Dr. Henry Vance pulled into a parking space in the underground garage downtown and turned off his car’s engine. He sighed as he unstrapped himself from his seat belt. He had an urgent meeting with a wealthy patient that he did not wish to take. These days, he didn’t even want to venture out of his home. Three people were dead from his inner circle, and he was, to say the least, a little stressed about it.
The passenger door of the car opened, and a big man got out. He walked over to Henry, who was still seated in the car. Next to them, an overhead light flickered off, struggling against its malfunction.
“Ready, Dr. Vance?” asked the big man.
“Yeah, Rudy,” replied Henry. He searched for the button on the fancy remote that locked the high-tech car and set the alarm as he got out. “Cheap-ass office building, can’t afford to fix a broken light.”
Henry stood next to his bodyguard, aware of being in his shadow. Henry was just under six feet tall, and weighed a thin one-sixty. Rudy was taller and larger, weighing in at about two-forty. Rudy stood in a defensive posture, checking out the area around them. The garage was quiet and smelled of gasoline and exhaust. The jingling of Henry’s keys was like discordant music.
Henry heard the car’s locks click. “Jesus,” he said. “Damned Japanese cars.”
They heard footsteps. Rudy turned and saw a figure come out of the elevator area and start toward them. Rudy moved out a few steps in front of Henry and took on a crouching stance.
The figure walked only a few steps then got into a car in a handicapped space near the elevator door and drove off.
Rudy eased in his stance, straightening up. “Let’s go, sir,” he said.
Rudy and Henry quickly made their way across the garage. The sound of their footfalls bounced off the hard walls, making a hollow, popping sound.
“Shit,” said Henry, stopping. “I left my medical bag in the backseat. Go on up without me, Rudy. I gotta go back to my damned car.”
“I can’t do it, sir,” said Rudy.
“Then you go lock the car and I’ll go up.”
“Can’t do that either,” said Rudy. “I don’t get paid to leave you alone. Let’s go together, sir,” said Rudy.
“I guess I’m safe whether I like it or not, huh?” said Henry, laughing.
“That’s the plan, sir,” said Rudy. Rudy didn’t care why the doctor needed protection. In Detroit, it could have been a million reasons. All he knew was that he had been a third-rate football player with a bad knee and this kind of work paid well.
They walked back to the car. Henry got to the car and took out his keys. The flickering of the broken light made Henry’s job all the more difficult as he fumbled with the remote. Henry found the button and pressed it. Nothing.
“Dammit,” said Henry.
“Let me, sir,” said Rudy.
Rudy reached for the key chain as a man rose from behind the car next to them. The blinking of the light made the killer seem as though he were moving in slow motion. He came forward, his hand swinging outward toward Rudy’s face. Rudy saw a dark object cover his vision, then sharp pain as something crashed into the bridge of his nose. Rudy yelled and dropped the key chain. A second later, the killer was slamming Rudy’s head into the concrete pillar next to it. There was a dull cracking sound then Rudy slumped and fell to the ground.
Henry had already turned to run, but the killer was on him. Henry could see him more clearly now. It was a man, dressed in dark clothes. He was wearing something over his face with eyeholes in it. The killer raised a hand and brought it down toward Henry’s face.
Henry stumbled backward to avoid the blow. He turned and moved away from his attacker, knowing that if he was caught, something terrible would happen. This was what he’d been afraid of, what Rudy was for. He was foolish to have left his home, he thought.
The killer pivoted on one foot under the flickering light. He looked strangely graceful as he turned and inched closer to Henry, who was now terrified beyond reason. He opened his mouth to yell, but only a dry choking sound came out.
The killer slowed, taking measured steps, not wanting his prey to escape another blow. Henry backed toward the elevator, looking at the exit door. He was wondering whether he could make a mad dash for the door, but he knew he was not fast, and some lunatic was in front of him and surely quicker than he was. Still, his body was pumping adrenaline, and he felt that he could do it.
Henry was about to run, when a car pulled into the garage. The headlights flashed dully off the stone pillars, and the sound of its engine echoed off the stone walls.
“Hel—!” was all Henry got out before the killer clamped a hand over his mouth. A quick blow to the stomach followed, emptying Henry’s lungs of air. Henry crumpled like paper. The killer dragged Henry between two vehicles as a Mercedes pulled up on the driveway. The Mercedes rolled right past Rudy’s body, which was wedged between Henry’s car and the one next to it.
The killer struggled to keep Henry quiet as the driver of the Mercedes found a space. It was across the aisle and to the left, close enough that the occupants might hear them.
A well-dressed couple got out of the Mercedes and walked toward the elevator door. Henry made a muffled scream, which was cut off by another blow to the stomach. The man and woman stopped and looked around. The man took a step toward the killer and his captive, then stopped. The woman pulled on the man’s elbow and the couple walked to the elevator and got in.
As soon as they were gone, the killer pulled Henry up and knocked him out cold.
The killer was breathing hard. This man was the hardest yet to get. They were on to him now, but he had expected this after Olittah Reese was taken. His mission was almost done, and he would not be deterred. He grabbed Henry’s keys, popped the trunk on the car then stuffed him inside.