Memory Lapse: A Slater Vance Novel (30 page)

When he reached the edge
of the woods backing the house, he stopped for several minutes and strained to
see in the darkness. He didn’t see or hear anything, so he slipped up to the
back of the house. He’d gone halfway when he stumbled upon Tiger lying
motionless on his back. Slipping to his knees, Slater put a hand to his neck
and exhaled when he felt a pulse – thin, but there. In the darkness, Slater
could make out very little and had to rely upon his sense of touch. Moving his
hands over Tiger’s body, Slater felt the sticky, wet feel of blood on his
shoulder as well as on his temple. It looked like the bullet had thankfully
only grazed his temple. Slater was concerned about blood loss, but couldn’t see
enough to know how much he’d lost.

Slater lifted the
unconscious man and dragged him to the cover of the woods. After slipping his
SIG into his waistband, he reached down and picked up Tiger’s rifle and
continued back towards the house. He slipped up to a window and peered inside.
He saw Ellis in the living room tied to one of the kitchen chairs. Her arms
were behind her and her head was bowed. He saw a man he assumed was
Sylus
Trusworth
standing in front
of her. He was saying something that Slater couldn’t hear.

Slater flinched when
Trusworth
reared back and slapped Ellis hard across the
face. Her head snapped to the side from the force. Slater now had a clear view
of her battered face. As bad as it had looked before, it was now ten times
worse. Her face had swollen so grotesquely that it was almost unrecognizable.
He wondered why he had her tied up and hadn’t just taken her.

Slater slipped back
behind the house to enter from the entrance furthest from them. He gotten
almost to the door when he felt the unmistakable pressure of a gun barrel
pressed firmly to the back of his head. He cringed when he heard the familiar
click of the safety being removed. A hand reached around him and took the rifle
from his unresisting hands.

A gruff voice, which
sounded as if he’d smoked several packs a day for many years, said
emotionlessly and very matter-of-factly, “Let’s move this party inside, shall
we? Place your hands on the back of your head with your fingers interlocked.”

Slater slowly complied
with the man’s instructions while his mind whirled with possibilities. When the
pressure of the gun increased, Slater moved forward at its silent command.
Opening the door, Slater stepped into kitchen of the small house and thought
about maybe slamming the door on the man behind him.

But it was almost as if
the man could read his thoughts, because he said, “Make no mistake, I will kill
you.”

Slater continued to move
forward until he was in the living room.
Sylus
Trusworth
turned when he heard them enter.
Sylus
was probably usually stylish in a European way. But
with the egg-shaped knots still visible on his head from being hit with the cue
ball, he looked extremely bizarre. He had bruising on one temple and a hideous
gash across one eyebrow. His hair was professionally short and dark and he wore
his sideburns a little longer than most. He grinned when he saw Slater enter
the room. His once-perfect white teeth gleamed against the olive hue of his
skin, but now two were missing, along with a busted and grotesquely swollen
bottom lip. He wore dark trousers and a long-sleeved white shirt, unbuttoned at
the neck, and its cuff rolled up midway up his forearms. Slater could see
specks of blood splattered on various parts of his otherwise pristine shirt.

Rubbing his hands
together and curling his lips into a devilish grin,
Sylus
Trusworth
said, “Ah, Mr. Vance, I presume? Now, we’re
getting somewhere.”

“
Trusworth
,”
Slater said tersely.

“I see you’ve met my
associate, Mr.
Justaine
. Although, I think you two
have met before if I’m not mistaken,”
Sylus
said with
a grin.

“Yeah, the first time
being when you sent your boy here to rape your own wife at my house. You’re a
real class act,
Sy
,
” Slater said contemptuously.

Slater watched
Sylus’s
eyes flash to
Nevin
Justaine’s
.
Nevin
merely shrugged
his shoulders as if to say,
I don’t know
what he’s talking about
.

Chuckling,
Sylus
reached and stroked Ellis’s face with his fingertips.
“Well, my dear, it would appear you have another fan somewhere out there.”

Slater glanced at Ellis
but she kept her head bowed.

“So you get off on
beating a woman?” Slater asked.

Sylus
walked slowly to Ellis and brushed
her hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear in a contrarily tender way.
“Wives have to be taught lessons sometimes, don’t you think, Mr. Vance?”

“I think the only thing
you’re teaching her is that you like to pick on someone weaker than yourself,”
answered Slater, intentionally trying to provoke
Sylus
.

Sylus’s
hand stilled at Slater’s words.
Lifting his eyes to Slater, his face broke into a huge grin. “Touché, Mr.
Vance. Maybe if you’d done a better job with your own wife, she might still be
alive today.”

Slater tensed at his
words. And without thinking through the sanity of his actions, he charged at
Sylus
Trusworth
. In a football
tackle, Slater slammed into
Sylus
at his midsection –
the center of his gravity. His lunge drove both men to the floor with
Sylus
being on the bottom. Slater quickly raised a fist and
punched him as hard as he could in his perfect white teeth. Blood began to flow
out of the busted lip. Instantly, Slater once again felt the gun pressed
against the back of his head.

In a calm voice,
Nevin
Justaine
said, “Please get
up, Mr. Vance, and assume the position.”

Once Slater was on his
feet, he interlocked his fingers behind his head.
Sylus
rose to his feet also and reached into his pocket and brought out a
handkerchief. Slowly he dabbed at the flow of blood at his lip. Slater glanced
at Ellis, who still had her head bowed.
Sylus
walked
slowly towards Slater until he stood within arm’s length and regarded him with
cold, dead, detached eyes.

“Tsk, Tsk, Mr. Vance,
that wasn’t very smart,”
Sylus
said mockingly.

