CHAPTER FOURTEEN

 

 

 

 

We sped down the highway under the dome of swirling red and blue lights. The siren blared before us, leaving a trail of sidelined cars in our wake. The trucking firm where Luke stashed Paige’s cell phone was a good fifteen minutes down the highway, just outside city limits, but we were making much faster time.

“I only know of one main entrance to Miller’s trucking,” Reilly said loudly, “On the south side, off the highway. When we take the exit, I’ll turn off the siren and go dark. We need to get the jump on him.”

“Shouldn’t we contact your officers,” I asked from the backseat, practically shouting over the siren and the roaring engine, “so we can surround the place in case he makes a run for it?”

“Not yet,” he answered. “Dispatch will have to inform the Chief and he’ll send the police after me, not Luke. I can’t take that chance.”

After an exhilarating race down the highway, Reilly exited and flipped a switch on his dash to cut the siren and then another to shut off the lights. Marco was in the passenger seat and I was in the back, separated by a thick Plexiglass window opened in the center so I could hear what they were saying.

“What do you want us to do?” Marco asked as Reilly made the turn toward Miller’s.

“I need you both to keep your eyes peeled,” he answered, now virtually whispering as the sergeant’s police car crept along the service road, shrouded in darkness. “The last thing we want is a pursuit, so once we find the entrance, Marco, I want you to close it up and lock us in. If Luke’s still here, we don’t want him fleeing.”

The trucking firm was enclosed by a tall, reinforced metal fence which ran around the wide perimeter of the building surrounding the cement lot. The entrance was locked up tight. Marco double checked that the fence couldn’t be opened manually and jogged back to Reilly’s car. “I don’t think he got in this way.”

“We’ll check around back,” Reilly said.

Marco and I scanned the area through the fence, but we weren’t able to see much. There were tall security lamps scattered evenly throughout the lot, but most of the light was obscured by the oversized trucks parked in even rows surrounding the main building.

“He could be anywhere,” I said.

“Look there.” Marco pointed toward an open gate on the opposite side of the lot.

We drove quietly through the gate. Marco quickly jumped out of the car and slid the metal security fence closed behind us, latching it so that it could only be opened by hand. We then proceeded down a long stretch of gravel. As we came closer to the main building, I started moving between each of the rear windows, my eyes intently focused, searching under the trucks for any signs of Luke, but he was nowhere to be found.

Reilly passed Miller’s front entrance, which was lit up under the bright lights of the company’s fluorescent sign, and parked around the corner, where his car could be better concealed. In the large lot around us were trucks of all shapes and sizes, most of them semis, with different types of trailers for hauling building materials, transporting cars and livestock, and heavy industrial equipment.

“Listen to me carefully,” Reilly said. “I don’t want either of you to leave this vehicle.” He looked at me in the rearview mirror. “That goes double for you, got it?” He waited until I nodded, then looked at Marco. “If you see something, flip these two switches. The lights and siren should scare away any trouble and I’ll come running.”

“What happens if you need help?” Marco asked.

“Help will be on the way.” Reilly reached for the patrol radio, but before he could, we heard a tapping on the driver’s side window.

Out of the darkness, Detective Richard Arno’s face appeared through the glass. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” he stated as Reilly rolled the window down. “But I’m glad you’re here, Sergeant. I could use your assistance.”

“Why are you here?” Reilly asked cautiously.

“Same as you,” he answered quietly. “I’ve had a tail on Luke all night. He’s in the maintenance shed around back. Come with me.”

Arno backed up, expecting Reilly to open the door and follow him, but I interrupted. “Don’t go, Sean. Call dispatch and let them know where we are. Wait for backup.”

“What are you waiting for?” Arno hurried him along. “We don’t have much time.”

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Marco said. “I think you should listen to Abby.”

Arno approached the car again and leaned closer to look at us. “You two stay here. Luke might be armed. Come on, Sarge.”

