Reaching Rachel (14 page)

The officer looked at Rachel, then back at Justin, who laughed, his head thrown back like this was a funny television show.

“Officer,” Justin said, his southern drawl at its finest. “My girlfriend and I are having a disagreement, and she thought that racing out here and getting your attention would stop me from being upset with her. See, I found out she’s been screwing around behind my back. You could imagine how upset I am. I mean, look at her. She’s a fine piece of ass.”

Rachel stared at him, incredulous.
What?
She looked back at the officer, who was still watching them both warily. She knew Justin was convincing, so the officer probably believed him.

“You both need to get on your hands and knees and wait for my backup,” the officer demanded. “I don’t care what your domestic dispute is, but both of you came out of that truck running for my car, so all I know is, you could be threatening me.”

“Oh no, officer, not at all,” Justin said smoothly. “We’re very sorry for making you think we were trying to attack you. Would you so kindly give me my ticket so we can get on our way? We have some things to work out at home.”

“He’s
lying!
” Rachel screamed, tears streaming down her face. “If you let us go, he will
kill me!
Go look it up on your computer! One of the most wanted men in America right now is
right here in front of you
!”

Just then, another cop came flying up, screeching as he stepped on the brakes. Dust flew around the car as he stepped out, shouting for the other officer.

Justin took this moment to cross over and grab Rachel, putting his arm around her, restraining her. She closed her eyes, knowing what was coming next. It was like a bad movie, one that you can see the ending to. She was dead. She felt movement and then saw his other arm come out from behind him, and there it was. The gun she knew he had was now in his hand. He was swinging it back and forth, yelling, but she couldn’t hear anything. It sounded like she was under the water; muffled, muted.

Before she knew it, he was dragging her back to the truck, and there was so much noise. He was yelling, the cops were yelling, and she was crying. She couldn’t make sense of any of it. Why hadn’t they shot him? How was he still capable of dragging her to the truck and shoving her in?

Her head slammed against the steering wheel, making her scream in pain. He stood at the open door, the gun still pointed at the officers. Her head was swimming and she was seeing the black stars again. She heard a few shots, then felt the truck peeling out, racing away from the scene before blackness took over.

“Devin!” Andrew shouted across the office. “Get the team ready! We have a call in that two officers had Mark Stevenson in their sights. They had stopped him for a traffic violation and he had a young woman with him. She’s the one that told them who he was, so I don’t think she was with him willingly. Long story longer, they ended up in a shootout and he has fled the scene. They followed him to a house on the beach, where he seems to be barricaded in the house with this woman. We know from his track record this is
not
a good thing.”

“Who is she?” Devin asked. Andrew shook his head.

“We don’t know. The officers said she looked scared shitless, of course. We are looking now at who the owners are of the house he took her to, but that isn’t the top priority. We have what seems to be a hostage situation, and we need to get to that girl before he does to her what he did to the other one, if we aren’t too late already.”

Devin clenched his fists. He couldn’t believe that the prick was actually here, in their town. Oh, he wasn’t going to hurt anyone else. Not on his watch. Calling for the team, this would be Devin’s first situation he would be handling. He would of course have direction from his boss Andrew, as well as many other seasoned guys, but he was ready. He had been training, studying, and practicing. Now, taking down this bastard was up to him.

After securing the team, the vehicles, the weapons, and the body armor, they were on their way. It had been less than a half an hour since they first received the call. The officers were at the house now, trying to get the suspect to communicate with them in some way before the SWAT team arrived. To this point, they hadn’t received word of any correspondence between the suspect and the police. That made him nervous, because God only knew what was going on in that house.

Arriving on the scene, Devin surveyed the area before stepping out of his SUV. He could hear the waves crashing on the shore. It seemed peaceful, serene, but he knew it wasn’t. Canvassing the house, he saw it was a regular beach house, with access from both the front and back. It was up off the ground, meaning they were at a disadvantage for seeing inside.

Devin walked over to the team, his stomach a ball of nerves. He was ready for this, but he was scared. Not for what he was doing, but for the woman that was in there. He had seen the pictures of what this asshole had done to the woman that was still in a coma in Alabama. He didn’t want to make it two.

“Update?” Devin asked.

“We’ve had no contact from the suspect, and no noise from inside. There aren’t any neighbors home right now. We have officers all around the house, but as you can see, seeing inside is difficult. We are hoping to get infrared cameras in place to see where in the house they are very soon. Now that you guys are here, we will use a megaphone to try to get him to talk to us, and hope we can start negotiating to let the woman go.”

“We still don’t know anything about who she is?”

“No, but we have news channels showing up now,” he indicated a few trucks across the street. “So I’m sure someone will come forward soon.”