In a flash,
Sylus
punched his fist into Slater’s midsection causing him
to double at the pain. While he was doubled-over,
Sylus
slammed an elbow into the back of Slater’s skull causing him to crash to the
floor.
Sylus
lifted a foot and kicked him hard in the
temple. Slater’s ear rang loudly and dark spots appeared before his eyes, which
got continually bigger until he lost consciousness.

When consciousness
returned slowly, Slater found he was tied to a kitchen chair like Ellis.
Gingerly, he strained against the bonds, seeking any weakness in them, but
didn’t find any. He felt a trickle of blood sliding down the side of his face.
And he still had the ringing in his ears. His already sore ribs now screamed in
agony, particularly with his hands being tied behind his back. Slowly lifting
his head, he found he was sitting beside Ellis. Her head was tilted in his
direction and she was peering at him through her badly swollen eyes. He saw her
lips begin to tremble and tears began to stream down her face. Slowly she
mouthed,
I’m sorry
.

Slater gave a small shake
of his head and said softly, “It’s not your fault.”

Without saying anything
else, she once again bowed her head. Slater glanced around but saw neither
Sylus
nor
Nevin
Justaine
. Once again he strained against the ties at his
wrists, but couldn’t budge them

He looked back to Ellis
for answers. “Why are you still here? What are they doing?”

Slowly lifting her head
to once again peer at him through the hideous slits, she mumbled through
equally hideously swollen lips, “They’re looking for Pet.”

Slater furrowed his brows
in confusion. “Where is she?”

Lowering her head again,
she whispered, “Where they’ll never find her.”

Slater listened intently
for moment, and not hearing them close, he began to rock his chair until he
fell over with a loud thump. He groaned at the jarring on his ribs. He
shimmied
his body back – ignoring the pain – until his bound
arms slid off the chair’s back. Once he’d cleared the chair, he lay for another
moment, getting the courage to pull his knees up to chest. He knew this
movement would put overwhelming pressure on his already screaming ribs. Taking
a deep breath and holding it, he brought his knees up and nearly blacked out
from the excruciating band of pain. Slowly letting out his breath, he slid his
bound hands down his body and slipped his feet into the circle of his arms,
effectively bringing his bound hands in front of him. He slowly lowered his
knees and panted against the pain.

Rolling onto his side, he
raised himself up onto his knees and climbed himself to standing using Ellis’s
chair. Looking down at his hands, he saw they were bound together with a
plastic zip-tie. Striding to the kitchen, he eased open a drawer until he found
a knife. Sawing awkwardly against the tie, it took him several agonizing
minutes to cut through the thick bonds. Once off, he patted his pocket for his
cell phone, but it was gone. He then headed back to Ellis.

He quickly cut her ties
off and moved to kneel in front of her. Even though he’d untied her, she still
remained as she was with the exception that her arms now hung limply by her
sides. He grabbed her arms and rubbed them to help bring the feeling back into
them. He reached for her hands and brought them up to his lips. He placed a
gentle kiss on her curled fingers. She lifted her head to gaze into his face.

“We need to get out of
here. Can you move?” he asked softly.

“I can’t leave Petra.”

“Where
is
she and I’ll get her.”

“She’s safe, they won’t
find her,” tears began to slide down her face again, and she whispered, “
he’s
going to kill her if he finds her. He said he would if
I ran. I can’t take that chance.”

“Okay, but we can’t stay
in here. Can you hide?”

Slowly she began to shake
her head. “I’m afraid. What if he finds me? He’ll be even angrier.” Her body
began to shake and her voice trembled, “I can’t take anymore… I just can’t. I’m
done, please understand. I’m sorry.”

He pressed his forehead
against hers for a few seconds. “I need to see where they are and find a
weapon. I’d feel better if you’d hide somewhere.”

Her lips began to tremble
and she whispered, “I can’t.”

Slater looked at the
gentle creature before him, beaten down both internally as well as externally,
and exhaled before replying, “Okay. Where is your cell phone?”

“I don’t know.”

Slater rose quickly and
began to search the house for a weapon and/or a phone. He wondered where
Justaine
had placed his phone and his SIG and the rifle
he’d taken from Tiger. Going through the kitchen, he opened all the cabinets,
but didn’t see them stashed there. Slipping up the staircase, he went room by
room looking for anything he could use. In the master bedroom, he found the old
shotgun his father had used for hunting, but couldn’t find any shells. Briefly
he considered using it as a prop – they wouldn’t know it wasn’t loaded, but
decided against it. Combat training 101 decreed not to pull a weapon unless you
were ready to use it. Moving on to the attic, he clicked on the light, hoping
they wouldn’t notice its sudden illumination. And there, to his unbelieving
eyes, was Tiger’s green army duffle bag filled with associated guns, a bowie
knife, and even two hand grenades. Slater wondered briefly how he’d managed to
smuggle those back home.

Pawing through the bag,
Slater placed one of the grenades in his pocket along with the knife. He looked
through the bag and selected the M-16 as his weapon of choice. He was relieved
to find it already loaded. He slid the strap of the rifle over his shoulder and
slipped out of the attic. As he climbed down the stairs, a thought occurred to
him. Going to the refrigerator, he opened the door and sure enough, there were
his handgun and cell phone.
How stupid of
him to not check there first,
he thought
.

Quickly he dialed
Bridge’s number.

After several rings, a
very groggy Bridge answered. “This better be damned important, Pretty-Boy.”

Quietly, Slater said,
“Bridge, I need your help.
Trusworth
and
Justaine
are here at the lake house in Arcadia Lakes and
are armed. I need you to send help. Can you get ahold of the local police for
me?
 
I need them here ASAP. Do you
understand?
ASAP.
There’s some serious shit going down
here. I don’t know how long I can contain this situation.”