Forgotten Memories

No! Shane reacted without thinking, sprinting after the truck, keeping in the shadows as much as possible. Thankfully, his black SWAT uniform helped him blend into the night. The driver of the truck wasn’t speeding, obviously smart enough to know he shouldn’t attract undue attention. As the vehicle slowed at the stop sign, Shane chose that moment to dart out of the shadows and grab on to the edge of the tailgate. He hung there, his muscles tense with the effort, and silently prayed the driver wouldn’t notice.

The truck picked up speed and his fingers began to cramp as he clung precariously to the rear end of the truck, bracing his feet awkwardly on the bumper. When the vehicle hit a pothole, the back end bounced wildly, nearly throwing him off. He tightened his grip on the tailgate, determined to stick like glue.

He needed to swing himself up and inside the open bed of the truck, but also couldn’t afford to tip off the men who’d kidnapped Gabriella. He was seriously outnumbered. There were at least three of them inside—the two men who’d grabbed her and the driver. But with the tinted windows hiding them from view, he couldn’t discount the possibility of a fourth man, who could be sitting in the front passenger seat.

Three to four men for one hostage? Seemed extreme. They’d obviously come prepared. And why on earth did they want Gabriella?

A red traffic light loomed up ahead and Shane waited for the truck to slow down before making his move. The momentum of the vehicle’s deceleration pushed him closer against thee metal frame. Using that to his advantage, he carefully eased one leg over the edge of the tailgate, hoping the driver wasn’t looking in his rearview mirror.

The light turned green and the truck picked up speed. He hung there with one leg over the tailgate for a moment, before he was able to push upward with his other foot to get over the edge. He rolled over and landed inside the truck bed with a thud that sounded unbearably loud to his ears.

He froze, his pulse skyrocketing as he hid his face beneath the black sleeve of his arm to avoid being detected. He prayed that the men who’d taken Gabriella wouldn’t look back there to find him. Several moments passed before he realized he was safe.

For now.

Shane carefully lifted his head to look around the bed of the truck. There wasn’t anything back there from what he could see, so he belly crawled to the front, hugging the top edge directly beneath the rear window. He had to brace himself to avoid being tossed from side to side across the open space like a sack of potatoes. When the truck turned a corner and then accelerated even further, he hung on and peered over the edge, squinting against the harsh wind rushing past while trying to focus on landmarks.

A large sign loomed above him, confirming his suspicions. They were on Highway 45, heading north.

His radio was clipped to his lapel and he knew he needed to call for backup. He should have called immediately, but he’d been determined not to let the truck get away with Gabriella inside. It was a split-second decision he didn’t regret.

He pressed himself into the corner of the truck, hoping that no one would see him if they happened to look through the back window. He flipped the switch on his radio, covering the speaker with his hand.

“This is unit twelve,” he whispered urgently. “Crime in process, officer in need of assistance.”

“You’re breaking up, please repeat,” the dispatcher said in what seemed to be an excruciatingly loud voice.

Shane winced and continued to hold his hand over the speaker to muffle the noise as much as possible. “Ten thirty-one,” he hissed, giving the code again for crime in progress. “Hostage situation. Black four-door truck heading north on Highway 45.”

“Ten-four,” came the reply.

“No lights or sirens,” he added. The last thing he wanted was for Gabriella to be caught up in some sort of high-speed chase. “Going radio silent.”

He shut off the radio, knowing that was against the rules but not willing to jeopardize his precarious position.

Or Gabriella’s life.

Shane didn’t want to think about what she might be suffering at the hands of her kidnappers. A wave of helplessness washed over him. He had no idea what was going on, or why anyone would take a trauma surgeon hostage from the hospital in the first place. Dragging in a ragged breath, he closed his eyes for a moment, praying the men wouldn’t hurt her.

He’d learned to lean on his faith at times like this, and turning to God helped him remain calm.

The truck slowed down, so he peeked over the side in time to catch a glimpse of the exit sign for Highway 60. He frowned, trying to figure out where they were going. There were plenty of wide-open spaces out in this area of Wisconsin. Pike Lake State Park wasn’t far from here. Was that where the truck was headed?

Shane had no idea, but he needed some sort of plan for once they arrived at their final destination. And he would have to act fast, using the element of surprise to his advantage.

When the truck picked up speed, he flipped his radio on again. “This is unit twelve, we’re heading west on Highway 60.”

