Exposure (26 page)

The little girl only cried louder.

At the next corner Lorraine braked hard. Tammy slid forward in her seat, caught by her seatbelt.

“Mommy, stop it!”

Lorraine edged the van forward. Leaning as far toward the windshield as possible, she peered to the right down the long side of the building. No car. No lights. The Huff entrance, at the other end of the lot and to the left, was empty. Whoever turned in had passed building two. The driver would now be between the parallel storage buildings.

“I want Belinda!” Tammy threw herself across the console as far as the belt would let her, little hands pummeling Lorraine’s shoulder. Surely she was loud enough to be heard. Lorraine wanted to clamp both hands over her mouth.

“Be quiet, Tammy!”

She swerved around the corner and sped down the length of building two.

At the bottom she slid to another stop. Tammy pitched forward again. Her seatbelt caught with a snap. She let out a wail.

Lorraine rolled forward until she could see around the corner.

No one there.

It was him. Had to be. Martin’s killer, maybe some of the other robbers, skulking in the night to unit seven to clean out their millions.

Lorraine threw a wild look toward the Huff entrance. She could make it without being seen — as long as those men stayed up by unit seven. She wanted to roll down her window and listen in the darkness, but Tammy shrieked on. One crack of the window, and they’d hear her.

Lorraine’s chest tightened. By now they would be finding the broken hasp. They’d see Belinda.

“Mommyyy!”

Gritting her teeth, Lorraine whipped the wheel toward the entrance and hit the gas.

Every second seemed a lifetime. She wanted to screech out of there but couldn’t risk being heard. The van was old, but at least its engine ran quietly.

She checked in the rearview mirror, seeing only the long stretch of concrete leading up to the apartment. It would be the last glimpse of the life she’d had with Martin.

The Huff entrance jumped into view on her right. Barely slowing to check traffic, she darted into the road.

Lorraine accelerated to the next block, then swerved in a right turn. Her muscles hardened to granite. Any minute she expected a car to materialize behind her, shots to ring out.

At the next block she veered left.

Then right again. Then left.

She kept up the jagged pattern, her mind clamped down, all thoughts on hold.

Tammy cried herself out and lay back in her seat, panting. “You
didn’t
get
Belinda
.” Her voice trembled with exhaustion and bitterness. “You lied to me, you said you’d get her, but you
didn’t
.”

Lorraine’s throat ached. What had she done to her daughter this night? What would they do for the rest of their lives?

“I’m so sorry. I’ll buy you another bear.”

“I don’t
want
another bear.”

At the edge of town Lorraine spotted a sign for the freeway. She sped up the on ramp, not knowing, not caring which way they were headed.

Not until a few exits had passed did she see they were traveling south.

Kaycee half fell from the SUV, her pulse a hard, steady grind. By the roots of her hair Rodney pulled her up. Needles dug through her scalp. She gasped and staggered, getting her bearings. Through the blackness she could barely make out trees all around her. Vague dual tracks ribboned behind the car’s wheels, soon disappearing into the night. Before her slumped an abandoned cabin with sagging porch and soulless windows.

Rodney dug his fingers into her arm. She flinched. “Where’s Hannah?”

“Inside.”

“There’s no lights in there.” The thought of a young girl in the dark by herself made Kaycee want to shriek. Was Hannah tied up? Hurt?

Rodney pushed Kaycee’s back. “Go.”

She tripped up the two porch steps and went down on one knee. Rodney lugged her upright. At the battered entrance he fished in his pocket for a key.

When he pulled the door open its hinges moaned.

They stepped into greater darkness, dispelled only from a wedge of light oozing beneath a closed door on the left. Kaycee blinked, her eyes adjusting. They stood in a sullen and tangled room, a ragged couch, table and chairs at angles, a bookcase of broken, emptied shelves. A bare bulb hung from the ceiling. To the back on the right lay a semblance of a kitchen. The place smelled of must and dirt and a thick heaviness.

Rodney walked toward the closed door. “Hannah.”

A pause. The silence vibrated in Kaycee’s ears.

“Yeah?”

Kaycee’s breath caught in her throat. The familiar voice sounded so small and frightened. She flung herself toward the room, palms flat on the barrier between her and the girl. “Hannah!”

“Kaycee?”

Uneven footsteps, a creak in the floor. A thump hit the other side of the wood. “Kaycee! I want to go
home
.” Hannah burst into tears.

Rodney grabbed Kaycee’s elbow and pulled her back. She swiveled around and launched a fist at his face. He caught her wrist and bent her arm downward. Pain shot through the joint.

“Aah!” Kaycee aimed a knee at his groin. He jerked to his right, slapped both hands on her shoulders and shoved her against the wall. Her head rebounded with a stunning thud. Both eyelids fluttered.

Rodney jumped back and whipped out his gun. The thing had the longest barrel she’d ever seen.
A silencer?

“Hit me again, and I’ll shoot your arm.” His words spat venom. “I’ll still get what I want out of you, but you’ll wish you’d done it without the pain.”

Kaycee glared at him, chest heaving and teeth clenched. Hatred like she’d never known swirled acid through her veins. “There was blood in the road where she disappeared. Is it hers?”

Hannah’s sobs wheezed from the room. “Kayceeeee.”

The girl was so close, just a few inches of wood away. The thought snatched air from Kaycee’s lungs. She reached out a shaking hand and pressed it against the door. “I’ll get you . . . out of there, Hannah. Promise.”

Her head throbbed. Both knees jellied. Kaycee fought to keep upright.

Rodney grunted with disgust. “She fell and scraped her knee. I haven’t touched her. Only
you
can keep it that way.”

The jelly liquefied. Kaycee slid down the wall to the floor.

