Going Once (Forces of Nature) (8 page)

Cameron’s heart skipped a beat. “You’re serious?”

“Yes, why?”

“Don’t let on about anything. Just find a log sheet or something from your office and carry it back like you were checking on what just came in. I’ve got to get hold of Tate and Wade.”

“Wade is outside where we’re unloading. I was just talking to him.”

“Thanks,” Cameron said. “I’ve got to go. If we’re lucky, this could be it.”

Seven

C
ameron checked on Nola’s whereabouts one last time, then put in a call to Tate as he headed outside.

Tate answered on the first ring. “I’m already on my way.”

“I was just talking to Laura, and she said Allen was one of the volunteers who came in early and is staying at the trailer park. He told her he’d been in Natchez and heard them talking about setting up farther downriver, so he thought he’d come lend a hand.”

“Son of a bitch,” Tate muttered. “Keep an eye on him. We don’t want him to get away.”

“Will do,” Cameron said as Wade appeared around the corner of the building. Cameron waved him over.

“What’s going on?” Wade asked.

“We may have a break in the case. Judd Allen, real name Grady Bell, has two outstanding warrants for armed robbery and assault in Washington State. Beaudry is on his way to arrest him now, and Laura just told me the man came in as one of the early volunteers, that he was in Natchez and heard they were going to be setting up here, so he came ahead to help. He’s staying at the trailer park, too.”

“He was on the list the trailer park manager gave me, but I didn’t get any hits on the name Judd Allen. Now I know why. So what’s our plan?”

“You go around back and make sure he doesn’t leave that way. I’ll watch him from in here, and when Tate and Beaudry’s people get here, we’ll take him into custody.”

Wade nodded, and headed around to the back of the gym.

When Cameron went back inside he caught sight of Nola going into the women’s restroom, so he headed to the kitchen.

When he walked in the room was empty, and for a moment, he thought Bell had gotten away. Then Laura and Bill walked in from outside, laughing at something Brad and John were saying as they came in behind. Last was Judd Allen, who went to the sink to wash his hands. Leon and Patty were nowhere in sight.

* * *

When Hershel saw the Fed standing in the doorway, the hair rose on the back of his neck. He wasn’t in any criminal database, and he had never left any DNA behind—not that it mattered, anyway. That was the perk of committing murders in the middle of a disaster site. Everything was contaminated, including his crime scenes. But seeing the Fed immediately reminded him of Nola Landry. He was convinced now that she had seen him committing murder, and even though no one believed her and she would never be able to identify him, it was still a mistake. He couldn’t have mistakes. The last time he’d made a mistake, Louise had died. He needed to get rid of her now and, as an added bonus, destroy Benton, as well.

His pistol was in the truck, hidden in a secret compartment, but he couldn’t use it here, anyway. They would be on him in seconds once they heard it go off. He thought of the switchblade under the seat. A silent weapon, that was what he needed—that and a few seconds alone with her. One slash across her throat and she would be history.

“Hey, Laura, what time do you need me to come in tomorrow?” he asked.

She glanced at her clipboard.

“Why don’t you sleep in? We have enough help already on the schedule for the breakfast shift, so how about we see you at noon, okay?”

He nodded. “Sounds good to me. I could use a little extra sleep.”

He picked up his jacket, then strolled out the back door as if he didn’t have a care in the world. The moment he reached the parking lot, he hurried for his truck, which he made a habit of parking under the pole with the broken light, got in and drove away. But instead of going back to the trailer park, he made a quick turn at the end of the block, came in through a back alley and parked in the shadows.

He grabbed the switchblade, then took off his jacket and shirt, and traded them for a black hooded sweatshirt. He changed his work boots for black tennis shoes, and dug through another box for a quick facial disguise. He chose the same thick mustache he’d used with the stolen uniforms, and got the same wig. There wouldn’t be much of it visible under the hood, but just in case someone spotted him, he would fit what little description Nola Landry might have given.

He still didn’t know how he was going to get her away from the cops, but he was willing to wait for the opportunity. He already had a hiding place in mind and knew he could get there without being seen. Confident that he was prepared, he palmed the knife and headed for the gym, taking care to stay away from the streetlights and inside the shadows.

