Freezing Point (13 page)

A
fter seeing Casey off, Jesse had made the phone call to McCoffey to report an escalation in the danger she was in and request additional backup. Eric was being pulled from whatever task had taken him from her side today, and was on his way to keep her under surveillance. The news relieved Jesse, allowing him to work on his second sculpture of the day.

Was it his imagination? Or had he drawn the largest crowd yet? He decided people wanted to see a man on fire and right now, Jesse was definitely landing blows on the ice.

He couldn't afford to lose his sham of a job when his mission was so close to its culmination. With Casey safely out of harm's way for the moment, he could focus on the task and then take care of the guilty parties.

Tonight, he'd make sure to pay Carlos a visit and tell him to pull his dog off, that is, after beating the guy to a pulp for his near-fatal threats on Casey. Who else could it be?

Will Tannin was far from Southern California.

He couldn't recall being under this much stress for any assignment—covering the competition to keep his cover, while watching over Casey, while preparing for the takedown of the cash-smuggling ring to happen tomorrow night.

Miguel had passed him the date, time and delivery instruc
tions, which he'd passed to his team for a fully coordinated effort involving several agencies.

Considering the pressure he was under, Jesse feared he was about to fold in on himself, and he worried he'd forgotten the smallest of details.

And that's what got people killed.

By the end of the day, the crowd began to thin out. Jesse accepted that he'd not won, despite the job he'd done in the midst of chaos. When it came time to hang up his hat and move to another department within the agency, maybe he'd consider becoming an ice sculptor instead.

Yeah, right.

He almost smiled at the thought, but it was difficult to allow even the thinnest of grins under the circumstances. Still, he imagined himself in a completely different career, Casey by his side. Now
that
was enough to make him smile. If they could just make it through this, maybe they could have a future together.

That is, if Casey could ever forgive him once she found out the truth of his identity.

Miguel appeared in Jesse's line of vision and stepped over the rope.

“I came back to see if you needed help loading your equipment or what remained of the sculptures.”

“Thanks, Miguel. I hadn't thought ahead about clean-up, considering Ricky is sick. He planned that just right, didn't he?”

Miguel lifted his chin. “Too much on your plate.”

“You could say that,” Jesse said.

He started cording his tools, wishing he didn't have to clean the mess. He needed to find Knife Guy, and…he needed to hear Casey's voice. He imagined her sitting in her living room and putting the final touches on the article, while Eric dutifully kept vigil over the house.

“Say, where's your girlfriend? I figured she'd be stuck to you like glue.”

Did Miguel know about what happened? Was he in on the plan? Jesse nearly snarled at him. “I sent her home. I don't suppose you know she was almost killed today. Someone pushed an ice sculpture over.”

By the look in Miguel's eyes, Jesse knew the guy had no clue. “Jesse, I'm so sorry. Is she all right?”

Did he really not know what Carlos was capable of? “She won't be all right until I get my hands on Carlos.” When Miguel had invited Jesse to be delivery boy, he'd warned him that Casey could be in danger. Jesse thought begging for Miguel's help since Miguel knew he had a thing for Casey would be good enough. “Carlos has it out for her. He's behind the guy in the parking lot and what happened today.”

Miguel held up his hand. “Now, hold on…”

“No, you hold on.” If Jesse kept talking, he might just talk himself right out of being Miguel's delivery guy. He looked down at the floor, clenching his jaw. At least his reaction was in line with the criminal element, giving no indication he was under cover. “Listen, Miguel, you know I can't stand by and watch her get hurt.”

“No one is asking you to. If someone so much as touched my Elena…” Miguel's ire-filled words faded.

Jesse could only imagine the violent thoughts filling his mind.

“Do you need me to help you take her car to her then?” Miguel asked.

The chisel in Jesse's hand slipped to the floor. Blood roared in his ears. “What did you say?”

Miguel stood frozen and unresponsive, his mouth open.

Jesse took a step toward him. “Tell me, Miguel. Where did you see her car?”

