Love Inspired Suspense May 2015 #2 (58 page)

Read Love Inspired Suspense May 2015 #2 Online

Authors: Susan Sleeman,Debra Cowan,Mary Ellen Porter

Tags: #Love Inspired Suspense

BOOK: Love Inspired Suspense May 2015 #2
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“Heel,” she said softly. They made their way slowly through the trees in the direction of the voices. The edge of the tree line was heavy with thick brush that made silence difficult. Jax moved through it easily, but Laney's clothing and hair caught on branches that snapped as she pulled away. Hidden within the tree line, she could just make out the outline of a very small, old outbuilding. Perhaps a one-room hunting cabin or large shed. If there were windows, she couldn't see them on the wall that faced her. No door, either, so she had to be looking at the back or side of the structure.

She crouched at the very edge of the trees, Jax beside her, his body tense with excitement. She scanned the clearing beyond the trees and spotted the source of the noise. Two men stood to the right of the structure, talking quietly. From her vantage point she could make out that the shorter of the two had a bald head. The other, bigger man was partially concealed by the building.

Headlights splashed light across a gravel drive choked with weeds. An uncomfortably familiar-looking dark panel van rolled toward the building, the driver guiding it into a position about a foot from the structure. He hopped out, then hurried to join the other men. Were they about to move the children? She would need to get closer if she hoped to learn anything. Both men disappeared around the corner of the structure.

She reached down and hoisted Jax into her arms, then took one slow, deliberate step at a time toward the edge of the tree line. She made it to a spot that was catercorner to the sliding panel door of the van. Setting Jax back on the grass, she gave him the hand motions for “down-stay” and crept toward the front of the structure.

She smelled cigarette smoke before she saw the third man. Seated in a folding camp chair, his back to her, he held the cigarette, its butt glowing orange in the darkness. Behind him, an open door revealed the black interior of the structure. Was someone in there?

“Hey!” the man called out, and she jumped, sure she'd been seen. “Hurry it up with those kids! We don't got all night to move them.”

“They're not cooperating, so how about you get yourself in here and do something to help?” a muffled voice called from inside the structure. One of the three men she'd already seen? Or a fourth person?

“Do I gotta to do everything?” the man with the cigarette called back. He took a deep drag on the cigarette, tossed it onto the ground and crushed it under his foot. “You tell those brats I'm coming in. One more complaint from them and I'll set this whole place on fire with them in it.”

“You don't do squat!” A man appeared in the doorway, and she recognized him immediately. The man who'd grabbed Olivia.

Silently pressing herself to the shadows of the building, she held her breath, praying that she wouldn't be seen.

“I do plenty. But if I got to help you load the brats, I'll help. Ship departs Baltimore at 6:00 a.m. We don't got a lot of time,” the man said.

At that moment, the third man came out of the outbuilding, spouting a string of obscenities. He was bald, older than the other two, and smaller, but somehow more threatening.

“How about you two stop chatting and get back to work? In two hours, you can take your money and go your separate ways. For now, you'd better stick to the plan. Get in there and search the hold room for any evidence they may have left behind. We leave in ten. Either of you girls wants to slack off now, I can arrange for you not to leave at all.”

The three entered the structure. The door slammed shut behind them.

Rushing to the tree line where Jax patiently waited, Laney pulled her cell phone out and powered it up. She had less than ten minutes to figure out how to stall the men. If they left, she'd have no way to follow them. She'd parked Aunt Rose's car a good twenty-minute trek back through the woods.

She could call 911 or she could call Grayson. She made the decision quickly, dialing the number and waiting as the phone rang twice.

“Laney! Where are you?” Grayson voice boomed through the phone.

“I'm at Ethan Conrad's property, and the kids are here.”

“You've seen them?”

“No, but I saw Olivia's kidnapper and the van with the dented front end. The kidnappers are moving the kids to the Port of Baltimore. They'll be shipped out from there.”

“When?”

“All I heard is that the ship leaves at six. I'm not sure what time they'll be loading the kids, but they're planning to leave here in ten minutes.”

“I'm on my way. So is Andrews. I need you to get back to the woods and stay out of sight.”

“Grayson, if I do that, the kids will be gone before you get here.”

“And we'll have people at the Port of Baltimore waiting for them.”

“The Port of Baltimore is huge. You'll never find them.”

“Don't argue, Laney!” he growled. “You've given me the probable cause I need. Now step aside and let us handle things.”

“I'll...stay safe,” she said. “I've got to go. They'll be out with the kids any minute.”

Laney disconnected and turned off the phone before shrugging out of her day pack.

