Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #1 (34 page)

Had Hale also hacked into the NCIC database? He would have had to change the Social Security number and physical description on the warrant. Julian Hale disgusted Rick, but he had to respect his brilliance. When would they stop underestimating this guy?

Rick and Shelton sprinted toward the van. Over his shoulder Shelton called back to them, “We've still got a killer on the loose and more importantly, we've got a woman who's about to become a victim if we don't get to her first.”

* * *

Winter's fingers clung to the spring morning with damp, bone-chilling mist. Friday's beautiful sunshine had only been a tease. Spring in Seattle would arrive, but not anytime soon. It was running late this year. Stephanie ripped off a vicious bite of her bagel and trudged on through the cold morning. She loved being a teacher. Why was she so blue about going to school? Her heart wasn't in it this morning, but her crankiness probably had more to do with her conversation with Val than it had to do with not wanting to go to work. Stomping her feet to warm up her toes, she continued up the steep sidewalk to the school.

Only a week ago, she had been running from a bomb. She didn't know how to easily return to her mundane life as if none of it had happened. The adrenaline and adventure had made the days seem to fly by, but the closeness she had shared with Rick had made the single week feel ages long, as if Rick and Axle had always been a part of her life. She pulled off another chunk of bagel and shoved it into her mouth. She chewed aggressively, hating how much she missed them. Life had been so much easier when Rick Powell had been nothing more than a cute acquaintance.

Stephanie turned into the nearly empty staff parking lot. Only a few cars dotted the blacktop this early in the morning. She slipped off her backpack and dug through its contents in search of her keys. Not watching where she was walking, she collided with a man crossing the parking lot in the opposite direction.

The man helped her regain her footing. Tipping the brim of his ball cap down at her, he said in a hoarse voice, “I'm sorry about that. Didn't see you there.”

“That was my fault. I walked right into you,” Stephanie chuckled, smoothing her curls. She swung her backpack over her shoulder and looked directly at the stranger.

A pair of dull cornflower-blue eyes peered out from under the red hat brim, taking Stephanie's breath away. She stumbled back a step. “But...but you're...”

He grabbed her elbow and shoved the tip of a gun into the fleshy part of her stomach. Ice filled her veins. “Hello, Stephanie. Surprised to see me?”

He shoved her head into his chest. There was no one in the parking lot to hear her muffled screams.

EIGHTEEN

B
umping around in the backseat, Stephanie forced herself to recall everything she had ever heard or read about self-protection. It was all bits and pieces, nothing concrete. The one thing she did remember was that whatever it took—biting, screaming, kicking, scratching— it was crucial that a victim never allow herself to be taken into an attacker's car.

That was great in theory, but there hadn't been time to fight back before Julian's gun was thrust into her abdomen. Her mind had been busy turning over her conversation with Val, and because she thought Julian was in jail, Stephanie's guard had been lowered. Before her fight instinct could think about kicking in, Julian had already held a cloth over her face until everything went black. She woke up in the backseat of this car, her hands and feet bound in zip ties and a blindfold tied tightly around her eyes.

Stephanie wiggled in the seat, trying to find a comfortable position. She tasted blood in her mouth from gnawing on her inside cheek so hard.
I've got to get out of here.
Dread weighed heavy on her mind, making it difficult to strategize. Stephanie worked to toss off the feeling of doom. If she was going to survive this, she had to stay positive. Although she could feel the vibrations of the moving car, she couldn't see behind the blackness of the blindfold to determine what direction they were traveling, and she couldn't get a feel for how much time had passed. How long had she been passed out? The driver was so silent, she wasn't even completely sure that it was still Julian behind the wheel.

Faces of everyone she loved loomed in her mind. She could see them in such vivid detail, these people she had to see again, people who made her want to live, but of all the faces, it was Rick's that stood out the most.
I want a chance to know him, to love him.
Why was that clear to her now, when she couldn't act on it? It was too late.

She wondered what Julian planned to do with her. Stephanie curled into a fetal position. She wasn't afraid of being dead. She had hope. It was the process of dying, and the pain Julian Hale had in store for her, that terrified her the most.

