Leslie Parrish - Pitch Black

“Don’t see your name here.”

“I’m working an active investigation and have a hot lead.”

The man shrugged in boredom, law enforcement visits not unusual. “Okay.”

“Did an Officer Myers come through here with a young woman this morning?”

“ ’ Bout a half hour ago,” the man said. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Went up the private drive to the admin office. Warden’s orders.”

Good God.

The guard handed the ID back and Alec took it. “Several other members of my team are on their way here; they’re minutes behind me,” he said.

“Well, you can go, but your friends are gonna have to wait. Warden called me a few minutes ago and asked me to go down to the basement at eleven a.m. and check the electrical box. I guess they had some problems with the gate last night, right at eleven.”

Alec frowned; the story sounded incredibly suspicious. This guy couldn’t be too bright not to question it. “You’re leaving your post?”

“The entry gate will be locked down.” The guard pointed to the towers high above. “Nobody’ll get by, and anybody wanting to come in will have to wait.”

“My colleagues can’t wait,” he bit out, his nerves screaming.

The guy scratched his head. “I guess I could call up to the warden…”

“No!” Alec snapped, not wanting Connolly to have any warning. He glanced frantically at his dashboard clock. Ten fifty-seven. “Just give them another minute, two tops. I’m sure the other agents will be here by then. Now, I really need to get in.”

The warden wanted the gate unattended precisely at eleven a.m. Which meant something or someone would be going through it and he wanted no witnesses.

Like a car with a woman stuffed into the trunk?

The guard finally nodded, pressing a button to open the enclosure. Alec gunned it, but rather than heading to the public area, he immediately swung onto the private drive Sam and Myers had used. The guard yelled from behind, jogging after him and waving his arms.

Alec ignored the man. Racing up the drive, he was conscious of every second that passed. Ten fifty-eight . Was he getting in the car even now? Tying Sam up? Hurting her?

Suddenly, Alec spotted a dark vehicle coming toward him from the direction of the administrative wing. He swerved, straddling the center lane, blocking the route. “You’re not getting past me, you son of a bitch.”

His darkest suspicions were confirmed when the vehicle suddenly veered off onto a gravel access road. Connolly .

Swerving to follow, Alec felt the car fishtail. He steered out of the spin, flooring the gas pedal. As he roared away, he saw the guard, still jogging toward him, screaming and waving for him to stop.

“No fucking way, buddy,” he snapped, hunkering down and taking off.

The prison grounds were expansive, covering a few hundred acres, and this narrow, on-site road was obviously intended for maintenance vehicles only. The warden had the advantage of knowing where it led, if it eventually came to any kind of gate that would allow him to escape.

Alec, however, had the advantage of being desperate to save the woman he was falling in love with.

Dust hung a foot off the gravel, kicked up by the dark sedan he was following, now no more than ten yards ahead. Close enough for him to make out the license plate and realize Connolly was driving the detective’s Baltimore PD vehicle. He didn’t want to think about what had probably happened to Myers, who would never have given the vehicle over freely. Right now, he could focus only on Sam.

Brake lights suddenly flashed. A few yards ahead of the police vehicle was a small building, probably a storage shack for road salt and lawn equipment.

The road ran out directly in front of it.

The Professor was cornered. Which would make him very angry, and even more dangerous. His brake lights flashed again, gravel spewing up and spitting on Alec’s windshield a few yards behind.

Alec quickly ran down the possibilities. He could ram the car, hope to incapacitate the suspect before he could retaliate against Sam. An accident could hurt her just as badly, however. Maybe even more so if she was already injured.

He didn’t want a hostage situation, especially not here, on the warden’s own turf, where his own men might be slow to react against him. But he wasn’t about to let the bastard get away.

Out of time, Alec jammed the brakes, spun the wheel, and slid his vehicle’s passenger side to within inches of the other car’s bumper. He blocked the entire width of the road, eliminating any turnaround room. If Connolly wanted to drive around him, he’d have to plow through a couple of trees.

Leaping out, his weapon in hand, he remained crouched down for cover, yelling, “Give it up, Connolly. There’s no way out of here!”

He counted to five, praying the man would have enough self-preservation instinct to give himself up, not go down in a blaze of glory. But since Connolly had to know how he, a former warden, would be treated in prison, Alec didn’t figure it would be that easy.

Movement in the car ahead; then the passenger side door opened.

“Nice and easy,” he called, the gun trained on the kill zone.

But Connolly didn’t step out. Sam did. Her eyes were wide, frightened, her hands cuffed together in front of her, but she appeared unharmed.

“You okay?”

She nodded once but didn’t run to safety. He realized why when he saw the tip of a handgun pointed at her spine. Then the warden stepped out, grabbing her by the back of her neck, the weapon never dipping below its deadly target.

“Step away, Agent Lambert, or I’ll kill her,” he yelled. The man’s voice shook with rage. His hand, however, was remarkably steady.

“You have no escape,” Alec said. “There are other agents pouring through the gate right now, and armed guards everywhere.”

“Guards who are loyal to me,” the man said with a sneer. “They’ll do what I tell them to.”

“Aid and abet in a murder? I don’t think so.”

Connolly’s eyes blazed with hatred. “I said the sheep will do what I want them to!”

Alec didn’t respond, merely kept his weapon pointed at the man’s head, able to do nothing else. He would not lower it. This wasn’t some average, scared thug who could be reasoned with. The man would blow her head off the very second he thought he could.

Alec’s finger tightened on the trigger. His stare found Sam’s, silently pleading with her to trust him, to understand that he would find a way to get her out of this.

Something in her expression, though, made him hesitate before again focusing on Connolly. She lifted her cuffed hands an inch or two, looking down at them pointedly, though keeping her head very still. As he watched, she reached into one sleeve with her other fingers, extracting something long and slender, something silver and sharp-looking.

She had a weapon. A knife? Letter opener?

Alec wanted to tell her not to do a damned thing, to let him handle it. But he wasn’t that stupid. If they were both going to get out of this alive, he needed her help. If she could distract Connolly for a second or two, escape from his line of fire, Alec could take him out.

“I’m afraid you’re blocking me in,” said the warden, icily polite. But the words didn’t disguise the insanity of his twisted smile. “Put the gun down and get over there into the trees. Leave your keys in the ignition. The lady and I are going to drive away.”

He shook his head. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Then I’ll shoot her.”

That cold, matter-of-fact tone said he meant it. He was growing tired of the standoff, ready to act.

They had no time. Alec’s eyes shifted toward Sam’s face. She mouthed the words, On three , and he nodded almost imperceptibly.