“That’s right. Only I wasn’t abducted.” Indignation soared through her that Mason had made such a ridiculous claim in order to manipulate the police into a manhunt for Blake.
He nodded then picked up the phone. “I’ll call Chief Waggoner.”
Moments later the chief—a heavyset man in his early fifties—appeared from his office. “Holly! I’m so happy to see that you weren’t harmed,” he told her. “I want you to know that as Jimmy’s widow, you’re still one of us and we take an offense against one of our own very seriously. How did you get away from Officer Michaels?”
“I didn’t. I was never a prisoner. Chief, there has been a terrible mistake made here. Mason Webber accosted me in the parking lot as I was leaving work. He pointed a gun at me and was going to kill me. He even fired it. Blake Michaels intervened. He rescued me from Mason, and when I insisted on coming to the police, he brought me here.”
He glanced around at the officers who were watching and listening. “Is that so?”
“Yes, it is. Mason Webber is the man you should be arresting. After he attacked me in the hospital parking lot, he showed up and shot at us. He’s out of control.”
The chief took her arm. “Perhaps we should speak privately in my office.”
He led her toward a door near the back of the bullpen. Once there, he closed the door and turned to her. “I’d rather you not make such accusations in front of my officers, Holly.”
“Everything I said was true. You and I both know it. Mason is out of control.”
“Mason is an exemplary, longtime member of this police force. He’s never been accused of erratic behavior before.”
She could hardly believe her ears. Was the chief actually defending Mason? “What about what you saw in Jimmy’s journal? The evidence he collected?”
“Well, the few pages you copied for me were really nothing but accusations. I looked into the incidents Jimmy mentioned and found nothing to indicate any wrongdoing. Perhaps if Jimmy had come to me instead of conducting his own inquiry, we might have some solid evidence. Or maybe there’s something more substantial in the rest of the journal. You said you were going to bring it in, but you didn’t.”
A realization hit her and her heart sank. “It was you, wasn’t it? You gave Mason those pages from Jimmy’s journal.” Had Blake been right that this entire force was corrupt?
There was no denying what the chief was trying to do. He wanted to paint Mason as the good guy even after he’d heard her story and seen what Jimmy had recorded. “He knew about the journal, Chief, and he had those copied pages. You’re the only one I told. Did you give them to him?”
He scowled at her accusation then slid a legal pad and a pen across the desk. “Why don’t you write down everything that happened, in your own words? That way, there’s no discrepancy.” The bite in his voice was obvious, and she knew at that moment their friendly relationship was over. His behavior didn’t make him a drug trafficker like Blake was investigating, but he was certainly complicit in Mason’s wrongdoings. Blake was right about the widespread corruption on this force.
She reached for the pen and pad. “I think that would be for the best.”
He pushed to his feet and headed for the door. “I’ll give you some time to work on that.”
Holly was glad when he was gone. Her pen flew across the paper, though she was still uncertain what she would do when she finished. Given Chief Waggoner’s behavior, she wasn’t convinced her statement would go anywhere except the inside of the trash can.
The screech of tires outside the chief’s window grabbed her attention. She put down the pad, walked to the window and saw Mason exit a car parked at the curb and hightail it toward the station. She hurried to the office door, where she could see the front of the police bullpen and Chief Waggoner speaking with another officer. He visibly tensed as Mason entered, but approached him and had words Holly couldn’t hear. She held her breath as she waited. Would the chief take him into custody? Or ignore everything she’d told him? She had her answer when Mason’s eyes grew wide and when Waggoner pointed toward his office. He wasn’t arresting Mason or even reprimanding him.
He was handing her over to him.
Disappointment filled her. She had been wrong about Chief Waggoner. She stared around at the people in the precinct. Was there anyone here she could trust? She didn’t know for sure but she knew she could trust Blake. She had to get to him.
She slipped out of the office, softly closing the door to hide her escape, and crept on tiptoe down the hall, away from the bullpen, before anyone noticed. There had to be a back door or employee entrance she could use to make her escape. She spotted an exit sign bright and beckoning at the end of the hallway and felt a rush of relief flow through her. It was her way out. The voices and footsteps heading her way stopped her from rushing toward it. She slipped into an empty office, holding her breath as two officers passed by without seeing her. Once they were out of sight, she ran to the exit and pushed open the door to freedom.
She didn’t make it.
Someone grabbed her from behind, slipping his hand around her waist. “Where do you think you’re going?” he snarled, his breath hot against her ear. Panic seized her as she recognized the voice.
Mason.
He pulled her into a room that appeared to be an employee break area. Her heart sank when she realized it was empty. No one around to help her or to stop Mason. She wasn’t even sure anyone in this precinct would try.
He shoved her against the counter and Holly reached out, trying to stop herself. She bumped a bin and it fell, sending utensils crashing down.
“Please don’t.” She held out her hands to him as she’d done before. “You don’t want to do this.”
“Oh, no, you’re wrong. I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”
He grabbed her again, pushed her to the floor and crawled on top of her, his hand pressing into her neck.
He was going to strangle her! Holly grabbed his hand, trying to break his grasp as fear ripped through her. She had to get away from him. She kicked and pounded on him, but he easily overpowered her. When she couldn’t break his grip, she flung her hands out hoping to grab something, anything, she could use as a weapon. Her fingers locked around an object and she jammed it into Mason’s neck, only then realizing it was a plastic fork. He howled but didn’t loosen his grip. In fact, he tightened it, his face full of rage.
Holly gasped for breath that wouldn’t come. She gripped and clawed at his hands fitfully. This couldn’t be it. This couldn’t be the end. I’m not ready, God! The room seemed to spin and fade as the lack of oxygen began to affect her. She had only moments before she lost consciousness and then her life.
But it wasn’t her late husband’s face she saw in the fading light of the room. It was Blake’s...hovering over Mason...a metal chair in his hands. She realized he was really there the instant he slammed the chair into the back of Mason’s head.
His grip loosened and he slumped over, unconscious.
Holly quickly slid out from under him, fighting for each wonderful but excruciating breath. Blake grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet, then slid his arm around her waist when her knees buckled.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his eyes probing.
She managed a nod and then a hoarse whisper. “What are you doing here?”
“Making sure you’re okay. I can see you’re not—so let’s get out of here.”
He kept his arm around her as they hurried through the exit. Her legs protested every step but she willed them to keep moving. They had to get away before Mason regained consciousness. Blake’s truck was parked at the back and he opened the door and helped her inside before running around to the