BREAKING STEELE (A Sarah Steele Thriller) (13 page)

HW

P.S. Oh, and if you go to the police or your pal Dan, Game Over. This is our game—no cheating!

I read the note three times and looked at the four pictures. I wanted to get the police involved and call in every connection I had. But I knew if this was real, if Hank Williams had kidnapped her, my decision could cost her life. He had unlimited resources, and for all I knew he was watching me now.

“Four hours,” I whispered. Picking up my phone, I set the alarm on it. Beep. It began counting down. Every second going by meant Angela’s chances were slimmer.

How had the pictures arrived at my car? Had someone been following me this whole time? I thought about Hannah, how she said she would break me. It had to be her. She probably called Glen or Hank when she left, and told them where I was.

“You need to go to the police,” Mandy said. There were tears in her eyes. “They’re equipped to handle things like—”

“Shh,” I said harshly. Spreading the photos out and putting my lamplight directly on them, I snapped a picture with my phone of each one. Then I took a picture of the note.

“How can you do this, Sarah? You’re an attorney, not a detective.” Her voice shook in anger.

“I can do this,” I whispered, more to myself than them. Opening up the envelope, I breathed in the scent again. Cherry. No doubt about it.

Rick sat up. His voice was stern. “There’s no room for error, no chance at forgiveness. You make a mistake and Angela’s dead. Now take the photos to the police.”

Some of my old confidence returned. At the sight of Angela tied up and hurting, I’d shut off everything about me and made it all about her. This was bigger than me now. It was time to meet Hank Williams face to face. And I wouldn’t mind if I could get Glen Williams behind bars in the process.

“I’m not taking the pictures to the police,” I said evenly. “I have to study them. I have to find out where she is.” I looked up at them. Their expressions were frantic. “I have to play the game.”

Mandy turned her back to me and slammed her hand against the wall. “You’re going to kill that girl.”

I stood up so quickly the chair fell over backwards. Mandy’s eyes widened and Rick tensed up. “I can’t think when it’s so quiet.” Going over to my computer, I turned on an old screamo album I had to its loudest volume. Mandy gave me a strange look. She knew me better than that. She knew I couldn’t think
unless
it was quiet.

I picked the chair back up and sat down, bending over the pictures again. Except this time I motioned for them to come close. Rick stood and slowly came towards me, as if he was afraid I would do something. Mandy leaned in right away. Her red hair blended with my blonde on the table.

When Rick bent over the two of us, I mouthed to them, with a mix of hand motions, “take—” I pointed to the pictures, “to police. Place could be bugged.” In a motion, I slit my throat. “Don’t come near me again.” And then I looked up at them, my soul in my eyes. “Stay safe.”

Rick nodded solemnly. Mandy winked at me, then said loudly. “Fine. Then if you want to sentence her to death, I’m not going to be a part of this. See you at the funeral.”

I handed her the envelope with everything inside, and blew her a kiss. She hid them inside her purse.

When they walked out the door, I’d never felt so bereft.

And so intent on finding Angela. The clues were at my fingertips, I could feel it. My whole body tingled in tension. It was my turn now.My turn to hunt down Hank Williams.

And I had less than four hours to do it.

Chapter 41

I WENT TO WHERE I could think the best. At the office, on the bench beside the lake. The fountain ceaselessly sprouted water. It made ripples in the pool and sounded like rain. It was the only music I needed for this. The place was deserted and at this hour I would be shocked if it wasn’t.

I hadn’t had a chance to study the pictures. They were still a mystery. I pulled my legs up and sat cross-legged on the bench, in a lotus position. Time to meditate. I opened my phone and focused all my energy on the images in it. The pictures must’ve been taken on a nice camera, the quality was good. I took them apart centimeter by centimeter, studying every little square.

I shut off my imagination and feelings, and became like a computer, only recognizing objective details.

Her clothes. I noticed she wasn’t wearing her own shirt. It was a button up blouse with a floral pattern, and Angela wouldn’t have picked it out in a million years. Which means he’d already undressed her. She wasn’t wearing any pants. There was a big, dark stain on the carpet beneath her hips, and what looked like blood running down her leg. She wasn’t wearing any shoes, but I saw them in the corner of the photo.

