Love Inspired Suspense April 2015 #1 (35 page)

NINETEEN

T
errell Watkins and Gary Shelton listened in on another line while Rick grabbed the blinking phone in front of him. “This is Powell.”

“Hello, Rick.”

Rick's lips stretched into a snarl at the sound of Julian Hale's arrogant voice. Of all the things Rick wanted to say, a pleasant greeting didn't appear anywhere on that list.

“Hale,” he finally choked out. He wanted to reach through the phone line and strangle the man, but he had to stay calm and keep Hale talking.

“I assume that you have already searched Stephanie's house, as well as mine again.” Hale said. “Find anything interesting?”

He's controlling the conversation.

Rick needed to flip this around, to tip the power back in his direction. He couldn't allow Hale to continue pulling the puppet strings.

“Let's skip the small talk and get to your demands,” Rick told him.

“You need a little practice in negotiation, Officer Powell. Aren't you supposed to be building trust, assuring me you have my best interests at heart?”

Rick huffed. “You and I have too much history between us to be anything but honest. We've exchanged bullets, Julian. I think we can skip the pretense of liking each other and move past the chitchat. What do you want?”

Hale chuckled. “This is true,” he agreed. “So, I've been waiting patiently. Have you figured out our location yet?”

He's having fun with this. It is all a big game to him.
Rick hated to answer that he didn't know where Hale and Stephanie were located. The SWAT team was pre-alerted, waiting to hear where to show up. They had been told, “We've got something going down but we don't know where to send you yet. Hang tight.” Nothing in Stephanie's house had pointed them to her location, and all of their attempts to locate her cell phone had failed because her phone was powered down.

Using enhanced caller ID, dispatch advised that Hale's call had come in on a prepaid phone without GPS. They were working on figuring out which cell tower he was using.

Rick directed the conversation down a different path, hoping Hale would slip in a clue. “Is Stephanie okay?”

“Are you changing the subject? So, that would be a no, then, you don't know where we are?” Hale snickered. “I'm disappointed. I thought I made it so easy to find us. Maybe if I stay on the line a bit longer, you'll trace the call like they do in the movies.”

The yellow pencil Rick had been twirling snapped in two.

Hale's taunting continued. “Or maybe you'll be smart enough to find me on your own. I'll call back in fifteen minutes and see if you've made any progress.”

Rick waited for Hale to hang up, but he started to speak again. “Oh, and Rick.”

“Yes.”

“You better hurry. Stephanie's time is running out.”

* * *

Stephanie had heard Julian's threats to Rick.
How much time do I have left?
Her body began to shake, first in her legs, and then the trembling moved up her spine and then back down to her bound hands. She tried to control the shaking with deep breathing, but she was having a hard time calming the fear.

“Julian?” she whispered. “Why?”

He lunged at her, his pale skin blotchy and his empty eyes bulging. Stephanie flinched from his hot breath so close to her face. Sneering, Julian spoke to her between gritted teeth. “Don't talk unless spoken to first.”

Anger sparked in his eyes, revealing a sign of life underneath his unnaturally placid exterior. His reaction startled her. It was so unlike Julian to be so passionate about anything. What was it about her question that had aroused his temper? Maybe he didn't like her using his name.

“I need to understand why this is happening.” Her arms ached from being pinned behind her for so long. “Why me?” she squeaked out.

His face contorted, his fight against an internal storm playing out on his face. She winced. Would he shock her again?

“Why
not
you, Stephanie? I kill people. That's what I do. Are you so special you think someone else deserved to die in your place? Who should it be instead? Allison Townsend, perhaps?”

“Wasn't I kind to you?” Stephanie asked him. “What did I do to you that made you hate me?”

Julian's face relaxed back into its familiar void-of-emotion expression. “You annoyed me when you slipped away like you did, but if it is any comfort to you, Stephanie, I do not hate you.” He turned his back to her and walked to the bookshelf. He picked up a framed photograph from a shelf. “In fact, in my own way, I highly value you,” he said.

Value me? Enough to take my life away from me?

“You should consider yourself fortunate. The pain I inflict before you die will allow you to feel, to know for certain that you are alive.” He turned his dead eyes back on to her. She recoiled from the sickness she saw in them.

Julian returned his gaze to the photo he held in his hands. He lowered his voice even further. “You won't believe me when I tell you this, but I will be doing you a favor.”

She choked out a half chuckle, half sob. “I should thank you for killing me?”

“Yes. You should. You won't have leprosy of the soul like me.”

