[Alex Mercer 01.0] Girl in Trouble Page 23

  “Are you going to be okay? Do you need help moving your things from the condo?”

  “No. Just take your things and leave your key on the counter when you’re done.”

  A heavy air of finality settled on him. “Okay.”

  “That reminds me.” She dug into her purse, pulled out her keychain, and slid off the key to his place. “Here you go. I’m pretty sure I didn’t leave anything there.”

  “If I find anything, I’ll drop it off.”

  “Thanks.”

  Kellen held the key next to the ring. He was supposed to be planning a bachelor party. How had things turned south so fast? He cleared his throat and rose from the chair. “Like I said, if you need anything, just let me know.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, this is it.”

  She turned and met his gaze. “This is it.”

  No parting kiss, no tearful goodbye. Just a key, a ring, and a see-you-later.

  “Bye, Kellen.”

  Scared

  Ariana’s head snapped down toward her chest as she started to fall asleep. She sat up and looked around her new room—in a whole different house. There was no way she was getting out of this one. Lloyd had made sure of that.

  This room had nothing in it other than carpeting, and she couldn’t use that to escape. She scraped a nail along the white wall. It had been hours since she’d heard anything from Lloyd. Earlier, he’d slid a plate of breakfast in without any utensils. He’d given her a bucket to pee in. Ariana had put it in the opposite corner and placed the empty plate over it to keep the smell in.

  Her stomach rumbled. She wanted to eat, but even more, she wanted to go home.

  Ariana rubbed her sore side. Her ankles hurt, too. Everything seemed to remind her of her botched escape. That was probably exactly what Lloyd wanted.

  Her eyes grew heavy. Finally, she couldn’t fight the sleepiness. She curled into a ball and fell asleep.

  It was dark when she woke up. A banging noise sounded from a nearby room. Maybe that was what had woken her.

  The noise continued. Every so often, it stopped. Then she could hear Lloyd grumbling. Then the banging started again.

  Ariana’s stomach growled again, fiercer than before. She sat up and clutched her middle. When would he let her eat again? Would he even let her eat another meal?

  She crawled over to the wall nearest the sound and pressed her ear against it. It was too muffled to be able to tell what he was doing. She shivered, sure she didn’t want to find out.

  Ariana banged on the wall. He didn’t respond. She pounded harder.

  “Shut up!”

  “I’m hungry!”

  An electric saw sounded.

  She waited for it to stop and then hit the wall again.

  “I said to stop!”

  Ariana banged with both fists until her knuckles hurt.

  The door flew open. “Did you not hear me?”

  “I need to eat.”

  “Did you learn nothing from pounding on your bedroom door? I can make things far worse than this.”

  She swallowed and backed away from him.

  “That’s what I thought. Now shut up and leave me alone. I thought it was going to work out with you, so I didn’t prepare for this. Now I’m going to have to work extra hard to get this done in time.”

  “In time for what?”

  “Shut up!” He slammed the door, locked the three deadbolts, and scraped the chair underneath the doorknob. Ariana was now all too familiar with those sounds.

  The noises of the saw and the banging alternated as Ariana’s stomach begged for food. She felt light-headed.

  If only she hadn’t tried to escape.

  Plans

  Something sounding like a jackhammer woke Alex. He sat up, hitting his head on the desk lamp. His phone was buzzing next to his laptop on the desk. Clementine jumped from his lap, ran to a corner, and stared at Alex.

  He grabbed his phone and checked the text. It was from a blocked number.

  You just couldn’t leave it alone, could you?

  “No, Flynn, I couldn’t! Not when you have my daughter, you no good piece of horse—”

  The door flew open. His mom came in. “What’s going on? Who are you yelling at?”

  Alex held up his phone. “I have to go.”

  “Where?”

  “Out. I’ll be back.”

  Her eyes widened. “I don’t like the sound of that. Where are you going?”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “How can I not?”

  “Then trust me.” He grabbed his jacket from the end of his bed and slid it on. “I should be back soon.”

  “Should be?”

  Unless he ended up dead or in jail. “Yeah. I love you, Mom.” He gave her a quick hug and kissed her forehead.

  “Alex…”

  “Bye, Mom.” He ran past her and headed outside, sliding on his boots as he went. He’d tie them in the car.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket. He swore out loud before climbing into the Tercel. After he started the car and tied his laces, he checked the message. Another blocked number. No surprise there.

  You’re really testing my patience.

  “And you’re testing mine.” Alex started the car and squealed away. He drove to Flynn’s work first. It was pretty late, and chances were slim he’d be there, but it would also be the easier building to get inside.

  Flynn’s car wasn’t in the parking lot.

  Time to head to his house. It was going to be challenging to get inside a gated community, but he was determined to find a way.

  Alex’s phone buzzed again, but he didn’t bother looking at it. The kidnapper could wait and say everything to his face.

  He made his way across town and slowed as he approached the expensive neighborhood. A security guard sat in a little booth in front of a wrought iron gate. If this was the movies, Alex would just take him out and go inside. But he didn’t want to kill anyone, not even Flynn unless it ended up turning into a life or death situation.

