Chapter 6
Z
I ducked beneath the heavy arc of the steel pipe, the iron whistling inches over my ear, and slammed my shoulder directly into the enforcer's ribs. The collision threw us both across the room, crashing through a glass coffee table and sending magazines and shattered glass flying across the carpeted floor.
The second enforcer drew a compact handgun, pointing it straight at Rebecca. “Drop the flash drive, lady, or I put a hole through your head!”
Rebecca didn't flinch. She snatched the flash drive from the USB port, pulled a heavy brass desk lamp off Dr. Vance’s desk, and swung it with all her strength into the side of the armed enforcer's face. The heavy metal base hit his cheekbone with a brutal, hollow crack. The man groaned, staggering backward into the bookshelf as his pistol clattered to the floor.
I scrambled off the carpet, grabbed the fallen pipe, and swept it across the ankles of the first enforcer who was trying to rise. He went down hard, his head striking the edge of the mahogany desk with a sickening thud, knocking him instantly unconscious.
Dr. Vance backed toward the hallway door, his hands raised in pure terror. “Please! Don't kill me! Varga forced me to sign those papers! He threatened to ruin my practice!”
I seized Dr. Vance by the collar of his pristine coat, slammed him back against the wall, and thrust the barrel of my Glock under his chin. “You traded my daughter’s safety to keep your dirty money clean! You signed a fake paper that let a convicted kidnapper walk free!”
“I’ll testify!” Dr. Vance sobbed, tears spilling down his cheeks. “I’ll tell the prosecutor everything! Just don't shoot me!”
“You’re damn right you’ll testify,” I growled into his ear.
I grabbed a pair of flex-cuffs from my security belt, strapped Dr. Vance’s hands securely behind his back, and pushed him toward Rebecca. “Get him out through the service elevator in the back. Take him straight to the state prosecutor’s office in Knox County. Davidson County is compromised—Judge Vance has too many friends here.”
“What about you?” Rebecca asked, her face smeared with soot and sweat, but her eyes burning with fiery determination. “Where are you going?”
“Evan and Varga don't know we have Vance yet,” I said, picking up my weapon and checking the magazine. “They think they still have nine days to force Claire into signing over her money. They’re going to go to her house tonight to look for her.”
“Daniel, you can't go to Claire’s house alone,” Rebecca pleaded. “Internal Affairs has officers watching the perimeter of your old house and hers!”
“They’re watching the front door,” I said coldly. “They aren't watching the woods behind it. And that’s where I’m going to end this.”
Ten minutes later, Rebecca was speeding away down the back alley in her sedan with Dr. Vance locked in the front passenger seat. I slipped into the shadows, hijacked an abandoned construction pickup truck from a nearby utility yard, and headed south toward Franklin.
By 4:00 AM, heavy rain was pouring over Middle Tennessee. Thunder rattled the sky, masking the sound of the pickup engine as I coasted to a stop half a mile from Claire’s home. I stepped out into the downpour, letting the cold water soak through my clothes, cooling the burning rage inside my chest.
I moved through the dense forest bordering the back of Claire’s property, stepping silently over wet leaves and fallen branches. Ahead, through the thick curtain of rain, I could see her dark craftsman home.
Two black vehicles were parked in her driveway—not police cars, but Varga’s SUVs.
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Through the large bay window of the living room, I could see shadows moving inside. Someone was inside Claire’s home, tearing her life apart for the second time.
I unholstered my gun, checked the chamber, and moved quietly onto the back porch.