Leprosy of the soul?
What was that supposed to mean? Blood pounded between her ears, making her head ache. Julian's mind was too twisted for her to follow his train of thought.

He remained silent for several heartbeats. His voice was only a notch above a whisper when he added, “You will die in pain, but you will die loving and being loved.”

Her eyes stung and blurred. She shivered. The desperation of this man chilled her. Her heart lurched with pity at the thought of his emptiness.
He's jealous of me?
Of all the things to envy her for, Julian had chosen her ability to give and receive love.
Me, the abandoned and fatherless, the single woman with no relationship.
He had picked the one thing she thought she lacked the most.

The slideshow of faces started to march across her mind again. She saw Terrell and Val and remembered how lost and lonely she had been when she wandered into the junior high youth group they were leading. They had taken her under their wings back then, and all these years later they were still loving her. She saw the faces of Joash and Haddie, and those of the countless people she knew in Liberia. She felt again Axle's warmth when he guarded her in the hotel stairwell from the bomb. She felt again Rick's arms around her. All the people she loved and who loved her back. It had never occurred to her before this moment just how rich in love her life was, but a stranger had been able to see it and want it for himself.

“You are loved, too, Julian,” she whispered.

“What do you mean?” His body snapped into a rigid, defensive stance. His eyes narrowed. Currents of hatred sparked off him like the electricity he had shot at her. Stephanie pulled back into the couch as far as she could. “Do you mean by your
God
, Stephanie? Are you trying to
save
me?”

Warmth started in her core and radiated through her. It was unexplainable. She sat facing a killer who planned to torture and kill her; she should be terrified, yet strangely she was basking in peace. Cleansing tears flowed unhindered down her cheeks. Julian had given her a gift, the chance to see the truth even if he wouldn't accept it for himself. A Bible verse Terrell had made her memorize all those years ago in youth group floated to the surface. “The LORD appeared to us in the past, saying: ‘I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.'” She was loved. And so was Julian.

“Yes, Julian. You are loved by God. If you want it, it's yours.”

Julian slammed the photo back on the shelf. “You can keep your little missionary spiel to yourself.” He laughed a manic cackle. “You don't need to practice your speeches. You won't be running off to Africa anymore. What are you going to do now that you can't earn those brownie points?”

Julian's words seared her heart. They were basically the same sentiment that Val had tried to tell her that morning. She had believed the lie that if she worked hard enough, did something grand enough, then maybe, just maybe, God wouldn't reject her as her father had done.

“God's love is a gift,” she stammered. “I couldn't earn it even if I tried.” Light filled her mind as more truth dawned. “And nothing will separate me from that love. Even if you kill me, Julian, I'll still have it.”

Julian cocked an eyebrow. “Well, you will have a chance to test that theory soon enough.”

Courage and peace she could not explain continued to buoy her, but her curiosity had one more question needing answered. “Why are you waiting, Julian? Why haven't you killed me already?”

His chuckle was low and soft this time. “Your time is coming soon enough, but I have big plans of my own, and I need you to stay alive long enough to bring me my audience. We wouldn't want your
boyfriend
to miss out on all the fun, would we?” He waved her off, dismissing their conversation. “If you'll excuse me, I need to make a phone call.”

As he stepped away from the bookshelf, Stephanie looked at the photograph he had re-shelved. She saw a typical department store backdrop behind a smiling couple. The picture could have been taken at any mall and could be of anybody's grandparents. But these particular smiles, this particular couple, Stephanie recognized.

She sat straighter. It made perfect sense. Of course he would come here. It was a case of good old-fashioned revenge. She glanced again at the framed photograph of Rick's smiling grandparents. A larger version of the same photograph hung on their cabin wall.

The police had invaded his home. Now Julian had invaded one of theirs.

Stephanie surveyed her surroundings with a new appreciation. She was sitting inside Rick's house.

* * *

Rick tapped his fingers on Shelton's desk, waiting for Hale's next call. Other officers were out searching for Stephanie while he sat on his rear end. He wanted to be out there with them, doing something more productive than sitting here waiting for Julian's next chess move.

Shelton pointed at him. “Back on line one.”

Rick punched the button and lifted the receiver. “Julian. What have you got for me?”

“Ha! What have I got for you?” Hale laughed at him. “I gave you homework. I'm getting bored sitting here waiting for you to come over and play. Trust me, you don't want me bored.”

“We know where you are,” Rick lied.

Shelton ripped off a sheet of paper from a notebook and slid it in front of Rick.
Call is coming from somewhere in or near Greenwood.

