The Night Monster_ A Novel of Suspense - James Swain [12]
“Is your partner in there?” I asked.
“Maybe,” he said.
I ripped the baseball cap from his head, and used it to slap him in the face. I couldn’t do that as a cop, but I wasn’t a cop anymore.
“Stop hitting me,” Mouse protested.
“Is he in there or not?”
“He’s in there.”
“Knock on the door. When he answers, tell him everything is okay, that you were just checking up on him.”
“Okay.”
Mouse rapped loudly on the door, then took a step back. I should have taken that as a warning that something bad was about to happen, but my adrenaline was pumping and I felt in control of the situation. From the other side of the door came a woman’s muffled scream. A smile crossed Mouse’s lips.
“What’s so funny?” I said.
“You’ll see,” he replied.
The door banged open, and I found myself staring at a huge man dressed in a black sweatshirt and black pants, his face covered by a ski mask. He was so big, he had to duck beneath the door frame as he came out. Even though I was holding a gun, his presence scared the daylights out of me, and I stepped back.
“Stop right there,” I said.
The giant stopped. Slung over his shoulder was a young woman wearing gray sweats. She lifted her head, and I saw that it was Sara Long, the top scorer on Jessie’s team. Sara’s mouth was taped shut, her wrists hog-tied with rope. Seeing me, she let out a muffled scream.
“Put her down,” I said.
The giant grunted something unintelligible under his breath.
“I mean business,” I said.
“She’s mine,” the giant said.
The giant patted the bottom of Sara’s behind. It was a strange gesture, almost affectionate, and I knew that he wasn’t going to comply.
Mouse shot his arm out, and grabbed my wrist. Considering his size, he was unusually strong. He twisted the Colt’s barrel so it pointed at the ground.
“Got him,” Mouse said.
The giant struck me in the head with his free hand. The blow felt like a baseball bat. My knees buckled, and the Colt fell from my hand.
Still holding Sara, the giant lifted me off the ground by my shirt, carried me across the lot, and slammed my head into the side of the team bus. The smart thing would have been to not fight back, but it wasn’t in my genes to quit.
I punched the giant in the face. The blow snapped his head, and his ski mask slipped off. He snarled at me like a dog.
“That was a no-no,” the giant said.
His face was round and childlike. It was the same crazy bastard who’d abducted Naomi Dunn from her apartment. After eighteen years of looking, I’d finally found him, and now he was about to abduct another young woman right out from under me.
It was my last thought just before I passed out.
CHAPTER 8
wo hospital visits on the same day was a record, even for me.
I awoke in a private room with uneven plaster walls and a window facing a parking lot filled with cars. It was starting to get light. I’d been unconscious all night.
I squeezed my fingers, and moved my arms and legs. Nothing felt broken, and I wasn’t wearing any casts, nor were there pulleys hanging from the ceiling above my bed. I just had a splitting headache, and my mouth tasted like dried blood.
“Hi, Daddy.”
Jessie sat beside my bed playing with my cell phone. Her cheeks were red and puffy. If I’d accomplished anything as a cop, it was shielding my family from my work, and it killed me to see her upset like this. She rose and kissed my cheek.
“How are you feeling?” she asked. “I got your cell phone to work.”
“I’ll live. What happened?”
“Someone threw you into the swamp behind the motel. You were lucky you didn’t drown. Coach Daniels pulled you out and gave you CPR.”
“Coach Daniels is kind of cute, isn’t she?”
“Daddy!”
“I need some water. My throat is killing me.”
Jessie filled a plastic cup from a jug sitting on the nightstand. I took it away from her and sucked it down.
“You were in pain, so the doctor gave you a sedative,” she said. “He said the only reason your skull wasn’t broken is because you have a thick head.”
I found the strength to laugh.
“Have you talked to your mother?” I asked.
“I called