Fatal Exposure (17 page)

He ducked behind a tree, thinking hard. Brynn stood close behind him, her breath rasping in his ear. There were two log cabins and a toolshed, similar to the one at Hoffman’s house. The lights were on in both.

He checked his watch. Within minutes Terry Lewis would be arriving at the farmhouse. But there’d been no way to leave a note, no way to tell her where they’d gone. For now they were on their own.

He tucked the flashlight into his pocket and pulled out his sidearm. “Stay behind me,” he murmured. Then he led the way toward the nearest cabin, the faint glow flickering through the window guiding the way. He ducked below the window, waited for Brynn to join him, then rose and peeked inside. He scanned the bunk beds along the wall, the dresser and corner desk. The computer on top of the desk was on, its soft glow illuminating the room. But Hoffman was nowhere in sight.

“Wait here.” His nerves stretched tight, he climbed the steps to the door. Then he nudged it open and stepped inside. No one was there. He went to the desk and searched the drawers, unearthing a pedophile’s treasure trove—computer disks, photos of naked children, magazines. In the bottom desk drawer was a cache of necklaces, all bearing that hand-engraved heart design.

They’d found their proof—enough to put Hoffman away for good. But they had to find him first.

He forced in a calming breath, the need to exact vengeance riding him hard. Then he hurried through the door and rounded the building.

But Brynn was gone.

Chapter 15

P
arker stood stock-still in the cabin’s shadows, shutting down every thought but one. Hoffman had taken Brynn hostage.

He had to save the woman he loved.

He shifted deeper into the shadows, careful not to make any sound. Then he stopped behind a tree and listened intently, struggling to hear above the stark fear bludgeoning his skull. Tree branches creaked overhead. A night creature cried in the distance, the wild sound scraping his nerves. The frigid wind gusted, howling through a crack in the wooden shed, while bushes frothed in the pulsing night.

It was too quiet. Too tense. Locking his gaze on the second cabin, Parker battled the need billowing inside him to burst through that door in a frenzy and rescue Brynn. But he couldn’t afford to make a mistake. He had to stay cool and think this through—or Brynn would pay with her life.

He melted farther into the darkness, every sense attuned to the slightest sounds. He skirted a rotting woodpile, crept to the small shed standing between the cabins and peered inside. Empty, just as he’d expected.

Only one place left.

He merged back into the forest, taking a circuitous path through the trees. Twigs crackled underfoot. The brisk wind blew again, raising goose bumps along his spine while ice congealed in his heart. Something had tipped Hoffman off. Did he have a scanner inside the cabin? Had his wife somehow seen them at the house and contacted him? Was he aware that even now police were converging on the camp, preparing to bring him down?

If so, he’d be desperate, even more dangerous, which didn’t bode well for Brynn.

Dread making his heart thud, Parker neared the cabin and stopped. He took a deep pull of air, struggling to think through the overload of adrenaline blurring his mind, and snuck a peek at his watch. The police should have reached the farmhouse by now. Local law enforcement would take the lead, coordinating the SWAT and HRT teams as they searched the camp. Given Hoffman’s rank, Lieutenant Lewis would be on scene, along with various department bigwigs—the deputy commissioner, a PR representative, the head of internal affairs.

But none of that was going to help Parker. No one knew about these old cabins. No one knew where he’d gone.

But he couldn’t do this alone. He needed a hostage negotiator to make contact with Hoffman. He needed an expert to convince him to surrender without harming Brynn or that runaway kid. At the very least he needed their stun grenades to get inside that cabin. The blinding light and noise would disorient Hoffman, incapacitating him long enough to free the captives and bring him in.

A whimper cut through the night. Parker’s heart stuttered hard, then took off in a rush.
Brynn.
He clenched his hands, shaking with the need to save her, to forget every bit of training he’d ever had and barge through that cabin door.

But he had to resist. Too much could go lethally wrong. And it could be a ploy, a trick to lure him into a trap. He had to keep his head, sit tight and hope to God those teams figured out where he’d gone—and arrived in time.

Then another wild cry split the night.

To hell with it.
Trap or not, he couldn’t stand by and let Hoffman torture Brynn. By the time the hostage rescue team discovered their whereabouts, she could be dead.

He darted across the clearing to the cabin, then crouched beneath the bushes beside the door. The windows were boarded up. A sliver of light peeked through the cracks, but he couldn’t see inside.

He drew in a breath, trying to think this through. No matter how desperately he wanted to save her, he couldn’t rush in blind. He had to locate everyone’s position in the cabin first.