Reaching into the front pocket, she pulled out a plastic Ziploc bag containing her NASAR-required first-aid kit. It included three extra-large safety pins. Fishing them out, she returned the rest of kit to her day pack. If she could wedge a safety pin or two firmly into a tire's valve stem, the air would be released slowly, possibly causing a flat tire before the men reached the port. She knew she had only minutes to make this work.

Ducking behind the front passenger tire, she quickly unscrewed the tire's valve cover. Then, using the tip of the safety pin to push down the valve core, she wedged in the pin to keep it from popping up. It held, but felt loose, so she shoved in the second pin. Better, but it would likely not hold when the tire began rotating at sixty-five miles an hour. Grabbing her last safety pin from her pocket, she opened it and forced it between the first two pins.

Solid. Holding her finger over the air valve, she could feel the slight but steady rush of air pushing out. The question was, if it held, how long would it take before the van was inoperable?

The door to the building was flung open. “I'll be at the van. Get those kids ready to move,” someone called out.

Laney was out in plain sight with no choice but to run.

She darted away from the van, aiming for the tree line and Jax.

She didn't make it.

He was on her in an instant, tackling her to the ground so hard, every bit of air was knocked from her lungs.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head up so he could look at her face. “You!” he spat.

“What's going on?” The bald man stepped outside, two children beside him.

“Nothing I can't handle.” The kidnapper pulled out a gun, pressed it to her head.

“Are you nuts? Put that thing away. We kill her here and there will be blood evidence everywhere. That happens and Conrad will put a mark on each of us. We'll be dead by sunrise.”

The kidnapper cursed but hauled Laney to her feet. “I guess you've got a better plan?”

“Sure do. We sell her. Just like we're doing with the kids. We needed five live bodies. Now we've at least got four.”

“Right. Fine. Whatever.” The kidnapper shoved her toward the van with enough force to knock her off her feet.

She went down hard, her palms skidding along gravel, bits of dirt digging into her flesh.

A fast-approaching vehicle barreled down the access road, high beams blinding. Laney could only pray it was the cavalry.

TWENTY

G
rayson assessed the situation as his car barreled toward the old hunting cabin, high beams on in an attempt to blind the suspects.

Two men were loading kids into a van.

Laney was on the ground. He could see her clearly, and for a moment, he thought the worst.

Then she popped up and tried to run toward the trees.

A man grabbed her around the waist and hauled her toward the van. Another man jumped into the driver's seat.

Hitting the brakes, Grayson flung open the driver's door, pulled his service revolver and trained it on the guy who was manhandling Laney. “FBI. Throw your weapons down and put your hands in the air.”

A third man ran out of the building and fired a shot at Grayson.

Laney screamed. Out of the corner of his eye, Grayson saw a brown-and-white ball of fur in a bright orange vest running in. Jax took hold of the kidnapper's pants leg while he struggled to push Laney into the van.

“Do something about this mutt!”

The bald guy turned, taking aim at Jax.

“No!” Laney yelled. “Jax off. Away!”

Jax immediately let go, backing away, the bullet missing him by mere inches as Laney was shoved in the van. The door closed behind her.

The man in the doorway of the building fired another shot. Grayson aimed and pulled the trigger.

The man went down, and the van took off, leaving the fallen kidnapper where he lay.

Grayson couldn't shoot at the van and risk a stray bullet hitting Laney or one of the children.

The perpetrators weren't as worried about that.

One of them leaned out the passenger side window and fired another shot at Grayson as the van barreled past. Grayson dove for cover, but the bullet dug into his shoulder, before he hit the ground. Pulling himself to his feet, he called in his location and the direction the perps were heading.

Blood oozed from the wound, but he didn't feel any pain. Couldn't feel anything but rage and fear.

“Jax, come!” he called.

The dog rushed to his side, looking up at him.

Grayson scooped him into his arms and deposited him on the passenger seat of his car.

His cell phone rang as he sped after the van. He took the call.

“DeMarco. Go ahead.”

“It's Kent. I've got dozens of men heading to Conrad's place. Do you have Laney?”

“They've taken her and the kids to the Port of Baltimore,” Grayson answered. “I'm headed there now.”

“All right. I'll divert my guys there,” Andrews acknowledged. “Do you still need resources at Ethan's property?”

“Send a patrol car and an ambulance. We've got one perp down.” He didn't mention his own wound. It didn't matter. All that mattered was closing in on the van and getting Laney and the kids out of it safely.

“Will do.”

“Can you also send someone out to Conrad's full-time residence? He's in Silver Spring.” Grayson rattled off the address. It was as familiar as his own.

“Consider it done,” Kent confirmed. “Do you have a visual on the van?”