Her marks. She had bruises on her shins, as if she’d tripped over an obstacle in her path. Too low to be a fence. Too high to be a step. Maybe it was on a car door, like she was forced to enter one. There was a bruise on her cheek as if she’d been backhanded. And one of her toenails was torn off.

Bindings. Her hands were tied behind her, I couldn’t see what with. But I assumed it was with duct tape, as that’s what covered her mouth and bound her feet.

Location. The building she was in was being renovated. It seemed to be a house, because I saw a closet with a
Cat Lover’s Calendar
hanging on its door, and the wallpaper trim had cartoon kittens hugging and cuddling with mice. There was a toolbox in the closet, with a power drill beside it. The air seemed hazy, as if filled with sawdust or drywall dust. All of the wooden trimming was torn off and thrown in a corner. Loose and twisted nails littered the ground. Angela was standing with a wooden post at her back. Her hands looked to be behind it.

I was pulled into her eyes. They were the only free thing about her. She looked straight at the camera, in pleading agony. That was what got to me.

Hunching over, I broke down in sobs. I didn’t want to imagine what she was going through at this very moment. I knew what was happening, but I didn’t want to believe it was possible. That in this world, a smart, feisty, lovable girl like Angela could be ravaged like this. That she could know such pain and agony in her short life.

Anger overwhelmed me. I covered my mouth with my hands and screamed. The sound pierced the darkness. It broke the stillness. I wailed into the night.

Then, panting, I closed my eyes. All that I’d been hiding, the part of me I’d wanted to destroy, I brought out. It was time to let the darkness out, and use what I kept buried. I had to help Angela, had to stop Hank and his brother Glen once and for all.

I looked at the stopwatch on my phone. Two more hours until she’d be dead.

I stood up and started pacing, taking huge breaths. I thought through every detail, piecing them together like a puzzle.

I was fairly certain she was at the same location I’d been taken to when I was kidnapped. First, because the house was being renovated. And second, because I had seen the same weird color of green carpet lint downstairs that was at her feet.

If she was there, that meant she was only twenty miles from my house. At the most. I’d been drugged, taken there, and put back in my room in less than two hours.

Which meant I had to find all the houses that were being renovated in my area. That would take forever.

But I had someone to call. After dialing, I paced impatiently until he answered.

“Hello?” Rick said.

“Are you home?” I asked.

“Yes. Wha—”

“You work in real estate.Don’t large companies pay to move people into town for jobs? I know Micron does it all the time.”

“Yeah, most bigger companies that hire out of state contract with relocation services.Why?”

“I’ve got a hunch.See if you can find out what service Williams, Inc. uses. I hope one of the houses they use is the one they took me to.”

“That’s a long shot, but I think you’re right, they will have houses and apartments set up for new hires for temporary housing. Let me call a guy, Doug works for a service in town and I’ve done a few deals with him for Williams, Inc. I’m betting they use him as there are only two services like that in town.”

“Lets just hope he’s up.” It was late but with my luck Doug kept his phone on.

Ten minutes later Rick texted me an address. Delaware Avenue. Number 1123. It was eight blocks from my house and was owned by the relocation service but only used by Williams, Inc. He said Doug was a little drunk but gave him access to their database after he explained what was going on.

A few seconds later my phone lit up. It was Mandy.

“Sarah, I’m gonna go out to look, both of us are. Rick found eight more homes in a twenty minute driving radius of your house, there is no way you can do this alone.”

My gut balled up, what if Mandy found the right house first?What if she got hurt? “No, Mandy, I need you and Rick to stay home. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you guys got hurt, or worse.”

“I wasn’t asking, Sarah. We are already out. Rick has a shotgun and he called the police with all the addresses. I’ll text you three addresses and Rick and I will take the rest. I am on my bike and not in the mood to argue.”

I swore under my breath and hung up. Seconds later a text came through with three more addresses. That made four I had to search.

