The Abbey (32 page)

Karen’s directions were nearly identical to the ones Olivia had given me earlier. Her warehouse was about a forty–five–minute drive from my house, which meant Mike Bowers and his crew could probably make it from their station in thirty–five with their lights and sirens blaring. Ten minutes wasn’t a big enough gap for them to get set up.

“I’ll be there when I can.”

“You’ll be there at eleven, which means you need to leave now.”

My heartbeat ticked up a few notches, so I coughed to keep my trepidation from showing in my voice.

“I’ll be there when I’m able. It’s late, and I’m hungry. I’m going to stop by a drive through to get something to eat, and I’ll be over right after that.”

Karen chuckled, but her voice sounded harsh, almost strained.

“This isn’t a social call. If you don’t come by eleven, I’ll kill your wife.”

My fingers trembled. I closed my eyes. The picture Karen had sent earlier popped into my imagination unbidden. Visceral, raw anger spread through me, crowding out everything else I felt. I spoke clearly and slowly, much as I would have done when talking to Megan after she misbehaved.

“You’re going to do whatever you want no matter what I do. We both know that, so I’m going to get a hamburger while I can, and then I’ll come see you. Okay?”

Karen didn’t answer for a second, so all I could hear was her breath.

“You just killed your wife, Detective Rashid. Now you’re working on your daughter. I’d suggest you come on time.”

The line went dead after that. I stared at the phone, my stomach knotting and my breath coming in short gasps. Intellectually, I knew that the threat had been bluster and bravado to scare me into compliance. As long as Karen needed leverage over me, Hannah would be fine. At the same time, knowing that was true and believing it were two different things. I shivered. My mouth felt dry as I dialed Bowers’ number. He answered with a grunt.

“It’s a go,” I said, hoping my voice didn’t crack. “Same address. Eleven o’clock.”

“We’ll be there. It’s going to be fine, Rashid. We’ll get them back.”

“I know.”

He hung up before I could wish him luck. I didn’t like our plan, even if it was the best we had. My job was to go in and secure my family. Ten minutes after I went in, Mike and his crew would cut the building’s power and subdue Karen’s men in the dark. It sounded simple, but there was a lot that could go wrong. We didn’t know the building’s layout or even how many men would be inside, so we were going in blind; I guess that was better than not going in at all, though.

I grabbed a sports coat from my closet and headed to the car. My head hurt and my chest felt constricted, but I couldn’t let that bother me. I focused on the situation. In total, I had thirty–six rounds of ammunition on me. Thirty were for the Beretta in my belt holster, which Bowers and I figured Karen would confiscate. Our hope was that by giving her something to stare at, she’d miss the revolver strapped to my ankle. Six shots wouldn’t amount to much, but it was better than nothing.

As I anticipated, it took me roughly forty–five minutes to drive to Karen’s address. She seemed to have an affinity for warehouses in the middle of nowhere. Unlike the one Bukoholov’s men had burned, though, this one was in a nice complex. The grass around it looked relatively green, and most of the surrounding buildings had signs, indicating they held legitimate businesses. Karen’s warehouse had a solid block foundation with extruded, white metal siding above. There were windows evenly spaced around the exterior and a rock–lined drainage ditch in front. I could see a thicket of woods behind and to one side of the building.

I parked a block away and got out of my car. I couldn’t see Bowers or his team, and for a moment, I was tempted to give him a call. I couldn’t risk it, though, not with the possibility that someone was watching. I was going to have to trust him. The night air was crisp and clean, but it did little to still my nerves. My muscles felt tight, and I jumped every time a moth buzzed my head or something scurried across the ground. I reached behind me for my Beretta and squeezed the weapon’s grip. I felt better with it there even if I were going to lose it.

I pulled a Swiss Army knife out of my pocket and, as per Mike Bowers’ request, stabbed the rear tires of each car in the lot, including a gray
BMW
with a broken taillight and dented trunk. If my Cruiser had feelings, I’m sure it would have felt vindicated. Once the tires were flat, I straightened, adjusted my shirt, and glanced at my watch. It was five after eleven, right on time.

I collapsed the knife, stuck it in my pocket, and walked to the building’s only door. No one came to greet me, so I took out my cell phone and dialed Karen’s number.

“I’m here.”