“Let’s hope we have her out of there by then,” Devin said, crossing his arms in front of him. “Let’s get the megaphone going, see if we can get this ass to respond to us.”

The negotiator stepped forward, walking as close to the house as was protocol so that he’d be safe. Raising the megaphone to his mouth, his voice boomed through. Devin knew the whole neighborhood, including everyone on the beach, would hear it.

“Mark Stevenson! SWAT team negotiator Tom here. We want to talk to you. Please call this number and tell us the girl is okay.” He then rattled off Andrew’s phone number. Andrew stood to the side, watching the phone. Nothing. Tom tried again, still with no response. Devin paced, knowing the longer that he didn’t respond, the more dangerous the situation was going to get.

Justin looked out the front windows, seeing the cars parked all up and down the street. The team was huddled in the driveway, making their game plan. He knew that they had surrounded the house already too. There was no getting out of here alive. Stupid bitch. It was all Rachel’s fault. She had to get smart and flee from the truck and start spouting shit to the cops.

Looking over his shoulder, he looked at her. She was tied to a dining room chair, and her head was lolling to one side, blood trickling down her temple. She was passed out after he had tied her up, beat her senseless and had sex with her while tied up. It had fueled him, her cries and begging to stop, to let her go. He knew the injuries he had given her were enough to keep her passed out for a while, but not critical enough to make her die. He needed her, but he just couldn’t fucking listen to her for one more second begging, pleading, and apologizing.

It was his damn fault for picking a strong willed one. Had she been anything like the previous one, he would’ve never been detected. But he had to go and get dumb because she was model gorgeous and great in bed. Now he was looking at an impossible situation where it would only end in one of two ways—him dead or locked up. Neither was happening. Not now, not ever.

He heard the booming voice of Tom again, trying to get him to call them. He had been attempting for over an hour now to get him to respond. He knew they were getting antsy, and if he didn’t give them something, they would probably blow up the fucking door to get in here.

Picking up Rachel’s cell phone, he called the number he had memorized. It was answered almost immediately.

“Mark?” Justin cringed. He hated that name. He left that name in Alabama. “Can you tell us that the girl is okay?”

Justin looked over at Rachel again, who was stirring slightly. “She’s fine. I’m not coming out or giving her up without getting something out of it, so you can fucking forget it.”

“We want to help you, Mark,” the guy named Tom said in his gentle, easygoing negotiator way. “But we need you to talk to us, and let us know she’s okay. What’s her name, Mark?”

Rachel blinked open her eyes, fear crossing her face as she remembered who he was and where she was. He smiled, stepping toward her. She cringed, her whole body stiffening. Her arm hurt like a bitch, and she couldn’t move it. Then she remembered why, and she looked down. Wearing only a tee shirt, it all came flooding back to her, and she began crying.

“She’s just fine, aren’t you baby,” Justin cooed evilly, brushing his lips over hers.

“Mark, we need you to release the girl to us. Then we’ll talk to you, figure out what we can do.”

He laughed. “Are you serious right now? Do you think I’m the dumbest fuck on the planet? The second you have her, you will storm this house and kill me. She’s my only bargaining chip out of here.”

“Is that what you want, Mark? For us to let you walk out of here? You know that’s not possible. You’re wanted on federal charges.”

Justin stalked to the back window, watching the waves crash against the shore. He had no fucking idea what to do right now. Rachel was his only ticket, but he knew they would never let him walk. He might as well kill her and then himself at this point, because he sure as fuck wasn’t going to jail.

“Mark? Mark?”

Justin looked at the phone, then across the room where his gun was laying on the table. Was that really his only option? He hung up the phone. He needed to think, and fast.

“Infrared cameras are in place,” Chris, one of the other SWAT team members, announced. “They’re in the living room of the house, which is right next to the kitchen. We can make out both of them, and the girl is still alive. What’s the status of the negotiation?”

Tom sighed. “He hung up on me. I’m afraid he knows the routine. And if he’s getting desperate, you know we don’t have much time left before he does something stupid.”

“That’s
not
happening,” Devin said emphatically. “We will
not
let this woman be another victim any more than she already has been. We have to get in there and get her.”

“I agree,” Andrew stepped up. “We know where they are, and if we surround the house, we can distract him at one door while we come in the other one.”

“You don’t think he has any explosives or anything more than the gun in there?” Devin questioned. He couldn’t handle busting in there to find a dead woman.

“He wasn’t planning on this happening today,” Andrew answered. “The cops that stopped him only figured out who he was because the girl ran out of the truck, screaming and crying. I would bet he only has the gun that he had there. If he would’ve planned this hostage, I wouldn’t feel as confident. I think we can take him down rather easily.”