* * *

The hours it took to drive back to Seattle from Bellingham had been pure torture for both men. They tried to reach her, but after it was clear Stephanie wasn't answering their calls, Rick and Detective Shelton had taken turns yelling at people through their cell phones. Eventually there was nothing left to do but rely on their friends in Seattle to find Stephanie until they could get there to help. They had settled into a mutual stony silence while Shelton obliterated every speeding law along I-5.

Finally, Shelton had dropped Rick off at the department and the two separated to start the search in their own way. Rick met Terrell at Stephanie's house.

“Anything?” he asked Terrell as he burst through her door. Terrell shook his head. A lump rose in Rick's throat at the look of sadness in his friend's eyes. Rick nodded. “Okay, I'll start looking in the back.”

Standing in the doorway of Stephanie's bedroom, Rick choked on a sob, forcing himself to swallow his grief. Her bedroom reminded him of her—feminine and cozy, but clutter-free. A chilly breeze tossed gauzy blue curtains around her open window. He pulled the curtains aside to see that the window had been left open a crack. Had Hale ever been inside her house? Rick knew he had spied on her through the webcam, but he wondered if Hale had ever come inside her home. Nausea rolled at the thought.

They were all fools. And he blamed himself the most. Until he had seen Hale behind bars with his own eyes, he should never have let Stephanie out of his sight. Hale had lulled them all into a false sense of security, and Rick had fallen for it right along with the rest of them. After all of the technology tricks that Hale had pulled off this week, why hadn't any of them thought that he might still be manipulating them? They had ignored the precedent, and Stephanie had disappeared because of their complacency.

Hale probably hadn't snatched Stephanie from her house. Val and the kids were the last to see her after she said goodbye to them and left for work, and they had still been here when the school called looking for her. It was more likely that he had picked her up somewhere along her walking route to the school. A girl at a bakery Stephanie had stopped at remembered selling her a bagel, but that was where her trail ended.

Rick leaned against the door frame. Maybe being here was nothing more than his need to feel close to her, but they had no clues yet to work from. They needed to start somewhere, and her room was as good a place to start as any. He stepped across the threshold feeling as if he were entering a sanctuary.

At her desk, Rick riffled through her papers and books, doubting he would find anything helpful, but doing a thorough job of it, anyway. He would never forgive himself if he missed something important. He spotted a scrapbook in the hutch above the desk. He pulled it down and sat down on her bed. Stephanie had hand-lettered the word
Liberia
across the entire page and then filled in the letters with bright colors and textures. He didn't know she was so artistic. He mourned for all of the things he didn't know about her yet. Was she even still alive?

He flipped through the pages, his eyes hungry to find her face. In every picture, the poverty of both the country and the people photographed was evident, but that wasn't what Rick noticed. Instead, he noticed the beauty and the joy, especially present in the photos that had Stephanie in them. In his favorite picture she smiled wide, dressed in a brightly patterned dress. Her hair was wrapped up in a head scarf, and she leaned against an African woman wearing a matching outfit. The two women were so different yet there was an evident sisterhood between them. Their huge smiles spoke of a love he knew nothing about, a love he wanted to know.

Stephanie! Where are you? How do I find you?

He gasped for air, his own powerlessness suffocating him. It was becoming an all-too-familiar emotion. The first time had been the night he was stabbed and left for dead. His own mortality and lack of control over his life had been so clear as he bled onto the pavement. He had felt the same way on Wednesday listening to Axle's pain-filled howls by the river, hating how helpless he was to make it better for the dog he loved. And each time Julian Hale had been successful at threatening Stephanie's safety without being caught, Rick had been humbled. He might wear a gun and a badge, but he wasn't in charge. He couldn't control life no matter how much he might want to, and he had absolutely no idea how to save Stephanie now.

He closed the book and tossed it aside onto her bed. Sliding off the bed, he hit his knees
. Lord, help.

* * *

“Home sweet home.” Julian's voice chimed from the front seat. So it was still Julian with her. She heard the engine turn off.

Stephanie stiffened. This might be her only chance left to slip out of the zip ties and make a run for it. She wiggled and writhed, trying anything to loosen their grip, but nothing worked.