“Ten-four,” the dispatcher replied. “I have two units responding, no lights or sirens.”

“Ten-four.” Shane breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that help was on the way. Surely he and Gabriella could hang on long enough for reinforcements to arrive.

But after just a few miles the truck slowed down and turned right again on some sort of dirt road lined with trees. Branches swept across the roof, slapping him around his head and face. The vehicle bounced over the ruts before it slowly came to a stop in a small clearing.

Shane grimly realized that he didn’t have time to wait for his backup to arrive. They’d obviously reached their destination and the situation was coming to a head right now.

There was no way he’d let Gabriella down. She’d saved his life and he was determined to do the same.

No matter the risk.

TWO (#ulink_5b0f6798-d738-5305-94b1-12980769fb51)

Gabby was sandwiched between the two men dressed in black, her heart racing with fear.

The only advantage she had at the moment was the fact that they’d tied her wrists together in front of her. Slowly she edged her hands over to the right, trying to reach the pocket of her lab coat without either of the gunmen noticing.

Her wrists hurt from where the rope cut into her skin, but she forced herself to ignore the sharp pain as she slipped her fingers into the deep pocket. She knew she had a scalpel in there from earlier in the evening, when she thought she was going to need it but then hadn’t. The one-and-a-half-inch blade wasn’t much of a weapon, especially against a gun, but it was better than nothing. Still, she had to get it out of her pocket and take the cover off the sharp edge of the blade before she could even use it.

Gabby could feel the handle of the scalpel, but her fingers were growing numb and she couldn’t seem to get a grip on it. Twice she managed to grasp the handle between her fingers, but then when she tried to draw the blade out, dropped it.

Gabby swallowed hard as tears threatened. At twenty-nine years old, she wasn’t ready to die, and certainly not like this. What in the world was going on? She led a boring life, one that consisted of working, eating, sleeping and then working some more. Sometimes she read mysteries and tried to get some running in, but not very often. As the youngest trauma surgeon on staff, she was expected to take a good portion of the late-night and weekend shifts.

Her social life was nonexistent, which was the way she liked it. She’d avoided personal relationships since her residency, unable to fully trust that she wouldn’t become another victim again. Besides, she didn’t need a man interfering with her goal of dedicating her life to helping others.

She couldn’t imagine what she’d done to make anyone, especially a guy named Creighton, angry enough to do something like this. The more she thought about it, the more she believed these Neanderthals had grabbed the wrong person. This couldn’t possibly be about her. Yet being innocent wasn’t going to spare her life. If they didn’t rape her, they’d likely kill her.

Sooner than later.

But she wasn’t dead yet and just the idea of this being a potential sexual assault made her determined not to give up without a fight. She tried once again to grasp the handle of the scalpel and this time managed to hang on long enough to inch it up into the palm of her hand. Now she needed to figure out how to get the cover off the blade without slicing herself.

Abruptly the driver turned right onto a dirt road and the momentum made her fall against the guy on her left. Somehow she managed to hang on to the scalpel even when the guy harshly shoved her back upright.

“Hope you’re ready to cooperate with Creighton,” the guy on her left sneered. “Don’t bother trying to fight him—he’s used to getting what he wants.”

Gabby had no idea what that meant, and didn’t particularly want to find out. Desperately, she inched the handle of the scalpel farther into her hands until she could feel the edge of the plastic cover shielding the blade.

As the truck came to a stop in a small clearing, she managed to push the cover off the end without hurting herself. She did her best to keep the tip pointed down and hidden beneath the edge of her lab coat.

If either one of these men with guns looked at her hands too closely, they might see her meager weapon.

And then it would be game over.

The thug to her right slid out of the backseat first and then stood outside and gestured with his gun. “Get out.”

Gabby swallowed hard around the gag and scooted awkwardly across the bench seat, trying not to give in to the overwhelming sense of doom.

Despite having worked a twenty-four-hour shift, she needed to stay focused, ready to react at the right moment. The scalpel in her hands wasn’t much, but maybe, just maybe she’d catch these guys off guard long enough to run away. She hoped that the Creighton guy they talked about wasn’t standing there waiting for her.

The fact that she was wearing a white lab coat wouldn’t exactly help her hide for long. White was easy to see in the darkness of the night. Gabby winced. Why hadn’t she changed her clothes? It was obviously too late to wallow in regrets now.