs are an intimidation tactic used by people who want to prove they're scary. Making a big, flashy show of it like that just makes your job harder.” And destroying a whole house was definitely an escalation over a simple car bomb.

“Rake was plenty mad at both of them.” She smacked a branch out of her face. “He said the client might even make them go back and blow up your house. Sorry.”

“It's okay.” The forest floor grew wetter until they were trudging through water up to their ankles. Now the rain was beating so hard he could barely see. More lightning, this time forked and dangerous. He slid his arm around her shoulder and shifted course. “Weather's getting worse. We're not safe out here. I think we should take shelter until there's a break in the storm, or at least until the lightning stops. There's a tiny ghost town north of us. Just a handful of empty buildings and two stop signs. But there should still be something there with a roof.”

Thunder rumbled above them. Another flash of lightning.

They started running.