“Not yet, but I'm moving fast.”

“Where do you want us to meet you?”

“The Maryland Port Administration offices on Pratt Street. Someone's going to tell me which ships are leaving Baltimore at 6:00 a.m., and from which docks.”

* * *

Grayson had been driving at a fast pace for about twenty minutes without seeing the van. That worried him. Had Ethan changed the plans? Had he caught wind of what was going on and decided to move the kids somewhere else? Taking Charles Street, Grayson exited to Pratt Street, where he would meet Andrews.

And there it was.

Abandoned on a side street, the panel van had one pancake-flat tire.

Pulling up behind it, he got out and touched the hood of the vehicle. Still warm.

He crouched near the tire. Safety pins had been jammed in the stem.

Laney
. She'd put herself in jeopardy to sabotage the van. A smart move, too, since the Port of Baltimore was one of the largest ports in North America. There was no way the perps could parade around the docks with four hostages in the middle of the night and not draw attention to themselves. They would need another vehicle to get the kids and Laney to the loading dock undetected.

Another vehicle didn't just happen. They'd have to find one.

Which meant that they'd stash the kids and Laney somewhere close by.

He tried the van door and found it unlocked. Laney's cell phone lay on the floor. He left it there and put in another call to Andrews.

He gave the location of the van, his communication quick and to the point.

They didn't have time to waste.

When he finished, he walked back to his vehicle. Jax, still in his bright orange vest, waited there, the equivalent of a homing beacon. “You want to work?” he asked the dog.

He was rewarded by an enthusiastic thump of the tail.

“Good. Me, too.” He lifted the dog out of the vehicle, ignoring the stabbing pain in his shoulder as he set him on the ground, then issued the command as he'd seen Laney do. He pointed to the van. “Jax, place!”

Jax leapt inside and immediately seemed to pick up on Laney's scent, going right to her cell phone with a little whine, then pressing his nose in all the rear seats of the vehicle.

Finally, when it was apparent Laney was not in the van, Jax sat down beside her phone, looking sadly at Grayson.

“Where's Laney?” Grayson asked.

At the sound of her name, Jax cocked his head. His ears perked up.

“Laney?” he repeated. He knew Jax was an air scent dog, not a tracking dog. He could only hope Jax understood what Grayson was asking him to do.

Jax barked and stood, tail wagging, tongue lolling. Grabbing Laney's phone, Grayson put it up to Jax's nose. When he was done sniffing, Grayson dropped the phone in his pocket. “Jax, go find Laney!”

Grayson didn't have to tell him twice. Jax leapt from the van, put his nose to the ground, then to the wind, then back to the ground, and started across the street, heading straight toward a warehouse. Grayson could see the door had recent damage, as if someone had taken a crowbar and pried it open. Testing it, he found it unlocked. He drew his service revolver and stepped into the dark interior.

* * *

It was almost pitch black and a little cool in the storage room where Laney and the kids were waiting.

Laney pressed her ear to the door, trying to hear into the warehouse beyond their prison. She was pretty sure at least one of the bad guys was in the vicinity. The other had gone to find a new vehicle. He hadn't been happy when the tire went flat.

Laney had the bruise on her cheek to prove it.

She couldn't feel the pain of it. All she could feel was the panicked need to escape the room, to get the kids to safety, to make sure that Grayson was okay. She tried the door handle again. Locked. Still.

There had to be a way out. Had to be.

She turned back to the kids, felt something slap against her thigh, felt a moment of hope so pure and real that she nearly shouted with the excitement of it.

Her emergency penlight. She always carried it on searches. She yanked it from her cargo pocket and flashed it across the three huddled kids.

“Don't worry,” she said. “I'm going to find a way out of this.”

She hoped.

She shone the light on the floor and pointed it into the dark corners. Boxes lined the walls and took up most of the floor space. Trails of rat droppings and dust dotted the old tiles. There was only the one door, but maybe there was a vent she could shimmy through, some other way of escaping. She flashed the light onto the ceiling. Old 1970s panels threatened to fall out of the drop ceiling.

Perfect!

Laney knew that if she could get to the top of the wall and push up a tile, all that would separate her from whatever was next door would be more tiles. She thought about dropping straight into the warehouse, but she didn't know where the kidnappers were. Four lives depended on her escaping without notice—including her own. She could climb over the support beam and drop into the next room. Ideally find an unlocked door there and move into the warehouse, where she'd find a way to smuggle the kids out.

She turned the light back in the direction of the kids.

They looked terrified, their faces streaked with grime, tears and, in some cases, a few bruises. Olivia was hugging a girl who looked much smaller and younger than she was. Laney recognized her from the Amber alerts and news stories surrounding her abduction. Eight-year-old Marissa James. The dark haired, slim boy standing beside them was eleven-year-old Adam Presley.

