‘You are gonna be so sorry,’ he said, kicking her viciously on her butt.
Gina cried out as he kicked her again.
Something snapped inside Evan, a red mist descending on him. He clamped his hands on the top railing and hauled himself up like a swimmer pushing out of a pool.
Inside the room, Sonny grabbed Gina by the back of her sweater and dragged her along the floor. The sweater rolled up over her bare back, riding up at the front. It caught under her arms, halfway over her head, trapping her arms as he dragged her onto the edge of the bed, pushing her face down into the covers. She tried to fight against him but she was no match for him, every movement re-igniting the pain in her belly.
Evan bit down on his anger, barely able to breathe.
This was his plan, his fault.
He swung one leg over the rail and then the other, his feet landing silently in the thick snow.
Sonny had one hand around the back of Gina’s neck pushing her face roughly into the bed, the other one fumbling with her jeans.
‘Now we’ll have some fun while the poker gets good and hot,’ he said, his voice thick. Evan barely heard a word through the roaring in his ears. Sonny’s back was to the doors, a gun stuffed down his pants. Evan could have reached it before he knew what was happening, blown his ugly head clean off.
That was too easy, too good for him.
It had to be direct, personal contact.
More than anything he’d ever wanted before, he wanted to feel Sonny’s scrawny neck in his hands, to slowly squeeze the worthless life out of him breath by breath, feel all the little bones in his neck snap under his thumbs . . .
There wasn’t time.
He flung the doors open, took two fast strides to the fireplace and pulled the poker from the fire. It was hot, but not branding iron hot. Sonny turned as Evan crossed the room, reaching behind him, pulling out his gun. He saw the news of his death in Evan’s face, heard the sound of shovels in the dirt and faltered, his gun hand trembling.
‘Drop the gun, or—’
Sonny fired, the shaking of his hand so bad he missed by a country mile. He did it again, pulling the trigger over and over, the dry clicking of an empty gun the only sound.
On the bed, Gina moaned, struggling to extricate herself from the tangle of her sweater. Evan felt as if he’d thrust the hot poker deep into his own heart.
Sonny’s head snapped from side to side, his eyes wild, wide open with panic. His knife was still on the floor where he dropped it earlier. It didn’t matter he was a punk, a worthless sack of shit, he was young and fast. He dipped and scooped up the knife in an instant.
Gina sat up on the bed, her head finally free of her sweater, not sure who was where. Sonny threw his left arm around her head, clamping his hand over her mouth and chin. He pulled her off the bed and into his body, twisted her head to the side. He jabbed the tip of the knife into the flesh under her jaw.
She gasped in pain as he drew blood.
Evan watched the drop of blood make its way slowly down her exposed neck, feeling its progress as if it was a zipper opening up his guts.
‘Drop the poker,’ Sonny hissed. His lips were twisted into a mocking grin, the look of a man who thinks he’s got the upper hand.
It was the last time he ever had anything to smile about.
Evan roared, a barely human sound, swinging the poker in a backhand arc, taut muscles responding to the fury inside him, uncoiling all the way from the waist, putting every ounce of his weight into it. He caught Sonny on the side of the head. There was a sickening, satisfying thud as hard iron fractured bone. Sonny screamed as his jaw shattered, the most beautiful sound Evan ever heard.
The impact threw Gina out from under his arm, backwards onto the bed. Sonny’s legs gave way. He dropped to his knees, the knife slipping from his fingers. Evan buried his foot in his mid-section, lifting him clean off the ground. He caught him before he landed on his back, flipped him over his shoulder and carried him to the wide-open doors.
He stood there a long moment, the pitiful sound of Sonny’s screams like angels singing sweetly in his ear as Sonny twisted frantically on his shoulder. Then he heaved him over the balcony, arms and legs flying everywhere as he plummeted through the air. He bounced on the roof directly below and tumbled off the edge, dropping onto the one below, slid down that and fell the last long drop to the ground. He landed head first in a broken heap and lay still.
Evan turned back into the room as Gina pushed herself off the bed and straightened her sweater.
