Catnapped! (A Matchmaker Mystery Book 3) (13 page)

“Of course I want to,” Alyssa snapped.

“So what’s stopping you?”

Instead of answering, Alyssa pointed to a parking lot that ran alongside a report. “We’re here. Park there.”

Tara pulled the van to a stop. Pete and Gerald parked beside them on the passenger side.

Tara tapped twice on the dashboard and the ocean surf stopped.

Grabbing the bag, Alyssa slid out of the car, shivering against the cool night air after having been cocooned in Tara’s oasis.

“You bring home this cat, and you’ll make a difference in the old lady’s life,” Tara told her.

Alyssa nodded. She closed the door and turned to face Pete who’d rolled down his window. Worry lines etched his forehead and pulled down the corners of his mouth.

“I really don’t like this.” Reaching out, he caught her wrist.

A tingle of awareness arced between them, chasing away the chill and replacing it with a warmth that touched every cell of her body.

“Tell me you’ll be careful,” he demanded.

She nodded. “I’m not expecting any trouble. It should be a straight swap.”

“And if it’s not, a cat is not worth getting yourself killed over.” His voice, deepened by concern, made her insides flip-flop.

“I’ve got this.” Shaking off his grip, she marched toward the bridge in the middle of the park, the designated meeting spot.

By the time she climbed all the stairs and reached the highest point of the bridge, her fingers ached from clutching the heavy bag so tightly.

As soothing as the water had sounded in Tara’s van, the fury of the rain-swollen stream beneath the bridge made her anxious. Placing the bag at her feet, she turned in a slow circle, surveying the area.

The park appeared deserted. Pete’s car and the van, the only vehicles in the lot, were farther away than she’d expected them to be.

A niggle of nervousness tugged in her gut. If she did end up needing help, it would take them a while to get to her.

Pete drummed on the steering wheel, watching Alyssa standing on the bridge. Beside him, Gerald didn’t seem to be the slightest concerned about the events at hand. He was studying his phone with rapt attention.

Pete glanced at the van beside him, and was relieved to see, like him, Tara was hanging on every movement Alyssa made.

His cellphone vibrated. Pulling it out, he saw it was Tom calling. Without taking his eyes off Alyssa, he answered. “Hey.”

“Bad time?” his brother asked.

“Kind of in the middle of something.”

“I won’t keep you. I just wanted to let you know that I heard from Geoff.”

Pete gripped the phone tighter. “And?” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gerald look up from his phone to stare at him curiously.

“He’s going to help out Brady.”

Pete nodded. He’d had no doubt that Geoffrey would help out the only friend who’d stood by him.

“There!” Gerald shouted, pointing at two people starting across the bridge toward Alyssa.

“Gotta go.” Pete hung up on his brother, leaning forward to get a better look at the potential threat approaching the woman he’d fallen for.

One of the figures held a bag, the size of the one Alyssa held. It had to contain the cat.

“Why are there two of them?” Gerald asked nervously.

“I don’t know.” But Pete didn’t like it.

Save her.

The pair stopped a few feet away from Alyssa.

Pete reached for the handle of his door.

Alyssa eyed the two people who approached her. Both were dressed in black from head to toe. Both wore masks. The taller one was a cartoon mouse, who carried the bag with the cat. The shorter one was a cartoon bird.

She left the bag at her feet, wanting her hands free as they approached.

The pathetic mewling of a cat could barely be heard over the rushing water.

“Hand it over,” Mouse demanded in a voice that was too rough and deep to belong to a cartoon rodent.

“You first,” Alyssa countered.

“We’re not screwing around.” The mouse gave the bag an impatient shake. “Give us the dough.”

Alyssa, realizing too late she should have worked out a signal to let the others know she needed their help, replied coolly. “Give me the cat.”

The duck stepped closer.

Alyssa stiffened. “Look, it’s a trade. You give me the cat. I give you the cash.”

Mouse moved closer to the side of the bridge and held the bag over the side. “Hand it over or the cat drowns.”

Fury, impotence, and fear swirling inside her, Alyssa scooped up her bag, knowing her opponents had the upper-hand. If she gave them the money, chances were she’d never get Mr. Burberry back. She only had one option.

She moved fast, skittering over to the opposite side of the bridge, avoiding Duck’s lunge for her. Mirroring Mouse’s threat of holding the sack over the water, she warned. “Touch me and I drop it.”

She expected Mouse to hesitate. She assumed he’d negotiate.

Instead, he said, “You had to do things the hard way.” Then he dropped the bag.

“No!” Alyssa screamed in horror as the cat yowled. She swung the cash at Duck’s head as he made a grab for her, knocking him back a few steps. Clutching the bag, she ran in the opposite direction of the two men, needing to get to the stream’s shore to rescue Mr. Burberry.

A glance in the direction of the parking lot revealed that Pete was running straight for her. Behind him Tara was running, albeit more slowly, at a different angle.

A gunshot echoed through the air. Instinctively, Alyssa dove away from the sound. She tumbled headfirst down the flight of stone stairs, sharp edges and hard contact scraping and bruising as she fell.

She landed at the bottom, unable to breathe after having the wind knocked out of her so violently. Realizing she’d let go of the bag, she felt the ground beside her, searching for it. The adrenaline coursing through her veins allowed her to roll over. Spotting the bag, she painfully crawled toward it.

Then Mouse appeared above her, moonlight glinting off his gun’s barrel as he pointed it at her. “You were more trouble than we’d anticipated.”  He descended the stairs, one agonizing step at a time.

Terrified, her body went cold knowing she wouldn’t escape.

Still, she had to try.

