Taken - Before her very Eyes (10 page)

Summer stepped behind Nate,
edging toward the door. “I’m going in there.”

“Like hell! That’s just what he
wants.”

“I have no choice. Look at me.
I’m a mess. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again. The only hope I have is
to face my fears and that means John Scott. If he ends up walking out of here,
I may never get a chance to tell him what a piece of shit he really is.”

“I can’t.” Nate placed a hand on
the door. “I just can’t let you go in there by yourself. What if he tries
something? What if he hurts you again?”

“He’s chained to the desk. How
much of a threat can he be?” Summer closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. She
held it for ten seconds then let it go. “Do I have to remind you, I am a cop? I
know how to handle shit like him.”

The look in Nate’s eyes told her
everything. As much as she wanted to see the same silly smirk on his face and
the cocked left eyebrow that he regularly gave her whenever she’d proved him
wrong and pulled the impossible from her ass, it wasn’t there today. He knew
she wouldn’t be able to pull this one off and it hurt because she knew he was
right.

Nate removed his hand from the
door and reached for the handle. “I’m coming in with you.”

“No!”

“Yes, I am! And if you don’t like
it then you can shove it up your ass.”

Summer stopped with her hand on
the door handle, staring into Nate’s hardened face. She felt the anger building
inside and realized that her body felt stronger right now then it had in a long
time. A smirk crept onto her face and she reached up and patted Nate’s cheek.

“You’re just trying to piss me
off.”

“Is it working?”

Summer nodded and pulled the door
open. The chief was standing on the other side of the hall, anxiously waiting
for them to exit the room. He took a step toward them but stopped when Summer
turned suddenly and opened the interrogation room door.

“Summer, you can’t—”

“It’s okay, Chief. I’ll keep an
eye on her.” Nate followed her inside and softly closed the door behind. “I’ll
be right over here if you need me. If he so much as whispers an obscene word to
you, I’ll close those puffy eyes for good.”

Summer walked slowly across the
room toward the table. The strength that Nate had instilled in her was fading
fast and the nervous spasms were threatening to rupture through her control and
send her into a jittering mess. She glanced over at the one way mirror and even
though she couldn’t see him, she knew Chief Dickson was standing behind the
mirror watching her reaction.

How could this one man have
caused so much pain and suffering? Summer swallowed her fear and prayed that
her voice wouldn’t give out. “Who are you working for?”

John Scott never moved. He sat
there with a bored look on his face, like this was nothing more than an inconvenience.
A second later his slitted eyes slowly rose until he was staring directly into
Summer’s. It was hard to read him with his swollen face like that. She couldn’t
be sure if he was trying to play it cool and tuff, or if it just hurt too much
to move his lips.

“Where’s your partner at? Where’s
he taken my daughter?”

There was a slight change in his
expression. His eyes seemed to be taking in her whole face, contemplating who
she was and who her daughter might be.

“I know that you and the
kidnapper work for the same person. I heard him talking to your boss.”

“You’re that cop.” A half smile
crossed his swollen lips. “Officer Demure. I remember you now. I’ve heard all
the stories of how you finally got what was coming to you.”

“Don’t play innocent. You know
exactly what you did to me. I know it was you!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking
about. Last night I’m busy minding my own business, working to make some cash
when all of a sudden this cop busts in and drags me down here, then to top it
off they put this crazy fucker in my cell and let him pound the shit out of me.
When I get out of here, I’m suing. I’m suing that guard who left his station
and let that crazy fucker try to kill me.”

Summer felt her chest twitch and
crossed her arms to quiet the rumble. “You deserve to die. It’s bad enough what
you did to me, but you left me for dead. You left me to rot in that cold damp
ditch, but you underestimated me.”

“Woman, you’re almost as crazy as
that fucker in my cell. I don’t know what you guys are trying to pull, but you
have no evidence. Nothing to hold me on.”

