Page 45 of Save Her Life (Sandra Vos #1)

FORTY-FOUR

Before setting out for the park, Sandra was back in the WFO. Nolan was researching the history of the fishing cabin, while she was getting prepared for the meet. She tucked a bug in with the underwire of one cup of her bra and a tracker in the other, in case things veered sideways. Then she got dressed in fresh clothes. She also powdered on some makeup and headed to her desk.

Nolan looked up at her. “Got some info on the cabin. Its demolition was ordered three years ago, and the contract to do so was awarded to GetRGone.”

“Someone on that crew netted a good payday,” she said.

“If the gold was there in the first place.”

“Patton’s my least favorite person, or at least one of.” Jennings was vying for top of the list. “But let’s give him the benefit of the doubt.”

“That’s a first. That never worked for me.”

She wasn’t touching that. “Let’s find out who worked on that job and have a talk with them.”

“I’ll take care of it. You have someplace to be.” He nudged his head toward the clock that was circling way too fast. There were only forty-one minutes left before the meet. She still needed to get in place and confirm where everything stood.

“You’re right. But don’t let that go to your head,” she quickly added with a smile. “I just need to confirm that Radcliffe has my ‘gold.’” She was going to call him when he walked toward her desk.

“The nine bars are ready, totaling two hundred and forty-seven-point-six pounds. It’s all fake, but we want the weight to feel real.”

“And you checked with Agent Sutton on the hallmarks and serial numbers?” Nolan asked Gabe.

“Done and done.”

“Where is the gold?” she asked.

“Ready to be loaded into a vehicle. Just point me to which one.”

“That would be into mine,” she told him. She turned to Nolan. “I’ll leave the tracking down of the real gold to you?”

“As I said.”

“Though, I could use some help loading it.” Gabe looked at Nolan.

“Of course.”

She put on a thick bulletproof vest, then her coat over that, and the three of them set out for her Mercedes in the lot. The two men picked up a wooden crate with rope handles on the way.

“Nice wheels,” Gabe said at the sight of her Mercedes.

“Thanks. I like it.” She kicked her foot under the rear bumper, and the trunk opened.

“Handy feature,” Gabe said. “I’ve got that in my Hyundai too.”

Gabe and Nolan lifted the crate into the back, and she closed the lid. The fact this box of fake gold was meant to pay for Olivia’s life washed over her. What if she messed up and her girl paid the price for her incompetence? Her legs buckled, and Nolan rushed to help her remain upright.

“You’ve got this,” he whispered in her ear.

That’s all she needed. One expression of belief. She stood tall and nodded. “I’m off.”

“Good luck,” Gabe said, and the sentiment made her cringe. Probably for its accuracy. So much of what the future held was hinged on happenstance. When she worked a crisis incident, she had a roadmap to follow. Even when there were detours that were specific to that situation, she could find her way back. Where she was about to go was unexplored territory for her.

“Thank you.” She got behind the wheel and drove out of the lot afraid of looking back. But her gaze traveled there anyhow, and she caught a glimpse of Nolan. It was candid and clear that he was just as scared as she was.

The afternoon was cool but sunny with not a cloud in the sky. It would have been a pleasant day if not for what lay ahead of her. Sandra would either get her daughter back alive or seal her fate.

She parked near Georgetown Waterfront Park and got out of the car. There was no sign of the black GMC van, but Jennings could have parked in an underground garage.

She had ten minutes until the meet, and every step she took toward the labyrinth was leaden. She spied the agents posed throughout the park as joggers and walkers. There were one or two pushing baby strollers. Civilians would have been cleared from the vicinity in a discreet manner when the meet was first arranged. While she knew the only people left were agents, hopefully Jennings would be fooled.

She was also aware that snipers were set up, but she didn’t know where they were positioned. They’d be perched in their nests watching her through their optics right this minute. They were bound by FBI shooting protocol, which mandated a weapon was only to be fired when there was immediate risk to life or of or extreme bodily injury. Regardless, their presence still made her nervous, but Elwood insisted they be there. “Nonnegotiable,” he had said.