‘That was too damn close, mister,’ she said, dredging a reluctant smile up from somewhere.
‘Now you know what I felt like—’
The sound of a shotgun blast, then a hysterical scream from outside cut him short.
Chapter 20
IN THE KITCHEN, EVERYONE jumped as a body flew past the window and hit the ground with a heavy thump, a cloud of snow floating down after it.
Todd saw enough as it flashed past to recognize Sonny’s clothing. He should have shot the crazy kid and to hell with it. The pain-in-the-butt woman couldn’t have pushed him, she was too small. Her boyfriend had found a way into the hotel. Time to go, take his chances on the run.
He couldn’t risk the front door, not with the guy on the loose somewhere inside, maybe charging down the stairs at this very moment, consumed with uncontrollable rage. He’d go out the back and work his way around.
Everybody was staring at him, waiting to see what he’d do.
‘Looks like you’re on your own now,’ the chef said, his tone mocking. ‘Three down, one to go.’
Todd swung the sawed-off towards him.
‘I’d give yourself up—before he gets you too,’ Luca added. ‘It’s just a matter of time.’
‘You better hope he doesn’t find out you hurt his girl.’
‘Shut the fuck up, all of you.’
Todd backed towards the door keeping them all covered with the shotgun. He pulled it open and checked outside, saw Sonny’s broken body on the ground. He was still alive, just about, one foot twitching in the snow. If he was a dog, you’d put him out of his misery, but Todd wasn’t about to waste any time on him.
‘How’s your boy?’ the chef said. ‘Maybe he’s okay—he might have landed on his head.’
‘I told you to shut up. And he’s not my boy.’
On the floor, Emily snuggled next to her mother while she kept vigil over her husband, the comforter spread over the two of them. Todd grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away. He backed towards the door again, dragging her with him. Emily screamed. Linda jumped to her feet, forgetting all about her husband. Todd levelled the sawed-off on her chest. The sight of the two barrels pointed directly at her made her freeze for a moment. Todd backed fully out the door, Emily squirming in his grip, as he pulled it shut after him. He looked around but there was nothing to secure it with.
They hadn’t got more than ten yards when the door flew open and Linda ran out with the chef and Luca close behind.
‘Back off,’ Todd shouted.
Linda kept on coming.
He raised the shotgun and let off a shot into the air. Linda screamed as if she’d been hit.
‘You two,’ Todd called to Luca and the chef, ‘you better hold her. I’ll shoot her if she comes any closer.’
They looked at each other, then stepped forward and apart.
‘You’re going to have to shoot us all,’ the chef said.
‘And you’ve only got one shot left in that. You can’t get us all. Give it up now.’
Todd looked from one to the other, but the answer didn’t take long to work out. He jammed the barrels of the sawed-off into Emily’s small back.
‘Yeah, but I only need one for this little sweetie.’
***
EVAN AND GINA LOOKED down in horror from their balcony to the scene unfolding below.
Gina’s hand flew to her mouth.
‘He wouldn’t do it, would he?’
She looked back into the room to the gun lying on the floor.
‘The other one dropped his gun—can’t you shoot him?’
Evan shook his head.
‘It’s empty.’ He felt behind his back. ‘I’ve got another one, but it’s no good, not from up here. I might hit Emily. Or if I hit him, the shock might make the shotgun go off.’
‘We’ve got to do something.’
‘Wait here,’ Evan said and put his hand on the railing, ready to vault over.
‘What are you doing?’
‘It’s the fastest way down. With any luck he’s so distracted he won’t see me coming.’
‘And if he does? You’ll be a sitting duck.’
‘Then he won’t have any left to shoot Emily.’
And then he was gone, vaulted over the railing. It worked for Orenda hung in the cold air where he’d been a second ago, as he landed on his heels on the roof directly below, dropped to his ass and slid feet first over the edge to the next roof down, gaining momentum the whole time, the wet snow that frustrated him on the way up, now his slippery ally.