I hung up before she could respond and sat on the folding chair propping open the door. I couldn’t see far into the building. Just a long hallway that led left and right. I took a deep breath, calming my nerves. My family was in there somewhere.

I heard Karen’s men before I saw them. At least one had keys or change in his pocket, and the other wheezed as he walked. I had seen them in the club the night before wearing all black, but this time they wore matching khaki pants, black polo shirts, and name tags. It looked as if they had come right after work. Tony and Byron. Tony had deep tract marks on his neck as if he had been scratched by an animal, and Byron had a raspberry–shaped bruise on his cheek. Byron pulled a gun from a hip holster, so I started to put my hands on top of my head.

“I think I saw photos of some work you boys did on a girl in Eagle Creek Park,” I said, standing. “As a father, I hope to kill you both before the night’s over. I thought I’d give you fair warning.”

The two of them snickered.

“Sometimes work has its rewards,” said Byron. He nodded to his partner. “Search him.”

Tony was as gentle as a rabid pit bull. He pounded my chest looking for weapons and then moved down my body until he found the Beretta strapped to my waist. He pulled it from my holster, showed it to his partner, and raised his eyebrows.

“You got anything else?” he asked. He flipped his hand around, grabbed the barrel of my gun, and used the grip to hit me in the crotch before I could move. A wrenching pain exploded across my abdomen. I couldn’t breathe, and I doubled over without thinking. Tony laughed. “Whatever you had, it’s gone now.”

I tuned the two of them out. Since I was bent over, my revolver was a few inches from my hands. I probably could have grabbed it before they even noticed. My fingers trembled, and I looked up. The jackasses were still laughing, so I put my hands on my knees, pretending to catch my breath. It would have been nice to take them out of the game before seeing Karen, but my job wasn’t to play hero. They’d get theirs. The laughter died to periodic chuckles and then that even stopped.

“You ready, Cinderella?” asked Byron, gesturing for me to stand with the muzzle of his weapon. I shot my eyes from Byron to Tony. I didn’t recognize the gun Byron carried except that it was a semiautomatic about the same size as my Glock 17. Guns that size usually held ten to fifteen rounds, so even if he were a bad shot, he’d have plenty of opportunities to put holes in me. I was less worried about Tony. He aimed my Beretta at my chest, but he had kept the safety on, so it wouldn’t fire no matter how hard he pulled the trigger. It was hard to be intimidated by stupid henchmen.

I straightened and put my hands back on my head.

“I’d like to see Karen, now.”

“She’d like to see you, too,” said Byron, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me in front of him. He pressed his gun to the small of my back. “Be respectful when you see her this time. We’re watching.”

He pushed me forward, and I acted as if I had stumbled, drawing laughter from the stooges. I looked back at them quickly. Byron favored his left side; I didn’t know if that was helpful or not, but it might slow him down in a footrace.

We stopped in front of a wooden door with a chest–high frosted glass window. The light was on inside, but I couldn’t hear anyone speaking. Tony nudged me forward with his gun, so I went through first. It was a corner office, maybe fifteen feet on a side, with empty floor–to–ceiling bookshelves and a behemoth of a desk in the center. There were two large windows with the shades drawn. Karen leaned against the desk while Hannah sat near her in a metal folding chair with her wrists zip tied in front of her. Her breathing was shallow and quick, and her lower lip quivered when she saw me. My finger nails bit into my palms.

“Where’s Megan?” I asked.

Karen slid off her desk and walked over to me. She smelled like Dove soap again.

“She’s asleep in the room next door,” she said. “We let your wife read her a story. Believe it or not, we’re not animals.”

I looked at Hannah, and she nodded almost imperceptibly, never taking her gaze from Karen’s back.

“I’m here now, and I’ll do whatever you want,” I said. “Why don’t you let them go?”

“Soon,” said Karen, putting her hand on my chest. My wife stirred, but made no move towards us. Karen looked at her henchmen, but kept her hand flat on my chest. “Were there any problems?”

Tony held up my Beretta.

“He was carrying this, but we neutered him.”

The two of them snickered, and Karen nodded.

“Tsk, tsk, Ash. Bringing a gun to a friendly meeting,” she said. “How do you expect me to trust someone like that?”

I reached into my pocket for the Swiss Army knife I had used in the parking lot.

