Beyond Innocence Read online

  With the speed of a snake his hand lashed out and grabbed a handful of hair. She whimpered at the pain.

  “You can quit the innocent act. You two were awfully cozy. I saw the whole scene in the alley. I didn’t quite get it but it was obvious Tate seems to have found somebody to care about. And I don’t believe for a second that he didn’t share all kinds of stuff about me during pillow talk or over a goddamn breakfast.” He gripped her hair a little tighter and sneered, “Well?”

  At last, she realized he expected some sort of response, and this time she figured she better stick with the truth. “Yes,” she breathed. “He told me a little. Him and the cops.”

  Calvin released her, and she rubbed at the aching muscles in her neck.

  “Good.” He peered out the window, taking stock of their location and direction.

  They were in what appeared to be an industrial area. The streets were dark and devoid of cars and activity. She caught a glimpse of water between the buildings, and the flickering lights of what appeared to be a huge ship. The dark monolith slipped away from view as they continued driving. The structures loomed large and empty and foreboding. Plastic bags and old foam coffee cups skittered across the pavement as if being chased by invisible demons. Every detail that flitted past her window seemed an evil omen of an uncertain fate.

  Perhaps she was being pessimistic. She was an intelligent, resourceful woman, and this Calvin didn’t strike her as one of the brightest bulbs in the pack. But he was strong and mean and he was toting a big, powerful gun. Unfortunately, intelligence and ingenuity weren’t enough to tip the scales in her favor. She searched her mind for options but could find none.

  “Two more streets, turn right,” instructed her captor.

  “What are you going to do?” As soon as she said it she regretted it.

  Calvin’s stare riveted back on her. “I been thinking on that. You are a sweet little piece of ass. Not quite my type, but…still…”

  Marnie felt the sting of tears, and he laughed at her.

  “Don’t worry, honey. I was just teasing. I got too many other things on my mind.”

  Marnie chewed on her lip until she tasted blood. She was aching to ask but she had a feeling he’d tell her eventually and she had no desire to communicate with him any more than was necessary.

  They turned down the street as Calvin had instructed. “There,” he pointed with the barrel of the gun. “The last rathole on the left. Just pull into the overhang beside it.”

  The driver did as he was told but Marnie could see his fingers shaking. Despite her own turmoil she ached for him. He had no connection to this. He had been sucked in by pure chance. He didn’t deserve to get hurt by a lunatic on a rampage. But, then again, nobody ever did.

  “Cut the engine.” Calvin’s voice had dropped into the barely audible range, and Marnie saw something in his eyes that frightened her.

  “O-okay, Mac,” sputtered the driver. “I did what you said, now—”

  The blast of the gun rocketed through Marnie as if it had penetrated her own flesh. Her scream echoed inside the cab for brief seconds before Calvin plastered his hand across her mouth. “Shut up, you stupid bitch.”

  She blinked away tears and tried to avert her eyes from what remained of the cab driver’s head. The smell of gunpowder burned her lungs as excess oxygen flooded her brain. Her limbs turned to water.

  “If I take my hand away, will you shut up? I wouldn’t want to have to silence you permanently.”

  She nodded slowly and tried to steady her breathing. The last thing she wanted to do was hyperventilate. She had to keep her head about her, stay alert and aware. She had to find a way to help herself, even though at that moment she felt completely helpless.

  He removed his hand and holstered his gun. Obviously, he didn’t believe she was a threat. “Why did you kill him?” she breathed.

  “Cuz he got my name wrong.” Calvin’s smile was cold and monstrous. “And by the way, that’s pretty much what I have planned for your boyfriend.”

  “Tate?” she mouthed the word but wasn’t sure if it was audible over the pounding of her heart.

  “Yeah,” he cooed. “Tate. I can’t get near him because of the heat that’s on him all the time, so I figured I’d have to persuade him to come to me. And there’s something he has to bring along when he does.”

  “Bait? I’m bait?”

  “You’re smarter than you look. I already got his kid, but when I saw him all over you back at the club I figured you were an even better bet. I like having lots of insurance.”

