Steele Resolve (The Detective Jasmine Steele Series Book 1) (14 page)

“Enough.”

James stops punching me and I feel my body swing a bit as I spit out more blood. I’m not sure what I’m going to do to get out of here, but I have to get a plan together. I don’t know how much longer I can handle this. Eventually, the pain in my hand will make me pass out.

“Long time detective.”

Opening my eyes again and looking to my left I see Garrison staring at me, his eyes tired and his face unshaven.

“You look like shit.”

“Yea, well you don’t make this shit easy for me, do you?”

He hands James a rag.

“You’re wanted in the other room.” James nods. He wipes his hands of sweat and blood as he leaves. Garrison finally turns to look at me.

“You couldn’t just let me handle this.”

“Someone kept calling me. You know how I had being annoyed at all hours.”

Garrison paces a bit.

“Sorry about that. James is a bit overzealous.”

“James was the voice on the phone, not you.”

“No, not me.”

He kneels by Hadley. I struggle against the restraints. He brushes his hand along the side of her face.

“You weren’t supposed to be involved and I’m sorry.” He leans back and smacks her face hard, knocking her unconscious. Standing up he turns his attention back to me.

“You were supposed to let things go.”

“I was doing my job.”

“Let’s not lie, detective. I know you remember me from the accident.”

“The night you killed my brother? Yea, I remember you.”

Garrison nods as he leans against the wall near the chains controls.

“You make one mistake and you pay for it the rest of your life.”

“You made a mistake? You murdered two innocent people.”

“You think I don’t know that!” He yells at me as he gets in my face. “I see their faces every time I close my eyes, but that is my cross to bear. None of this revenge by the surviving family bullshit.”

“That’s why no one was ever charged. Daddy got you out of it.”

“My father…” Garrison pauses as he leans back against the wall. “My father is a man you don’t cross. He’s a man you never get out of owing a debt to.”

“So you’re doing his dirty work. What does daddy have a pension for murder?”

“He has specific tastes. One your friend here denied him. You never turn down an invitation.”

The case was truly about greed, money and power. This entire time I thought it had to do with my family, the accident and all things close to me, but I was wrong.

“Well, she said no to James, too but who’s keeping track of Hadley’s Stalkers.”

“I see,” he says calmly staring past me out into the main room. He nods his head a few times before pushing the button, lowering me to the ground. My feet touch and I stumble to gain my balance. He stops the machine and detaches me form the hook.

“I’m good at a great many things detective. Hunting is one of them.” He pulls out the key to the handcuffs and holds it in front of my face.

“I hope you understand I have a job to do.” He places the key in my hand before taking a step back. I don’t do anything with it.

“There’s a limited amount of space. Not much in the way of hiding or escaping.” James pops his head back in the room disrupting us.

“Ready.” Garrison gives James a cold hard stare, one that makes me shiver, before nodding in response. James’ face pales and he takes one final look at Hadley before leaving.

“I’ll make sure to wear my dress blues for you.” Before I know how to respond, Garrison rushes forward and wraps his arms around my neck. Dropping the key, I do my best to fight him off but I feel the darkness creeping in. I can’t stay awake.

Chapter Ten

Rolling over onto my stomach I feel pain pounding inside my skull. It’s as if my brain was bounced around a playground before being put back in my head. Blinking again to adjust to the light, I realize I’m alone in the room. The door is open and the lights inside and out are on. That’s a good sign. Hadley’s probably being held in another room, the question is where. Trying to get up, I hear metal hitting the ground and I see the key for the handcuffs. Swaying a bit, I manage to pick up the key and fight to get it into the locks. It takes time, but I manage to uncuff myself. My cast is almost totally torn off. Using my good hand, and the hook of the handcuffs, I fight to rip off the rest. It might be a broken pile of flesh, but adrenaline helps the pain.

“Get up,” I mutter to myself. Nothing like some encouragement from within to try and get you up and moving. Rolling over onto my stomach, I push off my hands and force my way into a standing position. The barren room holds no hidden weapons for me to use, so I am going to have to survive on my wit and good looks I guess.

“I’m screwed.” I say to no one in particular before slowly exiting the room.

The main room still looks like it’s the same place. The crates and boxes litter the floor, some reaching all the way to the low lying catwalk. There’s a staircase at the other end and one to my right. I have a choice of being the eyes in the sky or the mouse on the floor. Normally the eyes in the sky would be great, but without my weapon I couldn’t do any damage even if I wanted to. Not to mention if they have guns on the floor, I’d have no place to hide up above.

“If you were going hunting, which you totally don’t like to do because you can’t kill Bambi, which route would you take?” I ask myself as I lean on the wall just before the entry into the labyrinth.

“Get off of me!” Hadley’s scream echoes in the large room. Making my mind up I grab onto the staircase and quickly make my way up to the second level. Ducking into a hallway, I quickly hide in the shadows. Two rooms rest behind me; I hope they’re empty. My gut tells me they are, but you can never be too sure. I also might be able to put something together as a weapon. I can’t go running across cat walks empty handed.

