Love Inspired Suspense May 2015 #2 (31 page)

“Vaguely.”

“Someone tried to stab her with a syringe.”

The nurse's brown eyes widened. “Wow. Why?”

“I'm trying to figure that out.”

“Someone tried to stab her? You'd think that would've gotten some notice in such small quarters.”

He didn't like the flip tone in her voice. “Whoever it was aimed for her side but missed.”

“Does someone have it out for this girl? She can't catch a break.”

Griffin noticed how different Inhofe's response was from the pastor's. Hughes had just wanted to help. The nurse assumed Laura was at fault and that someone was out to get her.

Griffin's gaze lasered into Cheryl. “What do you mean?”

“Uh...” He could practically see the wheels turning in her head. “Didn't something else happen? In the ladies' room?”

“She fainted.”

“Oh. Right.”

Interesting that she would bring up an incident that had never been reported or described as an attack. “Did you realize anything was going on when she was targeted on the elevator?”

“Not until you just told me.”

“So, you didn't notice anyone acting strangely?”

“No, but all I cared about was getting off my shift and going home.”

“You were the only hospital employee in the group.”

“So?” She angled her chin at him.

Carefully gauging her reaction, he said bluntly, “You have access to syringes and drugs.”

He caught a spark of...something in her eyes before she glared at him. “So does everyone who works here!”

“Yes, but they weren't on the elevator with us.”

“You think
I
tried to hurt her?”

“Just checking the possibilities.”

“I had nothing to do with it,” she said with an indignant sniff.

“Then maybe you'll be able to help me with something else.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and thumbed to the photo of Harlan Thompson. “Ever seen this guy before?”

He thought he saw the briefest flash of recognition in her eyes before she masked it. “Who is that?”

“Someone who's been seen around here a few times.”

“Like after the elevator thing?”

“Mmm.” And maybe the ladies'-room thing. Griffin let her draw her own conclusion from that nonanswer.

“I may have seen him around, but I don't know him.”

Griffin didn't believe her. “That's what Pastor Hughes said, too.”

“Why would you ask him? Oh, I guess he spends almost as much time around here as we employees do.”

Griffin studied her face. “Did you know him when he worked at the prison in McAlester?”

“No.” Her eyes narrowed. “How did you know I worked there?”

“The pastor. He said he knew you had been employed there at one time.” That wasn't a lie. Griffin just didn't answer her specific question.

“Oh.” She looked disgruntled.

He cocked his head. “Is it supposed to be a secret?”

“No,” she scoffed.

He'd done all he could do here for now. “Thanks for your time.”

“Sure.” She pursed her lips. “You're not a cop, are you?”

“No, why?”

“Why are you asking all these questions?”

“I'm trying to figure out who attacked Miss Parker in the elevator.”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

It was a nice idea and none of the nurse's business. He just smiled and walked away.

He hadn't gotten much, but he knew the nurse was lying about knowing Harlan Thompson. He just had to prove it.

If the nurse was Arrico's accomplice, Griffin was certain as soon as he left here, she would call the convict and tell him about Griffin's questions. The same could be true of the pastor.

Crossing the hall, he found Ghost's number on his speed dial.

“Yeah?” Morales answered.

“Do you still have the cell phone number I gave you for the nurse?”

“Yeah.”

“Could you do your thing and track her calls?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. Could you also check phone records for Rick Hughes?”

“The pastor who used to work at the prison in McAlester?”

“That's him.”

“All right. I'll get back to you.”

If she contacted Thompson, Griffin would have a link to Arrico. If she called the prison, they probably wouldn't be able to find out who she spoke to specifically, but Griffin was willing to assume it would be Arrico.

The attorney and the nurse could both be Arrico's accomplices. For Laura, Griffin wanted to catch everyone associated with the convict.

Though even if he did, that didn't mean she'd be able to stay in Oklahoma City. And, he realized, he really wanted that.