Hold on, Angela. I’m coming for you.

Chapter 42

I DIDN’T KNOW WHERE to start so I started with the first address I got from Rick. I punched it in on my GPS and hit the gas. I could care less if I got pulled over, tonight I was the hunter.

I had four different addresses and not enough time. I prayed that I found the right house and not Rick or Mandy.Why in the world would he let her go alone? Rick could be a bonehead at times and Mandy had a way of getting her way.

Memories of my father flooded my mind and the look in his eyes when he knew I’d betrayed him. It was the worst moment in my life but at the time I felt nothing. But now, after so many painful years and years in a counselor’s office I learned to control the evil lurking just under the surface.

Pressing the gas pedal down harder, I blew through a red light, thankful that there was no one else on the road. I was gone now, not driving, not thinking, just letting my gut and the rage control. It was the only way to win this game, and I was going to win.

You wanted to break me, well, congratulations, you broke me. And you are going to regret it.

Chapter 43

WHEN I TURNED OFF at Delaware Avenue, I turned my lights off. There were no streetlights so I could keep to the shadows. Drawing next to the curb, I parked. I would hoof it from here.

Number 1123 was second from the last home. I could tell from the blue dumpster sitting in its yard, filled with beams and junk from the renovation. It was two stories, and didn’t have any lights on. I spied one on the porch that might have a security sensor, and decided to go in from the back.

I’d have the element of surprise. But I’d need more than that. I took my gun from my purse. It fit comfortably in my hands. Sliding out the clip, I checked it and made sure it was full. And then I put ten more bullets in my pocket and tossed the box of shells on the front seat. Unless there was an army in the house, that should do the trick.

I drew in a breath. This was it. I could either wait for the police or go on alone. If I went in, did I have what it took to finish the job?

I glanced at my phone. It blinked the time, constantly getting smaller. 14:01. 14:00. 13:59. 13:58. I snapped the clip in the gun and released the safety. Angela’s face was in my mind. I couldn’t wait another second.

Chapter 44

AS I CREPT AROUND the block, guided by moonlight, old buried memories threatened to surface and I didn’t want to think about them right now. But it’s funny how the mind works, like a trigger board, one thing touches another and sends a signal and memories once forgotten flood the circuits.

I peeked over the nose-high back fence. There were no outside lights at the back of the house, only a concrete porch and cracked sliding door. There were no cars parked on the front driveway and I wondered if I was even at the right house.

But then, through the window, I saw a shadowy form go from one room to the other. It moved quickly through the darkness, not even turning on a light.

That was when I started to sweat.

Forcing the fear down, I harnessed the anger inside me. I had to do what I had to do. Pushing on the wooden gate, it opened with a dull creak. I tiptoed across the lawn and to the door.

Before I lost my nerve and threw up on the grass, I grasped the handle and shoved the sliding door sideways. It gave way. It either had a bum lock or I was really strong.

I smelled it before my eyes adjusted to the light.

Blood
.

Hang on, Angela.

I moved forward slowly with my gun down to the right holding on to it with both hands. I was shaking, and adrenaline coursed through me.

There was a gutted kitchen to my right, with broken cabinets and holes where appliances used to be. I could see a formal dining room behind it. There was a door in front of me, which I figured led to the basement. And there was a media room to my left, with wires and cords still sticking out from the wall. I went toward the basement door and pushed it open. The stairs leading down were dark but a little light was coming from the bottom giving me hope. This had to be the right house.

I made myself breathe. In and out. I couldn’t even hear my footsteps. Before I turned the corner, I tensed up.

I hesitated, and then rushed through with my gun raised.

That was when I saw her. Tied with her hands behind her back to a wooden support post and her head down. Under her feet was a pool of blood.

I lowered my gun and ran to her.

“Angela …are you—”

At my voice, her eyes flew open. She cried and mumbled into her gag. Instant tears swelled in her eyes. I grabbed her to me, emotions roiling so strong I could barely handle them. “It’s going to be okay. Don’t worry now, everything’s going to be okay,” I crooned.