LET ME BREATHE, page 23
The road turned from asphalt to gravel just before she reached the trucks. She made a left into the parking area. A large crane, a backhoe, and other heavy equipment stood near the back side of the building. She rolled closer to the new extension, hoping to find an open door.
A surge of adrenaline jolted Ashley’s body.
In front of what appeared to be a main entrance into the new wing of the plant, an old, dark blue sedan sat parked beside a silver sports car. As she neared the vehicles, her eyes flew toward the rear end of the sedan.
A sticker on the bumper proclaimed: See Rock City.
Ashley had found Moore. And it appeared that he wasn’t alone.
Bringing the SUV to a halt behind the sedan, Ashley pulled her cell phone from her jacket pocket. On her list of contacts, she tapped Deputy Foster’s name. After five rings, the call transferred to his voicemail. She’d have to leave a message.
“This is Ashley. I need backup at the rear side of the Savendyne Chemicals building. Moore is here, and I think he may have another victim.”
Foster was probably still working the accident scene on the highway.
To be safe, she tapped out a text message to the deputy with the same information that she’d left on his voicemail.
Ashley jumped out of the SUV. Drawing her Glock, she rushed toward the entrance of the new extension. She hoped that she’d gotten there in time. Hoped the driver of the sports car was still alive.
A bloodcurdling scream pierced the air.
Sounding like a woman’s voice, the cry had come from inside the building.
With her pulse racing, Ashley zoomed up the wooden ramp propped against the new wing’s foundation. One of the steel doors gaped open.
On high alert, she crossed the threshold and crept through an empty hallway. Inside the adjacent room, the walls stretched at least three stories tall, lined by a series of catwalks. She scanned the metal platforms above her, searching for movement. Nothing caught her eye.
Doors flanked the room on both the left and right. Not sure of which way she should go, Ashley headed left. She paused at the doorway, listening. Silence filled the space.
She wondered where Moore had taken the woman. Were they behind Ashley? Had she chosen to go in the wrong direction? Rethinking her decision, she was about to turn around when she heard a noise. A soft plink ahead of her.
Straining her ears, she eased through the doorway. Heavy shadows blanketed the space. As in the room before, she could make out the silhouettes of metal stairs and platforms stretching to the ceiling.
Ashley inched ahead. She thought that she glimpsed a flash of something out of the corner of her eye. Her gaze jerked toward the source of the movement, and she stepped to the side. Her foot hit something hard.
A stack of aluminum tubing broke free and crashed to floor. The clank of metal hitting concrete echoed around her.
Shit!
If Moore was in the building, he had to have heard the noise. Rushing to her right, she hid in the shadows beneath a staircase. She stood still and waited, her eyes trained on the entrance to the next room. She counted off the seconds. Moore didn’t appear.
Maybe the killer wasn’t in the building. Maybe he’d already escaped. And had taken his next victim with him.
Again, feeling as though she’d made a mistake and that she should have gone right when faced with the first two doors, Ashley emerged from her hiding spot. But since she’d heard the plinking sound, she decided that she should continue on and check the next room before turning around.
As she padded toward the doorway, she realized that Moore could be waiting for her on the other side, ready to pounce. But it was a risk she would have to take. The woman could be hurt. Ashley had to help her.
Glock first, she passed into the next room. A short row of windows, covered with clear plastic, lined the exterior wall to her left. Lit by the sun, the space proved much brighter than the previous rooms. She moved toward a long workbench positioned in the center.
Ashley froze.
She thought that she’d heard another noise. Holding her breath, she listened.
A soft moaning sound drifted toward her from the right.
Her guard up, she headed in the direction of the noise. It seemed to be coming from an alcove, cloaked in darkness. Ashley realized that it could be a trap. That Moore could be trying to lure her to him.
Letting her eyes readjust to the gloom, she edged along the wall into the alcove. A blue tarp covered something in the corner. She heard the moaning again. Louder this time.
Ready to fire her Glock, she yanked the tarp back.
Ashley’s breath caught in her throat.
A man lay on the concrete floor, a gag tied around his mouth and head. She knelt down and removed the white cotton fabric. She noticed that the man’s hands were free, not bound.
“My name is Ashley,” she told him. “I’m a special agent with the TBI. Are you okay?”
“I can’t move,” he said, emotion straining his voice. “My arms and legs feel like they’re asleep.”
Moore had obviously shot him full of quazodine.
“Are you hurting anywhere?”
“No.”
Ashley checked the man’s pulse rate. It was normal.
“You’ve been drugged,” she explained. “But the paralysis you have now is only temporary. It’ll wear off in a few hours.”
The man didn’t answer. She hoped that he believed her.
“What’s your name?” she asked him.
“Driscoll. I’m the construction foreman.”
Ashley was pretty sure that the cry she’d heard when she was in the parking lot hadn’t come from Driscoll.
“I heard a woman scream earlier,” Ashley stated. “I need to find her. Do you have any idea where the man took her?”
“That was Gwen. She’s the plant manager. And the man—his name is Royce Moore. I recognized his voice. I think he took Gwen back into the older part of the building.”
Ashley wondered whether the crash of the aluminum tubes had caused Moore to run the opposite way.