“I need you guys to help me move some of those boxes to the corner,” Laney whispered. “We need to stack them so I can climb up.”

She flashed the light so they could all see the area.

The kids moved quickly and more quietly than Laney expected.

Fear was a powerful motivator.

It didn't take long to create a sturdy platform. “I'm going to climb through,” she whispered. “Once I make it to the other side, I'll unlock the door.”

“Why can't we all climb through?” Adam asked. “If you go and don't come back—”

“I'll come back.”

“But if you don't,” Olivia whispered, “we're stuck.”

“I will either open this door and get you out or come back through the ceiling. Either way, I'm not leaving anyone behind.” She meant it. And she hoped she could follow through.

If something happened, and she was killed...

It was a thought she couldn't dwell on. God was in control. He saw. He knew. She had to believe that He'd act.

Laney said a quick prayer as she hoisted herself to the top of the storage room wall. She removed the drop ceiling tile, carefully handing it down to Adam. Using her penlight, she peered over the wall into an office space. It was empty. Pocketing her light, she started to formulate the best plan for lowering herself down to the next room.

The telltale sound of clicking of paws moving rapidly across the concrete floor grabbed her attention.

Could it be?

Had Grayson and Jax somehow found the warehouse?

And where was the kidnapper with the gun?

Her question was answered when the guy lumbered into the office, closing and locking the door behind him, then quietly peering through the blinds of a window that opened into the warehouse.

Jax was out there. Laney knew it, and she thought Grayson was with him. She hoped he was. She'd overheard one of the kidnappers say he'd shot him. If he was in the warehouse, he'd survived, but he was also a sitting duck. There were windows in the interior office wall that looked out into the warehouse. If Jax and Grayson walked by where the kidnapper could see them... Her blood grew cold at the thought.

She scrambled back down into the storage room.

“New plan,” she whispered to the kids. “The kidnapper is in the room next door. I'm heading into the warehouse. I'll open the door when I get to the other side. When I do, everyone needs to leave single file and quietly. Hug the wall to the right, hold hands and stay together.”

Removing her boots so her drop to the floor would not be heard, she climbed through the open ceiling tile and sat on the top of the wall. It was a good eight-foot drop. She lowered herself until she was hanging by her hands, her socked feet dangling about three feet from the floor. Holding her breath, she prepared to let go.

* * *

Keeping to the edges of the open warehouse, Grayson followed Jax toward a row of offices. Jax looked up.

Grayson followed his gaze and saw a pair of legs dangling from an open panel in the ceiling.

Laney!

He rushed forward, touched her ankle.

She let out a bloodcurdling scream, and the silent warehouse suddenly turned to chaos. Kids screamed from the other side of a closed door. Distant footsteps pounded on old tile.

Grayson yanked hard enough to pull Laney down, catching her as she tumbled into his arms.

“Grayson!” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck. “I thought you were dead.”

“Not yet, but we both might be if we don't get moving.”

“The children!” She broke away and unlocked and opened a door.

Three kids emerged, all of them in various states of hysteria.

An office door opened. The kidnapper rushed toward them, gun in hand.

“Everyone down!” Grayson hollered.

Laney, the children and even Jax hit the floor, leaving the gunman an easy target. Grayson got off his shot first. The man went down. But there had been two men in the van earlier. Where was his accomplice?

Thundering footsteps were getting closer, and Jax growled, sensing danger before any of them could see it.

Grayson scooped up the smallest child in his left arm, wincing as she latched onto his wounded shoulder. There was cover of sorts near the edges of the warehouse, where the shadows were deepest and machinery crowded the floor.

“Come on!” he urged.

Laney grabbed the hands of the other two children and followed Grayson closely.

Somewhere in the distance, a door opened and closed. Feet tapped on concrete. Not one set of footsteps. Several. Grayson was maintaining radio silence, but he'd called the warehouse location in, and he knew the cavalry had arrived. He just had to keep the kids and Laney safe until Andrew's men could take Conrad's remaining thug down.

Hugging the shadows, he led them down a shelf-lined corridor, toward the emergency exit.

Behind them, a commotion ensued—shouts and gunshots as the remaining kidnapper met the cavalry.

Kicking open the emergency exit door, Grayson led them to the alley, where the flashing red and blue lights of the first responders were a welcoming sight.

They were met by police and paramedics, who took the children from their arms and ushered them to the safety of an ambulance.

Laney turned to Grayson, her eyes drawn to the blood dripping down his arm from his wounded shoulder.

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