I locked my eyes onto Reilly’s through the mirror and shook my head. My inner antenna was buzzing so strongly my hands were shaking. Reilly inhaled a deep breath and reached for the radio.

“Fine,” Arno snarled. “Stay here like the coward you are. I’ll go around back and do your job. I was always better at it anyway.” He stepped away into the darkness and disappeared around the corner.

I could tell Reilly was struggling to keep his composure, but before I could think of the words to keep him from leaving, we heard two gunshots in the distance behind the building. Reilly sprang into action. He readied his holster and flipped the switch on his radio, “Call dispatch and give them our location. Give the code eleven ninety-nine.” He was out of the car and around the corner before I could even repeat the code.

Marco did as Reilly instructed. He also thought to flip the switch that turned on the flashing emergency lights, further beckoning the coming Calvary. Then he turned to face me in the backseat. “Why is Arno here?”

“I don’t know, Marco, because If he was tailing Luke all night, then who was following us from Darlene’s house?”

“We need to find out,” Marco said as he swiped open his home screen and began scrolling through his contacts. “Here we go, Vincent Wong.” He tapped his number and put the phone on speaker. Chills raced up my arms as we waited, listening for any sounds of activity in between rings. The air around us was still and the far away buzzing of electric security lamps was all I could hear.

“Don’t worry,” Vince answered immediately, “I won’t even begin to try your last name. What can I do for you, Marco?”

“Were you following us from Darlene’s house?” he asked.

“Was I following you? Oh, come on. I admire you and all, but –”

“Yes or no, Vince.”

“Nope,” he answered cheerfully. “Still here at the Rafferty house.”

Marco turned to look at me in the backseat with Vince still on the line. “Arno was following us from Darlene’s house. Now he’s here waiting for us. Could that be a coincidence?”

Before Marco could hang up I had an idea. “Ask him for Paige’s cell number.”

After a few moments of hearing Vince fiddle with his phone, he finally read aloud the digits to Paige’s cell, which I then dialed into mine. “Thanks, Vince,” I said.

Marco ended the call abruptly and exited the car. He opened my door and offered his hand. “Come on. Reilly’s in danger.”

We hurried in Reilly’s footsteps under the cover of the building’s roof. The red and blue lights spun silently, coating the surrounding darkness in a blur of purple shadows. Marco peered quickly around the corner and gave me the signal to stay put. After several seconds, Marco’s hand went back up, signaling for me to follow. Around the corner was much more of the same, large trucks loaded with heavy equipment, but – surprise – no maintenance shed. We continued along in partial concealment and then stopped by the building’s back door only to find it locked.

“Where are they?” I asked quietly.

Marco looked around, then crouched low, whispering over his shoulder “Why did you ask for Paige’s number?”

I lowered myself behind an empty canister by the back door. “To call her phone and locate Luke.”

“What if Luke’s not here?” he asked.

“Who else would have turned on her phone?”

“Think about it, Abby. Doesn’t this feel like a trap? Arno was at Darlene’s house waiting to get that video evidence, but we took it. He followed us to Reilly’s and no more than fifteen minutes later the phone turned on. That’s exactly how long it would have taken for him to drive here. He lured us here to get those files.”

“Then he would have had Paige’s phone the whole time,” I realized.

Marco nodded. “He’s been tracking our every move. Somehow he’s wrapped up in this murder and we’ve been on his trail ever since day one. That’s why he’s been threatening us.”

And just like that the real scene played perfectly in front of my eyes. “Dylan didn’t witness Luke at Paige’s house.” Thinking back to the fear in Dylan’s voice when I mentioned Arno, and the terror I saw in his eyes when he saw the detective standing behind me at the jail, it all started to become clear, except for one thing. “Why would Dutch murder Paige Rafferty?”

“It doesn’t matter right now,” Marco said. “What matters are those files. Whatever Dylan caught on camera could blow this whole case wide open. When he realizes that Reilly doesn’t have the files, he’s going to come searching for us.”

“What are we going to do? We can’t leave Reilly.”

