Page 71 of Deep Within Me

Kele again checked the clock on her computer screen, calculating time and distance. She nodded then waited until Diaz left the room.

With a few keystrokes, she pulled up data from the strip club’s security cameras that she’d hacked into earlier, focusing on the one that provided coverage for the back door. The blueprint she’d found of the building showed her that’s where the office was. She fast-forwarded through the recordings and stopped frequently to check time stamps.

In the other room, Diaz moved around the unfamiliar space noisily as he searched for coffee filters, the grounds, and cinnamon rolls she’d mentioned. With any luck, he’d be in there for at least another ten minutes.

She continued her computer search and backed up the tape then fast-forwarded it once more.

Minutes later, she had her answer. At the same time every morning—once the club had closed for the night and the staff had departed—the back door opened. The man who’d strangled the stripper came outside, tossed a trash bag into a nearby bin, enjoyed a smoke, then went back in. Precisely twenty minutes later, he left the building with a briefcase, got into his car, and drove away. His routine never varied.

With Carreon there, would the man do the same tonight?

He wouldn’t leave, of course. He might not even toss the trash bag. However, he quite possibly would enjoy a smoke. Why not? His monitors showed the deserted parking lot, proving he had nothing to worry about. A sophisticated security system protected the club from intrusion and from anyone hacking into it and turning it off.

Kele knew. She’d tried.

Carreon expected Liz and Dr. Munez to return to his stronghold where he, no doubt, had someone waiting for them. He’d want to remain at the club so he could be on camera forthe next woman’s execution, just in case Liz didn’t do what he wanted. However, the prick hadn’t considered that anyone from Zeke’s clan would guess he was there, or that no security system was foolproof, even if it couldn’t be hacked into. All cameras had blind spots, and Kele knew where the ones for these were.

“Coffee’s ready,” Diaz said. He stood in the doorway between the rooms. “You want it now or with the other stuff?”

She kept her focus on the screen, deleting what she’d brought up. “There’s a thermos in the lower cabinet on the right and a plastic container in the upper left cabinet. As soon as the rolls are finished you can put them in the container so we can take them with us.” She looked at him. “Once you do, we’ll leave.”

With any luck, everything would go according to plan. For Diaz, that meant his cousin would finally be in safe hands, traveling back here to be healed.

For Kele, it meant the end of Carreon and hopefully the beginning of her redemption. She would settle for nothing less.

Chapter Thirteen

You have so little time,Isabel’s voice whispered in Zeke’s thoughts,less than twelve hours.

He had to make the prisoners talk; it was the only way for him to get to Carreon and stop this madness. Zeke tried to move his mouth but it wouldn’t work. His limbs were weighted, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tense with pain. Exhaustion continued to grip him, refusing to let go.

So little time, so little—

He sank back into darkness—on some level understanding that he was asleep—and saw Liz. She smiled at him as though everything were all right. They were safe finally. Taking his hand, she placed it on her swollen belly.

“Did you feel the baby’s kick?” she whispered.

Indecent joy rolled through Zeke at the thought of their child. A son…or a little girl? He saw himself holding Gabrielle who then turned into a different baby, one that belonged to him and Liz. A sister Gabrielle would have loved and protected had she been here. Had Carreon not—

Even in his dream, Zeke couldn’t bring himself to relive her death. His sadness turned to happiness as he watched this new child growing up in a real home, not the clan’s stronghold but a house in one of the area’s countless suburbs with grass in the front yard, a play area in the back that boasted a sandbox and a swing set and—

Carreon’s office. The image intruded so quickly, Zeke flinched. He gaped at a woman’s legs, her moccasin half on her foot. Fire licking it.

Noooo.

He struggled to wake up. His nightmare—or was it a vision?—wouldn’t allow it. Like a camera, it honed in on a mark near thewoman’s foot. A mole? No. A scar on the ankle that Zeke hadn’t noticed before. Couldn’t be Liz. He’d been intimate with every inch of her flesh. The only imperfection on it was the reddish stain on her palm that proved she could heal.

Wasn’t it?

Uncertainty screamed through him. Instantly, Zeke awoke. He was slumped over the desk in the prisoners’ room. The two men were still in their chairs, their heads hanging down with sleep.

“You okay?” Jacob asked from the doorway.

No.“How long have I been out?”

“Just a few minutes.”

“How many?”