  Alex needed to use some charm, first to get through the gate, and then to get inside Flynn’s house. He’d often been able to get out of bad grades or a grounding when he was growing up. His skills were rusty, but he could tap into them. He needed them now more than ever.

  He ran his hands through his hair and practiced his best smile. It was a start. He sat taller and drove up to the gate as though he belonged there.

  The guard turned to him and opened his door. Alex waved. The guard motioned for him to roll down his window.

  Alex did. “Can you open the gate, kind sir?” Maybe that was overkill. He grinned.

  “What’s your business?”

  Other than to deal with a kidnapper? “I’m here to speak with Flynn Myer. He’s expecting me.” That was probably the truth, based on the threats.

  “Hold on.” The guard stepped inside for a minute.

  Alex’s mind raced with different responses. He just had to get in there.

  The guard stepped back out. “Myer hasn’t left any notes about a guest. You’ll have to come back later.”

  “Can you call him?” Alex asked.

  His expression looked put out. “Who shall I say is here?”

  “Alex. He’ll know who I am.” It wasn’t likely that Flynn would allow him in, but it was all he had. If nothing else, it would show the bully that Alex Mercer wasn’t one to be pushed around.

  “Give me a minute.” The guard stepped inside again.

  “Sure.”

  What would he do if Myer let him in? That would clearly give Flynn the advantage, but at least he would know where the man lived, and more importantly, where he was probably keeping Ariana. From what he could see through the gate, the houses lived up to their reputation, but that didn’t mean anything. He looked like the type who kept a hidden torture room.

  The guard stepped back out. “He says that unfortunately he’s too busy for company now.”

  Alex nearly snorted. “
Tell him I’ll meet him at work. His office.” Alex backed up and turned around.

  It was his turn to strike some fear into Flynn’s heart.

  Office

  Alex parked near the back of the nearly empty parking lot. He had no front plate and he had backed into the spot, hiding the back plate against a shrub.

  Darkness had settled and the wind was beginning to pick up again. He kept his attention on the entrance and also on the building itself. Only a few lights shone from inside. Most everything was black. Empty.

  It might actually be the perfect time to check out Flynn’s place of work—with no one there to ask questions. If Flynn didn’t take the bait to meet, that was what Alex would do. He had to be able to find something. Perhaps a stray note in his desk or something on his computer.

  Flynn kept his house well protected, but maybe he let his guard down at work. It could be his safety zone—that was his alibi, after all.

  Alex glanced back over to the parking lot entrance. Part of him hoped Flynn would drive in so he could beat the information out of him, but he also hoped he could go through his things inside the building.

  He checked his phone. Just a text from Mom. Nothing from Flynn.

  Had Alex actually rattled him for a change?

  Alex watched the entrance, but it was dead.

  He’d waited long enough. It was time for action. Alex reached into the back seat and felt around for a hat. He found a Mariners cap. That would have to do. He slid it on and shaped the bill so it would best hide his face. He’d have to be sure to keep looking down, because a place like that building was sure to have tons of cameras all over.

  One last quick glance toward the parking lot entrance. Still nothing.

  Alex stuffed his keys into his pocket and stepped out. He left it unlocked in case he needed to run out and make a getaway. There wasn’t anything worth stealing, anyway.

  He hurried across the lot to the building, keeping his gaze averted from any possible—probable—cameras. He pulled his hoodie out from underneath his coat and covered the cap, hoping for a little more shadowing of his features.

  Someone wearing a fancy suit came out of the main entrance. Alex quickly grabbed his phone and pretended to be in the middle of an important conversation. He threw in some geeky tech words as he passed the man, careful to look away from him.

  The guy didn’t seem to pay any attention to Alex. He was busy staring at his own phone. Busy enough to stumble over a curb. Any other time, Alex would have found that funny.

  He rushed to the door and grabbed it just before it closed. It was a good thing, too, because there was a code box on the wall next to the handle. That could’ve been why Flynn hadn’t shown up—he wasn’t worried about Alex getting in.

  “You underestimated me, sucker.”

  He glanced around the dimly lit entrance and went over to a directory, doing his best to keep from looking up too high. There were about a dozen companies, and all their names were obscure enough that Alex couldn’t venture a guess which one Flynn worked at.

  Then he noticed an employee directory. It was a long list, taking up three columns, covering several businesses in the building. He scanned for Myer. There it was—Myer, F.

  Bingo.

  Flynn was on the top level. That would be just great if Alex needed a quick getaway. He sighed but wouldn’t be put off. This was his only real chance to find out more about where he was keeping Ariana.

  Alex passed the elevators and found some stairs. The chances of the stairwell having cameras were a lot lower than the elevators. He continued to keep his head low and hurried up the steps. His breathing grew labored and muscles started aching.

  It was only the fourth level. Flynn was on the fifteenth. He vowed to start working out after all this was done.

  By the time he reached the top floor, he leaned against the wall and gasped for air. Once he caught his breath, he opened the door and entered another dimly lit area. The hallway had freshly polished hardwood floors and framed awards covering the walls. The air smelled heavily of pine and cleaners.

  Alex wasn’t sure which way to go. He decided on left. His boots squeaked on the floor. He cringed, hoping no one was around to hear them.