  “All this just to kill him?” It ran through Marnie’s mind that Calvin could have picked Tate off with a high-powered rifle if that was all he wanted. Why go to all this trouble? She chose not to dwell on the image of Tate’s body being jerked back by a sniper’s bullet.

  “No, you moron. I want the money. He’s hidden it somewhere and I want it. Plus, I wouldn’t mind seeing him suffer some more.” He pushed open the car door. “It’s annoying as hell when you kill somebody and they just won’t stay dead.”

  Marnie fought back waves of nausea as Calvin dragged her from the car. The odor of fish and seaweed mingled with the stench of blood and death, and she watched in silence as he covered the cab with an enormous tarp.

  She had considered assuring Calvin that there was no money, but she had immediately decided that would be a bad idea. Even if he believed her, that wouldn’t be in Tate’s best interests—or hers. As long as Calvin believed Tate had information that could benefit him, Tate would stay alive. And maybe that would help guarantee her and Tanner’s safety as well.

  So, as Calvin led her through a maze of alleys and ancient warehouses, she held her tongue and prayed silently to the God she had ignored for far too many years. As if in answer to her prayer a ship cruising along its way on the Delaware River blasted its horn. Maybe Daddy was up there watching and would help God remember her. Maybe with a little divine intervention she and Tate would come out of this alive. She hesitated to admit it but at that moment she doubted it would take anything less.

  * * * * *

  Tate decided to call it quits for the day. It was much earlier than usual, but he had a sudden urge to see Tanner and make sure Faye hadn’t screwed anything up that day.

  Actually, he had a sudden urge to whisk Tanner away, show up on Marnie’s hotel doorstep and simply say “Okay.” He had no intention of doing it but it was an image that wasn’t so easily dispelled. It clung to him just as persistently as the images of the Bow River and Marnie’s house among the trees. How he longed to show those things to Tanner—to take him fishing and show him the muskrats and the loons, to show him the wonders of the mountains and set him on a horse for the first time.

  Tate might have regained his memories, he might have rediscovered his jaded, callused outlook on life, but he could still remember how fresh and exciting everything had felt before the memories returned. His first taste of ice cream, his first mountain sunset, the first time he had made love with Marnie—all the excitement and the thrill of each new discovery were still etched in his brain like fire in ice. He had tried to put those thoughts out of his mind, forget who he had been with her, but, like persistent ghosts, the images kept coming back.

  In his dreams and in the quiet moments when he was alone they seduced and cajoled him with their subtle fragrances and their searing colors. He couldn’t pretend to ignore them any longer. And now he wanted to share them with his son. He wanted to watch Tanner’s face and experience it all again through his eyes. He wanted to give Tanner something better. He’d seen enough ugliness. Perhaps it was time to accept the beauty.

  Tate stopped to give Susan a few final instructions to pass along to the next shift of waitresses and was just about to head out the door when he sensed a presence behind him.

  He didn’t even have to turn around. Somehow he just knew. “Hi, Pete.” He turned around. “How’s the—” The expression on Pete’s face made Tate’s heart skip a beat. “
What? What is it?”

  “Can we talk in your office?”

  “I never allow cops in my office without a warrant. You know that.” He knew a brief, smug satisfaction that that particular warrant had never been obtainable because they had never had probable cause.

  “Cut the crap, Tate. This is important. We need to see you now!”

  Tate didn’t hesitate. For once in his life he didn’t care if Pete saw the real ledgers or the detailed lists that he kept. “All right.” He motioned for them to follow and led them quickly back to his office. He unlocked it and the threesome slipped inside and away from the noise and the smoke. He locked it behind them and rounded on Pete. “Okay, what’s this about?”

  “It’s Calvin. He’s back.”

  Tate noticed that Kyle, the young sidekick with the sling, hovered in the background. He looked particularly young tonight, for some reason. Or maybe Tate was just getting old. “Yeah? Well, that’s great, isn’t it? That’s what we wanted. Where did you nab him?”

  “We didn’t.”