He walked in with a group of men, and then separated from the crowd and moved along the side wall with his head down. He didn’t look any different from most of the others, with their hand-me-down clothes and weary steps, and he was almost at the janitor’s closet when he heard a commotion in the back, toward the kitchen.

People were standing up near their cots to see what was happening, while others began running to get their children. He saw Judd Allen—the police on his heels—make a run for the front door, shoving people out of his way as he raced through the gym.

When people began screaming and running, Hershel didn’t know whether to follow through with his plan, or wait for a better time. But when Nola Landry came out of the ladies’ restroom, he had his answer. His target had just been delivered straight into his arms.

* * *

Nola was in the bathroom when she heard the uproar, and when people began screaming, she ran out to see what was going on. She could see the police, and someone running, and she got a glimpse of Tate before the crowd moved in front of her. She was debating whether to stay where she was or try to get back to her cot, when a masculine arm suddenly snaked around her neck and yanked her backward. She saw the knife from the corner of her eye, and without thinking, she rammed an elbow in her attacker’s belly, then stomped hard on the top of his foot.

When her assailant grunted in pain, she leaped forward, trying to twist out of his grasp. Just as she broke free, the back of her arm began to burn. She ran out of the gym screaming Tate’s name, and didn’t look back.

* * *

Beaudry and his deputies had Allen in handcuffs and were taking him to the patrol car when Nola came running out of the gym, screaming.

Tate spun toward the sound, saw her running and covered the distance between them in seconds. As soon as he caught her up in his arms, he saw the blood.

She was shaking, both from the shock and the pain.

“Behind me. He was behind me,” she gasped.

Tate’s heart sank. She’d just given them confirmation that Bell wasn’t their killer.

Cameron was already running back into the gym, trying to get past the people who were spilling out in panic.

Tate grabbed his cell phone.

“Wade! He just attacked Nola. He’s in the gym.” Then he thrust her into a deputy’s arms. “Call an ambulance. Put her in a squad car ASAP, and don’t leave her alone.”

“Yes, sir,” the deputy said.

Nola couldn’t stop shaking, and watching Tate running into the gym with his gun drawn only added to her panic.

Another deputy appeared with some towels and wrapped them around her arm before they put her into the squad car.

* * *

By the time Tate got into the gym, Wade and Cameron were coming to meet him.

“There’s no one here!” Wade shouted. “He ran out with the crowd.”

They did a one-eighty and flew out the door, but there was nothing to see, no one to chase, just a huge crowd of anxious parents and crying children.

Furious, Tate turned and headed around the building to the patrol car. Nola was in the backseat, in obvious pain.

“Where’s the ambulance?” he asked.

“Already on a run outside of town, and something’s wrong at the hospital. They lost power and are having trouble getting the backup generator going,” the deputy said.

Tate opened the door of the squad car, picked Nola up in his arms and headed for the government SUV. Wade was already behind the wheel, and Cameron was holding the door open for them to get in.

Cameron looked back. Laura was trying to quell the panicked crowd. He felt sick. It was their presence that had caused this. They couldn’t stay here again.

Tate could tell Nola was in shock and made a decision he hoped he wouldn’t regret.

“Power is out at the hospital and the backup generator isn’t working. Drive to the police station,” he said.

“But what about her arm?” Wade asked.

“Just drive,” Tate said, and pulled out his phone. He punched in a number and waited for it to ring.

* * *

Don Benton had fallen asleep in his recliner watching the late-night news, and when his phone began to ring, he jumped. It had been a lot of years since he’d gotten a call in the middle of the night, but his reaction was instinctive as he grabbed it on the second ring.

“Hello?”

“Dad, it’s me. Don’t hang up. The killer attacked Nola at the gym. Her arm is cut badly. It needs stitches, and the power is out at the hospital. We’re on our way to the police station. Bring your bag. Please. It’s not for me. It’s for her.”

Don didn’t hesitate. “I’m on my way.”

Cameron glanced over his shoulder at Tate’s face.

“Is he coming?”

Tate nodded. The towel the deputy had wrapped around Nola’s arm was soaked with blood.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” she mumbled.

“Close your eyes and take a deep breath, then exhale slowly,” Tate said. “You can do this, honey. We’re almost there.”