“Parked where she left it this morning, right next to the truck.”

Jesse hopped over the rope and ran through the displays now being broken down. He hurried through the exit and into the parking lot.

On the top of the steps from the hotel, he spotted his truck and right next to it Casey's car.

Oh, no…

Casey, what did you do?

Jesse pressed his hand to his forehead and tugged his cell from his pocket. He had two calls from Casey, stating she'd come back to look for her camera. But she planned to wait for him in her car.

What a jerk he was.

He couldn't hear or feel his phone because of using the chain saw. This case would be his last, for more reasons than one.

He dialed her cell and got no answer. The call went to voice mail. “Casey, call me back right now. Where are you?”

He tried again, and then again. Then he called Eric. Man, did he have some words for him.

The guy didn't reply…something had happened. Jesse knew it, felt it deep inside.

A growl escaped. He dialed McCoffey.

A text interrupted him mid-call. Casey's number flashed on the caller ID.

Casey! Thank goodness….

He opened the text to read it.

 

Did you find the popsicle I left for you? It's your favorite flavor.

 

Casey opened her eyes, aware of nothing more than a dull, pounding ache in her head.

What happened?

Where was she? She sat up and surveyed her surroundings, dimly lit by a fluorescent light in the far corner of the room. Her breath came out in big white puffs. She shivered.

Was she…in a freezer?

No…she couldn't be…

But reality slammed her like an arctic blast. Somebody had left her in a freezer. Casey gripped a stainless-steel shelf to steady herself and stood up. Cold stung her fingers.

How long had she been here? Casey spotted the door and, fighting dizziness, made her way to it. She pressed the large L-shaped handle but it wouldn't budge.

Locked. A panic-filled tremor snaked through her body.

How could she be locked in a freezer? Casey shook the handle then began pounding the door. “Help! Somebody help me!”

Then a serious question accosted her. How long did it take for someone to die from hypothermia? Freeze to death? Suffocate?

Casey focused, trying to remember the details of the article she'd once written about hypothermia. Hikers had been found alive after trying to climb Mt. Hood, but some had died on the mountain.

Of what little she knew, there were three stages of hypothermia. Right now, she was only shivering a little and her hands were numb, but she wasn't confused and could move around.

That's good news.

If she started having trouble moving and was unable to focus, then she should start worrying…

Who was she kidding?

She needed to worry now!

And the bad news? Temperatures in these freezers were below twenty degrees, according to Jesse. She'd spent enough
time in the freezer with him to know she'd been here for a while, and without a real coat. All she had was her blazer. She just didn't know how long she had—minutes or hours or days. There were too many variables.

Maybe she could figure out where exactly she was by looking at the contents. Then again, she didn't care where she was, only how she could get out of the freezer.

She sent up a desperate, silent prayer.
Lord, please let it be someplace where Jesse can find me.
And not some random freezer where nobody would guess her whereabouts.

Okay, don't panic.

That Tannin! He wasn't going to get the best of her. Again, she summoned her resolve, fueling it with anger.

This had to be part of his scheme. He'd told her in no uncertain terms that she would die a slow, painful death. In a sense, knowing that you were going to freeze to death eventually was a painful way to die. At least at the moment she was suffering severe mental anguish. And what made it more painful? Casey wasn't willing to lie down and die.

With chattering teeth, she turned in a circle, looking for what, she didn't know.

Now that she thought about it, her movements were beginning to get sluggish. She rubbed her hands together.

Her gloves? She'd had them in her blazer pocket for the competition. Jamming her hands in her pockets, she searched for them.

Gone.
Casey groaned and stuck her hands under her arms. She was a little surprised that she'd been left with her blazer.

She searched the room to get a sense of where she might be and, with any luck, she could find a tool she could use to pry open the door or to communicate with someone on the outside that she was stuck inside. Unless…oh, no…what if Tannin or the parking-lot guy were just outside the door, waiting for her to die?

