Erin's breaths came hard and fast as the flashback pressed down on her. She fought it, forcing it back by sheer will. Easy. Breathe. Focus.
"DiCarlo!" she shouted.
Two figures stepped out of the office. A surge of adrenaline sent her hand to her weapon. Every nerve in her body screamed as she drew it from her waistband. To her horror, her hands were shaking. Easy. Breathe. Focus. Her mind chanted the words like a mantra.
"I'm a police officer," she said.
The two men wore expensive suits. Italian loafers. They watched her with flat, emotionless eyes. Bodyguards—or hired killers—she thought, and choked back a crushing wave of fear.
"Mr. DiCarlo is expecting you," one of the men said. "Drop your gun, cop."
"Not until I see the little girl." Erin held her weapon steady on the man's chest. "Now."
The two men exchanged looks.
Erin pulled the hammer back. "A hollow-point bullet won't go through that body armor you're wearing, but it will put you down," she said with a calm she didn't feel. "I won't miss a head shot. You'll be dead before you hit the ground."
The man's cheek twitched. Raising his arm, he snapped his fingers. The office door squeaked open. Erin's heart jerked hard in her chest when she saw Stephanie being rolled out of the darkness by yet another man. The little girl's face was dirty and tear streaked, her hair mussed.
"Erin?" Stephanie said in a small voice.
"Sweetheart, I'm here," Erin replied. "Are you okay?"
"I'm scared. I want to go home."
"Everything's going to be okay."
"I want my dad."
Tears burned behind Erin's eyes, and she fought for control. "I'm a police officer like your dad, sweetheart," she reminded her. "I'll take care of you. I'll keep you safe, okay?"
The little girl started to cry.
Erin looked at the first man. "I'm taking her back to Logan Falls."
"You're not going anywhere. Drop the gun, cop."
She knew she didn't have any bargaining power, but she had to try. "Not until I know this child is safe. DiCarlo gave me his word."
"I ain't making no promises. Drop the gun."
"No." Her heart began to rage. "If I'm trading myself for this child, I want to know she's not going to be harmed. DiCarlo wants me, not her. I want her taken back to town."
"Lose the gun, lady cop." The first man took a threatening step closer.
She tightened her grip on the weapon, reminding herself she had a backup, wondering if they disarmed her if she could get to her ankle holster before they shot her dead. "Take her back to town or the deal's off."
The man stopped three feet away from her, an ugly looking pistol aimed at her chest. "Drop it, or I'll hurt both of you."
Those were the words Erin had feared the most. She was outnumbered. Both she and Stephanie were at their mercy. The only thing she could hope for now was a stroke of luck or the possibility that, like some of the Mafia old-timers, DiCarlo had a code against hurting children.
Hating the sense of helplessness crashing down around her, Erin tossed her gun onto the concrete and looked the man in the eye. "I don't want her hurt," she said in a low voice.
"Get your hands up and turn around."
Fear coiled inside her like a snake as she turned. She closed her eyes as rough hands moved over her with quick, impersonal efficiency. Her legs went weak with relief when they missed the pistol strapped to her ankle.
"She's clean."
Roughly, her hands were jerked behind her back. "Tying me up wasn't part of the deal—"
"Shut up."
She tried to jerk away, but two of the thugs stepped forward to subdue her. Knowing she couldn't win, she stopped fighting and let them bind her wrists with a thin strand of wire. Erin fought down panic. She could still get to her pistol, she assured herself. It would be difficult, but she could still use it. Easy. Breathe. Focus.
Oh, God, Nick, I'm sorry.
"Turn around, cop."
She turned, hoping they couldn't see the fear that permeated her every fiber. The thugs seemed more relaxed now that she'd been subdued. "Where's DiCarlo?" she asked.
As if on cue, the unmistakable drone of a helicopter rose above the howl of the wind. And Erin knew the final showdown was about to begin.