She reached the center of the labyrinth, conscious of the fact a man’s body had just been found there yesterday morning. Placed there by the man who had her daughter and who she was about to meet, no less.

A cool breeze whirled around her and had her tucking farther into the neck of her coat. There was something about being where death had been that brought with it a tangible sensation. It also clung energetically, as if the soul of the departed lingered, trying to make sense of their death.

Even with a vest, a wire, a tracker, and surrounded by agents, she felt vulnerable. While she waited for the minutes to pass, her head was on a swivel. She felt exposed enough without giving up her back to a gun or knife. No sign of Lonnie Jennings yet.

She kept looking around. After a bit of time passed, she received a phone call from Jennings.

“Look to the right of the labyrinth, to the cluster of bushes,” he told her.

She turned and saw him. “I see you.”

“Come over here.” He hung up, and she walked over.

There was no sign of Olivia, and it curdled in her gut. She answered, “This was to be an exchange. Where is Olivia?”

“Where’s the gold?”

She squared her posture. “It’s in my car. I’ll take you to it once I see Olivia.” Get proof of life…

He reached into his jacket pocket, and she instinctively backed up.

Instead of pulling a gun, he took out a cell phone. “Say ‘hi’ to Mommy.” He spoke to it and turned the screen toward her.

It was a live feed, and it showed Olivia tied to a chair. Her long hair was matted to her face from sweat and… Blood? Rage ran through her.

“Mom,” Olivia cried out. “Help me. Please.”

“Olivia, Mommy’s coming for you, baby. I love you.”

“I love?—”

Jennings cut the feed and snatched his phone back to himself. “Reunion’s over. Where’s the gold?”

She was analyzing what she saw around Olivia. She’d guess an abandoned warehouse, wood trusses overhead. “You didn’t bring her here. The deal was Olivia for the gold.” She peacocked her stance despite how seeing Olivia had thrown her. Jennings’s tactic to shake her had worked, but it also backfired. Witnessing Olivia’s dilemma fueled her with more determination to see this through. This bastard in front of her was on borrowed time.

“Things change. You should know that by now. You hand over the gold, and I’ll tell you where to collect her.”

“I have no reason to believe a word you say,” she spat, temporarily losing her cool.

Jennings pulled a gun, just enough that she saw his hand on the grip. She was unarmed, part of the deal. “Take me to the gold. Now.” He prompted her to move with a nudge of the gun, with it still hidden in his pocket.

She started walking, not too thrilled about putting her back to him, but she didn’t have much choice. She took him to her Mercedes and popped the hatch. “It’s all there. We found it right where Darrell said it would be.”

Jennings hesitated. Just briefly. But telling. Something was wrong.

“I told you to come alone,” he hissed.

“I did. I swear I did.”

“You just said we found the gold.”

“I had help finding it, but I’m here alone.” Served in a level and calm tone.

He scanned her eyes and shook his head. “You’re lying to me, Special Agent Vos. Now it’s not just your daughter’s life at risk.”

She imagined him taking the gun from his pocket and shooting her right there and making off with her Mercedes and the gold. Thinking about her life coming to an end didn’t scare her. Failing Olivia did. “Please, don’t be rash. Just take the gold. It’s right there.” She pointed at it and heard the pleading in her voice.

“Nah. Get in the car.”

“What?”

“Get in the car,” he hissed.

She headed for the driver’s seat, catching the eye of an agent walking by with a stroller. Sandra subtly shook her head.

Jennings slammed the back shut and joined her in the vehicle. “Give me your phone.”

She couldn’t lie and say she didn’t have one when he’d just called her on it not long ago. She handed over her phone, and he tossed it out the door.

“Now drive,” he barked.

“Where do you want me to go?” She didn’t know the destination he had in mind but was also stalling for time.

“Why are you being difficult? Just drive.” He had his gun out now and was waving it around in the confines of the vehicle.

“Okay.” She turned on the car and put it in reverse but didn’t move.

“Drive!” Jennings shouted.

She pulled out of the spot and drove in the direction Jennings told her.

