Never Cry Mercy (21 page)

"One more favor," I said.

"What?" she said.

"Got a car I can take? One that can get through the mud?"

She shook her head. "Linus has the truck. My van won't make it."

"If Linus shows up," I said. "I can trust—"

"He'd have no reason to even think I saw you, so it shouldn't be a problem. I promise not to bring it up."

"What about the boys? They're not used to an armed man entering the house. They might talk."

"Happens more than you think. They'll be in their room the rest of the night. He's not going in to see them. And you know what, they probably trust you right now more than that son of a bitch. I'll tell them you were here to punish him for the way he's acted."

I liked the woman. She was tough. Just needed a helping hand to pull her out of the pit she'd fallen into.

"I'm gonna take care of you when this is all over. Get that debt paid off, get you back on your feet. OK?"

She nodded. "Thank you, I think."

I left through the back door, hopped the fence into the rear neighbor's yard, and cut across two more properties to distance myself another block further. Now I had to find a car suitable for the terrain.

And I knew where to find one.

Chapter 51

Reese sat alone in the moonlit room, counting the seconds in an effort to stay awake. The occasional rustle of cattle was the only sound aside from her breathing.

Darrow and Vernon had left without giving any indication what they planned on doing with her. She knew she wasn't leaving the room alive. There was no reason for them to let her go. She'd known about Darrow for some time. His secrets. The things he was into. Yet he did nothing to her. He knew her secrets as well. And he kept them safe in return for Reese doing the same. She found herself at war over the decision at first. She'd spent her entire adult life fighting criminals. Now she had to pretend to respect one so he wouldn't turn her in to a group of terrorists who would have been more than happy to know her location. They'd kidnap her. Rape her. Torture her. And eventually kill her. The last part she could handle. Bring it on. The rest, no thanks. She could do without ever encountering those bastards. As could most, she presumed.

The stakes had been raised tonight. All along, she believed Vernon was on her side. Knowing the truth about the man changed everything and increased the likelihood she would be dead soon. He had too much to lose by letting her go. At this point, she was bait to draw Jack out of wherever he was hiding.

Did anyone else know she was there? She thought through interactions with people she had believed were working for Darrow. None had ever shown signs that they knew Vernon was on the inside. In fact, they typically clammed up with him around, if they didn't leave outright when he made his presence felt.

A secret of this magnitude could only be carried to the grave.

A solitary tear slipped from her left eye, catching the groove between her nostril and cheek, sliding across her top lip and settling in at the corner of her mouth. She touched it with her tongue and savored the salty flavor in her mouth for several seconds. She licked her lips, trying to generate saliva to wet her dry mouth.

She fought back against additional tears. Why let those assholes know they had gotten to her?

The door banged open. One set of boots hit the floorboards. He paced behind her, remaining out of her peripheral vision. Heavy steps, left to right, back again.

"What?" she yelled after two minutes of silent pacing.

The man came to rest behind her. Thin, bony fingers wrapped around her jaw, pulling her head back and to the right. She looked up into Linus's gaunt face. His deep-set eyes focused on her. A slight smile played on his mouth.

"What the hell do you want?" she said through gritted teeth, straining against his grip.

"Figured since you have a little time left, I'd come and make sure it was good for you."

She filled her mouth with saliva and spat. Half hit him, the rest sprinkled down on her face.

Linus jumped back, wiped his chin off with the back of his hand. "Bitch."

Her chair lurched forward. He kicked it again, sending Reese tipping over. She came down hard on her right elbow and cried out in pain.

"That's what you get," Linus said. He stood over her. His hands were balled into tight fists. He glared down, moonlight reflecting off his eyes. Anger faded as a smile took its place. "You think you can piss me off enough that I'd just leave, huh?"

Reese said nothing. She fought back another scream, one that would have been filled with violence and rage. Pain radiated from her elbow. She couldn't move her arm. Had she broken it? Dislocated it? She couldn't see her arm, and didn't dare try to reposition herself.

Linus reached down, grabbed the chair and righted it. The pain intensified as her arm hung limp.