NINE

A
n hour later, Laura attempted to call her dad again at the number on the new burner phone Griffin had given Nolan. There was no answer. She tried not to become alarmed, well aware that she was anxious about everything. She knew Nolan still felt puny from his chemotherapy. He was probably asleep, knocked out from pain meds.

A few minutes later, her burner phone rang. The number was from Aunt Joy's missing phone. She or Griffin must have found it. Good. “Hi.”

“Listen up,” an unfamiliar masculine voice said.

Her stomach dropped. “Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“We've got your father.”

“What!”

“We're at the hospital in your dad's room. If you aren't here in thirty minutes, we'll kill him.”

Running up the stairs to the kitchen, Laura snatched up her coat and grabbed the first set of keys hanging on the wall next to the garage door. She bolted out into the garage and headed for the second bay and Griffin's extra SUV. “What about traffic? I don't know if I can get there in thirty minutes!”

“You'd better.”

She scrambled up into the gray SUV and started the vehicle, then punched the remote button to open the garage door. “Let me talk to my dad!”

There was only a dial tone. Screaming in frustration, she pressed the gas pedal and sent the truck squealing out of the garage. She barely remembered to hit the remote to shut the door.

She tore up the long gravel driveway that led to the main road. The number to Griffin's cell phone was entered into her speed dial. As the truck swerved and bounced, spraying dirt and gravel, she punched the number 1.
Please still be at the hospital
, she prayed.

He answered on the first ring. “Hey, how's—?”

“They've got my dad!”

“What? Who does?”

“Vin's goons!” She tried to speak past the lump in her throat. “They said they were in his hospital room. Did you stop to see my dad?”

“For just a couple of minutes. He was alone.”

“The voice on the phone said I had thirty minutes to get there or they would kill him. Are you still there?”

“No. I left about twenty minutes ago, but I'm turning around right now.”

“Thank you.” She nearly sobbed in relief. “You'll be able to get to him before I can.”

She reached the main road and turned onto the asphalt.

“Laura, did you leave the house?”

“I had to.”

“Go back. Now.”

“But they said they would kill him.”

“I've got this. Go home,” he said sternly.

She didn't see how she could. As if Griffin knew her thoughts, he said, “Turn around. I'll take care of him. Stay on the phone with me.”

“Okay.” Her nerves were raw, her hands shaking. She knew Griffin would handle the situation.

The caller would be expecting her, not an ex-SEAL. She slowed the SUV and turned the vehicle around. An old brown four-door passed her. The first car she'd seen.

“Where are you now?” Griffin asked.

“I can see your driveway. I'm maybe a hundred and fifty yards away—”

Something heavy rammed the back end of the SUV, knocking Laura into the steering wheel, bending her wrist at an awkward angle. She cried out.

“What is it?” He sounded urgent.

“Something just hit the back of the truck.” The rearview mirror showed a car closing in fast. The tan four-door. “It's a car! Brown. Old—”

The car slammed her rear bumper hard, causing her to fishtail. Screaming, she tried to correct but couldn't. “Griffin!”

She plowed into the ditch, headed for a barbed wire fence.

“Laura!” Griffin's voice faded as the phone flew out of her hand.

She fought the wheel, trying to get some traction on the rain-soaked ground. The vehicle struck a rut and slid in sickening slow motion down the fence. Barbed wire clawed the sides of the SUV in an earsplitting metallic screech.

The truck bumped over something—a hole or a rock—and flipped halfway onto its side. The momentum snapped Laura's teeth together and hurled her to the opposite door. She screamed as her head smacked the window. The vehicle crashed to a stop, engine still running.

Head throbbing, she lay stunned for a moment. The driver's-side window shattered and glass sprayed her. That door was jerked open.

“Here, I got 'er,” a man said.

Hard hands clamped around her ankles and yanked. She kicked as hard as she could, managing to dislodge one hand. Two pairs of hands fastened on her this time, one on each leg. As they dragged her toward them, she managed to snag the cell phone from the floor. She shrieked and struggled and punched with her feet, though she was tiring fast. She knew her efforts wouldn't free her, but she was able to get their grip to loosen slightly, just long enough to stuff the phone into her coat pocket.