Finally a clue.
Rick grinned at the detective and then at Terrell. Julian hadn't taken Stephanie outside of the Seattle metro area, and he was hiding in an area of town they all knew well. Both Rick's and the Watkinses' houses were in Greenwood. Together they should be able to come up with ideas of where to search. It was just a matter of time. But how much time did they have?

“What happened to all of our history keeping us honest, Rick? If you knew where I was, you'd be here by now.” Hale cackled again, but there was another sound Rick strained to hear behind the laugh.

At first he wondered if he was hearing things, but he heard it again. It was definitely Stephanie's voice screaming in the background. He jumped from his chair. “Rick, we're in your house. Rick! We are...inside...your house. I saw a picture of your nana and...”

The next sounds made his stomach drop. He closed his eyes as the easily recognizable
zzit, zzit, zzit, zzit, zzit, zzit, zzit,
sound of a Taser firing blended with Stephanie's screams of pain.

“Hale, stop!” Rick bellowed into the phone.

Shelton and Watkins had scrambled away already, alerting SWAT and sending cars.

“Well, I guess I won't be bored for long,” Hale said. “But you need to understand something, Rick. I am in control here, not you, and not the hordes of police you've probably already sent this way. You better stop them if you want her to stay alive.”

Silent beats followed, and Rick wondered how he should respond. But Hale wasn't finished talking. “If you think you're man enough to take me, come on over, but you better come alone.”

TWENTY

A
t the command post, Rick swung open the door of the mobile home that served as the SWAT team's Tactical Operations Center and stepped inside. All of this planning and talking was taking up precious time. Hale knew they were onto him. How much longer would he allow Stephanie to live? Rick's heart screamed
hurry up and get her out of there,
but his brain and training knew proper planning was critical to success. Despite how much he wanted them to, the SWAT team couldn't storm the house without cause. Unless the threat to Stephanie's life was imminent, they'd keep trying to negotiate. Rick took a deep breath to calm his panic and shook hands with the SWAT commander.

The commander swept a hand toward TV monitors. “We've got cameras up on the windows of your house. Tell me what we're seeing here.”

The image was partially blocked by the wooden slats of his window blinds, but Rick recognized the room and the people in it. Hale stood with his back to the window, gesturing wildly as he made some kind of speech. Tears pricked behind Rick's eyes when he spotted Stephanie lying bound on the floor. He held his breath until he saw her foot move. She was still alive for now.

Rick handed the commander the sketch he had made of his home's floor plan and pointed out the location of the room they were viewing. “That's my den. You enter the living room from the front door. The den is here, behind that wall.”

The commander nodded, studying Rick's drawing. “Be prepared to take your position soon. Since you are without your K-9, we'll make you point man on the front entry team.” He patted Rick's shoulder with a heavy hand. “Don't worry. We'll have your friend out of there soon.”

* * *

Rick stood next to Terrell, waiting for the order to take their positions. It felt strange to be working without Axle, but Rick was glad the dog had been with his neighbor getting the rest he needed to recuperate instead of at home when Hale showed up with Stephanie.

An officer walked past them and into the hostage negotiation trailer. Rick rubbed his hand across his mouth. Were they going about this the right way? The scurrying activity of the command post reminded Rick of Hale's demand that he come alone. They were a few blocks away and hidden from Hale's view for now, but soon the team would move and prepare to strike. What would Hale do to Stephanie when he discovered there was a small army camped outside?

Rick wiped the sweat off his forehead. How much longer would they have to wait? He gazed around his neighborhood, seeing the familiar landscape in a new light. He was so close to Stephanie, yet so far away.

Only slightly over a week had passed since he and Terrell had prepared just like this to serve Hale's warrant. He couldn't have known that morning how much would change in only a week's time, especially not how much his own heart would change.

He reached into his pocket and felt his fingers wrap around the coin he always kept there. Grandpa Powell had given it to him at his swearing-in ceremony for SPD. Rick didn't need to take it out of his pocket to know what was engraved on the coin. He had carried it for over seven years; the words were written on his memory. First Corinthians 16:13: “Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be men of courage; be strong.”

Be men of courage.
What if Stephanie did survive? Would he pursue a relationship with her?

He turned to Terrell. “Sarge, I...”

Terrell interrupted him. “We're going to win tonight, Powell. I can feel it. Don't lose hope.”

Be on your guard.
Rick looked up to the sky. “I shouldn't have left her alone. How could I have not seen that we were falling for another one of Hale's tricks? I should have driven up to Bellingham right away and confirmed Hale was in that jail cell with my own eyes.” Guilt ate away at Rick's gut.

