Hell or High Water

HELL OR HIGH WATER

By Jerrie Alexander

COPYRIGHT 2013 by Jerrie Alexander

Published by: Jerrie Alexander

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
 

Cover Art by: Meredith Blair © Author’s Angels
www.AuthorsAngels.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and the resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
 

Chapter 1

The desire to surrender, to slip into a painless, deep sleep tugged hard at Kay Taylor. A voice inside her head warned not to sink into the beckoning void. Danger lurked in the darkness.
 

She forced her eyes open.

A thin stream of light shone through a slightly ajar door. Kay blinked in hopes of clearing her blurred vision. The slight movement set off an explosion inside her head. She bit back the scream gurgling up the back of her throat. My God. Her wrists were bound.

Her thoughts splintered. She remembered walking across her apartment’s parking lot. Someone had attacked her from behind.
 

Why? Where was she? The empty room with its pale, windowless walls and cool cement floor provided no answers. She pushed up on one elbow. A wave of nausea forced her to lie back down. Pain surged over her right ear. Her stomach roiled at the acrid scent of blood.

Her blood.

Cool air chilled her midriff. That her blouse was torn sent a new tremor through her. Her shoes were gone, but her slacks were intact and still zipped. Relief washed over her.

She ignored the white-hot headache and pushed her churning, queasy stomach from her mind. Panic simmered just under the surface, waiting to claw to the outside. This was the time to make smart decisions. Survival took precedence.

Her feet weren’t bound, so she maneuvered herself to a sitting position against the wall. The movement brought another round of explosions in her head. Voices from outside the room seemed to move closer. Kay’s skin crawled. Beads of sweat formed above her lips. She hurriedly raised her wrists to her mouth and tore at the tape with her teeth.
 

“I don’t get it. Why’d we take her?” a deep gravelly voice asked.

Kay’s fight-or-flight response launched to hyper-drive. Her heart pounded against her rib cage, and her feet demanded she run.
 

“We’re not paid to ‘get it.’ Boss said snatch her. He’s got some questions for her. You better hope you didn’t hit that woman too hard.” The second voice sounded closer.
 

“I didn’t hurt the bitch. I tapped her upside the head to stop her from fighting.”
 

“And ripped her clothes,” Gravelly Voice commented.

“Just checking out the merchandise.” The man’s chuckle sent Kay into a full-body shiver. A jolt of adrenaline flooded her system. The voices got louder, which meant her kidnappers were coming closer.

The last of the tape ripped, freeing her hands.
 

She’d heard all the horror stories about women being kidnapped and raped. No way. She wouldn’t let that happen without one hell of a fight.
 

Nothing good came from waiting for evil to come to you. Kay pulled her legs under her, and after a couple of tries, pushed herself to her feet. She braced against the wall for a second to gather strength. Blanking out the rockets going off in her brain, she widened her stance, prepared to kick the first person to enter the room.
 

The sound of the voices peaked then faded. Had they passed by?

Issuing a silent prayer, she inched down the wall toward the slightly open door. She sidestepped closer, straining to listen. A male voice shouted, threatening consequences if the woman was dead. Was he talking about her?
 

Escape was now or never. With her captors’ attention elsewhere, Kay stepped through the opening then headed toward a red exit light in the opposite direction of the voices.

She braced her hands against an outside door. Decision time. If the alarm was armed, sirens would blast the second she pressed the bar. A dry swallow, and then she wrapped her fingers around the cool, hard metal. She pushed slowly, relief washing over her when the only sound was the snick of the lock opening. She stepped out into the night. Her sweaty skin chilled in the warm air.
 

Too soon to celebrate freedom. She put one foot in front of the other and kept moving.

A few overhead lights illuminated the area. Smells of gasoline and exhaust fumes assaulted her senses. She’d exited into a parking lot full of tractor-trailer rigs with Texas license plates. At least they hadn’t taken her across state lines, or worse, the Mexican border.

Kay ran toward a chain-link fence. She darted behind a row of parked trailers. Her breath came in gasps, and her lungs burned like a wildfire raging out of control. Sweat dripped down her back. She couldn’t give in to the pain. This might be her one shot at freedom.
 

Her bare feet slapped against the pavement, echoing through the darkness. Kay stumbled on a loose piece of asphalt and had to wave her arms to regain her balance. She swiped a hand over her eyes as if she could wipe away her blurred vision. Her injury was more serious than she’d hoped. She needed help. Soon. Very soon.
 

Voices from behind drifted through the night air. The gravelly voice seemed to be getting closer. She fought the urge to look over her shoulder.
 

“Run faster,” she whispered the brave words, hoping to counteract the icy fingers wrapped around her spine, chilling her bones. Her thoughts grew fuzzy. She had to stay focused.
 

At the end of the fence line, she spotted a long building with floodlights blazing. Thank God. The warehouse had hundreds of trailers lined up like sentries outside unloading docks. Somebody was working a late shift. Could she reach the structure without exposing herself to the voices chasing her? Help was within reach. If she hid in the shadows, she might get across the street into the industrial park undetected. She pulled in a deep breath, and used her last burst of energy.
 

