Razor's Edge Page 13

  Worry over Jake had rid her of her appetite, but she knew better than to skip too many meals. If her hands shook, she wouldn’t be able to shoot straight, and if Jake was in trouble as deep as she feared, shooting straight might be the only way to get him out.

  Tanner made a point of flirting with the waitress at lunch. They hadn’t left town, and he was determined to find Razor some scrap of hope to carry with her. When she’d learned that it hadn’t been Jake that sent the e-mail, she’d wilted before his eyes, and he wasn’t going to let that happen again. At least not on his watch.

  A few more days with her was all he had before she’d be assigned a new mission and he’d be put on whatever detail Bella deemed best. Before that happened, he needed to find who had stolen soldiers’ lives and stop them cold.

  The woman waiting on their table was nearing thirty, with fake orange hair and bright blue nails. A tattoo on her left shoulder had once borne the name Bobby, but that had been crossed out in barbed wire and skewered with a bloody dagger. Whoever Bobby was, she was no longer quite so fond of him.

  She set their food down on the table and cocked her hip toward Tanner, smiling. “Can I getcha anything else?”

  Her offer for more than ketchup was crystal clear.

  Tanner smiled back. “Sure can, sweet thing. This guy owes me money. I heard he came through here. Take a look at a photo for me?”

  “Anything for you, darlin’.”

  Razor handed him the photo. The waitress took it, caressing his hand as she did. “Nope. Sorry. The only strangers we get through here are truckers and crazies.”

  “Crazies?”

  “Yeah, you know the type. Drugged out, some of them raving about alien abduction and probing. Lots of Roswell spillovers, I guess.”

  Razor punched some buttons on her phone and held it up to the woman. “Ever see him?”

  The woman squinted as she peered at the photo. “Oh, yeah. A couple of days ago. He was some kind of gardener or something. Asked me if I knew where to find a white rose.”

  Razor stilled and met Tanner’s gaze. “What did you tell him?”

  “I told him what I tell them all: There’s a walk-in clinic down the street and they should really go get checked out. Poor souls. It’s the drugs, you know. We have a huge drug problem here.”

  “Thanks for your help, sweet thing,” said Tanner, but his heart wasn’t into the flirting. He was focused on Roxanne and the implications of what they’d just learned.

  “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.” The waitress left with a wink.

  “We need to check out that clinic,” said Roxanne.

  “We will. Eat first. We figure out our next move before we make it.”

  Jake’s head was still pounding several hours later. Whatever they’d given him had been slow to wear off, and all he’d had to distract him from the pain was his worry for Rox and Jordyn.

  He had to get out of here. That bitch Stynger had Rox’s address.

  Capture or kill. I don’t care which.

  The thought of either happening to Rox made Jake’s blood heat, causing his pulse to beat against his skull. It was bad enough that he was in this mess; the fact that he’d inadvertently pulled Rox in along with him was unacceptable.

  His bunk mate, Trevor Moss, stumbled through the doorway. “Where were you?”

  “Long story,” said Jake, unwilling to say anything while there was even the slightest risk that his captors would find something to use against Rox.

  Moss sat on his bunk with his elbows propped on his knees, his head hanging down in exhaustion. “Bower tried to kill me today. I bitched about all the fitness shit, and he made me run until I puked, and then some.”

  Jake said nothing about his brain-splitting migraine. He didn’t want to give anyone listening the satisfaction of his pain. “Sorry, man.”

  “I’m so sick of this shit,” said Moss. “I didn’t sign up for this. I want to see some action, or at least some fucking sunlight. Hell, I’d be happy for a thirty-mile march in full gear at this point.”

  Jake tossed a T-shirt over the camera in the room he shared with Moss the way he’d done dozens of time before. So far, no one had complained, but the shirt was taken down every time he woke up. He figured they still had sound and weren’t too worried that there was any hope of their lab rats escaping.

  Aware of possible microphone surveillance, Jake was careful with his words as he knelt on the floor. “They said it would be a couple of months before we were ready, but I think we’re close to getting out of here.”

  Moss’s head came up.

  Jake glanced at the covered camera, reminding his friend they might have an audience.

  Moss nodded. “When do you think the weapons training will start?”

  “Hell if I know,” said Jake, pointing at what he’d discovered when he’d accidentally kicked his sock under his bunk. “But it’s been so long since I held a weapon, I think I’ve forgotten which end to point at the bad guys.”

  Moss crossed the room and got down on his hands and knees. Jake pointed to the small hole in the wall where some kind of nozzle poked out.

  Jake got some toilet paper, wet it, and shoved it into the hole to plug it while Moss went to his side of the room and peered under his own bunk.

  Moss turned around and nodded, anger twisting his face. He must have found another nozzle on his side of the room. “Yeah, I’d really like to get my hands on a weapon, too.”

  Jake handed him the soggy paper, hoping that they’d just plugged the means by which these assholes were drugging them at night.

  “I’m going to hit the sack,” said Moss. “It’s been a shitty day.”

  With any luck at all, and without the knockout gas that had likely been shoved into their lungs every night, Jake could almost guarantee that tomorrow was going to be better. Tomorrow, they’d find a way out of this hellhole, and he’d take Jordyn and Rox somewhere that bitch Stynger couldn’t find them.

