ChasingShadows (25 page)

Alex cursed under his breath as he made out the darkened
porch. With guns drawn, they made their way to the front door. The deadbolt was
loose and broken, the door unlocked. “Shit,” he muttered.

He should have fixed the light and lock two days ago, as
he’d promised. Dread flitted through him as he hoped he wouldn’t live to regret
it.

They slipped across the threshold and closed the door behind
them with a soft snick.

“Take the kitchen and family room,” Alex whispered,
pointing. “Meet me back here.”

He didn’t like the eerie hush of the house.

His pulse quickened as he moved from room to room. Since
there was no furniture in the living room and dining room, he didn’t need to
flip on the lights. Illumination from the nightlights didn’t reveal any unusual
shadows.

Alex crossed into Juliana’s office, flicked on the light.
Nothing. The bathroom and closets were empty. He moved back to the foyer where
James waited.

“All clear,” James said in a low voice and pointed up the
stairs.

Alex ascended the stairs slowly. “You take the left,” he
whispered over his shoulder.

Approaching the master bedroom, he was acutely cautious of
the light angling through the partly open door. Primed and ready, he nudged the
door open with his foot.

A black ball of fur lunged for his legs.

Son of a bitch!
The cat damn near startled the words
out of his mouth. The fuzzy black animal rubbed against Alex’s boots, purring
loud enough for Alex to feel the vibrations. JB darted away and jumped onto the
bed. He arched his back and hissed at the floor on the other side.

The hair rose on Alex’s neck as he spotted the stuffed
overnight bag on the floor. Juliana had been there, but where was she now?

Dead, on the other side of the bed? The thought froze his
blood.

No, she was still alive. He’d feel it otherwise.

He scanned the room, slowly creeping toward the bed. Only a
few seconds had passed since the cat crashed into him, but it felt like hours.
He halted at the side of the bed closest to the door. Faint breathing and the
rustle of fabric emerged from the other side.

Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the ice in his veins.

James came up behind Alex, startling him into action. Alex
put his index finger on his lips and pointed at the bed.

“She’s not in here,” Alex said loudly. “She must have
skipped out on us again.” He motioned for James to skirt the bed while he
climbed on top, the box springs thankfully silent.

With trained synchronicity, Alex and James made their move.
They came face to face with the immobile form of Chad Shelby and a .38 special.

Chapter Fourteen

“Drop the gun!” Alex bellowed as he trained his revolver on
Shelby.

“Well, well, well,” Shelby croaked, his eyes glazed over.
“If it isn’t lover-boy and his sidekick.” Eyelids drooped in a ghostly white
face.

“Lay down the gun. Now!” Alex commanded, prepared to jump on
Shelby.

But Shelby made no move to comply. Given the unsteadiness of
his hand, Alex guessed he was injured.

“Drop the gun, slide it over to me.” James’ rigid form
towered over Shelby.

Shelby’s eyes closed. James seized the advantage and slammed
his foot onto Shelby’s open hand. Howls of agony and rage erupted from the
prone man.

Alex leaped off the bed and snatched up the dropped weapon.
Both men leveled their guns on Shelby, who writhed on the floor, cradling his
battered hand against his chest.

“Where is she?” Alex asked through gritted teeth.

“Who?” Shelby taunted, his voice muffled by pain.

“Game’s over.” James raised a foot, poised to kick Shelby
again.

Shelby attempted to roll away, but his handcuff leash
stopped him. “I came here to protect your source.” His Adam’s apple bobbed.
“You were stupid enough to leak her name to the press.”

Incredulity siphoned the blood from his face. “Are you
insane?” Alex steadied his gun as the barrel closed in on Shelby’s damp, pasty
face. “Tell me where she is or I’ll blow your fucking brains out. I’m pissed
off enough to do it.” His gaze remained fixed on Shelby’s disgusting face. “How
‘bout it, James, self-defense?”

“Shelby pulled a gun on MacKenzie, fired, missed. MacKenzie
shot back in self-defense, bullet right between the eyes,” James rattled off as
though reporting to his superior officer. “I saw it happen, Captain.”

Alex cocked his weapon. “A bullet hole in the ceiling will
prove you shot first.”

The acrid odor of fear drifted up from Shelby as he stared
at them wide-eyed. James leveled his foot over Shelby’s cuffed wrist, and began
easing it down. Sweat dripped off Shelby’s face as he convulsed into sobs. “I
didn’t do anything.”

“What happened?” Alex growled.

Composing himself, he sniveled through his words. “I came
here to talk to Westwood about your case. She was in a hurry and asked me to
come up here.” Shelby’s voice cracked. “Someone hit me on the back of the head.
Next thing I know, you two showed up.”

Alex knew Juliana wouldn’t have let Shelby inside, not in
her state of mind. He inched his weapon closer to Shelby’s head. “Tell me the
truth, you lying piece of shit.” The gun barrel dented the furrows on Shelby’s
sweaty forehead.

Shelby edged away. As he did, Alex’s eyes shifted to
Shelby’s open pants. And his exposed genitals.

Alex jerked up as if electrocuted. Sweltering fury forced
him to stumble forward a half-step before he rested the gun barrel on Shelby’s
withered penis.