Black dots formed in front of her eyes. Again, she shook her head, holding back the dark tunnel closing off her vision.
 

A loud buzzer sounded, ratcheting her heart rate higher. Seconds later, giant overhead doors opened. One after another, they went up, flooding the area with more light. Life saving light. Workers would be there to unload freight at any moment. She stayed pressed to the wall and crept to where two men stood with their backs to her. They were just inside the building.
 

“Help,” she called out, but the darkness pulled at her.
 

Her legs buckled, unable to support her any longer. Strong hands grabbed her arms from behind. She struggled to stay out of the black hole.
 

A losing battle.
 

****

“You think she’s dead?” A warm breath brushed across Kay’s cheek.

Half asleep and drowsy, Kay didn’t have to open her eyes to recognize the voice. The aroma of stale coffee and donuts reminded her of days spent in the patrol car. Another odor weighed in stronger. Sterile. Bleach?

“Nah. She’s got too much color in her cheeks. The dried spittle is a giveaway. Dead people don’t drool.”

She wiped her mouth in case Tomas wasn’t lying and opened her eyes to find herself flanked by her two favorite detectives.
 

Memories slammed into Kay with the force of a tsunami, snapping her wide awake. She mouth moved but no sound came out.

“Take it easy. You’re safe.” Wayne’s slow drawl eased her tension.

She scanned her stark, white surroundings. The medicinal scent seemed to grow stronger, and she recognized her room as being in the Dallas Memorial Hospital.

Dallas Police Department detectives Tomas Mendez and Wayne Kern dragged chairs close to her bed then stretched their legs out in front of them. They appeared to be staying. She was glad the chief of police had sent these two men. In the past, the three of them had investigated and resolved some serious child-abuse cases. The expressions on their faces made her tense.
 

“How and when did I get here?”

“Almost forty-eight hours. Warehouse foreman called 911,” a solemn-faced Wayne spoke. “The report of your attack made it back to the chief. He assigned the case to us.”

“I’m glad. Either of you talk with my doctor?”

“We did. He assured us your injuries aren’t serious.”

Kay tried to wet her lips and failed. She spotted the water jug next to a brochure advertising the hospital. “Good to know.” Her voice cracked.

“You’ve been mumbling,” Wayne continued. “We couldn’t make out many words. But kidnap came through loud and clear. Any idea why somebody would snatch you?”

“None.” The safety of Dallas Memorial didn’t stop the shiver of fear racing through her system.

Her mother stepped into the room followed closely by Kay’s best friend, Holly. Their wrinkled clothes and disheveled appearance tugged at Kay’s heart. The frowns on their faces and circles under their eyes indicated neither had slept last night.

“I knew we shouldn’t have gone for coffee.” Kay’s mother rushed to her side.

“Have you met my mother, Beth Taylor, and my friend, Holly Hoffman?” Kay didn’t ask about her father. He wasn’t coming.
 

“Sure did,” Wayne said. “They’re welcome to stay while we talk. If that’s okay with you.”

“More than okay.” She clung to her mother’s hand.

“Mind if I record our conversation?” Wayne’s red hair and freckles gave his features a boyish quality. Probably fifty, he looked closer to thirty.

“Not at all.”
 

He placed a small recorder on the roll-around table and glanced over at Tomas. His nod was barely noticeable.

 
Her mother held a straw to Kay’s lips, and she drew the cool water into her mouth, letting it soothe her parched throat. As always, Mom knew what Kay needed.

“Thanks. You guys look like you’re at a funeral.” Kay mustered a smile for the small group. “You said I’m fine.”

“And you are,” Tomas agreed. “We’re more concerned about what brought you here. Any pissed-off parents mad enough at you to seek revenge?”

Kay’s brain filtered through her last few cases. In the past, she’d dealt with lots of unhappy moms and dads. In her line of work as investigator for Dallas Child Protective Services, the kids’ needs and welfare were her focus.
 

“Nothing lately. Most of my attention has been on working the Vaughn abduction with you two.”

“You visited Leann Vaughn in this hospital yesterday, right?” Wayne asked.

“I did. How’d you know?”

Wayne raised one eyebrow. “Well, your name is on the card. What time did you leave the girl’s room?”

“I don’t remember exactly.” Kay reached into her memory again. “They’d just delivered her dinner tray. Why?”

“A nurse discovered her dead shortly after you left. Slashed her left wrist deep enough to bleed out pretty quick.”

“No.” Kay bolted upright. The sudden burst of lightning in her head and the surge of nausea sent her right back down to her pillow. “It’s not true.”

“The girl had the weapon in her right hand. You know as well as I, suicides rarely cut both wrists. Any idea how Leann might’ve gotten her hands on a knife?” Wayne was in full-out cop mode.
 

“No. You don’t think I gave something that dangerous to a teenager. Do you?” Kay glared at Wayne.

“Of course not. Leann mention any other visitors?”

“Only that I’d just missed her mother. And no way was Leann suicidal yesterday.”

“The autopsy will tell us more. What do you remember about your conversation?”