  He came to some doors, slowing to peek in the first one. It had some copy machines and other similar equipment. The next one had a fridge, table, and five different coffee machines. Apparently nerds and serial killers were particular about their caffeine.

  Finally, he came to some actual offices. He checked the nameplate on the outside of the first one. Not Flynn. Neither was the next one or the next. Alex picked up his pace until he came to F. Myer—at last.

  He paused, taking in the sight. It was a boring office, no different from the rest, really. It was kind of disappointing, but what had he expected? Posters of all the girls he’d killed? Newspaper clippings plastered along the walls? There was a clean desk with a desktop computer, a couple knickknacks, and a small pile of papers. Next to that was a file cabinet and a shelf full of manuals and other books. A few framed awards decorated the walls.

  The only pictures were of him accepting some of the awards. No friends, no family, no girlfriend, or vacations. Not even pets. It made him seem even more like serial killer material. Who else would be so blatantly boring? It was like he was trying to convince the world he was docile.

  Alex knew that was a lie as much as Flynn himself knew it. It was just a matter of finding proof—and some clue as to where he had Ariana. Maybe if Alex was especially lucky, he might find a spare key to his house—or maybe a secret second home. A storage unit, perhaps. If Flynn had enough money to live in the gated community, he had enough for a second house.

  Excitement ran through him as he thought about what he might find.

  He poked his head out of the office and listened. The only sounds were the electronic hums of various devices.

  Alex adjusted his cap and studied the room. The desk drawers seemed the obvious place to begin, but the bookshelf called to him. If Flynn had something to hide, that seemed the logical place to put it.

  He went over and squatted in front of the books and manuals. They all had equally boring titles. It was hard to know where to start. He grabbed one at random and flipped through the pages. Nothing fell out. He feathered through them again, looking for handwritten notes.

  Nothing.

  Alex put it back and reached for another. Again, nothing. He tried several more, coming up with the same result.

  Footsteps sounded down the hallway.

  Retreat

  Alex froze, midway through replacing the book on the shelf. The steps grew louder—closer.

  Had Flynn taken the bait?

  The footsteps slowed as they neared the office.

  Alex shoved the book back into place and scooted closer to the desk, hiding from view. He felt his pockets for weapons. If he’d have been thinking straight, he would have brought his pistol, but he kept it at the shooting range and hadn’t thought to bring it. All he had was an oversized pocketknife. It would do the job if he needed to use it—assuming of course that the other guy didn’t have a gun.

  The footsteps stopped.

  Alex’s heart nearly did, too. He wrapped his fingers around the knife, ready to pull out the blade at a moment’s notice.

  “Someone in here?” asked a male voice with a southern accent.

  Flynn didn’t have an accent.

  “Huh. Thought I heard something. Guess not.” Footsteps sounded again, this time growing quieter.

  Alex leaned against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief. He crept over to the door and poked his head out.

  A janitor walked down the hall, sweeping as he went.

  That had been close. But not enough to sway Alex. He went back to the shelf and feathered through each book and manual, finding nothing. Not even a stray pencil mark.

  It was time to go through the desk. The top drawer was locked—that had to be where the good stuff was located. Alex didn’t have
anything on him to pick the lock. His only hope was that Flynn had been careless and left the key somewhere.

  He opened the next drawer, finding only pens and pads of paper. The next one had basic office supplies—staples, paper clips, and a three-hole punch. The next one had mail. Alex went through it quickly, still finding nothing.

  It would appear that Flynn was careful. But nobody was perfect. He had to have slipped up somewhere, and if it was in the office, Alex was determined to find it. He opened another and—

  His cell phone buzzed in his pocket.

  Alex swore under his breath and pulled it out.

  Blocked number, of course.

  You have exactly thirty seconds to get out of my office.

  Dread washed through Alex, but then he smiled. He’d gotten a reaction from Flynn. He raised his hand high into the air and gave him the one-finger salute. He spun in a circle to make sure that no matter where the hidden camera was, it caught the gesture.

  Alex then returned his phone to the pocket and dug through the drawer he’d just opened.

  Something beeped behind him. It continued in a rhythmic pattern.

  Slowly, he turned around. A small red light blinked in time with the beeping from inside a cabinet. The light shone through the crack in between the doors.

  Flynn wouldn’t have planted a bomb in his office? Or would he? He might just be crazy enough to do just that—especially if he had evidence of his crimes in there.

  His phone buzzed again.

  The beeping sped up.

  Alex glanced back and forth between the red light and the open drawer. He couldn’t risk his life before finding Ariana.

  He burst into a run, sliding on the hardwood floor. His hands flew out and he knocked a frame off the wall. It crashed to the floor and the glass broke.

  “Who’s there?” the janitor called.

  Alex swore again and ran toward the stairs. He burst through the door and flew downstairs as fast as he could without stumbling again.

  An alarm wailed somewhere.

  All this trouble, and he hadn’t found anything. The only proof he’d gotten was that Flynn Myer was possibly the most boring guy alive—which he knew was a cover-up. The man was crazy. Who set up a bomb in their office? Clearly, someone who had something to hide.