Opening the room to my right, I see a waste land for old desk parts. Broken chairs, a messed up table with metal legs riddle the floor. I grab the legs of the table trying to break one off, but nothing budges. Grabbing one of the desk chairs, I flip it over and pull on the bottom wheels. The entire section of five wheels falls off easily into my hand. Tossing the plastic cover off to the side, I grab the small metal bar beneath it. Holding it in one hand, I realize it’s much too small to use as a distance weapon but it can pack a punch.

Heading out to the hallway, I open up the door across from me. The door opens, but no light anyway to be found. Feeling around the walls for any switch, I finally find something and flip it in the opposite direction. A flicker of light barely illuminates the room, blood litters the back wall and it looks recent. Touching it only proves my suspicions as the fluid is warm to the touch but not fresh enough to still have a body over it.

“The bigger question is who does all this blood belong to?” Making a mental note of the splatter design, I flip the switch again and leave the room.

The main room seems darker than when I walked into the other rooms. It could be my nerves, my head playing tricks on me or hell it could be anything around me. Standing at the edge of the catwalk, lowering my height so I might be difficult to see, I notice movement in the upper corner. Sliding my feet, as quietly as humanly possible, I move along the main walkway heading for the one that splits the center of the room in the middle.

I look over to where the movement had been prior, but I don’t see anything. Moving quickly, I turn the corner and look down the long metal walkway. It would be so much easier if I could just stand up and run without getting shot.

“You could always just wish for the best,” I laugh to myself. Keeping my center of gravity as low to the ground as possible, I head down the walkway. Thankfully these walkways are park of the building structure, no cabling holding it up from the ceiling. In other words, nothing they can do to make this thing fall. Unless they have rocket launchers. That would be very bad. Holding the pipe tightly in my hand, I continue my walk. It’s quiet. Too quiet for my taste, but what can you do.

“He said he loved to hunt. Maybe he’s just waiting for the right time to take you out. Or maybe he’s just watching you and laughing at how you’re talking to yourself trying to figure this out.” Shaking my head, I realize I’m almost to the other side. Risking everything I stand up and run as fast as I can to the other wall. Finding safety in the shadows, I catch my breath.

Something moves in the room behind me causing me to push deeper into the shadows. Raising my pipe chest level, I reach forward and open the door. The office is dark, but there are some flickering lights from a small light bulb on the back wall. Hadley lies motionless on the floor. Dropping to my knees I roll her over.

“Hadley,” shaking her body is all I can think of to wake her up, “Hadley, wake up.” I whisper to her. Running my hands through her hair, she’s not bleeding from her head or anywhere else for that matter.

“Jasmine?” She groggily replies to me. Grabbing her arms I pull her into a sitting position.

“Are you hurt?”

“I have a headache, like a really bad one.” She stutters at me, no blood trickling out of her mouth. That is a blessing.

“I heard you screaming, you sure you’re okay?” Hadley’s eyes open wide with confusion. She tilts her head to the side and lifts her hand to my face.

“You look like shit.” I can only imagine what my face looks like. I’ve been fighting the pain in my head and the rest of my body since I woke up. It’s more natural drugs more than anything else right now.

“I didn’t scream. I don’t remember moving from the other room.” It’s then that I hear the movement below. I was supposed to find her first, then the hunt begins.

“We need to get you out of here now!” I pull Hadley to her feet, but she struggles. I hear footsteps fast approaching. “Hadley, you need to move.” Finally getting her to a standing position, I stand up and James stares right at me.

“Miss me?”

Rushing at James, I tackle him into the hallway.

“Hadley, run!”

I push the small metal pipe down with my damaged hands, effectively choking James. Hadley runs past me and down the stairs. James takes my diverted attention as a sign it’s time to fight back. He rolls me over, landing on my chest. The stupidly small bar feels awfully big pressing down on my throat.

“Should have just stayed out of it, but no, the big bad detective has to protect everyone.” James leans back for a second, his weight leaning on my hips.

“I wonder how I’ll explain this to your friends. Especially Frankie, that’ll be fun. Who knows maybe I’ll console her so much she come back to the male side of things.” He laughs at me.

Anger is a powerful tool for energy and I use all of it to lift my legs up wrapping James up around his chest. He fights back, punching my knees as I pull him backwards. Eventually his body follows suit and he’s on the ground, my legs choking him. Holding the bar in one hand, I swing it at his head. I know I’ve hit him since I hear his moans, but I don’t stop. He tries to stop the blows, but I just continue. Swing, after swing, after swing, I hit him. Then I hear this sickening crack sound. I can feel the acid rolling up my throat as I look at what I’ve done.

His face is covered in blood. His eyes vacant. Pushing his body off of my leg, I see a bit of his skull on the ground with some matter on it. I assume it’s his brain, but I’m not a doctor so who knows. Looking at the pipe in my hand I see blood and flesh on it. I toss it against James’ body before I turn to throw up. It’s mixed with blood of course, but it burns none the less. After a few heaves of fluid followed by a few dry ones, I lean against the wall. I’ve killed a man. I don’t know what to do with that information.

