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He saw the flashing lights ahead. “There’s the patrol car. Car three eighty-seven. That’s the younger Naylor. Miller is off tonight. He told me she had a date with some bigwig with Barratt-Handley Industries tonight. Probably good thing. No sense in her being out here for this.”
“What are you going to do to him?”
“Not a damned thing. Just…going to give you over to him. Have him take you back to Foster. That’s all.” Naylor would see her safe. While Sol did what he had to do. “Naylor’s a good guy, Hallie. Honest. Heard he’s been digging into business he shouldn’t though. Going to get him into trouble someday. Mark my words.”
“Hope and Madison?”
“I’m going to get them. And bring them back. You…stay in the car until I tell you otherwise.” He was going to make sure it was safe first. He didn’t think Naylor was involved with Wilson’s shit, but—Sol would never take risks with a girl he cared about ever again. He had already paid that cost.
Sol opened the door and looked around. Then cursed. And ran.
77
Haldyn didn’t know what made her do it. But she climbed over the console and followed Detective Kimball out through the open door. She should have thrown the thing into reverse and gotten out of there. That probably would have been the smartest thing to do, after all.
But that would have left Naylor completely unaware of what had happened. And she wasn’t going to do that. She just wasn’t.
Hope and Madison were running out of time. She wasn’t stupid. Time…meant everything. They were only ten minutes away from the TSP. But every minute would count.
“Get back in the car, Hallie. Hurry!” Kimball yelled.
But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t.
Brett Naylor was slumped against the patrol car. She was sure…sure he was dead.
Kimball knelt down. Checked his pulse. “He’s alive, thank God.”
Brett’s eyes opened. “Kimball…Mad…Ope…”
“Where are they, Brett?” Haldyn pulled off the jacket to her pantsuit. She balled it up, thankful it was the lightweight cotton blend. She pressed it against the wound in his chest. She wore a belt. A slim one that was more for decoration, but would hopefully be enough. She used it quickly, to keep the material in place. They had to stop the bleeding. “Where are Hope and Mads?”
“Joey…Costo…bastard. Other guy…took them. And van. Toward the lake…” He cried out when Kimball reached down and helped her tighten the belt. Kimball reached into the patrol car and gave a distress signal to the dispatcher. An officer down call—it would bring everyone it could running. “Less five ago...”
“Hold on, Brett. Help is coming. Just hold on until they get here.” His beautiful eyes opened; she’d always thought he and his brother had the most beautiful green eyes. She leaned forward. She slipped her watch off her wrist—and put it in his hand. She knew. It would be found, recognized. “Kimball is one of them. Choir hall shooters. I have to…go with him. To get Hope and Madison back. I have to.”
Kimball pulled her to her feet. “Come on. We’ve done all we can do for him now. There will be others on their way to him. We have got to get to Hope now. Naylor. Boy, you just concentrate on breathing until they get here, you hear me? Your brother doesn’t deserve to lose you tonight. He just doesn’t. Keep fighting. Just keep fighting for your brother. No matter what. Family…family is what matters most. Remember that. Your brother needs you. So you keep fighting.”
78
Madison stayed where she was. Pretending they’d knocked her out. Trying to think, to figure out what to do next.
The other man had Hope by the throat. In the back of the van. There was equipment all around her. Acid, too. Madison would have ways to potentially defend herself.
If they just didn’t have those guns. She had to think, to come up with a plan.
She kept her eyes closed. Listened. To what Steve Wilson kept telling Hope he was going to do to her. What he was going to do to Heather when he caught her again, too.
When he caught Heather again, too.
Madison almost vomited at the things that man said he was going to do to Hope’s sister. She didn’t know who he hated most—Heather or Hope. He was telling Hope she couldn’t ever compare to her sister, but he was going to enjoy hurting Hope tonight anyway. That Hope owed him for his trouble.
And that one sister was as good as another in the dark.
They were taking them to the reservoir. Where they could have privacy. To do what they wanted first. Madison knew exactly what they were going to do to her and Hope.
Detective Costovia had told her.
Before they killed them—and left them for the boys of Major Crimes to find. As a message from the ones Major Crimes had been after for so long. The people in charge were angry—over the mile marker forty-four bust. And all the busts that had come before. That’s all it was. They were angry.