“There’s conspiracy to traffic
drugs,” Nate said from the doorway. “Assault and battery. Attempted murder of a
police officer. The list goes on and on. If you think what happened with your
friend back in the cell was bad, you wait until the prison guards find out what
you’re in for. They’ll make this beating seem like a kiss from your
grandmother.”

Without removing his eyes from
Summer, John Scott said, “Which one of you guys is the good cop and which one
is the bad cop. If you ask me, you’re fucking up the whole routine.”

“We’re asking you for the name of
your boss.” Nate stepped forward, unable to contain himself. “Tell us who he is
and where to find him and we’ll make you a deal.”

“Deal?” John Scott laughed. “I
tried to cut a deal last night and look where it got me.”

“And what kind of deal were you
looking to cut?” Summer paced to the back of the room unable to stand being so
close to him. “Give some names and get out of jail.”

John Scott sat there quietly
waiting for Summer to make an offer.

“Cause if you cooperate and tell
us who you work for and where they took my daughter, then you’ll be free to
go.” She turned and met his gaze. “You have my word on it.”

“I still don’t know what you’re
talking about. So I make modifications to merchandise. That’s my business. What
other people do with the shit isn’t my concern. I have a job to do and that
all.”

“Fine.” Nate motioned for Summer
to come to the door. “If you’re not willing to talk, maybe we’ll send in your
old cellmate to keep you company.”

Nate waited until Summer passed
through then let the door slam shut. He glanced at his watch. “I thought he’d
be anxious to get out. We’re nearing the ransom deadline, but he’s acting like
he has no clue.”

“Well,” Chief Dickson said
popping out of the adjoining room. “That went about as good as Detective
Grimshaw’s interrogation. He’s still not saying anything, is he?”

Summer shook her head. “We still
have over an hour before he needs to be released. There’s no sense in letting
him go one second before the deadline.”

“Are you sure that’s what you
want to do?” Chief Dickson asked. “I mean, really sure that’s the best way to
attack this situation.”

“I have no choice. I’d love to
see him locked away for the rest of his life, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing we
do now will change what happened in the past. Sure I’m angry and could use some
good old fashioned revenge right about now, but for the last five months that’s
exactly what’s been holding me back, preventing me from getting better. I’ve
been counting the days, praying that he’d be caught so I could get some
satisfaction out of the system, but I realize now that just being alive is the
best thing I’ve got going on right now. What if I’d died back in that ditch?”
Summer turned to face Nate. “What if instead of finding me staggering beside
the road, cold, naked and half dead, you had to drag my lifeless body from the
cold stagnant water and bury me in the earth. Isn’t this better? After all, I’m
still alive.”

Nate nodded. “You’re right. I
don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t alive. It would’ve ripped me
apart, sent me off on a hunting mission for that bastard and probably destroyed
the rest of my life.”

“Come on, let’s go to my office
and get you two some coffee.” Chief Dickson led the way down the hall, past the
curious eyes in the station. “They’ve got your phone charging in there and
we’ll take a break and plan our next step.”

Chief Dickson paused outside the
office door and turned to the nearest officer. “Get the sketch artist over to
the hospital right away. I want a composite as soon as Mr. Demure is able.”

When he turned and closed the
door on the buzz of noise in the main station, the silence seemed to surround
Summer, smothering her and crushing her under its weight.

With the effects of the
anaesthetic wearing off, and the shot of morphine kicking in, dulling the
aching pain in his stomach, Dean slowly climbed from the bed and gathered his
clothing from the locker. Everything was there except for his shirt. The
paramedics had cut that completely off when he was lying in the ambulance.

After struggling to slip on his
pants without falling over, Dean withdrew the IV line from his arm then
systematically removed the series of wires from his body while deactivating the
alarms that would alert the nurse about his flat lining pulse.

There was no way he could stay in
the hospital while Sabrina was still in danger. The doctors had patched him up
enough, but now he needed to act, not rest. He knew exactly where to go. He had
to pay Gavin Stone a little visit and find out what the hell was going on. All
fingers were pointing in Gavin’s direction. After all, he was the one with the
criminal past. The one most likely to have connections with dangerous people.
He might even be the cause of all of this—Or maybe the solution.

