CHAPTER SIXTEEN (INTO EVERY LIFE......)
The facility was registered to Josef Lundren.
Jim Brass sat, observing the carefully laid out Industrial Park below the cul de sac on which he had parked, overlooking a vast flat stretch of land on the outskirts of the search parameter.
His attention was focused on the one lone building occupying several acres of cemented lots adjoining each other. The grounds had seen better days, left to overgrow with vegetation, the sand storms of the region having drifted over much of the space.
A small hill sloped gently down behind the structure, ending with a barbed wire fence which ran a goodly stretch of what everyone laughingly referred to as, the Las Vegas River bed.
Actually a series of cement ducts, twelve feet high, designed to direct any access drainage to the city's water supply, Lake Mead..the system was empty and dry most times.
Las Vegas, being a tourist town, heavily fined anyone illegally dumping anything into their precious 'water supply'. Being surrounded by a desert kept one painfully conscious of one's 'water supply', after all.
Surveillance cameras were set up in the Nineties to put a stop to such practice.
It was off one of these camera feeds that Tom Haligan had pulled the film of a 2004, silver grey Explorer, pulling into the deserted lot at the address below. Last Tuesday afternoon...2:48 P.M., about forty-five minutes after Haley Meadows had been abducted.
Although the vehicle was now, nowhere to be seen, Brass knew this was the place he needed to be at this particular moment in time. Every 'cop' sense he had, alerted him to the fact. Every fiber of his being said..we've found the fucker!
The place..an old lumber yard, closed now for years, appeared empty and deserted.
Brass was not fooled.
At first he had been exhilarated, his heart pumping adrenalin like crazy but, as time passed, the familiar routine of police work settled his nerves.
He had ordered all communication by cell phone in case this whack job was monitoring police air waves. A chopper circled high overhead, feeding back information every few minutes, to which, Carlos Rivera passed on to Brass.
The black and whites were stationed at every possible route of escape, blocking all streets leading in and out of the area. Officers on foot, approached the building from all directions.
Brass could see his men's advancement from his advantage point. Dressed in full 'tactical gear', armed to the teeth, they were definitely in their 'stealth' mode. Jim had donned his flac vest, checked his weapon and finished his coffee.
He waited out the time remaining until he could enter the building itself. The air conditioner felt good in the car. He put it in gear, pulling away from the curb, heading down to 'ground zero'.
It was time.
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
Haley Meadows lay, her slight body curled into a fetal position, shivering in the soft cushioned embrace of the king sized bed in the dimly lit room.
She was cold and weary although the room, itself, was quite comfortable, temperature wise.
She wanted to go home but, in reality, Haley did not have a real home these days. Her job kept her so much 'on the go' that, she rarely even touched base with the small apartment she rented in Washington D.C..
She had boxes left to unpack still. What had it been now? Three years? Since she had joined Vincent Duvalier's team? Of course, she had known the man many years before that event.
Duvalier had put up the book shelves on the bedroom wall, last November.. bitching all the while about having to do so, saying..that's why God made maintenance guys. So, Haley had actually set her beloved collection of Jane Austin out, all neatly lined up, categorized by publisher's dates.
Duvalier had rolled his eyes, sneering something about 'chick flicks' even though they were 'novel's she unpacked. Not that she did not own the DVDs as well. The man had gone off in search of pizza and beer, which Haley had promised in payment for his time and effort on her behalf.
He had finished watching a football game, which hadn't seemed to make him any more content, but Haley was happy, cleaning and arranging her bedroom. Getting everything in order, setting her favorite vases and 'chick things' out here and there. Making the space her own.
She had come out to find Vincent asleep on her couch, which is where he spent the night.
Haley desperately wanted to be in her own bed. In her own apartment again. She could top that..she wouldn't even have minded seeing Vincent Duvalier along about now, truth told.
Her thoughts turned to...Jim Brass.
Was the man looking for her? Surely he was! She felt better knowing he was out there somewhere, that he had her six.
He would find her. She just had to hang on. Keep this guy occupied....get some useful information out of him in case they...when they...found her, she would not have let the guys down. She would have done her part..Vincent Duvalier would not be so bitchy..maybe.
She was still alive. That was something to which the other eleven women could not boast.
She couldn't get warm, no matter how she tried. She wanted to get under the covers for they seemed thick and inviting. But, she did not. She lay..cold and empty inside.
How much time had passed?
How long had she been here?
How much longer would she be forced to stay?
She closed her eyes and relived the time in the hotel room with Jim Brass. Each detail was etched in her mind's eye. She could remember how he smelled, that...mellow, deep lustrous scent he wore mixed with the clean tang of soap and pure male.
Haley had reveled in the warmth of his flesh, from the light feathery touch of his calloused palm to the comfort she received when she snuggled into his neckline. The hard contour of his thigh against her's, the heat of his body as it lay pressed along the length of her. His arm around her waist, holding her close, their fingers..intertwined. His low, even breathing tickling her nape.
She had felt secure and protected and..safe.
She felt none of those things now.
Where the fuck was he? Where was Vincent Duvalier?
This fucking sucked.
Someone had better just come and get her out of this horrible place! They had just better come real fast! That's all she was going to say about that.
She sniffed threateningly, wiped her nose with a handy tissue she had stolen from the decorated box on the vanity, and determined to give the men hell when next she saw them. The asswipes..putting her through this shit! What were they thinking??
She hunkered down and determined to wait them out. But, ohhh..they would soooo pay for this little farce! On her mother's grave, they would pay, never mind her mom was alive and well and living in Boca Raton. There was a principle involved here. SOMEONE was going to get hell for this misery!
Or SOMEONE was going to be very sorry! Very sorry indeed!