* * *
Chapter 14
« ^ »
Panic swirled through Nick in a violent maelstrom as he drove the Suburban through the storm. Rain and hailstones pounded the windshield. The wipers couldn't keep up with the deluge, but he didn't slow down. He drove blindly, propelled by a force stronger than panic, deeper than fear. After leaving the station, Nick had called Erin's apartment twice from his cellular, only to find the line busy. That was all it took for him to realize something was wrong. He'd walked into her apartment and spotted the dangling phone next to the answering machine. The blinking light was all he needed to know she'd left him a clue.
Dread burgeoned anew in his chest as he recalled the recorded conversation on her answering machine. God bless her for thinking like a cop and recording DiCarlo's call.
Now, pressing the speedometer to eighty, hydroplaning dangerously, Nick nearly missed the entrance to the grain elevator. He stomped on the brake. The vehicle fishtailed, coming to a stop just a few feet short of the drainage ditch.
He punched off the headlights, aware of his labored breathing even above the roar of the storm. Backing the truck beneath a stand of trees near the entrance, he shut down the engine and got out. Rain and wind pelted him, but Nick barely felt the wet or the cold. Fifty yards away, the massive structure of the grain elevator rose up out of the earth like ancient ruins.
He couldn't bear to think of the terror Stephanie must be feeling. He prayed DiCarlo wouldn't harm an innocent child. At the same time, he tried to put himself inside Erin's head. Had she traded herself for Stephanie? Or was she somehow planning to ambush DiCarlo and his men? Both scenarios sent a shiver of fear up his spine. So many things could go wrong. He should have realized she wouldn't stay at the motel. He'd been foolish in trusting her. Damn her for being so brave. Damn himself for loving her, anyway.
She knew DiCarlo was known to be particularly ruthless in the punishments he handed out to cops. If he hurt Erin…
Nick banked the thought, but not before he felt another blade of fear slice him. And he silently vowed that if DiCarlo hurt them, Nick would lay down his badge and take out the man with his bare hands.
Using the downpour as cover, he started toward the elevator at a dead run. The blue truck Erin had commandeered sat a few yards from the entrance, but she wasn't inside. An instant later, the sound of chopper blades reached him. Nick stopped and spun, spotting the Bell 206 helicopter a hundred yards away, about to land in an open area on the other side of the building.
DiCarlo.
Shock and a fresh wave of fear rippled through Nick. A personal visit from the crime boss was highly unusual. DiCarlo wouldn't waste any time with small talk.
Knowing he would be spotted out in the open, Nick sprinted toward the fence line that ran the length of the property. Brush scratched his face and ripped at his clothes, but he barely felt the pain. Mud sucked at his boots, but he didn't slow. He had to get close without being detected. Then he had to extract Erin and Stephanie before DiCarlo killed them both.
* * *
Erin watched Vic DiCarlo step out of the helicopter, angling his umbrella against the rain as he approached. Dread and terror streaked through her system like a fast-acting drug when she realized he'd probably come to handle her execution personally.
Breaking free of the two thugs, she ran toward Stephanie and dropped to her knees in front of the little girl, kissing her softly on her cheek. "It's okay, honey. These men want to talk to me for a little while, but they're going to take you home."
"Why did they tie you up?" Stephanie cried.
Erin closed her eyes and choked back a sob. She didn't know what to say. Oh, Lord, please keep this child
safe. "Because I'm a police officer. They don't want me to arrest them."
Her heart broke when the little girl's arms went around her. Oh, how she longed to hug her back!
"I'm scared, Erin."
"I know, sweetheart. I'm scared, too. We're going to have to be brave, though, okay?"
"'Kay."
"Everything will be all right. I promise. Just hold on to me and try to stay calm, okay, sweetheart?" Erin didn't know that for sure. She had no idea what DiCarlo had planned for them. But she couldn't bear to let this child go without some kind of reassurance.
"I love you, Erin."
She closed her eyes, felt the tears burst through the dam. Knowing she had only a moment, she pressed her cheek against Stephanie's, felt their tears join. "I love you, too, sweetheart."
"Take the child to the limo."
Erin's heart stopped in her chest at the sound of DiCarlo's voice. Terror pierced through her pain.
"No!" Stephanie cried. "I want to stay with Erin!"
