Steele Resolve (The Detective Jasmine Steele Series Book 1) (13 page)

Chapter Nine

 

Bolting upright in bed, I feel the sweat pouring from my forehead into my eyes. Breathing heavy, I grab my chest almost willing my hand to control my pounding heart. Shaking, fighting fresh tears, I move off the bed. Frankie could sleep through a nuclear blast, and this is one night I am thankful for that. My phone vibrates and I pick it up. Still fighting the real feel of my nightmare, I walk into the bathroom and answer my phone.

"Hello?"

"Miss me?"

"What do you want?"

"It's been awhile. Didn't want you to think I forgot about you."

"What do you want?"

"One track mind I see."

"No, I just want answers."

"Answers are given when warranted. Right now you don't deserve any."

"Well, I'm not on the case anymore. Call the officer who cares."

"You ought to start caring."

“I don’t know what you want from me.”

I hear him laugh a bit in the background.

“Have you ever wanted something to go away, to fade into a faraway existence?”

“We all have some time or another.”

“Well that’s the problem. No matter what I do, you just don’t seem to go away.”

Looking at my tired reflection in the mirror, I know I’m not fit to win this battle anymore. Going with my gut, I say something I pray won’t be wrong.

“I remember you that night, so drunk you couldn’t hold your head up in the back of the cruiser. Tyler protected you. Two bodies on your hands with slaps on the wrist and a record sealed. Yet, you come to work and there is my face reminding you every day you murder my family, huh, Garrison?”

I hear something drop over the phone.

“It’s not just about me. It’s about what is right. You couldn’t leave well enough alone.” He speaks in his normal, unmodified voice.

“Where are you?”

“Does it matter? I have ears to the ground, money to throw at people and a father who doesn’t need a dark spot on his family record. You should be thanking me, detective. Without me, you wouldn’t have had such a drive to get as powerful as you did. Hell, you’d probably still be a beat cop and I’d be your boss.”

“Tell me where you are and I’ll show you how thankful I really am.”

He laughs on the other end of the line.

“You think I’m alone in this endeavor? You think I don’t have help? I’m right where I need to be, watching a beautiful scene unfold of blood and gore. Some cheerleader’s about to bite it, I think. God, I love these films. Such a rush.”

Realization hits me hard. Standing up and squeezing my phone as tight as possible I manage to compose myself.

“If you hurt her…”

“You’d have to be here to stop me and right now I think I’ve got a head start on you.”

The phone line dies in my hand. Walking out into the bedroom, I grab my clothes from the night before along with my small ankle pistol. Grabbing my police issued weapon on the table I get dressed as quickly as possible. Frankie stirs slightly in bed and I stop my movements. Opening the door, I exit the bedroom as quietly as possible.

In the living room, Will lies on a chair, dead to the world around him. I’m sure if there was an intruder he’d wake up but right now I am thankful he sleeps so hard. Lifting the keys to his car, I leave the safe house.

Thoughts of Hadley fill my mind, terrifying me at what he could be doing to her right now. Slamming the button on the elevator, I will it to move faster if only to calm my nerves. Holding out my cell phone I dial James’s number, but it goes directly to voicemail. The elevator arrives and I jump inside, slamming the garage floors button. I try James again, but his voicemail comes on again.

When the doors open again, I’m out the door rushing to the car. Hoping in, it takes me maybe fifteen minutes to drive the deserted streets to Hadley’s film set. The flood lights illuminate the buildings above it, but the surrounding are pitch black. Flipping off the headlights, I bring the car to a stop. I drop my cell phone on the passenger seat, powered on. Getting out I close the door as quietly as possible. Closing the door, I pull out my gun and hold it out in front of me. My gut screams for me to call backup, but my heart overrides the smart thing to do. Walking to the gate, I find it open, unlike this morning. Slipping into the blackness, my eyes begin to adjust to the darkness.

Sliding in between the trailers, I look for the large gold star on the door. Slowly, checking around every corner, beneath each trailer, I finally come across Hadley’s. Pulling the door open, I hold my gun out. I get one foot forward before James pops out in front of me, scaring the crap out of me.

“What the hell are you doing? Where’s Hadley?” I whisper to him.

“Jesus,” he stops and takes a step back. “She’s on set,” he replies finally calm. “Calm down, I’ll take you there.”

He walks a few steps in front of me before turning back.

“Will you put that thing away? You know how Hadley hates to make a scene in front of the big wigs. Not like you’d be able to fire that thing straight with one busted hand.”

Sliding my gun back into its holster, I leave the safety off. I don’t know who to trust and if I’ve got to grab it quickly, I don’t need a restraint.

“Trust me, I could shoot it with a busted hand, blindfolded, hoping on one foot and on deaths door. Adrenaline is an amazing thing. You didn’t answer your phone.”

“I’ve been pretending not to be a cop all day, sorry, but no phones on set. Something about interference with the microphones.”

“You didn’t think to check in? Maybe check your voicemail? Or maybe turn your damn phone on when you weren’t near the equipment?”

“Truthfully, no.”

James and I walk around the major set builds and head toward a large brick building in the back. My hair stands up on the back of my neck and I am not feeling good about this at all.

“Where we going?”

“To see Hadley.” James walks a little faster ahead of me and it’s the first time I really doubt him. The way he was walking, ignoring me, it’s something I never noticed before. I should have, but I was too busy dealing with everything else to truly pay attention. Now, I’m following him into God knows what and I have a bad feeling.

Walking up to the door, James looks through a small window before knocking on the door. It sounded hollower than I would have thought as he pounded on the door again.