"I think it's broken," she said.

Linus grabbed her left arm. "This one?"

Reese said nothing.

"No, guess not." He walked around to the front of the chair. Stopped. Placed his thumbs inside his pants waistband. "Open your mouth."

Reese stared up at him. Gritted her teeth tight. Pursed her lips even tighter.

Linus punched her right elbow.

Reese screamed in pain, doubled over. Tears flooded her eyes.

"That'll do it, huh," he said.

"Go to hell," she said. "I'll die before I touch you."

Linus stepped closer. His legs touched the inside of her knees. He pushed outward, spreading her legs a few inches. "It's not that bad."

Reese closed her eyes, rolled her head back, groaned from the pain in her arm. It had intensified and centralized. She glanced up, saw Linus smiling, head back slightly, not looking at her. She took a deep breath and focused on the fire in her elbow, drawing it into her center. Then she whipped her head forward as far and as fast as she could, striking Linus in his crotch.

The high pitched scream that left his mouth was followed by hollow nothingness. He dropped where he stood. Reese battled the pain in her arm and managed to lean forward, teetering on the tips of her toes. She aligned herself just right and dropped the chair rail onto Linus's neck, driving every ounce of her weight downward. The man weakly attempted to fight her off. The blow to his testicles had sapped him of his strength, and now he could do nothing but suffocate.

"God dammit." Vernon's voice boomed as he lumbered into the room. He lifted Reese off the floor, grabbing hold of her damaged arm. She screamed and Vernon leapt back a foot. "What? Did he hurt you?"

Feeling faint from the throbbing in her arm, she managed a nod before slumping to the side.

Vernon grabbed the writhing man off the floor like he was a tackling dummy, then threw him headfirst into the wall. Linus collapsed onto the floor, slimping into a limp pile.

"I said no one touches her," Vernon said. "Didn't you hear me say that?"

Linus said nothing. He lifted his arm a couple inches in an effort to shield his face.

Vernon ran three paces, delivered a kick to Linus's midsection. The guy raised up, then bowed forward, face first to the floor. Vernon brought his foot back again and struck Linus's face like he was taking a penalty kick. Linus's head snapped back. Dark splatters of blood arced in the moonlight.

"Stop," Reese said.

Vernon ignored her. He dropped down to a knee and wrapped both hands around Linus's throat. The sounds of the slim man choking filled the room. The hoarse pleading, gagging, and eventual silence and subsequent stink of human waste twisted Reese's stomach.

Vernon rose, breathing heavily. He placed a hand on the wall and leaned forward. Was he going to throw up? He stood there for a few moments, but nothing happened. Then he reached down and lifted Linus's corpse off the floor.

"I'm sorry, Billie, I mean, Reese. This won't happen again."

Vernon slipped through the opening with the draped body over his shoulder, fluids splashing against the floorboards with every step.

The door banged shut.

And Reese began to cry.

Chapter 52

Crystal River, Florida, 1988

The cicadas' shrill screams had never rung this loud. It felt as though a hundred were perched on Jack's shoulders. He'd isolated the direction where his brother was being held. The long stretch of grass appeared desolate. Was anyone watching it? He had to assume they were. Deciding not to chance it, Jack stuck close to the house, crouching low, then darted the twenty feet into the woods on a diagonal line. Once behind the tree line, he dropped flat and caught his breath, listening for anyone close by who might've spotted him.

Several seconds passed. There wasn't a hint of anyone.

He rose to his knees and stared into the woods. Faint traces of light remained, enough to see outlines of shapes, but little else. Jack adjusted his position and crept toward where he believed his brother was being held. Every step seemed to disrupt dead leaves or snap a fallen branch. He glanced over his shoulder every few seconds, verifying no one followed.

"Y'all are gonna die," Sean said. "You don't know what my dad is capable of."

Someone laughed, told him to shut up.

Jack hadn't veered far off track. His brother was close. Step by step he inched closer until he had them in view. He retrieved the pistol, aimed it at the back of the guy's head.

"Freeze, asshole," he said.

