Page 20 of Irreverent (Salvation Society)

They yank me to my feet. “You get to deliver a message.”

Chapter Ten

Riker

With the last of my things packed up, I make sure everything in the condo is turned off and check my flight information one last time as I move everything to the door.

The one thing I can’t pack away is this unrelenting knot in the pit of my stomach. I barely have the energy to move, and for once it’s not related to a lack of sleep. I slept better last night than any time in recent memory.

I rake the back of my knuckles over my beard, trying to convince myself it’s time to pack up the car. I sling the first of my bags over my shoulder, pausing when the glare of bright lights bounces off the window in front of me, blinding me as a van turns and stops near my car.

I creep toward the window and watch for a moment. The headlights dim on the black transport van, and a shadowed figure moves inside.

There’s just something off about it. A sense of familiarity.

Then, I remember Libby’s video call from yesterday, when she’d held up the phone, capturing the man following her. Shortly after she turned off the trail, he’d cut across the road in front of a black transport van.

This makes for too many coincidences, so I watch a moment longer. The van shifts and the driver’s door opens, illuminating the interior of the cab and the man in a baseball cap as he steps out. He holds a cigarette to his lips, and the orange glow of the lighter reflects off his face.

I quietly return my bag to the floor.

The man keeps watching the front doors, so I wait and watch him long enough to place a call to the police and snap a picture of him, making sure to get the van’s license plate. But when I hear a crash next door, I head out the back of the condo, into the shared courtyard. Peering through one of the back windows, I try to make out anything in Libby’s apartment. It’s still dark, but they must be up front.

I twist the doorknob, noting the sharp, fresh scratches around the keyhole. Someone has been tampering with it recently. I slowly turn the knob, trying not to make a sound.

As soon as I open the door, I hear the ruckus coming from the front of the condo, but I keep to the side wall until I’m close enough to reach my arm around the corner and flick on the bathroom light.

The front goes silent.

“Go check,” a man barks.

I gauge the approaching man’s distance with each footstep, waiting for him to pause at the bathroom door before I lunge around the corner, grabbing him by the throat and swinging him to the floor. As soon as he goes limp, I jump to my feet and creep up the hallway.

Peeking around the corner, I see Libby break away from the second man. When he stumbles back, she rips the hood off her head, grabs the whiskey bottle and pummels him right in the temple.

The man outside must have noticed because by the time I reach the front of the condo, I see the van speeding off toward the main road.

Libby sags against the wall.

“You okay?” I catch her as she slides down. Her face is red, the left cheek swollen just under her eye, and I catch the soapy chemical scent off her hair indicating there’d been chloroform on the fabric hood.

“Just gonna collapse now.”

I lead her to the couch and find a knife to cut her wrists free. “I already called the police.”

She nods, leaning sideways with her face in her hands, but I break away from accessing her when I hear one of the men groan. I grab whatever I can find to secure their wrists and ankles until the police arrive, and snap pictures of their faces in case I need to do my own digging later.

When I turn back, Libby is on her knees, reaching for her shattered phone. “Great.”

I pull her back to the couch and sit next to her. “What happened?”

“They were hiding. Waiting when I came in.” Her words run together as she sways in her seat, and her hands shake against her thigh. “When you distracted them, I smelled chloroform. But when they split up, I had the chance to…” Dropping her head against my shoulder she waves a hand toward the man she’d knocked out. “That.”

“Any idea what they were after?”

“Said they had a message.” She shakes her head. “That whoever it was for would know what it meant.”

She lurches forward. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

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