Edge of the Heat 2 (Westwood Harbor Corruption) (13 page)

Craig came to slowly, his head a splitting mass of agony, his vision doubled, his right arm refusing to answer his commands. What in the hell had happened?

He had been walking slowly through Emma
’s house, waiting for her to grab some clothes so they could go get Vivian. Something about the house felt off, different, anxiety provoking. He was just about to pull his gun and go investigate the rest of the house when a blinding pain exploded in his head and he knew no more.

He lifted his head and looked around. His head threatened to crack. He put it back down, closed his eyes, and listened. Nothing. He was alone in this house. Emma was gone. Norman was gone. He knew it was Norman. Who else would it be? Ahh, he was s
uch a fool! There was some other asshole in Norman’s house shooting at his team while Norman slipped over here and took Emma.

Craig gritted his teeth against the pain that was about to come and pushed himself forward until he could force himself into a kne
eling position. That was actually a little better. He blinked his eyes, trying to clear them. The room swam. His hands were manacled behind his back.
Why wasn’t he dead
was the real question.

Emma must have done something. God he prayed she wasn
’t hurt. He prayed he could find her. He couldn’t lose another woman to that monster Norman. His vision darkened immediately when he thought of what Norman had done to Lucy and what Norman could possibly do to Emma. If he lost Emma too … he wrenched his mind away. He couldn’t go there. That dark pit of despair was full of jagged spears that could rip him to shreds in a second and leave him writhing in his own mental agony on this floor, a threat to no one. A savior to no one. What he needed right now was to move, to get out of these cuffs, to get Hawk and go after Norman.

Get out of these cuffs. Quickly. He had never tried before himself, but he knew it could be done. He
’d had criminals escape cuffs on him a few times. He struggled to his feet, breathing against the dizziness that threatened to overcome him. He bent forward at the waist and scooted his handcuffed hands behind his back, down the length of his legs. He was too bulky for this, it worked better for thin guys, but it had to work. There was no way he could get the cuffs over his head like some of the double-jointed women could.

His hands were stuck at his butt. He pulled out harder with his arms and pushed down and backwards with his shoulders. Oh shit! An epithet exploded in his head as he started to tip, fal
ling forwards onto the floor on his face.

He lay there for a second, trying to clear his head. The pain in the back of his neck was now monstrous, all consuming. Nausea threatened him. He didn
’t have time for this!

He pushed himself to his feet again, comp
artmentalizing the pain, and walked over to a wall to brace himself. If he couldn’t get it this time he’d need to go try to find a neighbor and hope they believed his story and would help him.

Pressing his shoulder against the wall he leaned forward again,
dragging his hands down his back and pushing-pulling past the  swell of his butt. He got it! The rest was easy. He pulled his hands down to his feet and stepped backwards through them. His handcuffed hands were in front of him.

The phone! He ran and grab
bed the handset and awkwardly dialed Hawk’s number. It went straight to voicemail.

“
Hawk! That can’t be Norman inside the house! Norman came here and took Emma. Hawk he’s got Emma, we have to go after her.” His voice broke on the last word.

He hit the button and tried another call to Dennis. Nothing again. He left a message to have Hawk call him at this number right away, it was an emergency. He tried every man in their team, and none of them answered their phones. Of course he wasn
’t surprised, but he was terrified. He hung up the phone and started looking for a shim or a bobbypin to get him out of these cuffs.

A thought struck him. How long had he been unconscious? What if they
’d just walked out the door? He ran to the front picture window. No one was on the street in front. He grabbed a jacket from the nail on the wail, covering his handcuffed wrists with it and ran outside, searching both ways for any sign of them. Nothing. No cars, no people.

Ok, back inside, get these cuffs off, and think
! Craig ran into the bathroom and rummaged around until he found a bobby pin. He bent it carefully until he could fit it inside the keyhole of the cuffs and pop them open. First one, then the other. Free!

Still no phone calls. He checked his pockets. No ke
ys, no phone. He couldn’t just sit here and wait for the damn phone to ring! He was heading to Norman’s house. He made up his mind, he was going to hotwire his own truck. He could be there in 10 minutes. Racing back out the door, he heard the phone ring. He ran back in, a glimmer of hope lighting up his chest, and picked it up. “Hawk?”

“
Go,” Hawk growled, gunshots ringing in the background.

“
Hawk, Norman isn’t in that house. Can’t be. He came and took Emma. Emma’s gone! He knocked me out and kidnapped Emma.” Craig felt about to break down, about to lose it.

Hawk was silent. Craig could hear his mental wheels clicking and turning though. He waited.