Seconds later Wade skidded to a stop in the parking lot and jumped out, his gun drawn. There was no way of knowing if the killer was hiding somewhere with a gun, waiting to finish her off.

Cameron came out armed, as well, opened the door for Tate and then covered them as he carried her inside the station.

Allen aka Bell was being booked as they came in the front door. The chief took one look at the woman in Tate’s arms, then the blood and the weapons, and pointed at a deputy.

“Put the prisoner in holding,” he commanded, and had his hand on his weapon as he headed toward the door. “What happened?”

“The killer just attacked her inside the gym. He got away in the chaos. The power is out at the hospital, and Dad’s on the way here to stitch her up. We’ll be in our field office. When he gets here, bring him up.”

“Lord, Lord,” Beaudry mumbled, and headed down the hall to make sure they got Allen in a cell before anything else came loose.

Nola barely knew where she was and couldn’t stop shaking, but she heard Tate’s voice and knew she was safe.

“Move all that stuff off the table,” Tate said as they entered their office.

Wade and Cameron began stacking files and moving equipment. When the table was clear, Tate laid her on it. She moaned.

“Nola, can you hear me?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see him?” he asked.

“No. He was behind me. All I saw was an arm and then the knife. It happened so fast.”

Tate was furious. No matter what they did, the bastard stayed one step ahead of them. He was trying to stop the flow of blood from her arm when his father arrived, issuing orders without bothering to say hello.

“There are clean towels in this bag, and a large bottle of antiseptic wash. Put a couple of towels under her arm. Tate, you know what to do. Clean the area so I can see what we’re up against. If he cut deep into the muscle, she may need surgery.”

Nola groaned.

That was when Don realized she was conscious and patted her shoulder.

“I apologize, Nola. My usual patients aren’t able to hear me. I’m afraid I’ve lost my bedside manner.”

She heard him, but she was shaking so hard she couldn’t answer.

“She’s going into shock,” Don snapped as they rolled her over onto her stomach to get easier access to the wound. “Hurry.”

Tate was working as fast as he could, swabbing the arm with the antiseptic wash to clean the area around the wound.

“There’s a bleeder here somewhere,” he muttered. “Take a look.”

Don was already gloved up and had his instruments at the ready when he moved into place. He began injecting the area with Novocaine to numb it against what he was about to do. His patients weren’t the kind who felt pain, and it was all he could get his hands on at this time of night. He hoped he had enough to do the job.

Nola moaned and then passed out.

“Good. Maybe I can finish before she comes to,” Don said. “Somebody bring me some more light.”

Cameron grabbed a large flashlight from their gear and aimed it down into the wound.

“A little to the right and up,” Don said.

Cameron adjusted the angle.

“There. I see it,” Don said, and moments later clamped the large vein that had been slashed and tied it off.

The ensuing minutes were almost silent, except for Don’s occasional request or demand. The other men stood motionless around the table, watching him work.

Beaudry came in, but he stood back and kept silent, too.

“She’s waking up,” Tate said briefly.

“I’m almost finished,” Don said.

Nola moaned. Tate grabbed her other hand and squeezed it lightly to let her know he was there.

“You’re okay. Lie still.”

She blinked and then opened her eyes.

“Where am I?”

“At the police station,” he said. “Dad is sewing up your arm.”

She moaned. “It hurts.”

Don frowned. “I gave her all the Novocaine I had—sorry. Just two more stitches and we’re through.”

Nola moaned as the needle went into her flesh.

Tate frowned. “Dad. Stop!”

“No...just finish it,” Nola begged.

Don didn’t hesitate. Moments later he clipped the surgical thread, then wiped the surface again with antiseptic swabs.

“It’s the best I can do under less than sterile conditions,” he said, and then began bandaging up the wound.

“I can do a decent field dressing,” Tate said. “Do you have something you can give her for pain?”

“I don’t have a regular doctor bag, you know. I just gathered up what I could find. Nola, are you allergic to anything?” Don asked.

She groaned again as another wave of pain wracked her body. “No, not allergic.”

He peeled off the surgical gloves, then dug around in his bag until he found something that would work, filled a syringe and gave her a shot.