Figuring Hoffman would monitor the door and windows, Parker worked his way around the perimeter of the cabin, searching for another way in. Then a piece of wooden lattice covering the crawl space caught his eye. He ripped it off and set it aside, then shimmied through the opening. Turning on his flashlight, he belly-crawled through the dirt and weeds, hoping he’d get lucky and the cabin would have a trapdoor to drain the pipes. He finally spotted it several feet away, draped with spiderwebs.

Positioning himself beneath it, he waited a beat, but no sounds came through the floor. Why was it so quiet? What was Hoffman doing in there?

Not wanting to imagine the answer, he tested the door, but it didn’t budge. Putting more force behind it, he pushed again.
Locked.
Hoffman had secured it from the other side.

Swearing, he crawled back out. Aware that time was fading quickly, he ran through his options again. He could discharge his weapon to alert the cops. That would bring them to the area fast. But it could also cause Hoffman to panic and kill his captives—a disaster he had to avoid. Parker could surrender to Hoffman in order to get inside, then hope to fight it out. But he’d save that as a last resort.

Deciding to try the windows, he crept to the back of the cabin again, tugging on the plywood for signs of give. He finally came across a loose board and pried it up, far enough to peek inside.

It led to the back bedroom. He made out a dresser and chair and in the corner a narrow bed—with a small figure huddled on top. His heart missed a beat.
The runaway girl.
That put Hoffman and Brynn in the living room.

His mind racing, he lowered the board. Hoffman needed this child for leverage. If Parker snuck inside and released her, he took away Hoffman’s bargaining chip.

He would also remove Hoffman’s only reason to use restraint. Once he realized he couldn’t escape, Hoffman could decide to retaliate—on Brynn.

But Parker couldn’t leave that child inside. The risks were far too high. He had to free her while he had the chance—and then try to neutralize Hoffman before he could murder Brynn.

His heart beating even faster, he pulled on the plywood again. It creaked, and Parker cringed, hoping Hoffman hadn’t heard the noise. But he was committed now.

Working quickly, he yanked the final nail loose and tossed the board aside. Then he braced his hands on the sill and heaved himself over the ledge. The girl whimpered and shrank back against the wall.

“Shh. I’m a cop. I’m here to help you.” He strode across the room, but the sight of her small hands tied to the bed frame nearly razed his self-control. Not wanting to spook her, he knelt on the floor beside the bed. “I’m going to untie your hands, okay? And then I’m going to lower you out the window. I want you to run into the woods—not too far—and hide until the police get here. Do you understand?”

Her eyes were huge, but she managed to nod, and his admiration rose. Even badly traumatized, she was a fighter.

Like Brynn.

He shut down that thought fast, needing to focus on freeing this child. “Okay, I’m going to untie your hands now. Don’t be afraid.” She flinched as he reached for the rope, but didn’t make another sound. He quickly worked the knots loose, mentally cursing when he saw her wrists. The bastard had tied her so tightly that her skin was raw.

Suddenly footsteps sounded in the other room. Tensing, Parker reached for his gun, his gaze locked on the bedroom door. But then the footsteps retreated, and he eased out his breath.

With no time to waste now, he undid the final knot and rose. He started to help her stand but stopped when she jerked away. Instead, he stripped off his leather jacket and held it out. “Here, put this on. It’s cold out there.

“I’m going to lower you out the window,” he continued as she shrugged his jacket on.

“Okay,” she whispered, still trembling.

He crossed the room to the window and held out his hands. “Ready?”

She grabbed his hands, and more respect for her swelled inside. He could only imagine how much it cost her to trust a man right now. He lifted her over the sill, releasing her when she reached the ground. She stumbled, but regained her balance and darted into the woods.

One down.

Drawing his weapon, he turned around. But the wind gusted again, blowing through the open window and knocking papers off the dresser beside the door. Parker lunged forward to grab them, but something plastic clattered to the floor.

Oh, hell.
He leaped toward the wall, intending to hide behind the door. But the door crashed open and the overhead light flicked on. Hoffman stood in the doorway, holding Brynn in front of him like a shield, his gun wedged under her jaw.

Parker’s world spun away at the sight of the gun pressed to her fragile throat. He took in her terror-glazed eyes, the dark bruise puffing her cheek. She was trembling so violently he could detect it from across the room.

A frantic feeling took hold inside him. He met his boss’s glittering eyes—the eyes of a man teetering on the edge of control—and his hopes plummeted even more.

His worst fear had just come true.

Hoffman knew that the kid was gone. He knew that he’d been exposed. He had no chance to escape arrest, no reason to stay alive.

In seconds they’d all be dead.

“Put down your gun,” Hoffman ordered.

“Don’t do it,” Brynn cried. “Don’t—” She gasped, her body stiffening as the gun dug into her neck.

