The Drowning Man (26 page)

Trent pushed up one blind at his kitchen window and scanned the parking lot. No sign of the cops. No unfamiliar cars. He hadn't lied to Woods. Not exactly.

And he'd waited long enough. He grabbed his keys off the counter.

He sat behind the wheel of his truck and said a quick prayer just in case anyone up there was listening. He would get Lora and Nicole back or die trying. He had to. He loved them both. And he was responsible for the danger they were in now.

He closed his eyes and took a breath. Nicole was such a good kid. The thought of something happening to her because of him was unbearable.

And Lora. Did she even know how much she meant to him, how much he loved her? How she'd saved him in every way possible? He'd never actually said the words to her. What if he never got the chance? The thought of never seeing her face again made his entire body ache.

Then there was Nate. His brother had already sacrificed so much for him. He could not let him down now.

He slammed the truck into drive.

He had to make things right.

It had been quiet. Too quiet. Lora had explored every inch of the bedroom she and Nicole were in but found nothing that promised escape. There was no window and only the one door that was securely locked from the outside, nothing she could use as a weapon. Still feeling the effects of the blow to her head, she'd sat back down to asses the situation.

Nicole sat next to her on the cot, her head against Lora's shoulder. Even if it cost her life, she had to find a way to save this child. Lora absently stroked her hair, wondering if the helpless feeling in the pit of her stomach was anything like what Trent had felt during his days of captivity, when he'd been the one at their mercy.

Heavy footsteps approached the door. Lora tensed and Nicole scooted even closer to her.

The door was jerked open and Simon's huge body filled the open space.

“Look who's awake,” he said with a menacing smile. “It's time for the final act.”

He pulled a semi-automatic pistol from his waistband. “Here's how we're going to do this.”

He took a step across the room and yanked Nicole by the hair towards him, putting a handkerchief across her nose and mouth. Her small body jerked then went still. Lora could smell the faint sickly sweet scent of chloroform. Simon grabbed a blanket off the floor and wrapped it around Nicole's limp form.

“No,” Lora took a step towards him.

He focused his attention back on Lora, made sure she could see the gun aimed at Nicole. “The car is parked in the alley. I'll have my gun pointed at her through this blanket the entire time. You make one wrong move and the kid loses its head.”

The hardest thing Lora ever had to do was follow along behind Simon as he held Nicole in his arms, a gun to her head, and knowing there wasn't a damn thing she could do. There was no doubt in her mind that Simon was capable of shooting a child. If she made a move on him and he retaliated, she was fine with the risk to her own life. But she couldn't risk Nicole's life.

What she didn't understand was where he was taking them and why. She did know, without a doubt, that Simon's plan had something to do with Trent.

Her heart clenched as she pictured his face, wondered if she'd ever see it again. What would losing her and Nicole do to him? Would he be able to overcome the blame? No. It couldn't end like this. She wouldn't let it. She'd been stupid to fight so hard against what she felt for him, but goddamn, she loved that man. It was all too clear now.

She waited, looking for any opportunity, any opening to try and gain the upper hand, but Simon was too good. He had thought of everything, every possible contingency and she had no choice but to allow her feet and hands to be tied up, as she lay next to Nicole, in the trunk of his car.

Her eyes scanned the interior of the small space. The car was too old to have a trunk release lever inside. And Simon had reinforced the area where the brake lights were so there was no way she could kick them out or disable them. No way to signal for help.

Lora cocooned her body around Nicole's in the smothering darkness as the car lurched into motion. She briefly wondered where Caroline was, if she would be waiting for them at their final destination.

Nicole whimpered softly and Lora put her chin against the top of her head. The thought of anything else happening to this beautiful child broke her heart. All she could do now was offer her whatever comfort she could.

She'd seen it in Simon's face. He wasn't going to let them go.

She allowed herself the luxury to briefly imagine what a life with Trent would have been like. The imaginary image would have to be enough. She'd never live to see the reality.

