He deserved to hear the words from her, even if her self-protective behavior tonight had convinced him he was better off finding someone less…loco. She pulled her phone from her purse and started to dial his number. Rats, she’d turned it off before her first class today and never turned it back on. She did so now and watched as two new voice mail messages appeared in the display. She already knew one was from Stacy. The other was from Trevor’s number, received less than ten minutes ago. He’d also sent her a text… Urgent. Call me.
Just then, someone knocked on her half-lowered driver’s side window. She let out a little yelp, turned, and then sagged with relief. “Holy smokes, you scared me.” Relief quickly turned to curiosity. “What are you doing here?”
…
Trevor violated just about every single provision of the vehicular code as he sped toward Kylie’s apartment, including the law requiring the use of hands-free devices when making calls. After failing to reach Kylie by phone or text, he dialed Ian’s cell.
Ian picked up on the third ring, his “What’s up?” tired, but deeply satisfied. Trevor didn’t need any additional clues to know his partner’s exact location. Obviously Ian was still with Stacy.
“It’s Benny,” he bit out, cutting to the chase as he made a sharp right onto Sunset.
He actually heard the bedsprings squeak when Ian sat up. “Holy shit. How do you know?”
“I got a reply on a check I made with a past employer of his—a strip club back in Boston. Look, I’ll give you the details when I see you. You’re at Stacy’s?”
“Yes, but—”
“I’m on my way. Is Kylie there?”
“No. I kind of figured she was with you.”
“She was, but she should be home by now.” He couldn’t keep the worry out of his voice.
“Hold on. Let me double-check she didn’t slip in while we were otherwise occupied…”
Trevor held, listening while Ian mumbled something to Stacy. He heard the bedsprings squeak again as Ian stood, heard the jangle of a belt, heard the thump of Stacy’s cast on hardwood as they both searched the apartment. Finally, Ian said, “Nope. She’s not here—”
Stacy’s scream cut him off. Trevor’s blood froze as he heard her cry, “Oh, my God. He’s got her. He’s got Kylie. Hurry, Ian, he’s getting away!”
Trevor hit speaker and dropped the phone onto the console between the seats. Then he grabbed the wheel with both hands to make a right off Sunset at top speed without losing control of the Yukon. “Talk to me, Ian,” he called over squealing tires.
“Shit. Benny’s backing out of the driveway right now, driving a dark blue or black older-mo
del BMW 7 Series. Heading south,” he panted, clearly running. “Stacy saw him put Kylie in the backseat. Says she was unconscious.”
Ian’s careful wording wasn’t lost on him. Unconscious, or…? His mind refused to finish the thought. Benny’s kink involved protecting her, not killing her. He had to stake his faith on that. He held his tongue while Ian yelled to Stacy, instructing her to contact dispatch and call the situation in.
“I’m going to blow by you in half a minute.”
“I’ll be right behind you,” Ian replied, and Trevor heard the sound of an engine roaring to life.
He caught a glimpse of taillights heading right at the next cross street and braked just hard enough to skid through the turn. “I see him. We’re going west. Can you cut him off? Force him into one of these alleys?”
“Yeah. I’m parallel to you right now. How fast?”
He glanced at the speedometer. “Pushing ninety.”
“Okay. I’ll cut over in three intersections, which should give him enough reaction time. I don’t want him T-boning me at ninety miles an hour. Kylie’ll go flying.”
“I know. Just slow him down. I’m calling for backup—shit…”
That was all he had time for. Up ahead, a pickup truck entered the intersection from a cross street. Benny braked hard and swerved. The smell of burning rubber assailed Trevor’s nostrils as he followed suit, turning even more sharply. He let up on the brake and drifted to avoid slamming into the Beemer. The sedan skidded up the curb and came to rest with the front tires on the sidewalk.
Trevor tumbled out of the Yukon at a dead run, gun drawn. He caught sight of Ian’s Highlander screeching to a stop in the middle of the intersection, but didn’t slow down.
Gripping the gun with both hands, he approached Benny’s car. “On the ground,” he yelled when the driver’s side door sprang open. Benny stumbled out, hands in the air, and immediately sank to his knees. At the same time, an army of black-and-whites arrived, sirens wailing.
Ian rushed around the front of the car and closed in from the other side. “I got him,” he said once he had his gun pointed at Benny’s head.