Chapter 16
Cole raced down the street toward Lexington. A jolt hit him square in the chest, a familiarity to it, yet foreign. Dina? He turned a hundred-and-eighty degree circle, taking in the surroundings for any clue for what made him sense her.
Nothing.
He picked up his pace, dodging around people and debris. Water splashed his wet jeans. By the time he reached Lexington Avenue, he gasped for air. He set his hands on his knees to regain his composure and did a quick scan of the street. Awnings dangled from their frames and trash floated in the stream running along the curbs. Heavy winds had hit the area but not the tornado.
Halfway down the block, a green awning twitched in the wind. His pulse quickened. He jogged against the cool breeze to the entrance and froze. The window was broken and yellow crime scene tape stretched across the storefront. Another piece surrounded a section of sidewalk. A muscle in his neck ticked while anxiety tormented him with an ambush of what-ifs. Each scenario racing through his mind left a bitter taste in his mouth, none of them had a positive ending.
He moved forward. The crunch of glass echoed under his shoes. Ducking under the tape, his heart beat double time as apprehension infused panic into his chest. His breaths came quick and fast as he shoved open the door to Café Coffees.
Chairs lay on their sides, tables upended.
A salesclerk with shoulder-length red hair and wide eyes stood in the center inspecting the destruction. Her panic was palpable, making him leery to move toward her too fast for worry he’d scare her.
“Ma’am,” he said softly and inched closer.
Black smudges streaked her cheeks and a far-removed mien settled across her features.
“Miss?”
She covered her mouth and puffed a moan. The noise sounded like she’d held her emotions in for some time.
Panic for Dina steamrolled over him and threatened to play havoc with his ability to handle this situation properly. He grinded his back teeth, shoved down the terror from lodging in his throat, and moved closer. “Are you okay?”
The zoned-out expression she wore changed as her gaze connected with his. They focused.
He swallowed. Progress.
“Yes.” Her voice quivered. Clearly, whatever had happened shook her to the core. “I am. I can’t believe―” She hid her face behind her hands. Her labored breaths resonated in the empty room.
He took a long moment, contemplating a way to push for answers without troubling her further, and asked as gently as he could, “Can you tell me what happened?”
She diverted her watery gaze to the upended table and ran a hand over her mascara-streaked cheek.
Oh, hell!
The situation was becoming more cumbersome by the moment. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I need help. I’m trying to locate a friend.”
She lifted her chin until her eyes met his and wiped her nose. “Who?”
Releasing a breath, he said, “A blonde in her early thirties, wearing a dark raincoat.”
The girl’s lips quivered, a flash of something he couldn’t describe crossed her petite features.
The lump he forced down sprang back, burning his throat and stinging his eyes. “Have you seen her?”
The lines etched in her face moments ago disappeared. She diverted her gaze. Her mouth turned downward as she nodded.
The girl’s forlorn expression weakened his knees, and slammed the emotional ball straight to his heart. He gripped a righted chair and steadied his nerves.
“And you are?” A deep voice boomed from behind him.
Two men, one bald, and the other sporting a buzz cut, both wearing suit jackets and holding memo pads, advanced from the rear of the dining area.
“I’m looking for a friend.”
“The name?” Worry lines etched on the balding man’s head and forehead.
“Who are you?”
The balding man pointed at buzz cut. “This is Agent Spencer and I’m Agent Calder.”
“Cole Dunbar.” They exchanged greetings and he stretched his hand out to the girl.
She gaped a moment before accepting the gesture, her cold hand speaking volumes for how frightened she was. “I’m Nicole Thomas.”
“I’m looking for Dina Wright,” Cole said, flicking his gaze between the agents.
Agent Calder wrote in his memo pad. “Why do you think she was here?”
The men had to ask questions, but the patronizing tone stuck in his craw. “She called from here.”
“Any proof?” This came from Agent Spencer, his eyebrows narrowing.
Worry swapped with anger. “Excuse me?”
“She used my phone,” the girl rushed to say.
“What time?” Calder asked.
He woke up at one, had talked to her an hour before. “Around twelve. When she didn’t return, we started looking.”
“Yes, it was 12:05,” Nicole said, shoving her phone back in her pocket.
The condensing agent scratched his ear and eyes darkened with disbelief. “We?”
Anger was chased away by Cole becoming fully pissed off. “Do you have a problem with me?”
“Look,” Calder raised his palm, “too many times, the perpetrator comes back to the scene of the crime. We have to check all angles.”
As much as Cole wanted to pound the agent for even thinking he’d harm Dina, he was grateful the men were thorough. “Two friends were with me. The tornado split us a part.” The questioning wasn’t getting him any closer to finding out information about Dina. He turned his focus back to the sales associate. “My friend used your phone?”
“Yes. Maybe five minutes before the fire alarm went off.”
“Did you see her leave?” Calder asked.