“I’m going to have to leave you here while I go look for her. But more help is on the way. Deputies from the sheriff’s department will be here any minute. They’ll take care of you.”
She hated to abandon the man, but she had no choice. She just hoped that what she’d told him was true—that Foster had received her message and was in route.
“Ashley, you need to hurry.”
She nodded, but she wasn’t sure that Driscoll could see her. “I will. But try not to worry. You won’t be alone for long.”
Driscoll sighed.
“It’s not me I’m worried about,” he stated. “Moore said he’s going to kill Gwen.”
CHAPTER FORTY SIX
As quick as she could, Ashley folded the blue canvas tarp like a blanket and tucked it around Driscoll as he lay motionless on the concrete floor, hoping that it would keep him warm. Except for the fact that Moore had injected the man with quazodine, Driscoll seemed to be okay. Once the drug left his system, he’d be able to walk again.
But Ashley worried for the safety of Savendyne’s plant manager, Gwen. Driscoll had overheard Moore say that he was going to kill the woman. And Ashley feared that he would murder her somewhere inside the building.
She had to stop him.
From what he’d overheard, Driscoll thought Moore had forced the woman to leave the new construction area, taking her into the older section of the chemical plant. Had Moore drugged Gwen as well? Was he carrying her, or was she still able to walk?
Drawing her Glock, Ashley hurried out of the gloomy alcove. She’d noticed a doorway on the other side of the workbench. Based on her memory of the exterior layout, the older part of the Savendyne building should lie in that direction.
She crossed the threshold and emerged inside a wide corridor. There was only one way she could go—to the left. She was thankful that she hadn’t faced a fork in the path.
Ahead, clear plastic sheeting hung from the ceiling. She guessed that the plastic was being used as a barrier, keeping the construction dust out of the working section of the plant.
Careful to be as quiet as possible, Ashley parted the sheeting and stepped through. Several yards up the corridor, she spotted a pair of swinging doors with windows at the top. Soft light glowed from the glass panes.
Ashley peeked through one of the windows. A network of metal pipes and what appeared to be giant storage vats filled the room on the other side of the doors. She didn’t see Moore. But with the plant closed, the lighting proved sparse and dim. He could be lurking in the shadows.
Moore had to have heard the aluminum tubing crash onto the concrete floor earlier. He knew that someone else was inside the building. And he probably figured it was someone looking for Gwen.
He could be hiding and watching. Waiting for someone to enter the room.
If he jabbed Ashley with the quazodine, it would all be over.
With her pulse quickening, she pushed through the swinging doors. A low humming sound met her ears. Ashley realized that even with the factory shut down for the weekend, liquid chemicals and gases still flowed through the metal pipes. It was possible that certain stages of production could be carried out without workers present.
She scanned the maze of piping, wondering which direction Moore had gone. Did he know the interior layout of the building? Or was he flying blind like Ashley?
It didn’t seem reasonable that Moore’s job as a groundskeeper would afford him access to the manufacturing areas of the plant. She knew that Savendyne had strict safety regulations in place that would no doubt have kept the man out. He probably had no idea where he was going. He likely just wanted to escape with Gwen.
And Ashley could work that fact to her advantage.
She would allow her instincts to guide her, taking the path of least resistance. The path a person would choose if they were fleeing in a hurry. She just prayed that she’d catch up with Moore before it was too late.
Before he killed Gwen.
Keeping her guard up, Ashley eased along the first aisle. She’d only traveled a few yards when a faint noise broke through the drone of the machinery. A dinging sound.
Was it a cell phone chime? Ashley paused and listened.
Ding.
She cut to the right and headed toward the sound. If the chime had come from Gwen’s phone, Moore might not know how to shut it off.
The hairs on the back of Ashley’s neck bristled as she heard two more dings, this time in rapid succession. And she was closing in on the source.
Ashley edged up next to a thick metal pipe—at least three feet in diameter—that stretched all the way to the third-story ceiling. The chimes rang out again. Three this time. The sound seemed to be coming from an electronic panel mounted on a steel pole. Disappointment flooded her heart as she stepped back from the pipe.
A burst of steam exploded beside her.
The cloud of hot vapor cut through the left sleeve of Ashley’s jacket, scalding her arm.
She stifled a scream as she jumped out of harm’s way. The chimes had been a warning. Obviously meant to alert the workers to the steam valve’s impending release.
With her arm feeling as though it were on fire, she returned to the aisle she believed Moore had traveled through. The severity of the pain let her know that she might have suffered a second-degree burn. It would be wise for her to search for a first aid kit, but she didn’t have the time.
Ashley could live with a permanent scar on her arm.
But she’d never forgive herself if any of her actions resulted in Gwen’s death.
She padded up the aisle as quick and as quiet as possible. She soon reached another set of swinging doors. She peered through the glass panes. The next room contained features similar to the one she stood in now. Storage vats, a labyrinth of pipes, and a series of platforms and catwalks.
Making sure she didn’t bump her arm, Ashley squeezed through the doors. As it had in the room before, the main aisle twisted to the right. She followed the path, her gaze sweeping the area ahead.