Two goons pulled her out, whacking her head on the running board. She hit the ground with a jarring thud. Pain shot through her. Dazed, she lay motionless.

Cursing and muttering, one thug moved up and flipped her onto her stomach, binding her wrists behind her. He rolled her onto her back and the other man latched on to her ankles. The guy at her head caught her under her arms and the two of them picked her up. She began to struggle again, trying to kick the one at her feet.

They moved a short distance, opened the trunk of their car and pitched her inside. As the door slammed, she cried out and began hammering the side of the vehicle with her feet. The car lurched into motion and sped down the road.

Panic nearly choked her, but she tried to stay calm.
Help me, Lord. Please.
She was able to think past the terror flooding her. Griffin had been on the phone with her when she was ambushed. He knew she was in trouble. He would come for her. Reaction set in and she began to tremble.

She just hoped he found her before they killed her.

* * *

Laura's scream had turned Griffin's blood to ice.

He had made the first legal U-turn he could and headed home.

Adrenaline blasted through him. He got Boone on the phone and quickly explained what had happened. “I'm only now exiting the highway. I hope you're closer to my house than I am.”

“Sydney and I both are.”

“Great!” He checked the GPS signal on his stereo display. “I'm tracking Laura's phone. They're headed west of my house. It sounded as if she was putting up a fight, but these injections take a lot out of her. I don't know for how much longer she'll have the energy to struggle.”

“Syd and I are on the county line road right now, heading west. What are we looking for?”

“A brown four-door. Laura said it looked old. If you catch up to them, stop them. I don't care how.”

“You got it.” Boone hung up.

Whoever had lured Laura out of Griffin's house obviously wasn't in her father's room at OU Medical Center. He called Ghost, who agreed to go to the hospital and report back on Nolan.

Griffin narrowed his focus to finding her, refusing to allow the impatience or the urgency that grew out of his anger take hold. Those emotions would make him reckless. He didn't have time for reckless.

* * *

Laura didn't know where they were. Or which direction they were headed. Suddenly the car made a sharp right turn, spinning her around. She heard the splash of water. Then the automobile jerked to a halt. She huddled into a ball, straining to hear anything the men might say. When they'd grabbed her, she had gotten only an impression of rough male features. She hadn't recognized either of their voices.

The wind whistled around the car, drafts of cold air pushing into the trunk. She heard what she thought was the groan of a tree. Or a human. She shuddered.

The trunk popped open and the sudden sunlight had her squinting into the glare.

“Get out.” The older of the two men popped a stick of gum in his mouth. He waved his handgun at her, motioning her out.

She tried, but with her hands tied behind her all she could manage was to get to her knees.

“Fletch, she needs help.” The second man, who looked barely over twenty-one, smirked. Lank dark hair, highlighted with a red stripe, fell over his eyes.

While he aimed his own gun at her, the man named Fletch gripped her upper arms and lifted her out of the trunk.

She wobbled, then found her footing. Fletch jammed his gun into her side. “Move it.”

She did, searching frantically for the best escape route. They were on a deserted country road, slick with red mud from the recent rain. There were small groupings of trees on both sides of the road, a couple of pines that might provide cover.

Why hadn't they already killed her? Was Griffin nearby? She might not have much time left. Teeth chattering from the cold, she yelled as loudly as she could, “Help! Somebody help!

The younger man laughed. “Nobody can hear you, lady.”

“You're surrounded!” A masculine voice boomed. “Drop your weapons!”

The kid's eyes grew as big as quarters. The disbelief on his face would've been comical in another situation.

Laura recognized Boone's voice. It came from behind them, around the corner.

“Do as the man says and lose those guns,” Sydney seconded.

Thank goodness they were here. Laura started to turn toward them. Fletch grabbed her arm in a bruising grip then shoved her behind the car. The younger man moved in front of her so she was stuck between the pair of them.

