Forget Me Not: A Novel (Crossroads Crisis Center) (16 page)

That was as close to an apology as she was going to get, and she’d give him the gracious exit and accept it. “I’m up to it.”

A man built like a wrestler came barreling toward them through the woods. Susan slid between the two men. “Run, Ben! Run!”

“No, it’s okay.” He stepped around to her side. “It’s Mark—my security chief.”

Mark Taylor stopped next to her and looked at Ben. “Get inside now. We’ve had a perimeter breach.”

“Oh no. No. They’re here, Ben.” Susan swallowed a shriek. “They’re here!”

Edward scanned the woods. Two lanky teens ran full out across Three Gables’ sweeping lawn, heading for the cover of the reservation woods that backed up to it.

From the passenger’s seat, Harry pointed through the trees. “Who’s that guy?”

“Mark Taylor,” Edward said, looking out through the windshield, parked curbside. “Brandt’s security chief.”

“He’s going to catch them.”

The teens wore baseball caps with something strapped just above the
bills, and they were less than thirty seconds ahead of Taylor. “Harry, move.”

Harry grabbed the wire cutter from the floorboard, tumbled out, and scrambled through the greenbelt brush to Three Gables’ perimeter fence, then cut through the chain-link.

An alarm blared. Taylor stopped dead in his tracks, then touched his ear—as if listening to someone on his staff give him the location of the breach, then he doubled back, heading for the fence.

Harry dove into the car and tossed the cutter onto the backseat. “Go! Go! Go!”

Edward laid on the horn, stomped the gas. The Jag shot down the street.

In the rearview, he saw Taylor reach the fence and round the corner.

“There they are.” Harry pointed.

The teens ran out of the woods and down the sidewalk to a black Lexus. Recognizing it, Edward hit the brakes hard and tucked in behind a white van.

Harry lurched forward and grabbed the dash. “What are you doing, man?”

“Look, the Lexus.”

Harry craned to see. “Van’s blocking me. What’s he doing?”

Had to be cameras or sensors on the caps. “My guess is he just used those kids to check out Brandt’s perimeter security, which tells us—”

“He’s going to make the hit here.”

Edward spared Harry a glance, keeping the two teens in his peripheral vision. “Apparently Three Gables is going to be ground zero.”

“Oh, man.” Harry whacked a closed fist against the side door panel. “You knew this was gonna happen. That’s why you had me trip the alarm.”

“Actually, it’s not. Taylor knew the minute the perimeter was breached. I didn’t have to tell him.”

“Yeah, he was already chasing the kids.” Harry frowned, furrowing the skin between his brows. “Then why did I trip the alarm?”

“Because Taylor didn’t know this was going to be ground zero,” Edward said. “And he doesn’t stand a chance against the forces coming against them.”

“Come on, man. He’s supposed to be good.”

“I never said he wasn’t good. The man has a background in Special Operations.” He was better than good. “I said he didn’t stand a chance against those coming.”

“Why not?”

Edward cocked his head. “He’s flawed in away they’re not.”

“Flawed?” Harry guffawed. “If he’s Special Ops, the man’s got a chest full of medals.”

“Which proves my point.” Edward stiffened, seeing Paul Johnson pull out into traffic and drive away. “Unfortunately, his is a problem that can’t be fixed.”

“I wish you’d just say what you have to say.” Harry glared over at Edward. “What’s Taylor’s flaw?”

Cranking the engine, Edward swiveled his gaze to Harry. “He’s honest.”

That dropped Harry’s jaw. He thought a second, then said, “That could get in the way, but it doesn’t mean Taylor won’t one-up them.”

Edward took the break in traffic to pull out onto the road. “Oh, but it does, my friend. It really does.”

“There you go again. Just say it.”

“He’s honest,” Edward repeated. “They’re not.”

Harry stilled. “They’ll do anything. He won’t.”

“Exactly.”

“So we’re helping Taylor now too?” Surprise rippled through Harry’s voice.

Edward hiked a shoulder. “If we don’t, would you rather take a needle or a bullet?”

“Got it.” Resignation slid down over Harry’s face. “I’ll stick to your plan.” He motioned to the two teens on the sidewalk, walking past. One’s T-shirt showed a distinct imprint. “They’re packing, Edward.”

“They sure are.” The sorry jerk had hired two kids to do the hit. “Let’s go.”

“Oh, man, Edward. I don’t want to take out two kids.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Harry knew Edward. He should know he’d never deliberately hit a kid. Christopher had been an unfortunate accident—one that still haunted Edward.

“Ah, we’re going to beat the—”

Edward didn’t want to hear it. “We’re going to discourage them from their current paths of activity and give Brandt and the woman a gift.”

“That helps Taylor. Got it.”

He pulled to the curb, left the engine running. “Ready?”

“Let’s go.”

The teens didn’t know what hit them.

But they felt it—and then they fought hard. Being no match for grown men, their resistance was short-lived. Soon both boys were out cold in Edward’s backseat. He drove back around the corner straddling Three Gables and hugged the curb where he had been parked earlier. “Let’s get them out there.”

Rushing, he and Harry dumped the teens onto Brandt’s property just inside the cut fence.

Harry dropped a kid on the ground. He was still out. “I’ve got to cut back on my smoking, man.” Huffing, he swiped grit from his hands.

“Worry about that later.” Edward hustled back to the car, grabbed the binoculars from the center console. As soon as he settled in his seat, he shoved them at Harry, then pulled away from the curb.

“The kids saw who they were fighting, Edward. They’ll describe us to Brandt.”

“They’d better. Otherwise Brandt and the woman won’t know we stopped something going on against them.”