It took Erin a moment to find her voice. "Go with them, honey. Please. They'll take you home." She forced her gaze to DiCarlo's, hoping for some kind of confirmation, but his expression was cold.
She barely felt the rough hands that jerked her to her feet. She watched as one of the thugs approached and began rolling Stephanie toward the entrance. The little girl turned in her chair, her eyes seeking Erin's. Agony filled her chest at the fear in Stephanie's eyes. Erin felt the child's departure like a stake through her heart.
"Ah, I'm deeply touched."
Breaking eye contact with Stephanie, Erin faced DiCarlo. He was standing so close she could smell his expensive cologne. He contemplated her with eyes that were as lifeless as a mannequin's. She'd seen dozens of pictures of him over the years, but nothing had prepared her for the power of his presence. He was shorter than she'd imagined, just an inch or two taller than she was, but he emanated power from every pore.
Without warning his hand shot out, his palm cracking against her cheekbone like a bullwhip. The sudden violence of the act stunned her. Her head snapped back. The force of the blow sent her down on one knee.
"I've waited six months for this moment," he said.
Shaking her head against the dizziness, she raised her eyes to his. "Give me your word you won't hurt that child."
"The way you hurt my son?"
She didn't even pretend not to know what he was talking about. The warehouse. The man she'd shot six months ago in Chicago. "Your son pointed a gun at a police officer."
"My son was eighteen years old. A child. You didn't give him a chance to bargain, Officer McNeal. You didn't give me a chance to beg for his life. Why should I do the same for you?"
"That little girl is innocent. She lost her mother three years ago. She's had enough pain in her life. Dammit, let her go."
"My son is dead because of you," he said coldly. "You took from me the only thing I truly cared about in this world. I'm here now to make sure you pay for that."
Dread squeezed her chest like a giant serpent, tightening until she couldn't draw a breath. For the first time, Erin realized fully his capacity for evil, the breadth and width of his need for revenge. "You can do what you want with me—"
"Of course I can. And I plan to. Very, very slowly."
"Give me your word you won't hurt her."
Something flashed in the depths of his reptilian gaze. Something cold and lifeless that sent a chill to the depths of her soul. "I want you to know what it feels like to lose something precious."
Panic gripped her, twisted her insides into knots. Erin struggled openly against her bonds. The wire cut into her wrists, but she didn't care about the pain. All she could think of was Stephanie, and the father who loved her.
Awkwardly, she struggled to her feet. "If you hurt her, I'll kill you."
Cold amusement sparked in his eyes. "You're in no position to threaten me, Officer McNeal."
"No, I'm not. But I'm here. I kept my part of the deal. My hands are tied. I'm yours, DiCarlo. I'm a cop, and I shot your only son. Do with me as you please, but let that little girl go. Let her go, and I'll play your twisted game with you."
"You don't have a choice."
"Let her go." Her voice was low and hoarse. "Please."
Shaking his head as if she'd offended him, he said, "Ah, but I'm not a child killer."
Erin wasn't sure why, but she believed him. She believed that if DiCarlo had planned to kill Stephanie, he would have done so in front of her just to make some sort of twisted point. Just to make her suffer before he killed her. The realization made her sag with relief.
He looked at the thug on her right. "Put the child in the car." DiCarlo's eyes shifted to the other man. "I'll meet you back at the chopper when I'm finished here."
The two men stepped back, then retreated, leaving her alone with DiCarlo. For the first time, Erin considered the very real possibility that she would die at the hands of this man. The possibility that she would never see Nick again. Never hear her name on his lips. Never see him smile. She would hurt him one final time, she realized. Just as he'd feared she would. The irony made her want to sob.
Another corner of her mind, the part that thought like a cop, wondered if he'd found the recording. If he was on his way. If she could somehow get her hands on the revolver in her ankle holster.
"Get down on the ground, Officer McNeal."
He's going to kill me, she thought with an odd sense of calm. Execution style. His trademark. The realization made her nauseous.
"Get on the ground, or I'll kill you where you stand."
