Taken - Before her very Eyes (15 page)

“Drop the gun!”

“Dean,” Summer said. “Put it
down! It’s not worth it.”

Dean heard her voice, but
couldn’t look away from John Scott. He waited, giving John Scott a chance to
say something about Sabrina again, because if he did, Dean was ready to put a
bullet between his eyes.

“What the hell are you doing?”
John Scott held his hands up to fend off the bullet. “You’re crazy. You’ll
never get away with this.”

Dean lowered the gun and Nate
quickly grasped it, taking it away. “Dean, don’t pull that shit. You know we
need him alive.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said, rolling
to his side and attempting to get to the sitting position. “I lost my head when
he started taking about—”

“No, he’s here. He’s free to go,
but I want to talk to Sabrina,” Summer glanced at Dean and Nate crouched on the
ground before John Scott, “before he leaves.”

She listened, her face hardening
with each passing second. “No! I want to talk to her. How do I know you’ll keep
your word and let her go?”

A second later a smile filled her
face and she dropped to her knees. “Oh, baby. I miss you so much. Are you—god
damn it!” Summer glanced over at John Scott. “Yeah he’s standing right here.”
Summer walked over and held out the phone to John Scott. “He wants to talk to
you.”

“I don’t want anything to do with
this. Tell him to go fuck himself.” John Scott glared down at Dean. “Better
yet, tell him to go fuck your little girl, too.”

Dean tried to get to his feet,
but Summer beat him to it. She slapped John Scott so fast that he didn’t see it
coming.

“That’s more like it.” A smile
covered John Scott’s face. “You like to play rough, don’t you?”

A whistling noise tore through
the air and suddenly John Scott’s head exploded before Dean’s eyes. It was
unreal how he was standing there talking, then the next second, the back of his
head was gone. Just exploded right off! Dean watched as John Scott’s body
collapsed to the ground at his feet, sprawled out like a puppet—a bloodied
puppet at that.

The crowd was silenced for a
second until they realized exactly what had happened, then as if everyone
sensed the danger, they dispersed in a heated panic. The police stood guard,
guns drawn, looking for the shooter, but there was nobody in sight.

Summer stood with the phone in
her hand, unable to comprehend what had just happened. She’d seen it all and
doubted she’d ever forget the image of John Scott’s skull exploding, showering
his twisted, demented mind all over the glass doors. At first she thought Dean
had pulled the trigger and she wouldn’t have blamed him if he had, but that
little handgun could never do the amount of damage that had occurred. It looked
more like a sniper’s bullet and sounded like it’d been fired from a long
distance away.

She slowly walked behind John
Scott’s body, careful not to slip in the gooey brain matter and stared out into
the distance where she thought the bullet had come from. She should’ve been
afraid for her life. After all, a sniper had just sent a bullet into this exact
location, but she wasn’t scared. She was angry. Angry that someone had used her
and used Sabrina’s safety to silence this man. Summer knew that the shooter
would be running for cover, evacuating the area as fast as he could, or if he
had balls of steel he might be sitting there watching her through the scope of
the gun, waiting for the order to take her down. But there was no need to take
her down and suddenly Summer wondered if the shooter was actually there to help
her. There like a powerless super hero taking care of crime in the city.

“What was that!” The kidnapper’s
voice sounded high and shrill. “Was that a gunshot? You better hope for your
daughter’s sake that it wasn’t aimed at John Scott.”

Summer swallowed hard, fearing
the worst was about to come. “It wasn’t us. Someone sniped him right before our
eyes.”

“Fuck! I knew this would happen.
I just knew it! They wanted him silenced and they did it. Fuck! What the hell
am I supposed to do now?”

“First, let Sabrina go.” Summer
grabbed a pair of binoculars from Jones and scanned the countryside. “I’ve kept
my part of the bargain. Now, it’s time for you to keep your end.”

“But he’s dead!” the kidnapper
began ranting. “You said so yourself. What good is he if he’s dead? They’ll
kill me if I don’t bring him back. I can’t go back now. I’ve got to get away
from here.”

“Then let Sabrina go and leave.
There’s no harm done. We’ll forget this whole thing ever happened.”