“Where are you?” Hawk’s voice betrayed nothing. But Craig knew he was feeling the same desperation Craig was. Norman was getting the best of them again. And another woman might pay for it with her life.

“
I’m at Emma’s house. We left the hospital. We came here to get her clothes. He was waiting here for us. I didn’t see him, but I know it was him.”

“
How long ago?”

Craig
’s eyes searched the small living room for a clock. “Um, we got here around 11, I think and it’s … 11:40 now. My best guess is I was out for 15 minutes. I’ve been awake for 5. So he probably took her 15 or 20 minutes ago.” Craig’s heart broke with this news. 20 minutes? Norman could be anywhere by now.

“
What is he driving, do you know?”

“
No, no idea.”

“
His car is here in front of the house, so he’s in something different. We’re about to do a hail mary swarm on the house. I’ll leave Carruthers to mop up whatever shitstorm we find in there and come get you. I’ll be there in 10.”

The phone went dead in his ear. 10 minutes. What in the hell was Craig going to do for 10 minutes? Search for clues, that
’s what.

He started in the kitchen, where he was pretty s
ure Norman had been holed up, waiting for them. Nothing caught his eye, except a partially open drawer. Nothing out of the ordinary in there. The lock on the sliding back door had been jimmied, he could see that from here. So that’s how Norman got in. He stepped onto the back porch and found a pile of cigarette butts. Emma didn’t smoke. Norman normally didn’t either, as far as he knew. Uncertainty tugged at him. Maybe this hadn’t been Norman after all? His right hand snuck to the back of his head, gently probing the large, angry lump there.
If it wasn’t Norman, then how did he know to hit me in almost the exact same spot where I was shot
? Maybe it wasn’t Norman who shot him either? No, it was! He knew it was.

Heading back into the house he checked Emma
’s bedroom for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing back here. Seeing her nicely made bed and neatly hung clothes in her closet made Craig’s heart hurt faster. He had to
do something
! He checked the alarm clock on the dresser. 10 minutes had passed. He ran back out to the front of the house to look for Hawk.

***

Hawk barely slowed down long enough for Craig to jump in the big, black, government-issue Ford F350 he was driving. “Where we headed?” Craig asked.

“
HQ, gonna see if Norman owns any other vehicles and check street cams.”

Fucking genius! Craig craned his head to see if there were any cams in this neighborhood. He didn
’t see any right here, but that didn’t mean there weren’t any. Craig took three deep breaths and crammed on his seatbelt. Hawk had the temporary bubble lights and siren blaring, moving as fast as possible.

Dodging cars and streetlights, Hawk
’s attention was firmly on the road, but he’d been doing this long enough to be able to talk too. “How’s your head?”

“
Hurts like hell,” Craig admitted.

“
We should get you back to the doctor. 15 minutes is a long time to be unconscious.”

“
Find Emma and you can take me anywhere you want. But until we find her …” he trailed off, knowing he didn’t need to explain himself to Hawk. Partially to change the subject, but mostly because he really wanted to know what SOB was working with Norman he asked, “So who was in the house?”

Hawk grunted. “
No one. He had it rigged up to a computer that he was operating remotely. The bastard was shooting at us and talking to us, and watching and listening to us from somewhere else. Emma’s house maybe.”

Craig felt like he had been punched in the gut. Norman was one smart, slippery, son of a bitch. What if they couldn
’t find him before… before the
unthinkable?

They pulled in front of the large brick building and ran in straight to the batcave. “
Call Carruthers, see if he found anything we can use pertaining to any other vehicles or homes Foster may own.” Craig nodded.

Hawk slid into the chair i
n front of the rows of monitors, flying his fingers over the keyboard. Craig knew if there was anything to be found, Hawk would find it.

Emma didn’t dare yell, scream for help, or even drag her feet. It was obvious Norman meant business. Until they were far enough away that she knew he wouldn’t turn around to put a bullet in Craig’s brain, she planned on doing exactly what he wanted. But after that, all bets were off. She had never hated anyone in her life, but her blood boiled and her brain fried at the thought of Norman’s audacity and cruelty.

He led her six blocks away on foot to a giant RV he had parked in the empty parking lot of the community playground. It was modern, big and blocky, with brown sidewalls and dark, tinted windows. He unl
ocked the side back door and pushed her inside. Immediately her eyes started devouring the room, looking for her future means of escape. She noticed an apparent modification that didn’t make any sense to her. A large metal ring screwed into the middle of the floor.

“
Sit down,” he told her, shoving her towards the ring, causing her to stumble.

She recovered and went to the couch.

“Not there,” he growled. “On the floor.”