“Hannah!” Rodney smacked the door. The girl gulped mid-sob. “Tell her what I told you.”

Kaycee tilted her head up. Barely lit from the crack of light beneath the door, Rodney’s face looked like calcified wood, the lines in his forehead cut deep, bleak shadows for eyes. He held the gun ready, finger on the trigger and pointed at the door.

The hatred eddied and sizzled. What would be left of Hannah’s spirit after the horror this monster had put her through? As if she hadn’t already lost enough.

“Hannah!” Rodney kicked the door. Kaycee jumped.

“Give him what he wants!” Hannah screamed. “Give him what he wants, and he’ll let me go home!”

Hood-eyed, Rodney smirked at Kaycee. Rage injected her limbs with energy. “I will, Hannah. I will.” She pressed both hands against the floor and pushed to her feet.

Rodney’s lips coiled into a smile — and Kaycee knew his promises were lies. She stared straight into his heartless eyes — and from a lifetime ago Mark’s voice echoed in her head. “
Most people don’t have the courage . . .”

A strange, sudden calm radiated through Kaycee. This man had stalked her because of her columns, her vulnerability. What did
he
fear?

Kaycee licked her lips, her gaze still locked with his. “Hannah, just relax now, okay? Everything’s gonna be fine.”

More lies. The truth? Rodney had already killed two policemen and maybe Mrs. Foley. He’d kidnapped two people. Now she’d seen his face. So had Hannah. They could identify him. Rodney had everything to lose and nothing to gain by letting them go.

Once he got whatever it was he wanted, he’d kill them both.

Nico stared at the broken hasp in disbelief. He twisted around, his gaze cutting to the stuffed animal he’d seen lying on the concrete as he pulled up.

No.
No!

He folded over and grabbed the storage-door handle. Yanked it up. The door rolled open with a
skreek
.

Nico peered into the dimness, seeing no shapes. Nothing.

He whipped a slim flashlight from his pocket and thrust it on. Shone the beam into the unit.

Empty.

Nico spat curses. His knees turned to water, and he sat down heavily. The flashlight smacked against the concrete.

Mind reeling, he stared at the four blank walls.

Had Bear done this? Had he sent Denny and his men here for the money? If so, this was a setup. Nico’s life would end tonight with a bullet to his head.

Snatching up the flashlight, he dragged to his feet. He stumbled over to the stuffed animal lying on its face. Nico picked it up and turned it over. A teddy bear. His mouth tightened. Was this some sarcastic message from the underboss?

What else could it be?

Nico swiveled around, searching the lot for a dark figure. Who’d be the one to whack him? Denny? Dom?

No one was there.

Bear wouldn’t play games like this. If he wanted Nico whacked, the deed would be done by now. Denny or somebody would have been in that storage unit, waiting for him to roll up the door.

Nico gaped again at the bear in his hands. A sudden insane thought popped into his head. Slowly his eyes lifted to glare at Martin Giordano’s apartment.

But Giordano hadn’t known the money was here. He
hadn’t known
. So how could his wife?

Nico threw the bear down and strode across the concrete.

This was foolish. Desperate hope. Giordano’s wife wouldn’t be in that apartment. News reports said she was hiding somewhere tonight. The apartment wouldn’t even be cleaned up yet. And if she had taken the money, home was the last place she’d go. But pure vengeance drove Nico. He so wanted to catch her sleeping in bed, the kid too. He would strangle them both with his bare hands.

Nico passed unit eight, nine, ten, his heart picking up speed, anger drilling his spine. By unit eleven he was running.

He slid to a stop outside the apartment, rocked back on one foot, and kicked the door with all his might. Wood crunched. He kicked again. The door flew open.

Nico stormed inside.

Arms out, feeling his way in the dimness, he tore across the small living room, flashlight turned off. At the top of the hall his foot slipped. He righted himself and switched on the flashlight.
Blood
.
Footprint.

Nico didn’t care. Rage blazed inside him, burning away all caution. He just wanted to find Martin’s wife. By some pretzel twist of fate she’d be here. She
had
to be.

He rounded the corner into the first bedroom and stabbed the bed with a beam of light. It was unmade and empty. He jumped across to the other side, checking the floor behind it. He looked in the closet. Nobody.

Cursing, he left the bedroom and ran to the second. He looked over every inch of it. Then the bathroom.

They were gone. With
his
money.

How could she have done this? How could some stupid
woman
outsmart him like this?

Nico drew a shaking hand across his forehead. His life was over. A bullet to the head would be merciful. Bear would wrench him limb from limb.

He stumbled from the apartment on weak legs.

Back on the pavement, he grasped his head in his hands, the flashlight hard against one temple. He couldn’t go to the warehouse empty-handed. Couldn’t go home.

Had she taken the money to the police?

That made no sense. She’d have told the police it was here. They’d inform the FBI. G-men would be swarming this place.

Nico dropped his arms to his sides and stared up the concrete at the stuffed animal.

How long ago had she been here? How much lead time did she have?

She’d have to be traveling in a large vehicle. A car could never hold all those boxes.

His blood boiled, fueled by panic. Nico closed his eyes, forcing himself to go over the names of his friends on the Atlantic City police force. Who was working nightshift? How long until he could get a license plate?

Spewing curses, Nico set off running toward the van.

With one fluid motion Rodney slid his long-barreled gun back into his waistband.

He flipped a wall switch, and the bare bulb above their heads flushed on. Kaycee squinted in the sudden light. For a moment he surveyed her with relish, a lion considering its prey. He walked over to a dusty square table and pulled it beneath the bulb, its legs sputtering across the bare wood floor. “Get a chair.” He gestured with his chin as he pulled one up to the table for himself.