There was muffled silence as the
kidnapper seemed to be rolling with the changes, and Summer hoped he was smart
enough to get out while he could.

“I’ll need money. I’ll have to
lay low for a while. There’s a change of plans.”

“Mommy?”

Summer’s heart leapt into
overdrive. Every emotion was surging through her body simultaneously. The sound
of Sabrina’s voice was unbelievable.

“Put her on. Please, let me talk
to her.”

“Shut up and get back in the
car!”

Summer heard a stifled cry then
the sound of a car door slamming shut.

“Get me a hundred thousand.” The
connection broke up for a second. “And be ready to make a drop wherever I tell
you.”

“But we had a deal! You can’t do
this! This isn’t fair.” The line went dead and Summer couldn’t believe her
luck. She was so close. He’d brought Sabrina with him to make the drop and he
was going to release her, just like he said he would.

Chief Dickson finished giving the
orders to secure the area and search the countryside where the shot had come
from, then rushed to Summer’s side. “Where is he? What did he say?”

Summer folded the phone closed
and met his gaze. “He’s got her in a car.” She swallowed the lump in her
throat. “He was going to let her go. I was so close. So fucking close!”

Nate lifted Dean to his feet and
held him in place.

“He wants a hundred thousand,”
Summer drew a deep breath, “and he wants me to drop it off when he calls.”

“A hundred grand. By when?” Nate
looked to the chief, knowing he would have to organize the money for the drop,
even if it involved faking the bundles.

“He didn’t say how long, only to
have it ready for when he calls.”

Nate looked bewildered at the
kidnapper’s lack of planning. “That could be anytime. An hour, five hours.
What’s he playing?”

“The shooting took him by
surprise.” Summer paced to the glass doors and back. “He thinks they’ll kill
him next if he doesn’t disappear.”

Gavin stepped up behind Dean,
placing an arm around his waist and steadied him. “And he wants enough money to
hold him over until the shit settles?”

Summer stared at Gavin standing
next to Dean and realized for the first time that they had the same colour
eyes, but somehow Dean’s looked softer and more caring. She studied Gavin’s
face for a second and thought she could see real concern in his eyes. “Looks
that way.”

“Dean, we’ve got fifty in the company
account and we can borrow the other fifty from the credit account if you want.
It’ll pretty much tap the fucking business out, but at least it’ll satisfy the
ransom and get Sabrina back.”

“Go get it.” Dean nodded. “And
bring it back here. I’ll call the bank and confirm the withdrawal.”

“No, Dean, don’t do it,” Nate
said. “There’s no sense. This guy’s an amateur. He’s not thinking straight
right now. Bring me ten thousand, tops, and we’ll mix it with some
counterfeit.” Nate looked to Chief Dickson for approval. “I promise he’ll never
know the difference.”

Gavin was standing, anxiously
waiting to leave, hanging on Dean’s decision.

“No.” Dean shook his head. “It’s
only money. I won’t risk Sabrina’s safety by short changing him. Money means
nothing if I don’t get Sabrina back.”

Summer couldn’t believe Dean. He
was risking everything he had to get Sabrina back. His health, his money and
his business. What more could she want from him? He’d always been the perfect
man for her and she’d pushed him away.

“A hundred then?” Gavin waited
until Dean nodded, then ran down the steps and through the crowded parking lot,
drawing attention from every reporter.

The second Gavin tore off, a
second car came racing toward them. There was nervous excitement buzzing
through the crowd, and after the shooting, they could only guess what kind of
maniac would drive up to the police station like a madman.

“Shit,” Chief Dickson said,
shaking his head. “He’s back.”

Summer watched as Grimshaw pulled
the car into the parking lot as far as he could, then jumped out. He was
gripping an envelope tightly in his hand and Summer realized where he’d
disappeared to after the altercation in the chief’s office. He’d gone crying to
Judge Lynch and pleaded his case. And by the look on his face and the death
grip on that envelope, he’d gotten just what he’d set out for.

The crowd of reporters were
throwing out question after question to the detective, but he was in no mood to
answer any as he charged through the crowd, his eyes flickering between Chief
Dickson and Nate.

