Chapter 17 #2
Blowing up the lab had been a risk, and a little bit of getting her own revenge on the man who had held her captive for more than half her life and controlled her every move.
But this topped all of that put together.
This time, she knew exactly what the danger was, and instead of hiding from it, pretending it didn't exist, she was walking straight toward it.
There were a lot of things up in the air about this.
When she’d called into the precinct with a request to meet with the lead detective on the case to clear the air, prove that she didn't kill anyone, they’d set up the park as a meeting place.
The cop had agreed to the meeting, but that didn't mean he wasn't coming with an entire team of cops to put her in handcuffs and haul her down to the station.
If that happened, then she had to trust that Prey would find a way to clear her name and get her out.
It wasn't what they were expecting, though.
This cop was working for Dr. Gardner, it was the only way to explain why she suddenly existed again when she’d been wiped off every digital record more than a decade ago, which meant he wanted to get her back to the man who had bought her.
The best way to do that was to agree to the meeting and then whisk her away quietly and deliver her to the scientist who had ruined her life along with so many others.
Then, no doubt the cop would return with fake proof exonerating her, pointing to someone else, likely the dead man, according to Blade and the others, and everyone would forget about her, and she’d be wiped out again.
Was that what would happen? She had no idea.
But she had to trust the guys, and surprisingly, that was easier than she would have expected.
People had been using her for her entire life. Blade might have started out using her, but that had shifted when he saved her life, when he brought her to his home instead of having the guys meet them somewhere neutral, when he made love to her, when he claimed her as his own.
Now Blade and the others were sitting in two vehicles, watching over her as she took this step to secure all of their freedom.
The weight of what she was doing rested heavily on her shoulders, and her gut churned with anxious nausea as she sat on the park bench and waited.
There were only nine minutes to go until the meeting time, although there was every chance that the police officer, an older man, close to retirement age, called Detective Deacon Hayes, might come early.
Might already be there, staking out the meet spot to see if she came alone.
Even if he didn't know it had been Blade, Dr. Gardner had to suspect that someone had been helping her, because she didn't have the skills to kill twelve armed men.
Minutes ticked down, and she wasn't sure if she was being watched. She didn't have that kind of sixth sense that the guys all seemed to have, and which she assumed was normal for special forces operators.
At exactly half past one, she saw a man walking toward her. He was dressed differently from the other people at the park. Maybe she could believe he was a businessman there on a lunchtime stroll, but he was striding toward her with purpose.
And she was pretty sure she could see the bulge under his jacket indicating he had a weapon there.
Fidgeting with the hem of her coat, Whitney fought against the urge to bolt, to get out of there, to run and hide, take the easiest route. But she didn't. She sat and watched the man approach.
When he came to a stop in front of her, she had to tilt her head way up to meet his face.
It was weathered, lots of lined, wrinkly skin, and small, narrow eyes, that were now watching her with an apprehension that would have put her on edge if she wasn’t already about as on edge as it was possible to be.
“Ms. Daley?” he asked after a long moment of silence.
All she had to do was pretend to want to clear her name. That was her goal. She had to act like she had never met Blade and his team, that they hadn't tortured her, hadn't taken her under their wing, weren't sitting just at the edge of the park waiting to see where the cop took her.
“Y-yes,” she replied. “Are you Detective Hayes?”
A single nod was the only response she got.
“Please, you have to believe me, I didn't kill anyone, and I'm not a disgruntled employee. I'm not even an employee, I was being forced to work there against my will,” she rambled, the desperation easy to fake because she really was fueled by fear right now.
“Shh,” the cop hissed, looking over his shoulder like he expected someone to jump out from behind the trees.
If anyone was out there, she couldn’t see them, but there had to be one of Dr. Gardner’s people somewhere close by, assuming the plan was to pass her off to them.
“I just want you to understand that I didn't do anything wrong. I never killed anyone, and I only blew up the place because I was trying to escape.” That was mostly true, even though she hadn't technically needed to set off those explosives to get away. She’d already broken Dr. Gardner’s hold on her, she’d just wanted him to suffer for putting her through everything he had.
“Let’s not talk here in the park. We wouldn't want anyone to spot you and call in the cops,” he said, which he had to know made him look suspicious because he was the cops.
If she hadn't come here to set a trap of her own, she would have known then that something was up and he wasn't there to listen to her try to clear her name.
He didn't have to listen to her, he knew she had committed no crime.
“O-okay,” she agreed. “Where do you want to go? You're not taking me to the station, are you? Because I swear, I didn't hurt anybody.”
“All right, all right,” he said, reaching out to grab her arm. His grip was hard enough to leave behind bruises, and she had no doubt that Blade would punish the man for hurting her like that.
While her instincts told her to pull away, to run, because this man screamed danger and he wanted to deliver her to people who would take pleasure in punishing her for her dissent, Whitney didn't. She allowed the cop to lead her through the park, knowing that Blade could hear her every word.
They went to the far side of the park, crossed the street where there was a row of shops, bakeries, and cafes, gift shops, and a store that sold children’s clothing.
Bypassing all of them, he led her through a small alley leading between a store selling fresh fruits and vegetables, and a travel agent with bright pictures of tropical islands on its windows.
“Where are we going?” she asked, tugging slightly back against him. Not because she was going to attempt to escape, but because if she really was there to clear her name, she’d be wondering why they were walking down an alley.
“My brother owns the produce store, thought it would be a quiet place for you to show me your evidence that you claim clears your name without anyone spotting you,” the cop replied, but even without training like Blade’s, she could hear the lie in his voice.
Opening up a door at the back of the alley, they stepped inside a large open space lined with huge wooden boxes filled with a range of fresh produce.
Whitney was glad the man had said where they were going, so she didn't have to, and knowing where they were meant the guys would be closing in, waiting to see when Dr. Gardner was going to pop up, or if he didn't, following her to wherever the scientist was holed up.
“Can I give you my proof now?” she asked.
“Sure, whatever,” the cop replied, looking about nervously, obviously expecting someone.
No one appeared, but a loud crack suddenly split through the air, and the older man beside her dropped.
Whitney was scrambling backward before she even realized what she was doing. Someone had just shot Detective Hayes. Killed him. The bullet hole in the center of the man’s forehead confirmed it, as did his sightless eyes now staring at nothing.
“He was annoying, right?” a voice asked, and she saw a shadowy figure step out from behind two of the pallets of fruit.
A voice she knew.
A voice she feared.
“Time to come home, baby genius,” Terry Richards, Dr. Gardner’s head of security, said with a smirk.