“Thought they were filming?

“Nah, they’re just being annoying and not answering the damn door.”

“I guess.”

James takes a step away from the door and shakes his head. Moving past him, I glance through the window. Stacks of crates, palettes and other garbage litter the floor making it a maze of sorts, but no people or camera equipment.

“You sure they can hear you?” I say as I turn around to face the barrel of James’ gun.

“What are you doing James?”

“What I was hired to do.”

“By?”

The door comes to life, but I keep my focus on James. With every clank of the door, my heart beats faster. I know who’s behind it, but what they’re going to do is another story. After an agonizing few seconds, the door stops its operation.

“Turn around and walk.”

I turn my back to James and walk into the warehouse. I know I still have both my weapons on me, but I have to be careful with my timing.

“Stop.”

James moves around behind me and I hear the door shutter to life again. It feels like it closes much faster but that could also be my nerves.

“You know you’re gonna be screwed after this right?”

“We all have our roles to play, detective. Personally, I will be relaxing in a country with no extradition when this is over.”

“Garrison’s father paid you.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna be free.”

“Drop your gun and kick it behind you.”

I lift up my holstered weapon and place it on the floor. Using my right leg, I push it softly behind me. I hear James chuckle.

“I’m not dumb, kick it further.”

I comply pushing the gun further away from me. I hear the metal scrape the ground as he picks it up. I hear him walk up behind me before he presses the gun to the base of my skull. His hands roaming all over my body making my skin crawl. Sliding down my back, feeling between my thighs all the way down to my ankles. He stops.

“What do we have here?”

He pulls up my pant leg and reveals my piece. He removes the holster completely before standing back up to face me.

“Should have told me you had more than one. I mean I’m being honest and you’re lying by omission.”

“You’re a cop, you should have known.”

In one swift motion, I feel my gun smacking me in the side of the head. Falling to the ground hard, I land on my hands to protect my head. My cast takes the brunt of the fall, cracking, and my hand pulses with pain as I lay there.

James stands over me and pulls my right arm behind my back. He presses his right knee into my spine, holding me in place while he wraps a set of handcuffs around my cast and locks them. Pulling on my left arm, he cuffs my other hand and attaches it to the other set. The pressure on my back leaves but then he pulls me up by the cuffs causing my shoulders to scream. Standing, I look him in the eye for the first time. The slightly red hued color I assume is due to the blood in my eye.

“Next time, don’t reply. It’s unbecoming of a lady.” James pulls me forward and heads to the back of the building. After stumbling down a flight of stairs, he pulls open a heavy steel door and throws me inside the pitch black room. I kick the door frantically until I hear a soft crying sound behind me.

“Who’s there?”

“Jasmine?”

“Hadley? Where are you?” I feel around with my feet trying to touch anything. The room is much larger than I expected. Moving forward until I hit another wall, I slither along the floor trying to gain where she is. I stop only when I bump something.

“Hadley, grab my arm.”

“Where are you?”

“Right next to you, just grab my arm and help me up.”

“You’re not next to me, Jazz.”

My heart stops at her words. Turning around I slide up and feel the neck of the person on the floor. Feeling around, I find no pulse.

“Who was in here with you?”

“My assistant, Miranda,” she sputters between sobs. Pulling myself up to a sitting position I follow the cries to the other end of the room. Finally, I feel Hadley’s foot. Before I can say a word, she grabs me and cries on my shoulder.

“She was just helping me. She was doing her job and James just…” she continues to cry.

“Hey, you gotta take a breath okay? I need you to calm down just a bit and tell me what happened.”

“I was working on a really annoying scene in my trailer. I had James running lines for me as the bad guy. Then he started to change up the lines.” I hear her take a deep breath before continuing. “He started talking about some beach and the promise of never having to do some trashy films again. I laughed at him and told him that wasn’t in the script. He looked me straight in the eyes and grabbed my hand, told me he wasn’t reading the script. He wanted me to leave with him, said something about being able to protect me from some big bad. Told me he’d give me everything I ever wanted.”

“I assume you said no since you’re sitting here.”

“I didn’t think he was serious. I mean, he’s a cop that was sent to protect me. Crap like that only happens in the movies, you know?”

“What happened then?”

“I politely refused. He wouldn’t let go. I made him talk in an octave or two higher than he normally does as I broke free and ran outside. I was running and screaming before I saw some guy with a gun pointed at me.”

“Not James?”

“No, shorter. Built differently, darker hair, green eyes…”

“You noticed all that?”

“I’m an actress not a dumbass. Besides, that’s all I saw before someone whacked me over the head. I figure it must have been James since I’ve only heard two voices out there. This room is a really big echo chamber.”

Before I can answer the door swings open and the lights are flipped on, blinding me instantly. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to let them adjust slowly, but I’m defenseless against whatever they have planned. I feel the handcuffs being removed before I’m pulled to my feet. My eyes slowly adjust to the light around me and I can faintly make out what looks like the rusted walls of an old freezer. Looking around I see what I think is James standing in front of me. He puts the handcuffs back on my cast and wrist in front of my body this time. I try to fight him as he lifts my arms above my head and attaches them to a hook. I hear a motor move as the chain lifts the hook and me slightly off the ground. My broken hand screams in pain as I try to block it out.

“Couldn’t think of a unique torture?” I cough out to James. He responds by punching me in the stomach. I try to laugh but he punches me across the face. My vision finally clears, I spit the blood in my mouth on his face. James doesn’t wipe it off, he just punches me in the gut a few more times. I hear Hadley screaming in the background, but it makes no difference.

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