When Summer looked over at Nate,
he had a big satisfied grin plastered on his face. A stark contrast to the chief’s
tight lipped glare at the man who’d undermined his authority. She knew the chief
could remain calm and keep his cool, but it was Nate she was worried about. He
was waiting, praying for the moment to knock the detective down a notch.

It was when Grimshaw stepped
between the lines of reporters, standing at the base of the stairs that his hard
black eyes dropped from the chief’s face, to the lifeless body at the top of
the stairs. Instantly his glare was reduced to a look of shock. What had
happened to John Scott seemed to be outside his realm of understanding. He
looked completely dumbfounded at the prospect of all his hard work being
destroyed in the time it’d taken him to get the court order.

“What the hell?” Grimshaw said,
standing at the top of the stairs, gazing down at the huge crater where John
Scott’s brain and skull had been.

Chief Dickson plucked the papers
from Grimshaw’s hand while he was busy examining the scene. He unfolded them
and gave a quick glance over while shaking his head. “You went to Judge Lynch.
I can’t believe he authorized this. What the hell are you trying to pull here,
Grimshaw?”

“What am I trying to pull?” He
glared up at the chief. The bulging jaw muscles and pencil lips showed just how
pissed he was. More pissed than when Nate had almost snapped his wrist.

“I was trying to keep our
prisoner safe until we could try him for the crimes that we both know he’d
committed,” Grimshaw said. “But
you
had to go and fuck it all up. Why
couldn’t you leave the police work to the professionals and keep your nose out
of my business?”

“Why you insubordinate piece of
shit!” Chief Dickson crumpled the paper and dropped it beside John Scott’s body,
then walked to the front doors.

“Chief,” Nate said. “What are we
going to do with the crime scene?”

“We’re not going to do anything.
It’s not in our jurisdiction anymore. Detective Grimshaw has kindly taken Mr.
Scott off our hands, thanks to his friend Judge Lynch.”

Nate looked confused as he
followed the chief into the station. “Our jurisdiction? But this whole city is
our jurisdiction?”

Summer wanted no part in dealing
with John Scott’s murder and quickly stepped around the detective, who was
already eyeballing everyone in the area, and took Dean by the arm, escorting
him toward the entrance.

“Come inside, Dean.” Summer
tossed her hair back from her face as she stepped through the door. “You’re
starting to look worse than shit.”

“Worse than shit? Is that
possible?” Dean smiled. It was as if that perfect white smile had been hidden
from her for years. She’d forgotten how the bottom front teeth were only the
slightest bit askew. That littlest imperfection in his appearance reminded her
that he was only human.

He stumbled and staggered from
side to side as they headed toward the chief’s office and Summer knew if Dean
didn’t take it easy, and soon, that he would pass out and have to be rushed
back to the hospital. But that was the last place he would want to go. Even if
he dropped unconscious here in the hallway, she knew the second he came to in
the hospital that he’d make another break for it—and he’d be really pissed off,
too.

“Come on,” she said, pushing the
door open and guiding him inside the large office. She led him to the black
leather couch that Chief Dickson used as his own small break area and laid him
down. His colour was bad and his cold sweat didn’t make her feel any better
about his chance of staying there.

“Have you eaten anything this
morning?”

Dean lifted his right arm and
motioned to the bruised area where he’d ripped the IV out. “They said it was liquefied
bacon and eggs, but I think they were lying.”

“Always the smart ass.” Summer
opened the small bar fridge, grabbed an orange juice and a chocolate bar from
the chief’s stash. “But never very smart.”

“Smart enough not to stand behind
that bastard out there.”

“Yeah, I’m glad the shooter only
had one person in mind.” Summer shook her head. “Sorry. Is that wrong to think
John Scott deserved to die out there?”

“If someone had to die today, I’m
glad it was him.” Dean downed half the juice and started nibbling on the
chocolate. “You think it was planned?”

Summer gave him a curious look.
“You think it was just a coincidence that someone snipped the man the minute he
stepped out of jail. They already tried to kill him while he was inside, and
when that didn’t happen then they waited until he stepped outside and blew his
head clean off his shoulders.” She shuttered at the memory. “But why would they
want him silenced. What did he do to piss them off that they wanted him dead?”