  Tanner briefly considered letting his phone roll over to voice mail, but he couldn’t stand to be that much of a coward.

  He braced himself as he answered his older brother’s call. “Hi, Reid.”

  “You made Karen cry.”

  Tanner flinched at that news. This conversation was going to get ugly, and he really didn’t want Roxanne witnessing it.

  He pulled the phone away from his mouth and excused himself from the table, slipping outside onto the sidewalk in front of the diner.

  Heat blasted his skin but did nothing to warm him. “I know,” he admitted. “I wanted to be there, but—”

  “You couldn’t. Bullshit, Tanner.”

  “It’s true. I’m not even in the state.”

  “Story of your life. One I’m getting sick—”

  “Yeah, yeah. You’re sick of hearing it. Listen, Reid,” said Tanner, trying to hold back his anger. “I have good reasons for skipping Millie’s party today, and I’ll be happy to explain them all to you, but—”

  “But not now? Not over the phone? Why? Do you need more time to think up a good excuse?”

  “Will you please stop with the throbbing asshole routine? It’s getting old.”

  “Well, that’s just too fucking bad. You made Karen cry. As far as I’m concerned, that makes you the asshole here.”

  “Razor’s in trouble,” said Tanner, hoping that would appease his brother enough to get him to calm down. He knew Reid had had a shitload of things to deal with since Dad died, but there was only so much slack a man could give before he ran out. Even for his brother.

  Instantly, Reid’s anger faded into complete attention. “What kind of trouble?”

  “Things have happened. I can’t go into it, but I think it’s serious.”

  “Where are you? Are you with her? I’m coming there now.”

  The last thing Tanner wanted was for his brother to storm in and make things worse. Reid’s temper flared too easily, and when the two of them were in a room together, things ha
d a tendency to go to hell. Tanner didn’t want to risk losing his job because he and his brother couldn’t keep their personal problems personal. “No. I’ve got it—”

  “Handled?” Reid sounded skeptical.

  Irritation grated across Tanner’s skin. “I may be your little brother, but I happen to have learned a few things when you weren’t looking. I’ve got it handled.”

  “Fine. Whatever. But don’t think this means that we’re squared away. I’m not smoothing things over with Karen for you again.”

  “Did I ask you to?”

  “You never have asked, but I always do it.”

  “Then stop. I’ll talk to Karen when I get back. I’ll take Millie out for her birthday and celebrate it then.”

  “Without the family.” It was more than a statement. It was an accusation.

  “Just because I don’t do things the way you want doesn’t mean I’m doing them wrong. If you could figure that out, the two of us would get along much better.”

  “And if you could figure out that doing things the way we always have isn’t too good for you, then maybe I wouldn’t have to watch so many people cry because you—”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt their feelings. You know that.” Guilt bore down on Tanner, making him twist inside. The hamburger he just ate sat cold and hard in his gut, daring him to make a wrong move. “I’ll fix it, Reid. Just give me some time.”

  “Do it fast, because if you make Mom cry again, I’m probably going to have to beat the hell out of you.”

  Maybe that would be best. Maybe once Tanner bested his older brother, Reid would see him as a man instead of as a kid. As barbaric as the notion was, it would probably work with his thick-skulled sibling. “I’d like to see you try.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The clinic was closed when Roxanne and Tanner arrived, despite the sign that said they should be open for another ten minutes.

  Roxanne cupped her hands over the glass to ward away the glare and peered into the office. She could barely make out a TV screen on an adjacent wall.

  “The TV is on. They’re probably still in there doing paperwork or something,” she said.

  “One way to find out.” Tanner rapped his knuckles on the glass.

  They waited a few minutes, but no one came. He knocked again.

  “I’ll go peek around back,” he said. “Maybe they just can’t hear me knock.”

  “I’ll go with you.”

  Behind the brick building was a small parking area. Two cars were still in the lot.

  While Tanner knocked on the back door, Roxanne peered into the cars. One had an infant car seat in back and a rumpled set of scrubs printed with brightly colored farm animals. The other was empty of personal items.

  “Still no answer,” said Tanner.

  Roxanne refused to let something as simple as a locked door stop her, but she was also about to break five different laws and didn’t want Tanner anywhere near her criminal intent. “Okay. Go wait for me in the truck.”

  He crossed his thick arms over his chest. “I don’t think so.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “I’m just going to look around for a hide-a-key.”

  “No, you’re planning to break in. I can see it on your face.”

  “You don’t know me well enough to see anything of the sort.”

  He stepped forward, easing inside her personal space. She should have moved back, but she found she liked having him there, close enough that she could smell the heat coming off his skin. She tilted her head back to look him in the eye.

  Shadows draped across his cheek, highlighting the angles of his face. “Don’t I?” he asked. “Why don’t I just stick around and we’ll see who’s wrong.”

  She couldn’t very well break in with a witness, especially one she didn’t want to get in trouble. “There’s no other way. Our lead ends here, and I can’t just stop trying. Jake needs me.”