Be strong.
“I don't know how you can do it.”

“Do what?” Terrell asked him.

“You know...” Rick struggled for the words he wanted.
“Love.”

Instead of laughing at him as he expected, Terrell turned his wise eyes toward Rick with a look of compassion. “Love requires us to do the opposite of what we are trained to do. That's why it is so hard for cops to do it. We have to disarm and allow ourselves to be vulnerable.”

“How did you do it?” Rick swallowed. “With Val, I mean.” He shouldn't be bringing all of this up now, but he needed these answers. If Stephanie survived, he would have a choice to make.

“It wasn't easy, but I couldn't live without her. Val was worth the risk,” Terrell said. “And I didn't want fear to rule my life.”

“What about your kids? Don't you fear for their safety?”

Terrell looked away and nodded, thinking. “Outside of what God allows, there is no guarantee of safety in this life. I could be an accountant instead, and it wouldn't change a thing. Our lives are in His hands and we are safest inside His will. My kids' dad is a cop and that isn't a surprise to God. He can handle it. He's got them.” Terrell paused. “He's got Stephanie, too, Rick.”

Stand firm in the faith.
Rick hung his head. “I want that kind of faith.”

“Then ask for it.” Terrell placed a hand on Rick's shoulder. “Look. You and I—we know the darker side of life. We have to face it every single day and don't have the luxury of pretending it isn't there. We put on our badge and our gun and we try our best to fulfill our calling to serve and protect, but at the end of the day when we strip it all off, we know we are still only men underneath. We fool ourselves if we don't. That's why the real battle has to be done on our knees. That's how I do it.”

Rick's cell vibrated, letting him know a text was coming through. When he saw it was from his neighbor, Cindy, he scanned it quickly. He groaned. “Oh, no.”

“What?” Terrell asked him.

“It's Axle. My neighbor took him with her when they evacuated. He freaked when they got to her friend's house and bolted. They've been looking for him, but can't find him. She thinks he might be heading this way.”

Rick could just imagine how agitated the dog must have been during the evacuation process. But he couldn't go looking for him now.
Please watch out for him, Lord, until I can go find him. Thank You.
He was still so out of practice, the praying felt rusty. But he felt the loosening of his own grip as he took his first baby step toward more faith.

“He'll be okay. We'll find him after this,” Terrell assured him.

One of the SWAT guys interrupted. “It's go time, gentlemen.”

* * *

During the last electric shock, Stephanie had fallen off the couch to the floor. Julian had pulled the trigger three times after her attempt to alert Rick to their location. As he prepared to fire a fourth shot, she begged him, “Please. Not again.”

She didn't regret trying to pass the information on to Rick, but she wasn't sure if she had even succeeded. Had he heard her? She was paying a painful price for her act of rebellion. If he did hear her, was he coming?

“Every time I pull the trigger it lasts for five seconds. Feels like longer, doesn't it?” Julian turned the weapon around in his hand, admiring it. “This was a good purchase. I like it.”

He squatted down next to her and put it to her temple. She wanted to be tough, but she couldn't help but whimper at the thought of another round of shock. He grinned, apparently pleased at her reaction. “You and your big mouth ruined my agenda. Officer Powell wasn't supposed to show up for another few hours, after I finished with you.”

Julian stood up. He put the stun gun down on an end table and pulled a pistol from his waistband. He turned it over, admiring it. “Guess I'll just have to be flexible and go with plan B.” He squatted back down so she could see him. He placed the gun in her line of sight. “I'll give you a break for now. Think of it as a little intermission before the final act.”

He waved the gun around a bit. “What's your weapon of choice, Stephanie? Gun or...” He walked back beside the couch and placed a large bundle on the floor where she could see it.

Stephanie cringed. More dynamite?

“Which do you prefer? Quick gunshot wound? That's not usually
my
preferred method, a bit too quick and cliché for my taste.” He pointed to the dynamite. “Or do you and Rick go out together in a romantic blaze of glory?”

Stephanie rested her forehead against the carpet and prayed. She understood Julian's goals better now. She had been wondering why he was waiting to kill her, why he was giving the police time to get there. He was luring Rick here so he could kill them both. They had defied him and ruined his plans. Now they would pay together. She wished there were some way to warn Rick about the dynamite.

Bullet or bomb?
She couldn't make that choice. Silence was her only response.