The back passenger door opened next to her head, and she felt the cool air on her face. “Where are you taking me?”

“Now what fun would it be if I told you everything? Let's see if you can guess.” Amusement edged Julian's voice as he taunted her.

“I'm tired of your games,” she told him.

“Well, that's too bad, because the games are only beginning. I'm not done having fun yet,” he said.

His arms slipped under her armpits, yanking hard. Her eyes and arms were useless but she blindly whipped her bound legs around like a mermaid tail, trying to make it as difficult as possible to drag her. He had gotten her into a car, but now that she was outside it, she was fighting back with everything that she could throw at him.

Stephanie screamed, “Help me! Someone help...”

But Julian was prepared. Intense bursts of electricity coursed through her body, paralyzing her. She couldn't move or speak; she could only feel the pulsing pain.

“You like that?” Julian asked her, the energy level increasing in his voice that had been lacking only moments ago. “That was fifty-thousand volts of electricity. You took it pretty well, Stephanie. I'm impressed.”

She wished for her eyesight so she could anticipate the next shock and prepare herself for the pain that could come again on his next whim. Behind the blindfold she wouldn't have any warning.

“What was that?” she asked him.

“That, my dear, was a Taser. I'm sure your boyfriend has one on his gun belt.”

Stephanie flung her head in the direction of Julian's voice, tightening her body to prepare for more pain. “I'm going to leave these barbs attached to you. That means I can fire again anytime I need to. Now,” Julian asked her, “would you like another round of electricity or are you done fighting me?”

“I'm done,” she whimpered.

Julian dragged her tied-up body indoors, her legs bumping over gravel and grass and finally up concrete steps. She heard a door slam behind them before he dumped her onto a soft couch. She strained to hear anything. She inhaled deep breaths through her nose, searching for any scent that might clue her in to where Julian had taken her. Nothing struck her as familiar.

“I'm going to remove the blindfold now, and you will remain calm or I will shock you again, is that understood?”

The agony from the jolts still fresh, Stephanie nodded her agreement. Julian Hale would not take her out without a fight, but for now she didn't mind avoiding further pain in order to get her sight back. If she could see, she would have all of her senses to help her plan.

She felt Julian's fleshy fingers cold against her skin as he unwound the fabric. The blackness receded, but the pressure from the tight blindfold had blurred her vision, making it difficult to get her bearings even with it off. Lights were on, but she sensed it was still daylight, afternoon maybe? She twisted her head around looking for visual cues to where Julian had taken her.

“Where are we?” she asked him.

“You don't recognize where we are? Interesting...” He stretched the word out as if her ignorance genuinely fascinated him. Her vision was still a little blurry, but from the couch he had tossed her on, she could see a flat-screen TV and a bookshelf. The room was masculine and boring, some kind of bachelor pad.
This place needs a woman's touch.

Julian sat on the ottoman in front of her. His thin ash-blond hair fell in straight bangs that looked like he used a ruler to cut them. She could see his bald scalp through his wide, precise part. Pale hair, washed-out eyes, pallid skin, and monochromatic clothing—Julian Hale's appearance was as lifeless as his eyes.

“Are you going to tell me where we are?” she asked him again.

“I answered that question outside. If I tell you where we are, what fun would that be?” Julian stood and slapped his thighs. “Well, why don't you settle in and search for some clues while you wait? I need to have a little chat with your boyfriend.”

“He's not my boyfriend,” she yelled at his retreating back.

* * *

Terrell tapped on the wall of Stephanie's bedroom. “Hate to interrupt a brother in prayer, but we've got something.”

Rick scrambled to his feet. “What did you find?”

“I didn't
find
anything, but Julian Hale just called the department claiming responsibility for Stephanie's disappearance.”

Rick froze. “Did he say where he's holding her?” If they knew where she was, they might be able to rescue her. Hope swirled in his stomach and chest, wanting him to grab hold.

“No. He didn't mention location.” Terrell ran a hand across his hair.
Now what?
“How much experience do you have with hostage negotiation, Rick?”

“None,” Rick answered. “Why?”

Terrell scratched his head. “Better learn quick, because Hale made it clear. He speaks with no one but you.”