Trent stood in the brightly lit hallway outside the door to Lora's condo. He rang the doorbell on the off chance she was inside, but heard only silence from behind the door. He waited another minute. Maybe she was asleep. Or in the shower. And maybe he should stop wasting time.

As much as he wanted to kick down the door in his desperation to find her, the still rational part of his mind knew he couldn't risk that kind of commotion or a nosy neighbor calling the cops. Instead, he checked to make sure no one was around, then silently picked the lock.

Inside, after a quick look at the mail and paperwork piled high on the kitchen table, he went straight to the spare room she used as a home office. He dug through the stacks of paper, sifted through the drawers, and found nothing. Giving up on being neat, he dumped the contents of the drawers onto the floor to make sure he hadn't missed anything.

Not that he knew exactly what the hell it was he was looking for. Sighing, he stood and looked around the room. He was wasting time and getting nowhere.

It was going to be a long night. One benefit of being a firefighter, was being able to go for long periods of time without sleep. Trent would need that skill now. He would not rest until he found Nicole and Lora. And God help Simon and Caroline if they had hurt either one of them. Then Trent would not rest until they were no longer breathing.

Woods stabbed his finger at the off button on his phone as Trent's voice mail picked up again. He called the nearest patrol unit and ordered them to do a drive by on Trent's apartment.

“What if he's there?” the officer asked, his voice hesitant even over the phone.

“I don't care, chain him to the goddamned bed if you have to.” The earlier tip that had come in about a pawnshop that might have sold a gun to Simon hadn't panned out. He had enough to worry about without adding Trent's whereabouts to the list.

“Detective Woods?”

It took every ounce of his self-control not to shout into the phone. “Just follow him if he leaves, all right? And report all movements to me.”

“You got it.”

Woods looked up and muttered a curse as he hung up and saw Nathan Barlow walking across the room towards him, a scowl deepening the lines on his face. What was it with these Barlow brothers? Couldn't they stay put for one goddamned minute?

“It's a little late for a visit. What are you doing here?” Woods asked, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“Checking in. And Trent's not answering my calls.”

Nathan looked as miserable as his brother had when he'd left Trent's apartment. Woods put a hand on his shoulder, leading him further down the hallway. “I'm a little busy right now.”

Nathan's eyes searched his. “If you know something about my daughter …” the unspoken threat hung in the air.

“Go home, Nathan.”

“Do not shut me out of this. This is my
daughter
we're talking about.”

Woods briefly closed his eyes against the sudden pounding in his head. Hadn't he just had a different version of this same conversation with Trent? His eyes jerked open at the sound of his phone ringing.

“A call just came in for Tate,” the dispatch officer said when he answered. “One of her snitches, says he's seen a man matching Simon Hewett's description. And a small blond girl,” she added quietly.

“Where?” Woods asked. The jolt of adrenaline chased his headache away.

“Around South Broadview and 82nd.”

“Rough part of town.” The area was full of low income housing and run-down apartment buildings. A good place for Simon to hide out.

“He only wants to speak with Tate. We've got the nearest patrol unit bringing him in.”

“Thanks. I'll be waiting here.” And he would make the son of a bitch talk.

“Roger,” she said, before signing off.

Woods turned his attention back to Nathan Barlow. “I have to get back to work.”

“I'm staying here,” Nathan said, a step behind.

And he'd thought Nathan had been a pain in the ass when his
brother
was missing.

“No. You're not. I'll walk you out.”

Woods stalked out of the station and across the parking lot, leaving Nathan with no choice but to follow after him. He reached the car and whirled around to face the older Barlow brother. “You know you cannot wait here with me.”

Nathan blew out a frustrated breath. “I need to do
something
.” Pain flashed in his eyes. Pain Woods feared might only get worse if things went the way they most likely would. He couldn't help but think of his own children and the devastation he'd feel if something happened to one of them.

“You need to be at home with Amy and Samantha,” he said softly.

Nathan's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed but he didn't protest.

The brief silence was shattered as a bullet slammed into the windshield of Nathan's sedan. Cracks instantly spider webbed across the glass.