The man turned around, took a step forward.

There would be no second warning. He'd given a directive, and the guy failed to follow it. His blood would not be on Jack's hand.

He squeezed the trigger.

Click.

Nothing.

What the hell? It's always loaded.

Whatever light remained glinted off the guy's teeth as he smiled.

"Oh, I'm gonna have fun with this."

Frozen in time. That's how Jack felt watching the guy attack his brother. Sean lay on the ground, his hands clutching his stomach. The man towered over him, standing just a few feet away. Jack stood there with the defunct pistol, unsure what to do next.

"I'm gonna rip your damn spine outta your mouth," the guy said.

"Jack, run," Sean said.

He heard the words. Visualized turning and sprinting through the woods, into the neighbor's yard, to their backdoor. Banging and screaming for help. Maybe he'd be in time to save Sean and Molly.

Or maybe with one on the loose, the men would cut their losses, execute whichever of Jack's siblings they held, and be on their way. Point made. Your move.

"Go!" Sean said.

Jack went. But backward was not an option.

He charged the large man that stood between him and his brother.

Chapter 53

The lights inside the garage were on, casting long yellowish-white rectangles through the windows along the parking lot. I picked a shaded lane and moved to one of the bay doors to get a look inside. The Jeep was still there. Maybe they'd done some work on it. Maybe they'd rigged it to blow up. In the middle of the room sat the big guy I'd fought with outside the garage. Two other men I didn't recognize were there, too. They were seated around a table, playing cards. I didn't spot any weapons. Only alcohol. I'd hoped that the place would be empty. This was a close second.

The best option for entering was a door along the side. It appeared to open into the garage's walled office, which at that moment was darkened and presumably deserted.

I stuck to the shadows as I made my way to the side of the building and tested the door. Found it unlocked. I cracked it an inch, then waited. No alarm. No apparent movement inside. Pushing it open further, I eased inside with the pistol drawn and aimed in front of me. As expected, the office was empty. Through a large bay window I saw the men. Not a one of them could see me.

The room had two desks, each adorned with a computer monitor and stacks of paper. I opened the center drawer of the front desk, found pens, sticky pads, and some paperclips. Nothing useful. The side drawers were locked. I moved to the next desk and checked. In there I found a six-inch hunting knife and tucked it in my waistband. The side drawers were unlocked. As I opened the first, the room lit up.

I spun on my heel, pistol aimed at the door separating the office from the rest of the garage. It remained closed. The light came from beside where I stood. A computer monitor had come to life. The three guys at the table paid no attention. Maybe they'd seen it and ignored it. Common occurrence, perhaps.

I killed the power to the monitor, then resumed my desk search, turning up nothing else. I'd have to proceed with the .22 and a knife. Bad odds.

For them.

I waited by the door a few moments, trusting that the right opportunity to enter the garage would come soon. And it did.

The three men broke out in a fit of drunken laughter. They slammed their cards, covered their faces. One guy fell out of his chair.

Within a couple seconds I was through the door and halfway to the table, pistol drawn. The first guy who spotted me went silent. The guy with his back to me must've noticed his buddy's face go slack because he looked over his shoulder and then held out his hands.

The third guy didn't fall in line with his buddies. It was the same big guy I'd beaten down the other day. He scrambled to his feet and sprinted toward me.

I didn't hesitate. I squeezed the trigger, praying that a gun I'd never fired wouldn't fail me.

It didn't.

The bullet hit him center mass ten feet out. The big guy went down clutching his heart.

"Who's next?" I said.

Both men at the table hoisted their hands high in the air. I gestured for them to stand.

"Over there. Face opposite directions and get on the ground feet-to-feet, fingers interlaced behind your head."

The men complied as the big guy choked while he bled out on the floor.

"Ain't you going to help him?" one of the guys said.

"Depends," I said. "Is my Jeep ready?"

"That thing's dead, man," the guy said.

"You got something I can use then? It's gotta be four-wheel drive."

"Take mine," the guy said. "Bronco parked out front. Keys are on the table."