Chapter Seven
Alena sat frozen, the sound of Melissa’s voice still ringing in her ears. Escaped. The word rattled around her head, but doubt pushed against it.
Lots and lots of doubt.
Maybe Melissa had indeed gotten away and this call was legit. Maybe. But after everything they’d dug up about her spite campaign against Dexter, Alena couldn’t quiet the questions.
Questions she hated.
Because no matter what Melissa had done, Alena could still see the woman in her mind, a gun pressed to her temple, Dexter’s face twisted in rage.
“Melissa, where are you?” Cal asked, the urgency—and yes, some doubt—in his tone.
“I’m at the back of an abandoned strip mall in Blanco,” Melissa blurted.
Her voice cracked, raw with fear. “Two men were holding me there. They wore ski masks. I thought one of them was Dexter, but when they started fighting, I heard their voices. I didn’t recognize either of them.
They dropped the phone in the struggle, and I grabbed it before I slipped out the back. ”
Alena’s chest tightened. Two masked men. Not Dexter? The story felt thin, full of gaps, yet Melissa’s panic didn’t sound rehearsed. Alena couldn’t decide what to believe, only that every second mattered.
“Please, you have to come,” Melissa begged. “I don’t trust the cops. I only trust you.”
A sharp sound slipped through the line, a gasp edged with fear. “They’re looking for me,” she whispered. “I can hear them. Please, come now.”
The call cut off before Cal could answer.
He swore under his breath and met Alena’s gaze. “Damn it.”
“We have to go,” she said quickly. “We don’t have a choice.”
Her hands flew over the laptop, pulling up a map until she found the spot. “Abandoned strip mall, Blanco.” She plugged the address into the GPS. “We’re fifteen minutes out.”
Cal swung the SUV into a hard turn, tires humming against the road as he aimed them toward Blanco. Alena braced herself against the seat, her heart pounding with the same thought beating in Cal’s eyes. This could be a trap.
No doubts about that.
But they also had no doubts about responding. If there was even a slim chance that Melissa was in trouble, they had to try to help her.
While Cal put Raines on speaker and gave him the rundown, Alena opened her laptop again and pulled up anything she could find on the strip mall. It didn’t take long to find what she was certain was the right place.
The strip mall had been boarded up for years, but the last crew to work there had been Arneson’s. Her mouth tightened as she scrolled further. Dexter had done side jobs for his brother back then. That’s how he could’ve known about the place.
By the time Cal ended the call with Raines, Alena already had the screen turned toward him. “This was one of Arneson’s projects. Dexter probably knew every inch of it.”
Cal cursed under his breath. “And if Melissa’s right, he hired the two men holding her.”
“Maybe,” Alena said. She shook her head, the words tasting like ash. “I don’t know. It could fit, but…”
“But it could also be a ploy,” Cal finished. His voice was low, tight, and filled with as much doubt and concern as she was feeling.
Alena stared at the passing road, the GPS counting down the minutes. “Why, though? What would Melissa gain by this?” she asked.
Cal glanced at her. “Could be she thinks making it look like Dexter has her puts more pressure on the cops to bring him down. But he’s already the subject of a manhunt.”
“Exactly,” Alena whispered. Her doubts pressed in hard, but so did the memory of Melissa’s panicked voice. “So maybe this is the real deal.”
The farther they drove into the outskirts of Cypress Falls, the more this part of town showed its scars. Everything felt as if it was decaying around them.
They passed an old diner with plywood nailed over the windows, the faded sign still promising the Best Pancakes in Texas.
A nail salon with sun-bleached posters of manicures had gone dark, the glass door streaked with dust. Even a small daycare sat abandoned, the playground rusting, paint flaking off the swings.
Businesses that hadn’t survived the hit after Covid, and nobody had come back to revive them.
The strip mall came into view just past a row of boarded-up storefronts.
The cracked marquee still read Blanco Crossing in chipped letters.
Half the panels were missing, and graffiti sprawled across the walls in thick black lines.
Broken windows glinted in the late sun, jagged like teeth.
Weeds and trash filled the parking lot, and an old shopping cart lay on its side near the curb.
Cal slowed, then stopped a little up the street, far enough to keep them out of view. They both scanned the area. The place looked dead, silent, but Melissa’s panicked words still echoed in Alena’s head.
“No sign of her,” she whispered, eyes narrowing on the shadows near the rear of the mall. “Or anyone else.”
Cal’s hand rested on the gearshift, tense and ready. They both knew how quickly that could change.
The street was empty, no sign of Melissa, no passing cars, nothing but the heat shimmering off cracked pavement. Cal killed the engine, and for a moment the silence pressed down around them.
They slipped out of the SUV, doors closing with the softest thud they could manage.
Alena kept low, moving in step with Cal as they hugged the row of shuttered businesses.
The old diner loomed on one side, windows boarded tight, its paint peeling in long curls.
A sagging laundromat stood next to it, the sign half torn from the wall.
Her hand tightened on her Glock as she pulled it free, the weight steadying her nerves. Cal already had his drawn, his eyes sweeping every shadow.
The closer they moved toward the back of the strip mall, the heavier the air seemed to get. Alena’s heart pounded, each step echoing in her chest. If Melissa were here, if she’d really gotten away, this was where she’d be hiding.
A dark alley cut between two of the shops, leading toward the rear lot. Alena slowed, her breath catching as the silence stretched even thinner.
They moved in silence, their boots crunching softly on broken glass and gravel until they reached the back of the strip mall.
Alena pressed her shoulder against the wall, Cal at her side, both of them pausing before the corner.
Her pulse thundered in her ears as she leaned just enough to peer around.