She stared at him, unable to move, unable to believe it had come to this. "Don't do it," she said, starkly aware of the holster pressing against her right ankle.
"Contrary to popular belief, I don't like killing, Officer McNeal. Particularly women. But I'm a firm believer in an eye for an eye. Besides, I've got an image to maintain. So, if you don't mind, get down on the ground and let's get this nasty business over with."
* * *
Nick took out the last thug just as he was getting into the limousine. Using his billy club for silence, Nick put him down with a single blow. The thug fell into the mud like a sack of flour. After disarming him, Nick cuffed him to the undercarriage of the car and left him in the rain.
Praying he would find his daughter in the limo, he swung open the door. Stephanie cried out, the sound going through Nick like his lifeblood. Dropping to his knees in the mud, he gathered her into his arms and held her tight while tears burned his eyes and waves of relief shook him through and through.
"Sweetheart." He kissed her cheek, her forehead, the top of her head. "Hey, are you okay?" His voice broke as he closed his eyes and took in her sweet little-girl scent.
"Daddy." She sobbed in his arms. "Daddy, I'm scared."
"It's okay, honeybunch. I'm here. You're safe." He tightened his arms around her. "Did they hurt you?"
"No, but those men were mean. They said a bunch of bad words."
Clenching his jaw against the emotion gripping him, he eased her to arm's length. "Where's Erin?"
"She's in the big building with another man. I think he's bad, too. They tied her up, but Erin wasn't even scared."
"I've got to go help her. I'm going to take you into the cornfield to hide. I want you to stay there until I come for you, okay?"
Wiping her nose on her sleeve, Stephanie nodded. "I'm still scared, Daddy."
"Everything's going to be fine. I promise." Loath to leave her alone, but knowing he didn't have a choice, Nick worked off his jacket and slipped her arms into it. "Here's my jacket so you don't get wet."
"'Kay."
Scooping her into his arms, he started toward the cornfield a dozen yards away. Several rows in he stopped and set her gently on the ground. His heart broke when she looked up at him.
"Don't leave me, Daddy," she whispered. "I'm scared."
Nick dropped to his knees, pulled her into his arms and held her tightly. "I
love you, honeybunch. You stay put for me now, all right? No matter what happens, you stay right here. I'll come back for you."
"You promise?"
Because he couldn't speak, Nick nodded, praying he'd be able to keep his promise.
Slipping his service revolver from his holster, he broke through the rows of corn and started toward the wide entrance of the grain elevator at a dead run.
* * *
Erin stared down the barrel of DiCarlo's pistol. She couldn't believe it had come to this. She couldn't believe she was going to die.
Oh, God, Nick, I'm sorry I hurt you.
Oh, how she'd wanted to spend the rest of her life loving him. The thought ripped through her heart. He might not love her in return, but there was no doubt in her mind he cared for her. She'd seen it in his eyes. She'd felt it in his touch. Now, just as he'd feared, she was going to get herself killed.
"Get on the ground, Officer McNeal. I'll do us both a favor and make this quick for you. It wasn't the way I had it planned, but I like you—you've got guts. I have no desire to hear your screams." DiCarlo's voice rose over the drone of rain on the roof overhead. Cold. Surreal. More frightening than the gun in his hand.
He raised the pistol. "Do it now."
Her heart hammering out of control, Erin got down on her knees. Her mind rebelled against what would happen the instant she lay down. She tried not to think of everything she would leave behind. Nick. Stephanie. The dreams that would never be. She tried not to imagine the pain of a bullet. Whether her death would come quickly, or if DiCarlo would leave her to die slowly despite his words.
Gathering what little emotional strength she had left, Erin forced her gaze to his. "I'm not going to lie down for you. If you're going to kill me in cold blood, you're going to do it while I'm looking you in the eye, DiCarlo."
Her voice shook, but she didn't care. Her spirit cried out to defy him, and bound as she was, at his mercy, this was the only way she could.
"I have no compunction about shooting you this very moment. Most people don't like to see it coming."
Nausea rose into her throat, mingling with the fear in a cold, bitter mass. "I'm going to be sick," she said.