“Everyone ran out in a panic, but I saw her leave with a man.”
Calder rubbed his head. An unreadable expression crossed his face. “Which direction did they go?”
“To the left. He held her against the window.” She slid a hand over her nose. “Everything was a blur after someone fired a gun.”
Within a few minutes, the urgent feeling to find Dina as quick as possible rose to another level that he didn’t think he could reach. He was desperate.
“What did the guy look like?” Spencer asked. “Any physical descriptors you can give?”
“He wore a white cowboy hat.”
The agents glanced at each other before Spencer retrieved a picture from an inner jacket pocket. “Is this him?”
She studied the image for a long while before pointing at the eyes. “Yes. They’re firm, all-knowing like yours.” She pointed at Calder.
Spencer re-claimed the picture. “Did you see anyone else?”
“No. Is he the killer on TV…the Junkie?” she asked, hugging herself.
“You mean, the Caffeine Junkie?” Calder asked. “He’s a colleague.”
Cole replayed the sales associate’s comments. Someone with police training manhandled Dina? “Why would he force her against the window?”
“We don’t know,” Spencer grumbled, tugging on his overcoat’s collar and flicking off droplets of water.
“How’s that?” Cole’s hand fisted. Is the agent the Caffeine Junkie? “Where’s the agent?”
Spencer rubbed a finger across his forehead, his expression blank.
“We can’t discuss the case any further, but I can tell you everything is under control.” Calder slipped his notepad in his jacket pocket, silently saying the conversation was over.
“That’s not good enough,” Cole fumed. “Do you think he grabbed Dina?”
On a long sigh, Calder shook his head. “We’re not at liberty to say.” He paused as if figuring out what to say next. “There’s a chance he’s victim as well.”
“Ma’am, if you think of anything else, please call.” Spencer handed her a card then Cole.
He accepted the card and found a fake smile. If he wanted the agents to confide in him, he’d have to overlook their pomposity and play nice, but he had to tell them where he stood. “I will search for her.”
“Stand down,” Agent Spencer said.
Without giving them anymore consideration, Cole walked past them into the evening air, ready to do what he said, and hesitated on the sidewalk. Where in the hell did he start?
****
Minutes turned into hours before the roaring wind and commotion ebbed. Dina peeked out from under the bed. In the distance, sirens blared. Glass, leaves, twigs, and the tray of food covered the dirty, cement floor. Using her elbows, she wriggled from the hiding spot and crawled to her feet. The cool air seeped its way in, freezing her already cold skin. Her raincoat did little to keep her warm.
Outside, trees lay uprooted in a violet twist on the grass. A mailbox hung from a tree branch not far from the house. Electric lines dangled with their hosting poles either slanted or split in two.
Rustling sounded from the other side of the door. Dina backed to the wall and waited.
The door banged open. A stream of light brightened the darkening room. The Caffeine Junkie held a lantern at his side. Seeing him in the spooky glow, she recognized the mask…Jack the Ripper.
“You need your strength. Eat.” He dropped another tray on the table and placed the light beside it.
She scrutinized the uncovered food. Dark specks covered the scrambled eggs. Was it dirt, burnt, or something else?
Again, the tape was yanked from her lips. Pain sliced through her, leaving the taste of blood behind. He jerked the rope binding her wrists, pulling her behind him. “You get your strength and I’ll take you somewhere nice.” He slid his fingertip down her chin.
She sucked in a harsh breath and flinched, her earlier thought to bite off his tongue returned.
“Give me your wrist,” he barked.
When she raised her hands, he sliced the rope with a knife. “Eat,” he demanded as his cell phone rang. He stormed out of the room and, once again, slammed the door against the jamb.
The aroma of eggs drifted to her nose, making her stomach growl. Not having any food since this morning, she was starving, but uncertainty if the food was laced with something stopped her. Yet, if he wanted to drug her wouldn’t he stick her with a needle?
“What the fuck!”
Through the wall, she could hear the tightness in the Caffeine Junkie’s voice. She edged to the door and pressed her ear against it.
“I know there’s a fucking tree on the house, but I can’t go back there… Fuck the owners! Muther-fucker, find somewhere else… The fucking cop deserved what he got.”
A long pause, Dina assumed the call had ended.
“Camera?” His irritated tone switched to worry.
Dina covered her mouth, holding off the excitement that the police officer who stopped the Caffeine Junkie had a camera in his car. Someone would know what he looked like. Could identify his vehicle.
“God damn it. I told you I had no choice! Fuck…I’ll move them.”
Them?
She eased away from the door, backed to the wall near the window, and peeked out. A tree lay on the far end of the house, the roof smashed in under its weight.
The door flung open.
The Caffeine Junkie held up a needle.
No way. With unknown courage, she propelled off the wall and swung her fist. He blocked the blow with one hand while the other jabbed a needle into her shoulder. A sea of darkness overtook her.