She desperately tried to scramble out of his line of fire, but her body, recovering from the fall, wasn’t willing to cooperate.

In the distance, she heard Pete calling her name.

He was still too far away to help her, but knowing he was on his way gave her a powerful surge of hope.

She might not have been able to save the cat, but maybe she could save Pete.

“Here.” She shoved the bag at the Mouse.

He stopped advancing at the bottom of the stairs. “Since you’re about to die, I’ll let you in on a little secret, Montgomery.  The money was never the objective.”

He aimed his weapon at her.

She knew in that moment she was going to die.

She heard the anguish in Pete’s voice as he called her name one last time.

And she saw white lights.

Save her.

Pete saw the lights too.

Focused on Alyssa, his heart breaking with the knowledge he couldn’t save her, he didn’t understand what the lights meant.

Until they almost ran him over.

Engine roaring, his car rocketed past him, straight toward Alyssa and her would-be killer.

The gunman saw it too and turned the gun away from Alyssa and toward the vehicle barreling down on him.

“Don’t stop, Gerald,” Pete prayed silently.

The gunman squeezed off a shot, then another.

To his credit, though he swerved as a bullet shattered the windshield, Gerald never stepped on the brake. He plowed into bridge at full speed.

The gunman barely leapt out of the way in time, and when he did, he fell, hitting his head on a rock. He lay still.

Heart pounding, lungs burning, Pete finally reached Alyssa’s side. Blood covered the side of her face, but her eyes were open.

He crouched down. “Alyssa?”

“The other guy,” she gasped.

Pete stood and looked around. The other man was nowhere to be seen. “Gone.” He knelt beside her. “You’re going to be okay.”

“Bowtie?”

“I’ll check.” Pulling out his phone, he dialed 9-1-1 as he walked over to his mangled car. The airbags had deployed. He had to push them out of the way to find Gerald, who was slumped forward, unconscious… or worse.

“There’s been an accident. People are injured. We need police and a couple of ambulances at Patriot Park.”

Bracing himself for the worst, he reached inside and felt for a pulse on Gerald’s neck. It was there, strong and steady.

“Thank God.” Pete leaned weakly against the car. “Roscoe was right, kid. You’ve got balls,” he whispered to the unaware young man.

Turning to go back toward Alyssa, he saw a figure moving through the darkness in her direction. His heart stuttered. The danger wasn’t over.

Then he realized it was Tara stumbling through the shadows. She was soaked to the skin and bedraggled, but she was beaming. “Got him.” She held up a bag. The cat inside meowed on cue.

Alyssa groaned in pain as she turned trying to see Tara.

“Easy, sweetheart.” Pete fell to his knees beside her. “Don’t move. An ambulance is on the way.”

“I’m fine,” she murmured on a weak gasp.

Taking in how pale she was and the sticky blood, he shook his head. “That was a hell of a fall you took. You may be more banged up than you thought.”

“Gerald?”

“Alive.”

“Mildred,” she wheezed painfully.

“She’s safe at home.”

“Not.”

Pete shared a worried look with Tara wondering if Alyssa had some sort of brain injury. “Not what?”

“Not safe. We have to get to her.” She struggled to get up, letting out a sharp cry at the sudden movement.

“I’ll call Roscoe,” Pete soothed, gently pushing her back to the ground.

He dialed quickly and waited. It rang once.

“Not objective,” Alyssa muttered, tears leaking from her eyes, mingling with her blood.

It rang twice. Then a third time.

Time seemed to slow as it rang for the fourth and fifth times.

Uneasiness prickled the back of Pete’s neck.

“You. Have. To. Save. Her.” Alyssa gasped, grabbing his arm and squeezing it.

Save her
.

“Go,” Alyssa begged.

“Go,” Tara seconded. “I’ll stay with them. The keys are still in the ignition of the van.”

Pete hesitated. The choice was agonizing.

“In my job, I have to make tough decisions,” Tara said gently. “My guiding rule is: Help those you can. There’s nothing you can do to help Alyssa right now, but the old lady…”

The sound of approaching sirens wailed through the night sky.

“Help for her and Gerald is on the way.” Tara held out the soaking wet bag of cat to him. “Go.”

Pete pressed a gentle kiss to Alyssa’s lips. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Then, taking the cat, he ran toward Tara’s van.

He did a bit of a double-take when he climbed into the vanilla-scented haven, but he quickly found the heat control and cranked it up, thinking the cat getting sick from the cold was one problem he didn’t need.

He sped through the streets, his mind a jumble of worry about Alyssa, Gerald, and Mildred. He was only a few blocks away from the Michelman house when he nearly collided with a speeding fire truck.

Since it was going in the same direction he was, he drove behind it, right up until the cop directing traffic. By then, the sinking feeling in his stomach was telling him that the fire truck driving the same route wasn’t a coincidence.

Parking his car, he ran toward the Michelman home.

Or at least what remained of the Michelman house.

At least half of it was engulfed in flames.

Alyssa faced three doors.

She’d seen the perp run down this alley, but now he was nowhere to be seen.

Gripping the gun at her side tighter, she glanced behind her, hoping the captain had caught up, but she was alone in the dark, dank alley.

She fought to control her breathing, straining to hear over the thundering of her heart, but she couldn’t hear anything that would tell her which door to go through.

Which door?

She knew she should wait for back-up.

But she also knew there wasn’t time.

Every second counted.

Deciding the logical choice would have been for her target to go through the first door he encountered, she raised her gun to the ready position and reached for the door handle.

It turned.

Slowly, carefully she pulled the door open. She could see some sort of industrial refrigeration units. She tiptoed inside, senses on alert, looking for any clue as to where he might be hiding.