  Tate was confused. “Well, I haven’t seen him, and the only other person he was likely to approach was Faye. Is he with her somewhere now? Is she okay?” To his own amazement he felt a tiny twinge of worry for his wayward wife. Calvin was a dangerous element, and he knew Calvin was bound to be a tad upset with her for turning on him like that. He didn’t envy her what might happen if Calvin got his hands on her. But she was being watched, much like Tate himself. She was fine.

  “Actually, we’re not sure.”

  Tate fell silent at the ominous note in Pete’s voice.

  “She’s gone.”

  “Gone? What do you mean? Your guys were supposed to be guarding her. And how do you know she didn’t just skip out on them?”

  “Because the officers were murdered. They were both shot in the head. We found them in their cruiser.”

  “Christ.” Tate sank down onto the edge of his desk. “Jesus, if I had known what he was capable of…”

  “I’m afraid that’s not all.”

  “What? What else could there be? If he took her…” Tate felt sick.

  Pete fidgeted with his holster and cast an uneasy glance at Kyle. “He didn’t take just her. Tanner’s gone too.”

  “What?” Tate’s world abruptly fell apart. It exploded into a million tiny pieces. “How could you let this happen?” He vaulted toward Pete and grabbed the hulking cop by the shirt. Somehow he managed to ram Pete against the wall. “You guys were supposed to look after them. That was the deal!”

  Pete let him rant and made no effort to defend himself or remove Tate’s hands. “We did our best,” he said evenly.

  “Well, it wasn’t good enough, was it?” Tate’s heart felt like it would burst from his chest any moment. “Damn you! If anything happens to Tanner, I swear—”

  “What? That you’ll kill me? Like you were going to do Faye?”

  Stunned, Tate stared at him and slowly released Pete’s shirt from his viselike grip. “What are you talking about?”

  “That was the plan, wasn’t it? You wanted to be close to Faye so you could exact vengeance on her for shooting you and beating on you.”

  Tate sank back onto his desk. He wasn’t prepared for this. First Pete drops the bomb that his son has just been abducted and then this? He didn’t know how much longer he could hold together. Tanner in Calvin’s hands? Jesus Christ! He wanted to tear that man limb from limb and feed him to the vultures.

  “Isn’t it?” persisted Pete.

  “Isn’t it what?” Tate couldn’t focus on anything but Tanner.

  “True. Weren’t you planning on killing Faye?”

  “Yes, Goddammit!” Pete looked surprised by the blatant admission but Tate didn’t want to take time for games. “That was the plan. But I changed my mind. I decided I couldn’t do that to my son. I just wanted her in prison and out of our lives.” Tate stood and approached Pete again. “Now can we cut this ‘what if’ crap? My son is in danger and I want to know what you’re doing about it!”

  Like a klaxon, the phone on Tate’s desk rang, cutting through the stillness in the room. Tate whirled around and grabbed the receiver. “What? I’m busy!”

  “Tate? It’s Don.”

  Don. Don? Who the hell was Don? Tate couldn’t think straight. But then it came to him. Marnie’s brother. “Don. Right. Sorry about that, but I really can’t—”

  “I was worried about Marnie. She never called me, and she’s not back yet. I just wanted to make sure she’s okay.”

  “She’s not back yet?” asked Tate stupidly. She had left more than an hour ago. She should have been back to the hotel within twenty minutes.

  “No. I figured she just got tied up with you, but I worry about her. Is she there?”

  Shit! Shit-shit-shit! “Can you hold on a second, Don?” Tate cast a worried glance at the detectives. He covered the mouthpiece and whispered. “Marnie. She’s…she’s missing. She didn’t make it back to the hotel yet. She left me an hour ago. You don’t think—”

  “Calvin?” Pete’s face had drained of color. “We better not take any chances. We better assume he’s got her. If he found out you care about her then she’s a potential target.”

  Tate just stared at him. He had gone numb from head to toe. Tanner and Marnie? They were possibly facing a similar fate to what Calvin had inflicted on him that day on the mountain? He felt Pete pry the receiver out of his hand. He watched Pete place the phone to his ear and assume control of the situation. Tate didn’t relinquish control easily—especially in his own club—but he couldn’t have stopped it if he had wanted to. He heard Pete speaking to Marnie’s brother.