Glancing out the door, the
hallway was quiet. The nurse on duty had just disappeared into the next room
with a tray, so Dean quickly slipped out and headed down the hall in the
opposite direction with his hospital gown flowing down over his bloodstained
jeans. He dipped into the supply closet at the end of the hall, beside the
stairway, and traded his gown for a less noticeable green smock then dashed into
the stairwell.

Fifteen seconds later, he was
standing in the bright morning sunlight, shivering as the early morning chill
hung in the autumn air. Luck seemed to be on his side. A taxi was sitting,
waiting at the front of the hospital and he was in need of a lift.

“29 Chestnut Street,” Dean said,
easing himself into the backseat, suddenly aware of how painful the stab wound
was.

“You all right, buddy?” The cab
driver was watching Dean’s facial expressions in the mirror. “Looks like you
should be going to the hospital instead of leaving it.”

“Never mind.” Dean groaned. “I’ll
live.”

“If you say so?”

The drive across the city was
never so painful. They seemed to hit each and every bump on the way and Dean
had to bite his lip so hard to keep from screaming out, that he actually drew
blood. When the taxi finally came to a stop outside Gavin’s home, Dean was
never so happy. He slid so slowly across the seat that the driver came around
to offer him a hand, but froze when his eyes locked on Dean’s bloodstained pants.

“Just a little knife accident.”
Dean grabbed the side of the door and pulled himself out, fighting to keep from
screaming in pain. “Slipped and cut myself. It’s nothing serious, just
painful.”

The driver nodded. “Oh…”

Dean could tell he wasn’t buying
it so he withdrew his wallet and gave him two twenties. “Keep the change.”

Standing on the sidewalk, Dean
drew a deep breath and concentrated on walking a straight line to the front
door. The last thing he needed right now was to have the cops show up while he
was breaking into Gavin’s home.

When the taxi was a safe distance
down the road, he rang the bell, knowing Gavin would be down at the office
working away or off dealing with a customer. Dean had to wonder if one of those
customers was behind all this. And the only way to find out was to get inside
and search this place.

With no answer, Dean tried the
front door. It was locked. He checked the usual hiding spots for a spare key
but found none and decided to follow the pathway around the house, into the side
yard. With large bushes and shrubs hiding him from view, Dean grabbed a small
rock and smashed the lower pane of glass on the side door then reached inside
and flipped the lock.

Taking a quick glance back down
the pathway, making sure nobody was coming, he slipped through the door and
stood in Gavin’s kitchen. It wasn’t anything fancy. Your run of the mill
starter home, but after living in prison for the last eight years, Dean guessed
anything was better than a 10x10 cell.

Dean made his way straight to the
bathroom medicine cabinet and rummaged through the contents for some
painkillers. The morphine shot was beginning to wear off. His whole stomach
felt like it was on fire, burning away at the flesh and muscle.

There were plenty of prescription
bottles of pills to choose from, more than the average person would have in a
life time and Dean wondered if a doctor had prescribed all these narcotics or
if Gavin had picked them up off the street corner. Either way Dean was glad for
the selection. He plucked a bottle of Percocet from the cabinet and after
popping the lid, swallowed two, then pocketed the bottle for later.

Dean headed straight for the work
area in the living room. It seemed to be the most logical place that Gavin
would keep any secrets about who his business associates were. “There’s got to
be something here that’ll make sense of this whole mess.”

Rummaging through the stacks of
papers on the desk, Dean came up empty handed. There didn’t seem to be anything
out of the ordinary. Everything was laid out nice and neat, well organized
considering Gavin’s office at work. That place was a complete mess and Dean
wondered how he found anything in the pile of trash stacked on the desk.

Dean searched through each
drawer, feeling for any false bottoms, but came up empty again. He’d given up
his search and was replacing the contents of the middle drawer when he felt the
coldness of steel on the back of his hand. After removing the drawer, Dean bent
down and carefully removed the handgun and magazine from the clip mounted under
the desk.