“Get down,” Woods yelled, pushing Nathan to the ground. Nathan’s head hit the pavement hard and for a moment, things went black. He blinked, saw Woods in the glow of the streetlights pulling his gun and leaning around the driver’s side fender, a bright red trickle of blood running down his dark forehead.

There was another pop. Woods cursed and returned fire. One of the back tires blew. Nathan kept his head down. Shouted voices and commands of other officers soon joined the sound of gunfire.

Nathan pushed himself to his knees in the parking lot when the shooting stopped. He looked across the now empty road. The shooter was gone. Trent was gone, and Nathan’s hope wasn’t far behind. He felt his last thread of control snap. What would a man who had no problem shooting at them in the parking lot of the damned police station do to a little girl? His fists pounded the pavement in despair until blood dripped from his knuckles. “He's going to kill my daughter,” he roared in a ragged voice.

Woods came around the back of the car and put a hand on his shoulder. “Trent and Lora will bring her home.”

“But what if -” he couldn't finish the thought.

Woods jerked him to his feet, gave him a rough shake. “No. Don’t even think like that. You hear me? They’re
all
coming home.”

Simon smiled as he thought about the arrangements he'd made for Detective Justice Woods. Hopefully he was dead by now. Wouldn't that be a nice little surprise for Lora and Trent. He opened his phone and dialed.

Trent sat in the parking lot of Lora's building, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. He hadn't found anything inside. He'd go to the station. Damn KCPD protocol. Woods would
not
shut him out any longer. Before he could pull out of the parking space, his phone rang.

The screen of Trent's cell glowed with the words unknown number above the time. 2:30 a.m. “Yeah,” Trent said.

“Time for a new game plan, son.” Trent's hand tightened on the phone at the familiar voice.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime, Simon?” Trent asked, struggling to keep his voice steady.

Simon laughed. “I’ve had a busy day.”

“Yeah?”

“I like you, Trent. I do. You have more guts than almost any man I’ve met. So, I’m going to do something for you.”

“What’s that?” Trent asked, his eyes scanning the dark night through the windshield.

“I hold in my possession two of the things you hold most dear in this world.”

“And what two things are those?” Trent forced himself to ask, with the little breath left in his lungs.

More laughter. “What is it you see in that bitch cop anyway? She’s not worthy of you. Not even close.”

“Prove it,” Trent said, his hand tightening even more on the phone.

“Say hi to your Uncle Trent,” Simon’s faint voice said.

“Uncle Trent, Lora’s here with me.”

Trent closed his eyes, squeezed his other hand into a fist. Please, God, no.

“Say hi, Lora,” Simon said in the distance.

Trent held his breath as a brief silence was followed by sounds of a struggle, a muffled groan, then Lora’s voice. “I’m sorry, Trent.”

The uncharacteristic waver in her voice made Trent's chest tighten. Before he could respond, Simon was back on the line. “There’s your fucking proof. Now, I’m making you a one-time offer. You, and you, alone will meet me at Caroline's house. You will have one chance to save them. If I see anyone else, they're both dead.”

“Simon,” Trent said, but Simon had already ended the call. “Shit,” he shouted in the silence of his truck. He managed to stop his fist an instant before it collided with the windshield.

Could it be possible? Would Simon and Caroline risk going back to Caroline's house? He tried to think like
them
. Simon didn't want him. He wanted Lora.

Why? Because she'd shot him?

No. Because she'd ruined whatever fantasy of playing house he'd had with Caroline.

He thought of how he felt about Lora. Imagined Simon, in his own warped way, felt that way about Caroline. And it made perfect sense for them to go back there, to where they'd been happy.

It also made perfect sense for this to end there.

He should call Woods. He knew he should. But he wouldn't. As much as he trusted Lora's partner, he couldn’t risk going against Simon's warnings. There was too much at stake. The only way to save Lora and Nicole would be to turn himself over to Simon and hope for a miracle. Whatever the consequences to him were, if there was even the slightest chance of saving Lora and Nicole, he would do it. He just wished he'd managed to get a gun first.