On the ground below, Todd heard the whumpf of Evan landing on each successive roof, saw the avalanche of snow thrown up by his descent. By the time he was halfway down it was big enough to partially conceal him. Todd’s concentration wavered. He raised the sawed-off towards the roof, away from Emily, taking his eyes off the people in front of him. The cloud of snow, glittering in the bright sunlight, made it difficult to see. The chef took a step forward. Luca did the same. Todd brought the gun back down, swinging it from one to the other.
He couldn’t cover all of them at once. He shoved Emily hard, sending her reeling, stumbling back towards her mother. He turned and ran. On the roof above, Evan tucked his feet under his butt as he got to the edge and launched himself at Todd’s fleeing back. One hundred and ninety-eight pounds of angry muscle and bone flew through the air with all the grace of a wrecking ball. He slammed into Todd’s back, flattening him like he’d been run over by a freight train, grinding his face into the frozen ground as the shotgun went sailing through the air.
Evan rolled off and onto his feet in one smooth action, ready for more, for anything. But it was all over. Todd lay spread-eagled on the ground, a pool of blood spreading out from his smashed nose, staining the snow bright red. Ten yards away, Sonny’s foot still twitched. Evan looked over at him and then at the sawed-off lying a few feet away.
His mind replayed the scene he’d witnessed in their room, Sonny with one hand around the back of Gina’s neck pushing her face into the bed, the other one fumbling with her jeans, the sound of her cries . . .
Without being aware of it, he took a step forward.
A hand touched his arm.
‘Don’t. He’s not worth it.’
He looked at Linda standing next to him as if he was surprised to find someone there. She kept her hand on his arm, Emily tucked into her hip on the other side, eyes wide as she stared up at him in awe.
‘You didn’t see what he did—’
‘I know.’ She gripped his arm tighter. ‘They hurt us all. But she needs you now. You won’t be any good to her stuck in jail for the next ten, twenty years. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid—I’ve got to get back inside to Scott.’ She turned her head at a sound behind them. ‘Here she is now.’
Gina came out from the kitchen and ran towards them. She looked like she’d been through hell and back. He braced himself and staggered as she landed in his arms almost as hard as he’d landed on Todd.
‘Thank God you’re okay. That was the stupidest, most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.’
He grinned and spun her around, her legs flying through the air.
‘Forget me, what about you?’
‘Well, I think I might be sick in a minute if you keep spinning me around, but apart from that, yeah, I’m okay.’
He dropped her feet to the ground and held her steady. She looked over at Sonny and shuddered. He felt it ripple through her as the grin slid off his face.
‘I wanted to shoot him lying there, but Emily’s mom—’
‘Linda.’
‘—right, Linda stopped me.’ The grin crept back. ‘Probably a good thing. But feel free to go over and kick him if you want to.’
‘I wouldn’t dirty my boots. Let’s get back inside, there’s lots to do.’
‘Good idea. You think chef is up to making breakfast? I could eat a horse.’
She laughed.
‘Don’t start all that again.’
‘Start what?’
‘Last time I heard you say that was at the steakhouse you took me to, the one outside Louisville. You know, the one where you put your business card in a jar . . . and look where that got us.’
He nodded like he’d forgotten all about it.
‘That was my last one, too. Talk about lucky.’
‘Lucky? By the way, I’m busy next time.’
He grinned knowingly.
‘We’ll see. C’mon, I’m sure I can smell bacon cooking.’
He started walking, then stopped, looked back at her. She hadn’t moved.
‘What?’
She kicked at the snow, indecision in her eyes.
‘Can I ask you something?’
The sudden seriousness of her tone made him turn all the way towards her. He nodded, thinking it was something to do with what happened in their room with Sonny. But it wasn’t about her at all.
‘You were talking in your sleep. Shouting really. Who’s Adamson?’
He’d known it would all come out at some point. So he told her all about Jack Adamson and how he might be a link back to Sarah. And how he was currently in a coma. He’d explained about Sarah’s disappearance to her early on, long before anything happened between them. She listened without interrupting.
‘And Crow?’
‘He’s a retired investigator I came across on the last investigation. He seems to have access to things on the internet other people don’t. He offered to help find Sarah.’