I could sit and stare at James’ lifeless body as the blood trickles out of him. It’s an odd sight, watching blood pool. It reminds me of a motor oil, thick, dark and forms in an almost perfect circle where it leaks from. Not like water or mud, they make odd designs on a floor. But not blood. I killed a man. How does one get past this?

I hear a door slam below me. It’s a bit of a reality check. I’m not out of the woods yet. That means I might have to do this again. I might have to kill another man, consciously, willingly and knowingly. Turning my head I throw up again. This time, it’s all blood. I’m running out of time myself. It’s then that I can rationalize, I might have killed a man but if I don’t get out of here, they will have killed me.

Pushing off the wall, I pat down James’ body and find a small knife in his side. Too bad he wasn’t carrying his gun. Then again if he was, he would have shot me right away. Stupid criminal mistake I guess. Or he was just an idiot. Either way, his loss is my gain.

“Time to go hunting.” God, I hope Hadley made it out of this place. She’d call for help. Maybe they traced my phone already and are on their way here. Lots of maybes do not equal definitive answers. I’ve got to operate under the assumption no one is coming and Hadley isn’t free. Don’t feel, just act.

Lifting myself up from the floor, I slip a bit in the blood that has formed around me. Leaning on the wall for support, I walk along it to the main walkway. I don’t care about the height or possibility of being shot right now. The adrenaline has made me feel a bit invincible but also makes me look at karma. If I’m meant to die I will, but after taking a life in defense of your own, it feels… invincible.

Walking down the steps, I hold my bloody head high almost begging Garrison to take a shot. Part of me knows he won’t. It’s not fun hunting something so willing to die. People like him enjoy the thrill or the chase, the control over his prey. Like his father controls him. It’s in their DNA. I wonder if cougars or lions feel this way. I’m sure great whites don’t really care. When an animal is hungry, it is primal, unthinking. We complicate things too much with emotional thought. Humans complicate everything with desire, but that’s the basis for all greed and crap going on in this world.

“Doesn’t matter at the end of the day. We all die. It’s all pointless.” I stop walking down the stairs and lean on the railing.

“You hear me Garrison? It’s all pointless anyway!” I scream at him, my adrenaline pumping fiercely through my veins like a direct line of espresso to my heart.

Walking with the knife’s hilt firmly in my hand, I reach the bottom maze of stuff. Looking around, one could hide anywhere in here. Three ways to walk sit directly in front of me, which one do I take. I can hear Chase singing “One of these things is not like the other…” from one of his favorite television shows as a kid. There’s no difference to the naked eye, but one could be instant death.

“When in doubt always pick C.”

I walk along the third path, weaving in and out of piles of wood, paper and things. Looking around, keeping my eyes peeled I try to take in my surroundings. I try to be aware, but I also see more blood than clarity right now. I blink as much as possible away. I wipe my face but I remove some blood only to replace it with blood from my busted hand. Pointless. I walk up to a dead end of sorts, a pile of wood blocking me.

“Time to climb.” I mumble to myself as I climb up this stupidly unsteady wood.

My leg slides down between boards and I wince as something cuts into my flesh. Looking down I see a nice rusty nail embedded in my skin. Taking a deep breath, I pull my leg up out of the mess of boards. The nail gouges deeper into my leg. I want to scream but nothing escapes my lungs. Leaning on my left side, I reach down with my right arm, pushing at the stray bits of wood around my right leg. One or two boards slide away and bang at the bottom of the pile. Taking another deep breath, I pull my leg backwards, away from the nail. The sound of a nail removing itself from your skin is a unique and indescribable one. It’s nasty to say the least, but my leg is free. Wounded, bleeding badly, but free.

Getting to the top of the pile, I hang over the edge to the other side. Dropping down, I land on my right leg and it bucks under the pressure. The pain so great I fall onto my back.

“Would have been easier if I just doubled back huh, Jasmine. You idiot. Never could do anything like a normal human being. Always have to do it your way.” I angrily mutter at myself.

“Need a hand?” I look up to see Garrison standing above me. His face etched with a sadistic smile. “Looks like you’ve hurt yourself pretty bad there, detective. That wouldn’t have to do with that body upstairs now would it?”

“You know it’s not.”

“True, but when an NYPD officer murders another officer, one has to question everything.”

“You know he attacked me.”

“Yeah, we do. Then again no one really believes anything we say do they? We’re always racists, on the take, vile and evil. You don’t want to take responsibility for being a murderer, blame the cop who arrested you. Call us pigs, spit on us and do what you want. It’s okay, because the public allows it.”

“You’re no better.”

“Never said I was.”

Garrison reaches forward and pulls me up into his grip. He stumbles with me for a second and looks down at his stomach. He pushes me back to the floor hard. My knife embedded in his side.