No. She wouldn't allow herself to think like that. Not if she were going to survive this.

She would focus on getting out alive. She'd focus on seeing Jesse's face again. And somehow, she'd take her life back from Will Tannin. She was done running.

Hadn't God sent Jesse to protect her? God was there for her, she knew in her heart.

Her positive thinking sounded great, but the fact was she was going to die if she didn't think of something quickly.

Pray hard.

 

Jesse's gut turned stone-cold. If he wanted to save Casey's life, he'd have to keep his wits and not allow fear and anger to cloud his judgment.

He replied to the text.

 

Where is she? What do you want?

 

Three seconds without a reply was too long.

There wouldn't be another text.

He didn't have time for this. If he understood the cryptic message, Casey had been left in a freezer somewhere to die. Of course, whoever did the deed was playing with him—either wanted him to find her dead, or wanted to send a warning. With her life on the line, he didn't have time to take chances or to play games.

Miguel came up behind him. Jessed whirled on him and grabbed his collar and shoved his face into Miguel's. “Where is she, Miguel? What has Carlos done with her?”

The man's face grew red and angry. “Watch who you're talking to, Jesse. I don't know where she is.”

Jesse released Miguel and straightened his collar. He believed him, but he wasn't so sure about Carlos. “I just got a text. She's in danger. I think she's in a freezer somewhere.”

Miguel looked stricken. “The hotel has freezers. Let's start there.”

“Good idea.” Without another word Jesse dashed through the door while at the same time he called McCoffey, keeping his distance from Miguel.

Someone had found Eric knocked unconscious near the Helmes' house. Jesse gave McCoffey Casey's new phone number so he could have someone triangulate the location, though Jesse doubted the phone was still in her possession, or that the location could be found in time—jumping through the legal hoops would take at least four hours and as long as twenty-four. That was too long.

Even so, finding the phone or where it was during the call could help them locate whoever was trying to kill her. McCoffey gave Jesse half an hour to find her on his own, after that, back-up would be called in to search for her, which could possibly blow the entire undercover operation.

But a life was at stake.

At the concierge desk, Jesse pounced on the bellhop. “Where's the hotel freezer? Show me.”

The guy stood there with his mouth hanging open.

“Now. It's a matter of life and death.” Jesse did not want to pull his ICE-agent spiel in front of Miguel, but he would in order to save Casey's life. “The kitchen, show me where the kitchen is.”

Looking intimidated, the guy motioned for them to follow. They made their way down a long corridor and soon entered the large commercial kitchen. Jesse didn't bother explaining his reason for being there to the protesting chefs.

“The freezer?”

The bellhop shrugged. “I showed you the kitchen. You'll have to ask one of them.”

“I have reason to believe that a woman has been left in your freezer to die!”

Disbelief and shock swept over faces like a wave.

“Over here.” Miguel had slipped past the kitchen staff. Without hesitation he opened the freezer and stepped inside, Jesse on his heels. Except for what one would expect to see in a freezer, it was empty.

His spirits plummeted.
Lord, where is she?

Miguel was right behind him.

“I think we should head back to the ice company,” Jesse said. It was the only other logical place he could think of.

“What makes you think she would be there, Jesse?”

The look on Miguel's face told Jesse that he didn't like where this was leading.

“Just a hunch, Miguel. I have no other ideas. You?”

Miguel's shrugged, his expression growing dark.

“I take that back. We can pray.”

Miguel almost laughed. “Whatever you say, Jesse, whatever you say. If you think God is going to listen to you, then be my guest.”

Jesse felt like Miguel had landed a double-punch in his gut. Miguel had spoken out loud Jesse's deepest fears—with the life he'd lived, regardless of knowing the truth, he'd never been able to reconcile the two. His life didn't reflect his faith—how could it? Working undercover was like living a lie, even though in the end, criminals were hopefully incarcerated and Jesse believed he'd accomplished something good. But could he count on the Almighty to listen to him when he felt like a walking contradiction?