“Right now,” Hoffman said.

Parker’s palms turned slick. He lowered the gun slightly, struggling to think. Brynn knew how to fight. She’d nearly bested him in the alley the night they’d met. And Hoffman was older, fatter, slower. If Parker could give her an opening, she could break free.

But he had to be careful. Hoffman barely had a grip on his nerves. If Parker blundered, he’d snap.

“All right,” Parker said. “I’ll put it down. But you owe me some answers first.”

“Answers?” Hoffman scoffed. “About what?”

“Tommy. How you killed him.”

Hoffman blinked. “I didn’t kill him.”

“The hell you didn’t. You executed that guy in the warehouse. You went after Brynn, then killed Tommy when he got in your way. You were there with that gang, the City of the Dead.”

Incredulity crossed Hoffman’s face. “You’re nuts. I wasn’t there. I had nothing to do with that.”

Parker frowned, doubts worming through his anger, but he shook them off. The evidence pointed to his boss. “And when those photos showed up in Homicide, you destroyed them to cover your tracks.”

“You’re crazy. I’ve never killed anyone in my life.”

Until now.

The unspoken words hung between them. Parker’s gaze connected with Brynn’s, the desperation in her eyes wrenching his heart. And it took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to rush over and grab her away. But he’d never make it. She’d be dead before he went two feet.

“You killed Erin Walker,” he pointed out.

“Erin?” Hoffman’s indignation rose. “I did not. I wasn’t anywhere near her when she died.”

“You brought her here that night. You gave her drugs.”

“She wanted to come. But then she went berserk. It had nothing to do with me.”

“You abused her.”

“That’s a lie. I never hurt her. We were friends. She liked what I did.”

Parker realized that he believed that. In his sick, twisted mind he hadn’t harmed that child.

But what about Tommy? Was Hoffman telling the truth about that? He definitely molested children. There was enough evidence in these cabins to convict him, even if that girl didn’t testify. But had he killed Tommy? Or was Delgado responsible for that?

Parker shook away the thought. He’d sort that out later. Right now he had to save Brynn.

But Hoffman tightened his grip on her throat, causing her to wheeze for breath.

And Parker knew with a sinking feeling that he’d run out of time.

“Put down your gun,” Hoffman said. “Right now, or she’s dead.”

Not seeing an option, Parker bent over and set his gun on the wooden floor.

“Kick it over here.”

Parker sent it skidding across the floor. It came to a stop several feet from Brynn. She rolled her eyes sideways, and he knew she was calculating the distance, trying to figure out a way to get that gun. But she needed him to create a diversion first.

“That’s better.” A triumphant smile slashed Hoffman’s face. “You always did obey orders.”

Like a fool. “I trusted you. I thought you were an honest man. But you used me for your own sick ends.”

“I only wanted you to bring her in. That’s all. I tried to warn you about her. I said she’d manipulate you. But you didn’t listen...and now I don’t have a choice.”

Brynn went still. Her gaze snapped to his, the shock over his betrayal edging out her fear. Parker’s stomach took a sudden dive. “It’s not what you think,” he told her.

“You lied to me.” The pain in her voice ripped through his heart.

He couldn’t deny it. Any attempt to justify his behavior would only seem like a lame excuse. But he
had
intended to tell her; he’d just wanted to do it at a better time, when he could explain how his opinion of her had changed, how he admired her, cared for her.

How he loved her.

But he’d waited too long. And now that she’d learned the truth from Hoffman, she’d never believe him again.

Their eyes remained locked. And suddenly he knew what he had to do. He had to prove that he hadn’t betrayed her. He had to give her a chance to survive.

He lunged toward his boss. Hoffman swiveled his gun his way.

And fired.

* * *

Brynn screamed. She stared at Parker aghast as he staggered another step forward, then stopped and slumped to the floor. He’d just forfeited his life to save her. He was giving her a chance to get free. But she refused to leave him at this madman’s mercy, no matter how much his betrayal stung.

Jerking herself into action, she shoved away from Hoffman and whipped around. Then she slammed her foot behind his knee, causing him to fall down.

But he wouldn’t stay down for long.

She dove for Parker’s gun, managing to wrap her hands around it just as another shot rang out, the earsplitting bang reverberating through her skull. She rolled over and swung around, feeling as if time had slowed to a standstill, and squeezed off a shot. Hoffman dove behind a chair.

Scrambling to her feet, she glanced at Parker. He lay facedown on the floor, blood pooling around him, groaning with pain. Desperation drummed inside her. She had to help him. She had to stanch the bleeding and rush him to the hospital before he died.