Stephanie was afraid, but as she prayed, her breathing slowed, the peace from earlier continuing to bathe her. Tears flowed silently as she lifted up all the people she loved in prayer. She prayed for her sister Emily's baby, the niece or nephew she would now never know. She prayed for Joash and Haddie and the future ahead of them. She prayed for Val and Terrell, and finally she prayed for Rick.

Lord, I want to live. I want Rick to live.

Julian's face perked up in attention. He must have heard something he didn't like. He moved away from her toward the window. She couldn't see him, but she could sense his agitation and pacing. He was back on his cell phone.

“I see your men out there. I gave Officer Powell the chance to be a hero. It wouldn't have ended like this if he had just done what I told him to do and came alone. You tell him her death is on him, because this ends now.”

Stephanie jumped at the sound of Hale's cell phone crashing against the wall.

Julian walked back into her line of sight and pointed the pistol at her face. “It looks as if your boyfriend made the choice for you.”

Stephanie screwed her eyes shut tight and started praying one last desperate cry for help. Her prayers ceased at the sound of shattering glass. Deafening explosions and blinding white light brought dust and chunks of plaster raining down from the ceiling. She had always wondered what dying would feel like. It sounded as though she was about to find out.

* * *

Rick lined up in his position with the front entry team, his heart pounding in his ears. He remembered Terrell's words:
The real battle has to be done on our knees. That's how I do it.
If that was Terrell's secret, then Rick would follow his lead.
Lord, make me firm in faith, stronger and braver than I am on my own. If You allow Stephanie to live, I promise I will let You teach me how to love her right, no matter what it costs me. I'll trust You.
It was all he had time to think before the “Go, go, go, go” screamed into his ear.

It was a beautifully executed dynamic entry. The windows of his house shattered as the 40 mm wood batons blasted the windows, followed by the mesmerizing strobes of flashbang grenades detonating inside. One swing of the battering ram demolished his front door and they were inside. Rick sprinted, the first of the front entry team to penetrate the house. They had mere seconds to reach Hale before he recovered from the shock and disorientation and shot Stephanie.

Find her, find her, find her
chanted through his mind, propelling him forward. One way or the other, it would all be over in a matter of minutes. Soon he would know if he would get the chance to tell Stephanie that he loved her. He searched through the chaos around him. He coughed out dust.
Be alive, be alive.

Rick struggled to recognize the place as his own through the haze. He rounded the corner to the living room and saw Stephanie's body, bound and lying motionless on the floor. He ran toward her, but movement in his peripheral vision made him turn.

The tip of Hale's gun shook from the tremor in his unsteady hands, but it was pointed right at Rick's head.

Rick spun and fired,
pop, pop, pop, pop.
Hale dropped his gun, swaying like a tree about to topple. Rick knew he had fatally wounded Hale, but he couldn't let down his guard until he was sure it was over. Instead of dropping as Rick expected him to do, Hale raised and flicked to life a lighter. He staggered toward a large bundle on the floor.

Coldness spiraled through Rick's belly.
It's dynamite!
“No! Don't do it!” Time stretched as Rick lunged toward the man.

A deep, throaty snarl came from behind Rick and before he could reach Hale, a blur of brown fur shot past him. A dog leaped into the air; his jaws opened wide and latched onto Hale's arm, preventing him from detonating the dynamite.

Unable to fight the effects of the gunshot wounds any longer, the light in Julian Hale's eyes dimmed and then extinguished. His body fell over dead. The lighter rolled from his lifeless hand.

“Axle!
Aus!
” Rick commanded Axle to let go of Hale. He squatted down and rubbed Axle's head. “Where did you come from, buddy?” Rick had never been more proud of his dog than he was in that moment. “
So ist brav! So ist brav!
” Rick praised Axle over and over again in German. “Good job! Good job! You saved us, buddy!”

* * *

Stephanie rolled over, disoriented. She felt the vibration of boots stomping about her, but she was deaf from the explosion. It was like a silent nightmare. She had watched Julian's body swaying above her, his gun raised. She had squeezed her eyes shut tighter with each muffled gunshot that followed.

When she opened her eyes, she had been shocked to see Axle hanging from Julian's arm. Julian had swayed only once more before he toppled over and landed on top of her, his body limp, lifeless.

Boots stopped in front of her, and Axle licked her face. She could hear the distant echo of the word
clear
repeated over and over again. Then the weight of Julian's body was lifted off her and she could see Rick looming above her. He slit the zip ties, setting her arms and legs free. Stephanie grabbed his offered hand and he jerked her to her feet, shoving her forward, prompting her to run for the door.