  “Mr. Grant? This is Detective Gruber.”

  There was a lengthy pause before Pete interrupted. “We’ll send a car over to bring you down. Yes, Marnie’s missing, but we’ll explain it all when you get there.”

  Pete said goodbye and hung up the phone. He murmured something to Kyle that Tate didn’t quite catch, and Kyle immediately slipped from the office.

  “Come on, buddy,” urged Pete as he gently propelled Tate toward the door.

  Tate didn’t even question the sudden softness in Pete’s voice or the familiar reference. He let himself be led because he had no idea where to go or what to do. Where did you start? “What do we do now?”

  “We’ll set up shop at your house. We’re looking, but I have a feeling Calvin might try to contact you. He’ll know to either try here or at the house, and I’d rather this happen away from these crowds.”

  “Right. Okay.” That made sense. He followed Pete outside and slipped into the car when Pete opened the door. When the larger man got in behind the wheel, Tate added, “How did he find her? How…”

  Pete shrugged. “We may never know. But I do feel somewhat responsible. We considered the potential threat to her, but obviously we underestimated him.”

  Tate accepted that in silence as Pete turned the key in the ignition. The motor hummed. “Kyle will bring your pickup. You’re in no shape to drive.”

  Again, Tate nodded silent agreement, then suddenly blurted out, “I’ll do whatever it takes, you know.” He looked earnestly at Pete. “I mean it. If he wants me—if that’s what he’s after—I’ll do it. Gladly.” He paused and looked out the windshield into the gloomy night. “I just wanted you to know.”

  “I knew,” said Pete quietly. “Somehow…I already knew.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Marnie tugged on her bindings. The rough nylon rope had already rubbed her skin raw in several places. Her wrists and ankles ached. Her leg and back muscles had started to cramp up, thanks to her prolonged and awkward position on the floor. She was exhausted. She was hungry. And she had to pee. But she would have gladly taken on more discomfort if she could have eased the suffering she saw in the eyes of the little boy on the other side of the room.

  Tanner’s eyes were red and puffy from tears he hadn’t been able to wipe away. She had watched them flow despite his obv
ious efforts to contain them.

  She could see so much of Tate in him. His blue eyes held the same depth and intelligence. His build was lean and wiry, and no doubt destined to mimic his father’s. And from the set of his chin and the way he sat, perfectly still, warily watching his captor and the woman who had given birth to him, she knew that he possessed the same drive and determination. He was his father’s son, and Marnie hoped desperately that she would have the opportunity to someday get to know him better.

  His eyes met hers, and for the first time in more than three hours he didn’t look away. He held her gaze, his eyes level with a knowing beyond his years. Unexpectedly, he cocked his head to the side in a manner so much like his father that Marnie’s stomach clenched. “Does he love you?”

  She ignored the fact that they had been forbidden to talk. “Yes, I think he does.”

  “Shut up, I said!” shouted Calvin, who had been pacing the confines of the small, filthy apartment.

  Faye said nothing. She didn’t even blink.

  Tanner just looked at Marnie, his eyes unreadable. But, oddly enough, she found herself hoping for his approval.

  For the hundredth time Marnie’s eyes wandered over the bare room. She suspected this building was vacant and condemned because it was dirty and in disrepair. Some of the cabinets had been ripped out of the walls. The water seemed to be working and there was electricity, but other than that there was no sign that anyone lived here or had lived here recently. They were on the ground floor of a small three-story walk-up on the edge of the shipping yards where Calvin had ditched the incriminating cab.

  A faint nausea welled up in Marnie as she relived the death of the sweet old man with the graying temples. She watched Calvin out of the corner of her eye, and wondered again what brought a man to that kind of senseless violence. Perhaps the track marks on his arms and the unnatural fire in his eyes filled in one part of his puzzle, but that couldn’t be all. Or did all evil need a reason? Could he just be one of those who were evil for evil’s sake? Who killed for the pure pleasure of it? Even if he had a blighted past, could that possibly explain his actions? It certainly couldn’t excuse them.