Harry parked an elbow on the window. “The cops will know somebody’s scoping out security—”

“Stretch your mind, Harry.” Edward hung a left onto Highway 98 and headed toward Panama City. “They’ll know someone else is trying to kill her and we alerted them.”

“Yeah.” Harry grunted. “Yeah, and even if we get popped for jacking her—”

“That would be kidnapping her. We jacked the car.”

“Whatever. We can say we were trying to protect her.”

“Yes.” Edward allowed himself the hint of a smile. “And it’ll be the truth.”

“Man, you are something,” Harry said, then sobered. “Remind me never to cross you.”

Edward’s humor faded. “Cross me and I won’t need to remind you.”

Fear flashed in Harry’s eyes. “You threatening to kill me, man?”

“Absolutely not. You’re my partner.”

“Sounded like a threat to me.”

“Harry, are you planning on crossing me?” Edward pulled into a coffee shop drive-through.

“No.” Harry sounded as flustered as he looked. “No way, man.”

“Then neither of us has anything to worry about, do we?”

Harry squinted, slid Edward a wary look. “No, we don’t have anything to worry about.”

Edward relaxed, satisfied. They both had plenty to worry about, but he hoped those issues could be postponed until after they’d dealt with Chessman and his legion of henchmen. Johnson wasn’t the worst of them, but he was bad enough.

So was the woman who could bury them all.

T
ires squealed at the west boundary of Three Gables, on the street paralleling the property. Without thinking, Susan ran toward the sound.

Ben followed her. “Stop! Stop!”

She should stop, but every instinct warned her to run, warned her that running would give her a much-needed answer.

Twilight flirted with deep shadows in the greenbelt woods beyond the landscaped lawn. Branches and spiny bushes scraped her legs and slapped her arms. A twig caught her right across the neck. She swatted it aside and ran on—and nearly tripped over a teenage boy sprawled on the ground. She dropped down and checked. He had a pulse, but he was out cold. Another boy lay a short distance away.

“Ben! Hurry!” She scanned the street and caught a glimpse of a red Jag. Inside, she saw one of her abductors, the hooded-sweatshirt guy Mel had described as the crisis center bomber. “Ben!”

He caught up to her, breathing hard. “Why did you take off like that? You heard Mark. You could have been hurt or even killed.”

“They’re gone, and I’m fine.” She stepped aside. “Check that boy. This one is breathing.”

Ben went to the second teen, bent down, and checked him. “He’s alive.” Using his cell, he hit speed dial. Seconds later, he said, “Mark,
where are you?” He paused, then said, “Forget the reservation. The intruders are here. Two teenage boys. They’ve been beaten unconscious.” Another pause, then, “Where the fence was cut.” He grimaced. “Better get an ambulance.”

“It was my abductor, Ben. At least, the passenger was, and they were in the Jag.” She wished Ben had seen it too.

Sweat beaded on his brow. “Why would your abductors beat up two kids and dump them here?”

“I don’t know. But maybe the teens do.”

Ben looked at the kids, then back at her. “Why did you run here? Mark told us there’d been a breach.”

“I had a feeling that if I followed the screeching tires, I’d find answers.”

“A divine push kind of feeling?”

“Yes.” She shrugged. “You might not want to hear it. I know you’ve sworn off God—don’t look shocked. Peggy inadvertently told me, explaining your behavior toward me.”

“I haven’t sworn off God. I no longer believe He exists.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said and meant it. “That’s a hard way to live.”

“Frankly, it is. But reality is what reality is. It’s honest. You live with it.”

Angry and betrayed. If she’d lost her family, she might feel the same way—short-term. But she hoped she’d realize that was a misguided and lonely way to live. Three years was pushing the bounds on short-term—at least in her view. Maybe that’s why God had brought her into Ben’s life and told her to be patient with him: to help him find his way back—to life and to God.

Having a better grip on her instructions, she didn’t push. “You’ll work through it your way in your own time, I’m sure.” Pushed, his shield would become a brick wall. Ben didn’t need to hear about faith; he needed to see
it in action. “Me, I know this was a divine push—and the proof is right at your feet.”

To Ben’s credit, he didn’t argue.

A twig snapped.

Susan spun toward the sound and saw a flashlight beam sweeping the woods. Memories of Clyde Parker and the crippling fear she’d felt on seeing his flashlight’s beam flooded her. Every muscle in her body tensed. She stood rigid, still.
Give me strength. Please, give me strength
.

Mark stepped over a downed branch and dropped to examine the boys. One groaned. The other was still out.

“Someone worked them over pretty good. Wake up.” Mark roused one, then the other with gentle shakes and a loud voice. “Who are you?”

Neither spoke.

Mark’s tone turned gruff. “Look, you’re going to jail for destroying the fence and trespassing. If you want any chance of avoiding the worst you can get, you’d better start talking right now.”

“Jason Marsh,” the one closest to Susan said.

“Shut up!” the other kid shouted.

Mark turned to Ben. ““Why don’t you take Jason over to the fence and have a little chat with him.”

Ben looked down at the boy. “Can you walk, Jason?”

“Yeah.” He pulled himself to his feet. “I can take a punch.”

“What about you?” Mark asked the reluctant one with blond hair and wide eyes. “You okay?”

“Ticked off. Only a coward hits you from behind.”

Susan muttered, “It doesn’t hurt less when they hit you head-on. Trust me on that one.”

The boy blinked up at her. “They do that to your face?”

“Yeah, they did. Only after they beat me up, they cracked me in the
head with a rock and left me for dead.” She gave him a steady look. “You got off a little better.”

The boy sucked in a shuddered breath. “Whoa.”