“Your guards missed this when they frisked me,” I said, pulling it out and glancing at Karen’s thugs. They grimaced simultaneously. “They’re also loud when they walk, Tony doesn’t know how to disengage the safety on that firearm, and Byron limps on his left knee. If I wanted them dead, they would be. That’s why I expect you to trust me.”

Karen looked at her goons and shook her head.

“It’s hard to get good help these days, isn’t it?” she asked, turning back towards me.

Especially if you’re an evil bitch.

“I’ve shown you goodwill,” I said. “Now show me some. Let my wife and daughter go.”

Karen smiled.

“I will,” she said, taking a seat behind the desk and gesturing towards an upholstered chair in front. “Have a seat. We’ve got a few things to discuss about your trip.”

I looked at Hannah. With Karen behind the desk, she and Hannah were about a meter apart. My wife was a fierce woman, but Karen was armed with a knife. Hannah didn’t stand much of a chance if I started a fight. I sat down and glanced at my watch as I did. My heart was starting to beat faster. It was ten after eleven, which meant Bowers and his crew would be there any moment. I was supposed to have my family safe by then, but I didn’t know if that was possible.

“Relax,” said Karen. She held the knife in the palm of one of her hands. “Consider this as a chat between friends.”

“Since we’re friends, what’s special about Hong Kong?” I asked. “They have a lot of slayers there? Or am I visiting a new vampire coven?”

Karen laughed, and the thugs behind me snickered.

“Do you really think a tenured professor of molecular genetics would believe in vampires?”

I shrugged.

“You dress in black lingerie and spend your weekends at a vampire bar in the middle of nowhere.”

“Vampires were a means to an end,” she said. “My nephew and I needed money for research, so we gave social misfits something to believe in. In return, they did whatever we needed.”

“If you’re not interested in vampires, what’s in China?”

Karen smiled and leaned forward, dropping the Swiss Army knife beside her elbow on the desk blotter.

“A billion Chinese people.”

“Besides that, Captain Obvious,” I said.

She laughed but didn’t say anything.

“What did you really inject me with?” I asked.

As soon the words left my lips, the building went dark and the hum of the air conditioner ceased. For a moment, time held its breath and stopped. The room was so quiet that I could hear crickets outside. I don’t know who broke that silence first, me or Karen, but I screamed for Hannah to get down while Karen ordered her men to open fire.

I thrust my hips back and dropped my left shoulder to the ground while simultaneously bringing my knees to my chest. Tony and Byron raised their weapons while I grabbed my revolver and pulled it from my ankle holster. Bullets thwacked against the desk behind me and ricocheted against the concrete floor. Splinters struck me in the back and side, and something hot skimmed my right shoulder, rocking me back as I raised my revolver. The blood roared so loud in my ears that I couldn’t hear a thing.

I squeezed the trigger four times, putting two center of mass shots in each man. The first hit Byron in the shoulder, spinning him, while the second hit him in the neck. Robbie’s revolver wasn’t accurate, but it did the trick. I had better luck with Tony. Both shots hit him in the chest, and he fell backwards. Adrenaline rocketed through my body. With those two down, I jumped up, my ears ringing and the room stinking like sulfur. I ran around the desk, holding the revolver in front of me and breathing heavily.

Karen was on the ground unmoving while Hannah leaned against the desk, a dented folding chair between her and the wood. Despite the shield, her shoulder bled, and there was a deep cut on her cheek. She waved her arms and screamed, but my ears rang so hard I couldn’t hear. I shouted that I was deaf, so she slowed down, mouthing one word over and over.

Megan.

My stomach dropped, and any pain I felt in my shoulder disappeared as I sprinted out of the office and into the hallway. Their voices sounded hollow, but I heard Mike’s men shout ‘clear’ as they searched offices in another part of the building. I ran in the opposite direction and crashed into the only room I could find. It was a narrow storage room with shelving made from elbow brackets and plywood. There was an empty Winnie the Pooh sleeping bag on the ground and a broken window on the far wall.

I dove through the window without thinking, catching my shirt and jacket on shards of glass still protruding from the frame. I escaped major lacerations and rolled onto a patch of gravel outside. Glass crunched against my back, but I hardly felt it. I put my hands on my knees to catch my breath. I was alone on the far side of the warehouse facing the tree line. I spotted movement in the woods ahead of me. I sprinted, my lungs burning and my arms pumping against my sides. I only had two shots left. I should have grabbed another gun before running out.