She was quiet for a long moment. It made him wonder if now was the right time to offer to pack their bags, bring them down from the room. She had one final question.
‘What does none so lost mean? You must have said it a hundred times in your sleep.’
This one he didn’t mind, because the answer made it sound like he wasn’t ever going to get anywhere anyway. Which was exactly how he felt.
‘It’s Crow’s warning to me. When he said he’d look into Sarah’s disappearance, he told me not to forget there are none so lost as those who won’t be found. He was managing my expectations. Telling me to prepare myself for the fact that Sarah might have run off voluntarily and doesn’t want to be found.’
She nodded as if it sounded like the sort of advice she’d be handing out if anyone asked her.
‘And have you prepared yourself?’
‘Uh-huh.’
She looked as if she’d have liked a bit more conviction, but didn’t push it. He blew a glad to get that out of the way rush of air out, feeling more drained than he had all morning. She seemed satisfied, started walking with him back towards the kitchen. Halfway there he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket as a text message came in.
‘Looks like the Wi-Fi is back up,’ he said as he pulled it from his pocket.
‘Thank God. We can call an ambulance for Scott and chef.’
He felt her stiffen slightly next to him as if he’d announced something bad instead of the good news that things were getting back to normal. Then he realized why. She was staring at the screen on his phone.
Kate Guillory.
He groaned inwardly. Just what he didn’t need less than a minute after they’d finished discussing Sarah and his—what she no doubt considered to be obsessive—attempts to find her.
‘Who’s she?’
She tried to make it sound like it was no big deal, but the tone of her voice made him feel as if he’d stripped off and was rolling in the snow.
&
nbsp; ‘A detective with the local Police Department.’
‘Right.’
One little word, so much hidden meaning.
‘Looks like your past has caught up with you.’ The attempt to lighten her tone was a move in the right direction, even if it was a little forced. ‘Aren’t you going to read it?’
‘No. I’ll read it later.’
He went to put it back in his pocket.
‘Evan! Just read it. It might be important. Maybe it’s something to do with Crow or whoever.’
He wasn’t sure if she just wanted to see what Guillory had to say. Whatever it was, he didn’t have a choice. If he refused to read it, she’d think he was trying to hide something. He opened the message.
Call me.
Some of the tension in her body eased away. Maybe she’d thought Guillory was sexting him. Somehow, he couldn’t imagine her doing that sort of thing.
Despite the absence of explicit photographs or anything equally compromising, his pulse was racing. Guillory wouldn’t ask him to contact her for no good reason. The last he’d heard she and her partner had been interviewing Floyd Gray. Had he said something to them, something he’d held back from Evan? Guillory was well aware of Evan’s situation and would pass anything useful along.
‘Aren’t you going to call her?’ Gina said.
This time he recognized the subtext immediately.
You dare call her.
‘No. It’ll wait.’
‘Good.’
They carried on walking back towards the kitchen. As they got closer, Evan had to admit to himself that the smell of bacon cooking had been in his mind and not coming out of the extractor vents. Just wishful thinking after a busy morning kicking four bad guys’ asses.
She suddenly stopped mid-stride, put her hand on his arm. A frown creased her forehead. His heart slumped.
What now for Christ’s sake?
But it wasn’t anything to do with Sarah or the text from Guillory. She’d moved on even if it was still bugging the hell out of him. It was something unsettling in a different way.
‘You said something right before you jumped.’
A sudden gust of wind whipped up, shaking loose a flurry of snow from the tree branches. But it wasn’t the wind whistling in the trees that Evan heard. Instead he heard a woman’s scream, high and lonesome and forlorn, a sound that ripped through him, laying bare his flesh and blood and bones, a voice that called to him and to him alone. Nor did he see snowflakes settling, glittering in the winter sunlight as they drifted gently earthward. No, he saw a woman’s face sinking inexorably below the icy waters of the frozen lake behind them, defiance in her dark eyes. And he knew then what Gina was going to say.
The Evan Buckley Thrillers: Books 1 - 4 (Evan Buckley Thrillers Boxsets) Page 97