* * * * *

Nicholas sliced the duct tape from Juliana’s ankles and
guided her through an orchard of fruitless apricot trees. He followed on her
heels, the gun aimed at her back.

She hesitated at the expansive hedge of ten-foot-high
oleander bushes. The sight and smell of the flowers produced a pandemonium of
emotions and a lone thought. Never would she smell or see oleanders again
without remembering that night.

Nicholas gripped her arm with one hand while he spread
branches aside to reveal a hidden pathway. He hauled her behind him to the
other side. Shivering, she shook her hair to rid it of leaves and debris,
wishing she could shake him off as easily.

“Walk toward the house.”

A large shadowy shape loomed to her left. The darkness
closed in on her and the glow peeking through the draperies of one window was
her only light. She peered into the darkness trying to discern her whereabouts,
but it was just too dark. She guessed they had driven for half an hour,
bringing them into one of San Jose’s nearby rural areas.

Juliana picked her way toward the house over the uneven
gravel. Nicholas didn’t rush her. Gratitude for the small concession made only
a tiny dent in her mind. At his direction, she entered the back door, only to
come face-to-face with Jasmine.

Pure hatred turned the beautiful blonde babysitter into an ugly
shrew.

“Nicky, what’s going on?” She crossed her arms under her
voluptuous breasts and glowered at Juliana.

“Shut up, Jaz.” He turned domineering eyes on Jasmine,
forcing her to drop her gaze to her feet. “Give me the key.”

Jasmine pursed her lips as she dug a key out of her tiny
shorts.

Prodding Juliana with the gun, he led her down a dim
hallway. “Last chance to use the bathroom.”

“What a nice guy,” she blurted out.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” A small smiled tugged at his lips.
“What do they say about nice guys?” His once-charming smile widened.

Anger rippled through her, but she suppressed it in her
voice. “Can you untie my hands?”

“Certainly, I wouldn’t want you to soil your designer
jeans.” He jerked open his pocketknife and cut the tape.

When she was finished, he seized her arm and nudged her
toward the last doorway at the end of the hallway. Without loosening his grip,
he pocketed the gun and unlocked the door, then shoved her inside the weakly
lit room. The lock clicking into place lent a certain finality to the night.

Panic rioted within Juliana. She hated being locked up
almost as much as she hated the dark. A small lamp burned on the otherwise bare
dresser. The same lamp and dresser from her dreams. Terror clutched her insides
in a controlling fist and refused to let go—until she heard a childlike cry.

Juliana whirled toward the bunk beds dominating the right
half of the room. She forced a reassuring control to her voice. “Lisette?”

“Who are you?” Lisette asked in a trembling voice. She
scrambled to the far corner of the bed.

Juliana kept her distance so she wouldn’t frighten the girl.
“I’m Juliana, honey. I’m a friend of your Mom and Uncle Alex. I won’t hurt you.
I’m here to help you.” Despite the tangled blonde hair, the fear ravaging her
face, the girl was a beautiful sight.

“You know my Mommy and Uncle Alex?” Lisette asked, awe
chasing away her fear.

“Yes, I do. Can I sit with you?” Juliana’s neutral voice
masked her inner turmoil.

The small room closed in on her like a coffin. Whimsical
animated characters danced on the walls. Meant to portray a magical place in
all its fun and wonderment, no such enchantments abounded in her prison.

“Okay.” Lisette hugged her stuffed bunny to her chest.

Juliana eased down on the bottom bunk bed, giving Lisette space
in her own little corner. “I won’t hurt you, honey. Why don’t you sit beside
me?”

Lisette shook her head, her eyes riveted on Juliana’s face.

“I’ve known your Mommy and Uncle Alex for a long time. I
think they would want us to become friends.” She smiled at Lisette and held her
hand out to her. “Would you like that?”

The six-year-old frowned. “How come I never saw you before?”

Juliana dropped her arm and gripped the dragonfly-covered
comforter to still her trembling. “I’ve been away for a long time, in New York.
Have you heard of New York, where the Statue of Liberty is?”

Lisette shook her head again.

“I’ll show you a picture of it after we get home.” Her smile
widened falsely.

A lone tear trickled down Lisette’s pale cheek. “Is my Mommy
coming to get me?”

“You’ll see your Mommy soon. Uncle Alex is looking really
hard. He’ll find us soon. In fact, I’ve been helping him to find you, and look
how well I did.”

It wasn’t the best way of granting hope, considering she was
as trapped as Lisette. But hope floats, and she wouldn’t sink it yet.

Excitement sparked in Lisette’s eyes. “How did you find me?”

Juliana pondered the answer as she brushed back the hair
from her unraveling braid. “I dreamed about you alone, scared, and I found you
through my dreams.”

Lisette’s eyes widened.

“Honey, why don’t you try to sleep?” Juliana stood. She
wanted to search the room for a way out, a weapon, or anything that would help
her plight. She needed desperately to occupy her mind or she’d scare herself
out of her own skin.

The expression on Lisette’s face turned to an indecisive
fear. “Will you stay with me?”

“I won’t go anywhere. Want me to tuck you in?”