“Keep driving.” He punched his back into the seat but kept the gun on her. “Go west on Route 29.”

She did as he told her and put Washington in her rearview mirror. She looked for any agents who might be following, but if they were, they were doing a good job of keeping a low profile. But Jennings had her taking a lot of turns, and he kept looking behind them too. Once she hit a more rural section, Jennings requested that she pull over.

“Why?” One more glance at the rearview. No one was there. The road was barren.

“I said, pull over.”

“Right here? Where are we anyway, getting close to Gainesville, Virginia?” She was talking more for whoever was listening in on her wire. But if backup didn’t show soon, this could be where she died. At the side of the road, her body tossed into the ditch. She pulled over, the gravel of the shoulder crunching beneath her wheels.

“Just get out of the car.”

“Why? We have open road.”

“Do it!” he screamed, and his voice battered her ears.

“I’m getting out.” She undid her belt and opened her door.

He got out too and was around to her in a flash. He grabbed her arm and was nudging her onto the edge of the road.

Just before he got a hold on her, she spotted a metal nail file in the cubbyhole of the door. She snatched it before closing the door behind her. It wasn’t a gun, but it could be used as a weapon, nonetheless.

“Strip,” he told her.

“What? No.” She was quaking. If she took off her shirt, there was the risk he’d find her wire and tracker. Then she’d be dead. “We can talk about this. You wanted the gold, Lonnie. I got you the gold.”

“Just shut up! Coat, vest, and shirt off now!”

“It’s nearly zero degrees out here. You don’t need to be this person.”

Jennings laughed. “I killed my friend, lady, I don’t care if you get cold.” He waved the gun in her face. “Take it off.”

It was consent or fight for her life. Surely, if he found either device, he’d kill her. And all because she fucking messed up by saying we found the gold. She brandished the nail file and lurched forward. Her desire was to injure him and assume control of the gun.

But he jerked out of reach and pulled the trigger.

She dropped down. The report was deafening, and the round barely missed her. It was a miracle it had.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jennings grabbed her arm with the file and squeezed her wrist until her hand released it and it dropped to the ground.

She cried out as her vision flashed white.

“Now, take off your damn shirt!” He thrust the gun toward her, adding emphasis to his verbal threat.

She held up her hand in surrender and started to stand. She considered attacking him again, but common sense filtered in. If she did and failed, he wasn’t bound to miss a second time, and where would that leave Olivia? No, it was best she played along for a while longer.

“Fine. I’m taking it off now.” She shucked out of her coat and let it fall to the ground. Then her bulletproof vest.

“Hurry up.”

Next, she unbuttoned her long-sleeved shirt, revealing her bra.

“Off with it too.”

She unhooked it from the back, slid out of the straps, and grabbed it down one of the sleeves.

“Hand it to me.”

She did, not even caring that she was standing there half-naked at the side of the road. She didn’t even feel the cold. She was more concerned that he’d find what she’d tucked into the underwire of both cups.

He licked his lips as he stared at her exposed breasts. Under his watch, she felt chilled, but she retained a strong stance. She wasn’t going to let this creep play mind games on her. And if he had other ideas, he’d better pray to God because he’d need divine help if he decided to act on his base impulses. “Wait, what the hell is this?” He plucked out the small listening device. “You didn’t think I’d find this? That means that your little fed buddies are listening in right now. Are they going to hear you die? I’m not a fan of a live audience.”

“That’s up to you.” There was no point in denying that they’d be listening in. “You’re in charge.”

Jennings roared and threw the bug to the ground and smashed it under his boot, twisting his heel for good measure.

She remained quiet, clinging to silence as her ally.

“I should kill you, but get dressed. Let’s move.” He threw her bra at her, and she jammed it into a pants pocket, and scrambled to do up the buttons on her shirt. She bent for the vest, but he stood on it. “That stays.”

She zipped up her coat and got behind the wheel of her car. No agents were within sight, but she shouldn’t be alone for long. The tracker was still in the bra, which was on her person. But would help come before it was too late?