Her eyes on him warily, she got down on the floor.

“Hold your hands out.”

He produced
two more sets of handcuffs from a drawer and handcuffed her wrists in front of her, then her handcuffs to the large metal ring. She was secured well. Her heart sunk. Sitting this way she couldn’t reach anything with her hands.

He left her there and went up
two stairs and opened a door in the very back of the RV. She craned her neck but couldn’t see anything in the room but a corner of a bed. He closed the door behind him and was gone for about a minute. She heard his muffled voice say something, and then he was back out, smiling.
What the hell? Was there someone in that room?

“
Now Emma, I’m so glad you’ve decided to come with me. We have got to get out of here very quickly before your boyfriend wakes up and raises the alarm, so excuse me.” He turned and walked up to the driver’s seat and prepared to drive away.

Decided to come with you? Are you insane?
Yes, she was afraid that Norman probably was insane. Maybe always had been. Fear niggling at her heart and brain threatened to turn to full-bore terror. What if she couldn’t get away from him? What was he planning to do with her? What if Craig was dying on the floor in her living room? What if he didn’t wake up and no one found him there for a day or more? How far away would she and Norman be? He was fleeing of course, she knew that. There was no life for him in Westood Harbor anymore. He could be at the Mexico border in about 9 hours. Is that where he was headed? Of course he’d have to cross somewhere but if he managed to get her across the border would even Craig or Hawk be able to save her? They could disappear so easily in that country.

She couldn
’t let that happen. She had to get free the next time they stopped. She had to do whatever it took to get him to unhook her from this metal ring.

The big rig rumble
d to life and shook and swayed as Norman started driving them to where ever they were going. Mexico, she just knew it. Her heart sank every time she thought of it. Alone, in an RV with Norman in another country. A country that didn’t always cooperate with the United States. A country that the FBI couldn’t operate and investigate freely in like they did here. Her thoughts spiraled out of control. Was he going to kill her? Rape her? Sell her? Make her pose as his wife? Terror coursed through her body. She started to shake, the handcuffs clinking together horribly.

Get a hold of yourself Emma! Don
’t hand yourself over to him on a silver platter! You can get out of this! You can’t sit around and wait for Craig to rescue you
. The thought made her realize again that Craig needed rescuing himself right now. Tears threatened to burn at her eyes.
No! No crying! Right now you have to come up with a plan! You don’t have one second to spare on crying.

She took a few deep breaths, hoping to calm herself, and glanced arou
nd. Her back already felt uncomfortable on the floor so she decided to lay down, stretching out with her hands over her head. She heard Norman begin to whistle from the driver’s seat.
He really is a psychopath
.

She was in the living area of the RV, with h
er feet stretching towards the driver’s seat. The sink and oven with multiple cabinets above and below were on her right. The fridge and couch and table were on her left. She didn’t see anything that would help her get out of here. There was a large window next to the table, and a few small ones on the other side. She wondered if she could break the large one. She didn’t see anything heavy enough to break it with. Norman’s gear had to be in these cabinets thought. She bet he had several guns and other weapons somewhere. If only she could get loose! Of course if she got loose he would be on her in a second, way quicker than she could figure out where his gun was probably.

The RV picked up speed. Emma tried to figure out where they might be. There was a freeway entrance about 5 miles from her house that would eventually lead them to I-5. She wondered if they were on it yet. She couldn
’t see anything out the windows but sky and clouds.

Her mind turned to a plan. She needed a plan. What did Norman want from her? If he wanted sex, that might be her way out of this. But could she really use sex as a way to get out of this? Did she have a choice? What would be better, trying to se
duce him and then possibly finding a way to use it to her advantage and get free? Or being raped? Either way she was going to be screwed by him if that’s what he wanted. Her mind tried to imagine kissing him and making him think that she wanted to. Her stomach turned at the thought.

She closed her eyes and hid her face under her right arm that was stretched over her head.
Come on Emma, if this is your only chance you have to do it. You can’t overpower him. You don’t have a single weapon. You can kiss him with passion if it’s the only way.

But she didn
’t think she could.

***

Something was changing. The RV was slowing down. They were pulling to the right. Were they stopping? Emma jerked out of the almost-sleep like state she had been in for what felt like several hours and sat up. Her shoulders ached from being stretched out for so long. She scrambled as close as she could to the metal ring and faced the driver’s compartment. Norman stopped the RV and turned it off, pocketing the keys as he stood up.

He looke
d at Emma and smiled. The smile looked flat and evil to Emma, and totally fake.

“
You may think you want to scream or try to escape Emma, but I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Sure, I can’t shoot Craig anymore, but your sister is still here.”