“Last chance,” a different male voice said.

Griffin. The fear crushing Laura's chest eased a tiny bit.

Behind her Fletch laughed, lifted up and fired over the back of the car. Gunfire erupted. Bullets hit the car, dinging metal, shattering glass.

Laura didn't know what to do. Slide under the car? Try to roll away? Neither idea sounded the best. She huddled into a ball, making herself as small as possible.

The younger of her two captors moved farther up the side of the four-door, shooting in bursts. Despite the cold, sweat prickled on her neck. The men on either side of her exchanged fire with Boone and Sydney. Laura flinched after each loud crack. She looked again for a place to run, a way to escape. It was a risk. So was staying put. She could be hit by a bullet either way.

Bullets whizzed past. For every round of shots from her captors, Boone, Sydney and Griffin returned fire. Their shots were spaced out, sparse, aimed at the specific area from where Fletch or the other guy fired.

Laura realized they were afraid she would be hit. So was she! How could she let them know where she was?

As soon as her captors began shooting again, she struggled to her feet and ran past them, away from the car and down the road. She knew they would shoot, but they would also give away their position. She had no doubt that Griffin, Boone and Sydney had better aim than the two clowns who had nabbed her.

A round plowed into the ground behind her. Another one burned past her ear. Two more shots cracked the air around her. She threw herself to the ground, flat against the mud.

Abruptly, silence descended. Shattering silence. Even the wind stopped.

“Laura!” Suddenly Griffin was there, bending over to cut off the flex cuffs. His strong arms helped her up and gathered her to him.

She burrowed close, sobbing.

“Are you hurt?”

“No,” she choked out. “Just scared.”

She lifted her head, seeing his concerned face through watery eyes. “Did you get them?”

He nodded, stroking her hair. “They're dead.”

Maybe she shouldn't have been relieved, but she was. She massaged her sore wrists. “Are Boone and Sydney all right?”

“Yes.” He kept an arm around her as he turned her around.

Boone and Sydney waved as they walked toward her.

Laura became aware of the red mud slicked all over the front of her coat. “I'm getting you dirty.”

He hugged her. “I don't care.”

“My dad?”

“He's fine. Ghost checked on him not too long ago.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I figured those jerks threatened him just to lure me out, but I wanted to know that he's all right. Thanks for sending Ghost to make sure.”

Boone walked up ahead of Sydney. “Sorry for shooting so close to you.”

“I appreciate y'all coming for me. It took me a minute to figure out you were trying to determine exactly where I was.”

“You're safe,” Sydney said. “That's what matters.”

“Thank you both so much.”

The female agent hugged Laura and Boone patted her shoulder. The four of them began walking toward the corner and the vehicles they'd driven. Laura didn't look at the bodies next to the brown four-door.

Sydney glanced over at Griffin. “We called the local cops. They're on their way.”

“I guess we'll have to answer all their questions, just like we had to at the clinic yesterday,” Laura said.

“Yes, sorry.” Griffin put an arm around her shoulders.

She smiled up at him. “I don't mind at all. I'm glad to still be here to answer questions.”

“I'm glad, too.” His arm tightened around her. “Very glad.”

* * *

Hours later, after answering questions from detectives and having Marshal Yates explain Laura's situation, this time to Oklahoma City's chief of detectives, Griffin and Laura headed back to his house. On the way, she asked him to stop for groceries so she could fix dinner for everyone.

He shook his head. “I know you're shaken up and need rest after your close call today.”

“I am a bit tired, but I really want to do this. There won't be another chance. Tomorrow will be my last day here.”

Griffin looked at her dubiously but relented. “All right.”

Once they arrived at Griffin's, she worked on dinner while he went to get his SUV pulled out of the ditch and towed to his mechanic to fix any damage. He had told her he planned to stop while in town to see if Ghost had any new information about Hughes, Inhofe or Thompson.