Dark Justice(52)

She leaned her head just above the pavement and watched for his legs.

A forever minute ticked by. Two. Emily’s wrists burned, and her neck cramped. Where was he?

Maybe he’d circled back. Would come at her from behind.

When she couldn’t stay that way any longer, she heard him again. Coming toward her on her right. Close.

If he came up right by this car, it was over. But she couldn’t risk rising up to look again.

She crept around to the right side of the car. Flattened herself to the pavement again and saw his legs two cars over. Headed back up.

Emily didn’t dare make a sound. She slipped around to the back, where she’d started.

The footsteps soon stopped again. A curse word floated to her ears.

Then another noise. A kind of punch, and a hiss of air. Seconds later the sounds came again.

He was slashing her tires. Emily dropped her chin to her chest.

Two more times she heard the sounds. Then nothing—until the click of the building’s rear metal door opening.

He’d gone back to look for her in the building? This was her chance.

She rose up to peer over the car, making sure he was gone. Then straightened all the way up and tried to run. But her hurt knee made her limp. Sucking in big breaths, left hand clamped against her laptop bag, she headed for the rear of the parking lot. When she reached the barrier she flung one leg over it. In that split second she glanced back at the building—and saw the man through the large stairwell window on the second floor.

He was looking straight at her.

Emily cried out and brought her other leg over the barrier. She took off limp-running toward the nearest office building. Where she would go, she had no clue. With her bad leg, no way she’d be able to outrun the guy.

Behind her she heard the building’s door crash open and slam shut. Hard steps pounded toward her.

Emily ran faster, heels smacking the pavement and tears squeezing out of her eyes. The footsteps drew closer—no time to look back.

God, just get me to some people.

An eternity passed before she reached the building. She slammed into its back door, wrenched to open it.

Locked.

Emily swerved away to run around the building. In her side vision she saw the man leap over the barrier. As she neared the corner of the building she heard the back door open behind her. Emily pivoted, saw a man exit. “Call the police!” she flung out her right arm toward the fake agent. “He’s chasing me!”

“Wh—”

She kept running.

“Hey!” She heard the man call to her pursuer. “What are you doing?”

The fake agent’s footsteps sounded nearer. He veered at a diagonal to run straight for her. “FBI!” The words pumped from his mouth. Emily saw him flash his badge toward the other man.

He was going to catch her. And no one would stop him.

She rounded the corner, running as hard as her bad knee would allow. As she passed the front corner, she knew the “agent” was close. She burst onto the parking lot and wove through rows of cars. At the street about 100 feet away was a bus stop, a large black man, and a mother and small boy waiting. Emily careened toward them, screaming.

The man’s head jerked around.

“Help!” She had little breath. “He’s trying to kidnap me!”

The man took one look at the “agent” in pursuit and started jogging toward her. She met him halfway and almost fell into him. “Please. Get me . . . out of here.”

“Stop!” The “agent” was a mere thirty feet away. “I’m FBI!”

“He’s not!” Emily hung on to her protector’s arm. “His badge is fake!”

The man looked down and saw her torn pants, the bloody knee. “Come on.” He headed her toward the street. Then called toward the woman waiting at the bus stop, “You got a cell phone?” She and her child were watching them, mouths open. “Call 911!”

Her hand disappeared into her purse.

The “agent” caught up and grabbed Emily’s arm. She gasped.

“Stop.” The “agent” wasn’t even winded. His face was like granite, showing no fear in the presence of the other man, who was much taller. “This woman’s wanted for murder.” He stuck out his badge and FBI name tag with his picture on it. “Agent Rutger.”

Emily cringed. The badge and picture tag looked so real. Were they? What if the FBI was part of this?

She tried to break free. “I’m not, he’s lying! He tried to kill my mother!”

The man’s gaze jumped from Emily to Rutger.

“I’m telling you, back off.” Rutger pointed at the man. He gripped Emily’s arm harder. “Or I’ll have to bring you in too.”