Emma felt like
screaming.
Sister? He knew about Vivian? He had Vivian here?
Suddenly she felt cold, colder than she’d ever felt in her life. Her vision threatened to blacken. She clenched her teeth together hard enough to crack them and leaned forward, trying to keep from passing out.
Sister. He had Vivian.

Norman laughed a little laugh and went on. “
She’s quite lovely you know, just as lovely as you Emma. And clean too. That perfect combination.” He walked past Emma and sat down on the couch. “I’d love to hear the story of how you two finally found each other.”

Emma didn
’t say anything. She just concentrated on breathing. Breath in, breath out.

“
You don’t want to talk right now? No matter. We’ll have plenty of time later.” His voice grew hard. “Unlock yourself, now.” He threw the handcuff keys into her lap.

She looked up. Unlock myself? He was pointing his gun at her. The one with the silencer. The expression on his face made it clear he meant business. He would shoot her in a second if she tried anything.

Heart hammering in her chest she grabbed the keys and unlocked both handcuffs, dropping the keys to the floor and rubbing her wrists.

“
Pick up both sets of handcuffs and stand up.”

She picked up the handcuffs and the keys too, palming them, wondering if she
’d get a chance to keep them.

“
Turn around and head into that room back there.” He motioned to the door in the back of the RV.

She climbed the two steps and opened the door. Nothing. The bed was empty. There was no one in here. She couldn
’t believe it! He’d been bluffing! He didn’t have her sister! She turned around, not sure what she meant to do, her face set in hostility. She wanted to kill him. She wanted to shoot him with his own damn gun.

Too bad he still had it trained on her, his finger on the trigger.

His lips pulled back in a smile more evil than the first. “Don’t get any bright ideas Emma, she’s here. Turn back around.”

She did. Norman did something behind her, a whine of hydraulics filled the room, and the bed started lifting from the ground, tilting onto on
e side. Beneath it was an open, hollowed out space. Vivian lay in this space, hands over her head, handcuffed to another metal ring. Her eyes were closed. She didn’t look to be breathing.

“
Vivian!” Emma rushed to her and her fingers went right to Vivian’s pulse point. Her heart was beating, fast and thready. Like she was terrified. But her face was relaxed as in sleep or unconsciousness.

“
You bastard!” Emma whirled around, hands balled into fists. “What did you do to her? How could you do this Norman? You are supposed to be one of the good guys! You are supposed to be a cop!”

“
Yeah, well your boyfriend and his friends took that life from me, didn’t they?” he sneered.

“
What? What? You can’t kill people and expect the FBI not to come after you!”

His voice dropped low and deadly, conniving. “
Who have I killed Emma?”

Emma eyed him, not sure what he was looking for. Did he want to know how much she knew? How much Craig knew? She whirled back around to Vivian and checked her pulse again. “
She’s sick Norman. Get me an aid bag.”

“
She’s not sick. She’s fine. She’s just having a nice trip.”

Emma
’s mind reeled. A nice trip? Her eyes flew to Vivian’s arms. A spot of dried blood stained the left one on the inside of her elbow. “Oh my God. What did you inject her with Norman?”

“
Don’t you worry Emma, you’ll find out soon enough.” His voice changed again, to the hardened, I-mean-business tone. “Lay down next to her, handcuff yourself to the metal ring.”

Emma
’s mind raced. Was this the time to try something, anything? She couldn’t try to seduce him. She could barely keep herself from spitting in his face. Maybe just keep him talking.

“
Why Norman, what are you going to do with us? Where are we going?” She searched his face.

Very deliberately, he swung his gun from
her to Vivian. “Now Emma.”

There was nothing she could do, except what he wanted. She lay down and handcuffed herself as loosely as she dared.

He came forward and tightened the handcuffs until they hurt. Then he opened the drawer next to the bed and pulled out a syringe. Her eyes grew wide when she saw it. “No Norman, don’t. I’ll do anything you want. I won’t scream. I won’t try to escape.” She couldn’t tear her eyes from the syringe. She’d never done drugs in her life.

Norman put one leg over the piece of
wood sticking up that the bed would rest on when it was back in place. He put a rubber tourniquet on Emma’s arm, obviously planning to inject her.

Emma felt her mind shattering, trying to fly away. Her breaths tore in and out of her throat, blocking any f
urther speech. She kicked her legs a little and Norman looked at her, death in his eyes. With his left hand he pressed his gun directly against Vivian’s temple.

Emma stilled immediately. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited. She wondered if she
’d ever wake up from this, and if she did, where would they be?

She felt the prick of the needle.