She caught sight of something lying on the floor about ten feet away. A dark object. As she drew closer, Ashley realized what it was. A shoe. A woman’s navy pump.
Adrenaline coursed through her. She was on the right trail. Moore had come this way. And it now seemed clear that he was carrying Gwen. The bouncing motion causing her to lose her shoe.
With her hope of rescuing Gwen rising, Ashley pressed onward. As she passed another steam pipe, she heard the warning bell chime. But when the valve released, she wouldn’t be anywhere near it.
Hearing the familiar ding sent another wave of pain radiating through her arm. She gritted her teeth and tried to focus her attention on the aisle in front of her. She hoped that she was gaining on Moore. That she’d find him—and Gwen—soon.
An eerie feeling nudged Ashley as she crept along a row of stainless-steel vats.
Was Moore watching her?
She stopped short and scanned the room. She didn’t see him—or anyone else.
Pushing the feeling aside, thinking it was probably due to the creepy lighting in the old factory, she continued on.
The aisle veered to the left.
As Ashley rounded one of the vats, her breath caught in her throat.
Up ahead, she saw a pair of bare feet sticking out into the aisle. A woman’s feet.
With her heart hammering in her chest, Ashley raced toward Gwen.
Was she still alive? Or had Ashley arrived too late?
Moore had dumped the woman next to a staircase. Ashley’s heart sank when she realized that Gwen’s eyes were closed. She could already be dead. Moore had wrapped a gag around her mouth, just like the one he’d used on Driscoll.
Ashley knelt down beside Gwen and checked her pulse.
Hope filled her chest. The woman was still alive, still breathing. Ashley had made it in time.
But then a horrible thought hit her. Had Moore given Gwen an overdose? Could that be the reason that the woman appeared to be unconscious? Did quazodine have the ability to stop a beating heart?
A soft clink piqued Ashley’s ears. It had come from above her.
Her gaze jerked upward, toward the staircase.
Ashley screamed as Moore jumped down on top of her.
CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN
Ashley’s heart skipped a beat as she caught sight of Moore soaring over the side rail of the staircase above her. The realization that he’d meant for her to find Gwen flashed through Ashley’s mind. It had been a setup. A trap. He’d probably left the shoe in the aisle as bait.
As Moore’s body crashed into hers, Ashley screamed. Her Glock flew out of her hand, landing beneath the stairs.
Both Moore and Ashley went down. They hit the concrete floor, inches from Gwen.
Ashley twisted her body, bucking her hips as she fought to push Moore’s weight off of her. The man raised his right hand. There was something clasped between his fingers. Something that looked like an EpiPen.
Quazodine.
Ashley jerked to the side, out of the way, just as Moore attempted to prick her.
In an attack of her own, she slammed her elbow into Moore’s neck. A choking sound spurted from his lips as he shot backward.
She scooted on the concrete, struggling to break free. But Moore’s muscular legs pinned her to the floor. He coughed, his left hand held to his throat.
Ashley thrusted forward. She sank her teeth into Moore’s forearm.
The man cried out.
He slung his arm forward, forcing her to let go. Pain sliced through Ashley’s cheek as his fist hit her jaw.
He raised his right hand again like a snake preparing to strike its prey. The tip of the needle glinted in the dim light.
Time seemed to slow down as Ashley’s gaze locked with Moore’s. Hatred gleamed in his eyes. He was determined to jab her with the quazodine. She couldn’t let him paralyze her. Refused to let him kill Gwen.
As Moore leaned toward her, Ashley shot out her fist, bashing his nose.
She heard his bones crack. He cried out again, his body twitching to the side as blood streamed down his face.
Taking advantage of the shift in his body weight, Ashley bucked her hips again. This time she managed to free her right leg. She rammed her knee into his side.
The force knocked Moore to her left. Ashley twisted her body, pulling her other leg free. She scrambled backward on the floor, getting her right foot under her.
As Ashley attempted to stand, Moore grabbed her left ankle.
He swung his right hand toward her leg.
Just before the needle bit into her calf, Ashley slammed her right heel into Moore’s already broken nose. Then she jerked her left ankle out of his grasp.
“You’re gonna pay for this!” he screamed.
Not today. Not if I can help it.
Ashley leapt to her feet. She raced into the tight space behind the staircase, searching for her Glock. She caught sight of the grip peeking out from beneath a jumble of piping. She glanced back, checking for Moore. She didn’t see him.
Kneeling down, Ashley fished her Glock out from under the pipes.
She whirled back around the staircase. Gwen still lay on the concrete floor, her eyes now open.
But Moore had disappeared.
Ashley rushed to Gwen’s side.
“I know that you can’t move right now, and you might not be able to feel your arms and legs,” she began. “But that won’t last. You’ll be okay as soon as the drug gets out of your system.”
At least Ashley prayed that the woman would pull through. She hoped the fact that Gwen was now awake meant that she hadn’t overdosed. That she’d make a full recovery.
“Don’t let him kill me,” Gwen pleaded.
Ashley pondered her words. She wouldn’t lie to the woman. Wouldn’t make a promise that she couldn’t keep.
“I’m going to do everything I can to stop him.”