  “Then we call the police and tell them what we know. In a town this small, they probably know how to reach the doctor who works here. Maybe we can go to his house.”

  “That will take too much time. I need to do this now.”

  “I won’t let you break the law, because I’m not going to be the one who explains to Bella why she has to bail us out.”

  “Not us. Me. And I’ll give you my cash card and PIN to deal with that if it happens, which it won’t.”

  “You’re damn right it won’t, because we’re not taking the chance. We’re going to—”

  From the other side of the back door came a noise. Roxanne covered Tanner’s mouth to quiet him so she could hear better. “Did you hear that?”

  There was a whisper of sound, barely audible over the sound of the hot breeze. Then the door rattled as someone pushed against it from the other side. “Help.”

  Tanner’s face went hard, and he pulled Roxanne aside. “Move away from the door!” he shouted. “I’m going to kick it open.”

  “What if they can’t move? You might hurt them,” said Roxanne. “Window.”

  “Right.” Tanner wasted no time using a landscaping stone to bust through a nearby window. He cleared the glass away and folded his body through the opening.

  Roxanne was right on his heels.

  Lying in front of the back door was a young woman wearing bloody scrubs. She opened her eyes as they approached, but she didn’t move.

  Tanner pulled out his concealed weapon and whispered, “Stay here.”

  Roxanne didn’t waste time arguing with him. The young woman was bleeding out. She pressed her bare hands against the bullet hole in the woman’s chest. Blood seeped between her fingers.

  This wasn’t good enough. The pool of blood beneath the woman indicated the bullet had gone through and she was bleeding from her back as well. If Roxanne didn’t do something soon, she was going to die.

  Tanner came back moments later with his cell phone against his ear. “Only one of them is still alive. I unlocked the front door. Hurry.” He hung up and looked at Roxanne. Whatever he saw there must have told him the whole story, because he didn’t ask any stupid questions, like if the woman was going to be okay. Instead, he said, “I’ll find some bandages.”

  Roxanne doubted that would help, but she wasn’t going to turn away his offer to help.

  “He shot Bill, too,” whispered the woman.

  “Who shot him?”

  “Stranger. Sick. Drugs, I think.” Her eyes fluttered shut and didn’t open again.

  Tanner knelt by her side, ripping open packs of sterile gauze. “The shot went through. I’m going to turn her. Keep up the pressure.”

  Roxanne did. As Tanner pressed the wad of gauze against the woman’s back, she had to steady herself against the strength of his efforts.

  Sirens blared, growing louder until she knew they had to be right outside. The sounds of men entering the clinic filtered down the hallway.

  “Police!” shouted a man.

  “Back here,” called Tanner.

  “Move away from the woman,” ordered the officer.

  “If we do, she’ll bleed to death,” said Roxanne. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a young man pointing a gun at her. Still, she didn’t ease up on the pressure.

  He moved so that he could see over a half wall, and his face went pale. “Oh God. Joyce.” He took a step forward, then thought better of it. “The ambulance should be here in a second. Hold on.”

  Chaos descended on them as a swarm of people crowded the narrow hall. Roxanne gladly gave up the job of keeping Joyce’s blood inside her body to the paramedics.

  She moved to one of the exam rooms to wash her hands, but an older man stopped her. “Sorry, ma’am. I can’t let you do that. This is a crime scene.”

  The blood had begun to dry, making her fingers sticky. “You’re not going to make me wear her blood, are you?”

  The older man’s mouth flattened in distaste, making his long mustache sweep his bottom lip. Authority hung in the air around him, telling her th
at he was not someone to trifle with.

  “Joel, collect some samples and photograph the young lady’s hands, please.”

  Joel was in uniform, and he came over a few seconds later with a large camera. He snapped a dozen photos from various angles, then rubbed several long cotton swabs over her skin before sealing them in individual tubes.

  “I’m Sheriff Bream,” he said, holding out an open container of wet wipes. “How about you tell me who you are and exactly how this all happened.”

  “My name is Roxanne Haught. I’m looking for a friend of mine. The waitress at the diner said she’d seen a man recently who was sick, and she told him to come here. I was hoping to ask a few questions.” She purposefully left out the part about being attacked by the man the waitress recognized, and even misled him into thinking that the man the waitress had seen was her missing friend.

  The sheriff pulled in a deep breath and let it out, as if preparing for a challenge. “Who’s your friend?”

  “Jake Staite.”

  “Why do you think he’s here?”

  “I got an e-mail message from him. It was sent from your town’s library.”

  “Who’s the big guy?” asked the sheriff, nodding toward Tanner.

  “Tanner O’Connell. He’s helping me find Jake.”

  “Tell me what happened when you showed up here.”

  Roxanne told him exactly what had happened—how they’d knocked, saw the TV was on, and thought that they might be heard if they knocked on the back door. She left out the argument about whether or not she should break in but told him about the noise they heard and breaking the back window to get in.

  “Hell of a thing,” said Sheriff Bream. “If you hadn’t shown up, Joyce might have died before we found her.”

  “She said it was a man who did this.”

  “That so?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did she say who it was or what he looked like?”

  “She said he was sick. I think she mentioned drugs. Don’t they have a security camera here you can check?”