The rear lot stretched out in a wide, cracked expanse of asphalt.
Faded parking lines disappeared under weeds pushing through the pavement.
A rusted Dumpster squatted near the wall, its lid propped half open.
Beyond it, empty loading bays yawned like dark mouths, their shadows deep enough to swallow a person whole.
Scattered pallets and broken crates littered the ground, offering too many places for someone to lie in wait.
No Melissa. No gunmen. Only silence.
Then the silence broke. A scrape of movement from the Dumpster made Alena’s breath hitch. She lifted her Glock higher, every nerve firing as her gaze locked on the rusted metal.
The lid shifted, creaking, and for a fleeting second she caught a pale blur of movement. A face. Hair. Someone.
Maybe Melissa.
Her chest tightened. “Cal,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, “I saw someone.”
Alena kept her weapon steady as she and Cal edged forward, moving from one patch of cover to the next. The Dumpster loomed closer, the creak of its lid still echoing in her ears. She tightened her grip on the Glock, every instinct screaming to be ready.
Halfway there, the sharp crack of gunfire split the air.
A bullet struck the wall inches from her head, stone chips stinging her cheek.
“Down!” Cal barked.
They dove behind a stack of warped pallets, wood splintering as another round punched through. Alena flattened against the ground, her chest heaving. The lot, moments ago empty, suddenly felt alive with danger.
She caught Cal’s eyes, his expression grim. Whoever was out here wasn’t trying to scare them off. They were trying to kill them.
Alena raised her weapon again, scanning the shadows, waiting for the next flicker of movement.
The next shot cracked overhead, and Alena saw the flash of a muzzle on the roofline. She couldn’t make out the shooter, only the length of a rifle barrel jutting over the edge.
Another round slammed into the asphalt near her boots, forcing her to duck deeper behind the stack of pallets.
The gunfire didn’t let up. Each shot came quick, relentless, pushing them down, cutting off any chance of advancing.
Out of the corner of her eye, movement jolted her attention. A man stepped from the shadow of a loading bay, half dragging, half hauling Melissa by the arm. She was fighting him, her screams raw, desperate. “Help me! Please!”
Alena’s stomach knotted. The sound, the sight of Melissa being dragged away, hit her like a punch. For an instant she wasn’t here, she was back in that warehouse, the gunfire, the blood, David crumpled on the floor. The memory clawed at her, threatening to break her focus.
She forced it down, locking her jaw. This wasn’t then. This was now. And if she didn’t keep her head, Melissa was gone.
“Cal!” she hissed, pointing. He followed her gaze, his face hardening as he saw the struggle unfolding across the lot.
But the steady fire from the roof kept them pinned, every bullet a barrier they couldn’t cross.
Gunfire rattled down from the roof, every round sparking against pavement and concrete. Alena’s pulse hammered as she pressed tighter to the broken pallets, but then the sound of footsteps.
She shifted, risking a glance past the stack. Melissa’s captor was dragging her toward a sedan parked in the far corner of the lot. Melissa stumbled, her screams sharp and panicked, but he yanked her forward without slowing.
Alena’s breath caught. If he got her into that car, she was gone.
She got to her feet, trying to angle for a clean shot at the tires. The instant she moved, another burst of fire erupted from the roof, bullets sparking so close she could feel the heat of one zip past her shoulder. She dropped back down, teeth gritted.
The shooter had them locked in, not letting her take the shot. Every second cost them ground, and Melissa’s voice was getting farther away.
Cal muttered a curse beside her, his eyes cutting to the roofline. They couldn’t stay pinned down much longer.
He shifted against the pallets, his jaw set. “Cover me,” he said.
Alena’s heart kicked hard. “Wait. Don’t—”
But he was already moving, breaking from cover in a low sprint. He cut across the open strip of asphalt, then dove into the tangle of shrubs and weeds edging the lot.
“Damn it, Cal,” she muttered, snapping her Glock up.
She squeezed off two shots toward the roofline, forcing the sniper’s attention. The rifle barked again, but this time the bullets chewed into the pallets around her. Splinters flew, stinging her cheek.
It worked.
The fire came her way, sparing Cal. But it left her pinned, crouched tight behind cover as more rounds tore into the wood and concrete. Her chest heaved with every breath, her ears ringing from the constant crack of the rifle.
Alena risked a glance toward the lot. Melissa’s captor had nearly reached the car. Melissa fought him, thrashing, her cries carrying across the broken asphalt. Each sound twisted deeper into Alena, feeding the fire in her gut.
She ducked lower as another round hit so close it rattled through her bones. She couldn’t stay down much longer, not if Melissa was going to survive this.
Gunfire hammered around her, each round slamming into the pallets until it felt like they’d disintegrate under the barrage. Alena’s arms burned from holding her aim, waiting for even the smallest chance to fire back.
Across the lot, Melissa’s captor wrenched her into the car, and seconds later, the engine roared to life. Melissa screamed again, high and desperate, and it shot straight through Alena’s chest.
A muzzle flash sparked from the roof, and Alena flinched back as another shot cracked against the concrete beside her. She couldn’t hold this much longer.
Then, above the chaos, Cal’s weapon barked. Once. Twice.
The return fire from the roof cut off. Alena whipped her gaze upward just in time to see a figure stumble forward, arms flailing as he pitched over the edge. The body hit the asphalt with a sickening thud, sprawled and motionless.
“Shooter’s down!” Cal’s voice cut across the lot.
Alena pushed up from cover, her pulse surging as she sprinted toward the car. Cal was right behind her, both of them scanning, searching. But the car had already vanished down the cracked street, the engine’s growl fading into the distance.
Melissa was gone.