“Call Paige’s cell.”

“Now?”

“Yes,” he said and signaled for me to get lower.

I crouched behind him and unlocked my phone, the bright screen lighting my face in the dark. I pressed send and we waited, listening quietly. After what felt likes hours, I began to speak but Marco held up his finger.

“Do you hear that?” he asked.

There was a sound coming from across the lot, but it wasn’t a ringtone. It sounded like the two men were arguing, or fighting. Then we heard a gunshot. I almost stumbled backwards, but Marco lifted me to my feet and we headed toward the sound.

I followed closely behind Marco as he crept forward through the rows of empty trucks, using them as cover. I could hear the two men fighting clearly then, and their shouting echoed throughout the lot. As we drew nearer, Marco stopped behind one of the semi beds. It was a flatbed trailer loaded with massive railroad car axles. I could smell the rust and metal as Marco leaned around the truck and I heard him say something under his breath.

“What is it?” I whispered.

Marco held me back. “Don’t look.”

But by that time it was too late. I shot forward into the light and saw Reilly just twenty feet in front of me, sprawled out on his back, the glow of the security lamp acting as a spotlight on his lifeless body. I sank back behind the truck, my knees caving, but as I did I heard the scraping of metal against metal and glanced around just as the trailer in front of us released its payload, the heavy, rusted objects rolling rapidly toward us.

I felt Marco’s strong grip on my biceps as he desperately tried to pull me out of the way. But as he did, one of the railroad car axles toppled onto the ground next to me, colliding with another, flipping it end over end, and landed right on Marco’s back. Before I could act, several more axles crashed onto the ground between us, one tearing into my arm as another crippled my leg, forcing me to the ground.

I looked behind me to see Marco face down, the weight of the axles crushing his back. He was struggling to breathe. I didn’t have much time. I pulled my body forward, trying not to look at the gash on my arm, my palms shredding on the cold cement. The axle that held me down was resting on another, leaving a slight gap to pull my leg through. But as I did I could feel the skin on my leg peeling back, and a warm sensation running down my calf.

But the sensations at that point were nothing more than a cold tingling. All I could feel was the blood pulsing through my veins and all I could hear was Marco gasping for air as I tried desperately to reach him.

I finally managed to free my leg and hobble next to my husband. He was conscious but his chest was restricted under the weight. There were two axles on his back, one on top of the other. I gathered all my strength and rolled the first axle away. It slammed to the ground next to us and I heard him inhale painfully.

“I’m here, Marco.” I said, breathing hard. “Can you move at all?”

He pulled his arms underneath him as far as he could, almost completing a push-up position, but couldn’t get them far enough under his body. “You have to help me,” he said between gasping breaths. Marco pushed with what little strength remained, and I pulled, then feeling a searing pain rip through my arm.

“It’s too heavy,” I cried, my voice cracking from the strain. “I can’t lift it.”

“Remember,” he said. His words were coming in quick short bursts. “Work through the pain.”

I could tell he was losing his strength quickly and his breathing was slowing down. I closed my eyes, gritted my teeth, and bore down, gripping my hands so tightly around the axle that I lost feeling in them. The whole time Marco’s words repeated inside my head. Pain is all in the mind. Feel the burn.

“You can do this, Abby,” he said finally.

I felt the burn through my shoulders as I pulled. I felt every muscle fiber in my legs tighten as I pushed. The axle moved slightly, and Marco lifted his chin and drew in one large breath. I shifted my feet, inching the axle away from his shoulder blades, allowing him to pull his hands beneath his body and push. Together we lifted the axle enough for Marco to scoot forward, allowing the color to return to his cheeks.

I fell backward onto the pavement, my body as loose as a ragdoll’s, but I didn’t care. I could hear Marco breathing and coughing. He was alive.

I heard the crunching of gravel near my face and opened my eyes to see Richard Arno staring down at me. His face was contorted into a crooked smile. “You’re a real hero, Abby Knight Salvare.”