"Drive." The words were softly spoken but there was no denying the steel woven within his tone.
Easing forward, Guy drove to the end of the block. He stared up at the CN Tower which loomed over him.
"Don't even think of ramming that building. It'll be the last thing you ever do." The muzzle of the gun was jammed into his head right behind his right ear. "I want the girl."
He was tempted to say 'what girl' but didn't think the guy had too much patience left, not given the black steely look he was getting. Breathing deeply to calm himself, he flipped on the signal and turned left onto 104th Ave. Acting like he had some place specific to go he maneuvered through the downtown traffic.
"What do you want with her?"
"Come now, Mr. Turner. You're the one who found her. If it hadn't been for you, I would have continued to believe that she'd died in that plane crash with my sister."
"I'm curious how you know my name."
"You'd be amazed what I know about you. You'd be amazed by what I know, period."
Guy's mind was on rapid fire. Thoughts were flying so fast it was like a tornado was blowing through, ripping at all the information he was trying to pull together. A lot of what the man said triggered all sorts of flickers of recollections. He just couldn't pull it all together.
"Your sister died?"
"A long time ago. And now I can tie up the last loose end. She can rest in peace."
"So your sister's the one who stole Bailey." He glanced up into the hard black glint of his eyes. It was like looking into a coal mine. The message was very clear. His days were numbered.
He snapped forward, clamping his hand onto Guy's shoulder. "She was doing right by that baby. My sister was a good woman." He emphasized his last statement, by squeezing, with the force of a vice.
Guy tried not to wince as his fingers tingled and then went numb.
"I have more strength in this hand then you do in your whole body. Care to test that?"
The man looked like he'd just stepped out of a body building gym. He might have gray tinting his black hair but he was definitely in much better shape than any man his age or even those twenty years younger. At least any that Guy knew. Gritting his teeth, Guy stiffly shook his head.
The man chuckled and sat back. The gun was still pointed at Guy's head. "We found a loving couple who would have been good to her."
"And they paid you a lot of money."
He laughed again, like it was the best joke he'd heard ever. "Ah but that was the whole point of it. To get rich."
Guy turned right onto 109th St. He still had no clear plan of where he was going but some ideas were at least coming clear.
"So, how many infants did you borrow?"
"Borrow, I like that. Funny man. Funny." He sat forward. "We had something good going until that baby messed everything up. Too much publicity. Had to sit tight for a long time. Then when we do move the squalling infant, they crash. Go figure. We should have held her for ransom."
"Where was she going?"
"What?"
"Where would you have sent Bailey? Where was the family she was supposed to go to?"
"Diamonds. A girl's best friend you know. Let's just say, she'd love surfing and have a nice tan now."
"I don't understand."
"You're not meant to. Okay enough with the nice chat. You know all you're gonna know. Where's she at?"
Slowing down, he stopped at the red light. A large mall was situated off to his right, he glanced towards it. There was something there but he just couldn't figure out how it would help him. The tip of the gun was shoved into soft tissue of his neck. He lifted his hands in surrender.
"I'm headed there. Just hold on. A few more minutes."
He eased forward as the light turned green. His eyes darted from side to side but he didn't see anything that would help him. Approaching the north end of 109th he realized it came to a T, he had to turn. This may be his only chance. He slowed making sure that there was no one ahead of him at the intersection. Then he hit the gas. They surged forward, throwing them back against the seats and then just as fast he hit the brakes. He floored the vehicle, opened the door, hit the lock button and jumped out. It all happened in the blink of an eye. He tucked as he flew out of the SUV landing hard on his shoulder. He flipped over onto his back into oncoming traffic. Even though his first instinct was to lay there and feel sorry for himself he jumped to his feet and trotted with a bit of a limp and a hanging right arm across the street of honking vehicles, towards the nearby mall.
Dialing 411, he got the phone number he needed. He was too scared that 911 would be able to trace him. Calling the Edmonton Police, he left a brief message about the accident. After he'd made that call he hit his speed dial.
"Graham. Graham."
"You've reached the man. Leave me a message."
"Dammit. I need you to get a hold of Detective Bean. He can catch the guy at the corner of 109th St. and Queen Elizabeth Ave. If he gets a hold of the Edmonton Police, whom I've already called, they should be able to get there quick enough to catch him. He's locked in a smashed up SUV. With a small green car sticking out of the side of it. Can't miss it, really. Call me asap. And yes I'm fine."
He entered a store in the mall and cut through clothing, dodged around the perfume counter, coughing as he did so and shot out into the main part of the mall. The odd looks he was getting did make him pause but it was the throbbing in his hand that had him stop long enough to look down. Blood dripped off the tip of his index finger. The trail behind him was a perfect dotted path leading right to him.
Crap. Nothing like giving my friend a map to follow.
Zipping into a pharmacy, he bought some band aids and quickly fixed up the scrapes on his wrist and hands. He ran through the long building. The hallway took a bit of a zig and then a zag, so he followed it rather than enter a large department store. It would have hid him better but would also slow him down. Right now he wanted some distance between them. Every now and then he'd look back over his shoulder to see if anyone was pursuing him. Since no one was giving him much attention, beside weird looks and no one was running other than a few kids who thought it was great to get to do that too, he zipped out a side entrance. Hardly believing his luck, he saw a row of taxis. He jumped into the first one.
"Westin Hotel. Please."
"All right sir." The guy flipped his meter, adjusted his mirror and cautiously pulled out.
"I'm in a hurry." Guy looked out both side windows and then the one behind him. The sound of sirens caught his attention. The cabbie pulled up to a set of lights, signaling to turn left. Guy sat forward trying to see where the sound was coming from. An ambulance went flying by.
He sat back but turned so he sat sideways. They drove down the street, keeping up with traffic.
"What will it cost me for you to floor it? I need to get there now!" He pulled out his wallet and leaning forward, he showed him two twenties. The driver picked up the speed some. Guy took out another twenty. He was slammed back against the seat as the cabbie hit the gas and started to swerve in and out of traffic. "Without getting a ticket." He slowed marginally but Guy couldn't complain when the man pulled up outside his hotel within three minutes.
Paying him and then adding a twenty to get him to wait, he climbed out and carefully took full stock of the area. There didn't seem to be any strangers. Not sticking around he raced into the hotel, up the escalator and took the elevator to the 22nd floor. He shoved the card in the lock and flew into the room, slamming the door behind him. He'd barely gotten it closed when he found himself spun around, punched in the gut and flattened on the floor. Flipping quickly, he was ready to retaliate when he realized who his assailant was, at the same time she did.
Her eyes wide, her breathing hard, she had her fist in a position to give him a short but quick, and he was very sure, effective punch to his nose or throat. Rolling away from her he jumped to his feet. "Hi honey, couldn't find anyone else to kick the crap out of?"