Lisette nodded, and Juliana helped her slide under the
covers. She planted a light kiss on Lisette’s forehead and sat next to her
until her breathing slowed and steadied.

She proceeded to explore every nook and cranny of the room.
To her dismay, she didn’t find anything to aid escape or even provide a clue as
to their location. The dresser held a couple changes of new, clean clothing for
Lisette. A window, dry-walled off from the inside, hid behind the deceitful
pink curtains she’d witnessed in her dream. Heavy staples fixed the curtains to
the wall, contributing to the game of deceit.

Nicholas Hastings had planned his coup with the efficiency
of a corporate raid.

Juliana climbed up to the narrow top bunk and stretched out.
What if Alex or the police didn’t rescue them before the ransom was paid? How
could she get them out of there? After Nicholas received the money, would he
let them go? Or would he kill them?

Thoughts flew at her. She employed all her mind control
tactics to clear her head and devise a plan for all contingencies.

* * * * *

Alex filled the doorway of Juliana’s king-sized bathroom.
Anger tore at his gut, ripping the adrenaline out of his system.

Uniformed officers cuffed Shelby’s uninjured hand to the
gurney before the paramedics wheeled him out. There was no sympathy evident
amongst the cops on site. For one cop to turn on another was akin to turning
against the entire police force.

The forensics team had arrived moments ago and the
once-lonely house now crawled with police personnel.

“Lieutenant, you’re up.” The call from downstairs sifted
through Alex’s thoughts.

He descended the stairs with heavy footsteps. The house
glowed like a Christmas tree. It reminded him of Juliana’s fear of the dark and
her craving for light, like a rose in bloom.

He entered the kitchen where Lieutenant Malcolm Crane from
IA waited. A straight shooter, Crane was the only one in IA Alex held in high
regard. Crane detested Shelby more than Alex did. He had led the year-long
improper behavior investigation against Shelby. Tonight’s debacle would kill
Shelby’s law enforcement career.

“Alex.” Crane shook his hand in a firm grip. “I understand you
have a personal relationship with Ms. Westwood?” Alex nodded. “I’ll make this
as painless as possible. However, you’ll have to give me the goods on what
occurred tonight to the best of your ability.”

Veiled significance laced his last few words. Crane would
believe whatever Alex told him—whether true or not. Alex had no doubt that
Crane would back him up and not play to his own agenda.

Muted sounds from the forensics team filtered through the
closed pocket door. Alex glanced around the kitchen, remembering the last time
he’d been there. Juliana stood before him, her unbound hair shining like golden
sunshine. Her radiance illuminated the kitchen, bringing life to the otherwise
sterile environment.

Even with all the lights burning, the room felt bereft without
her presence. Alex turned his face to the dining table and kept his gaze from
drifting, his mind from remembering.

He sat down, feeling pummeled from head to toe. His gaze
landed on the .38 revolver resting on the cherry-wood table. It wasn’t standard
police issue. He frowned, confused. “That’s not Shelby’s gun.”

“It’s registered to Ms. Westwood,” Crane replied, opening
his notepad to a fresh page. “What happened here?” He leveled his intent gaze
on Alex’s face.

A fresh surge of mixed emotions rolled through him. Palming
his antacids, Alex popped the last two in his mouth to dampen the fire in his
gut. With forced professionalism, he gave his statement.

Halfway through, Alex’s voice broke, his fists clenched on
top of his thighs.

“Do you need a minute?” Crane strode to the counter, leaned
over it for a couple of seconds before turning back around, his expression
commiserate.

Alex shook his head and buried the fury breaching his
control. Through clenched teeth he continued, “Shelby admitted to an attempted
rape of Ms. Westwood. In pursuit of the act, an unknown assailant approached
from behind and knocked him out. It was the last he remembered until O’Malley
and I appeared on the scene.” Alex crossed his arms over his chest, his muscles
stretched taut with his rage. “I called for backup. We searched the house and
grounds, but didn’t locate Ms. Westwood.”

“Okay. Your story ties with O’Malley’s.” Crane closed his
notepad, and patted Alex’s shoulder, his hand heavy. “You’re free to go. Get
some rest.”

“Rest?” Alex scowled, skimming his fingers along his scalp.

“What good are you to your niece and your girl if you can’t
function?” Crane leaned toward Alex, his expression inflexible, persistent.
“O’Malley advised me that the address leads on Hastings are false. Officers are
working ‘round the clock. Uniforms are interviewing Ms. Westwood’s neighbors,
and we have an APB out on her. What more can you accomplish tonight?”

Alex stood and beat his fists against his thighs. “I can’t
stop now!”

“O’Malley!” Crane yelled through the arched doorway. “Take
MacKenzie home. Tie him down if you have to.”

Alex opened his mouth to argue, but he realized Crane was
right. If he didn’t crash, he’d start making mistakes that could destroy people
he loved, family members who needed him and the woman he cherished.

James prodded Alex toward the foyer. As he approached the
front door, his gaze rested on the defective deadbolt. He knew the kidnapper
had abducted her. She wouldn’t have left the house unlocked, her purse and keys
on the bombe chest.