Bronze: A Romantic Suspense Novel (Blackwood Elements Book 8)

by Elise Noble

  Aurelie was on my side? I was literally the worst judge of character in the history of the world. And now Russell was dying because of my past mistakes. Mine. As if he knew what I was thinking, he let out a groan that made every hair stand up. Was this the end?

  “It’s okay. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

  Blood seeped from underneath him now, spreading across the floor and soaking into my gaping bathrobe. Damn Michael. Damn him to hell! If I could’ve gone back and killed him again, I would have.

  The slap, slap, slap of running feet sounded on the tile outside, and a black man I’d never seen before skidded into the bedroom, carrying a green bag with a white cross on the side. Was this Glenn?

  “Is that the wound under your hand? Keep the pressure on while I check his vitals, okay?”

  Thank goodness. Somebody who knew more about first aid than me was there, which meant Russell at least stood a chance.

  “He got shot.”

  “Just the once?”

  How could he stay so calm? “Yes, just once.”

  “We’ve got a pulse. Not as strong as I’d like, but it’s there. Just keep pressing, sweetheart, that’s it. I’m going to check a few more things.”

  It was as if it wasn’t really me in that room, watching my worst nightmares come true. The man I loved, lying on the floor, barely breathing. The hiss as Glenn stuck a huge needle between Russell’s ribs and let the air escape from his chest cavity. The blood, so much blood. I squeezed Russell’s hand, telling him I loved him, telling him I was still there and I’d never leave him. Could he hear me? Could he hear my lie?

  “You really need to go,” Aurelie said. “There’s a dead body in the bedroom, and the police are gonna come.”

  I shook my head.

  “You can take my car. It’s parked by the staff block. Or a jet ski?”

  “I can’t.”

  “What about a boat? I could call someone to help.”

  At the mention of help, another disjointed memory surfaced and my heart stuttered. “Michael said he had somebody watching my parents.” I felt faint, fuzzy, but when I tried to suck in air, I couldn’t breathe. “I need to get to them, but…but…”

  “I’ll call Blackwood, I promise. They’ll know what to do. But please, please leave now.”

  “I can’t.”

  If one more minute with Russell was all I had left, then I’d take it, no matter how bad the consequences would be. Tears rolled down my cheeks and splashed onto the tiles, and as I shivered, Aurelie wrapped an arm around me, offering support as she murmured quietly into the phone. Her kindness only made me cry harder.

  “Please be okay,” I whispered to Russell.

  The ambulance arrived, and with it came a horde of my former colleagues. I even recognised a couple of them. When the EMTs lifted Russell onto a stretcher, more blood dripped onto the floor, and my knees buckled. Akeem caught me.

  “Sorry, sorry, sorry. We tried to stop the cops from coming, but the moment they heard the word ‘gunshot’…”

  “Don’t worry, I understand.”

  “It’ll be okay,” he muttered.

  How? How would it be okay?

  “Kylie Nichols?” one of the cops said. “I’m arresting you for the murder of Jasper John and…” He glanced across at Michael, but there wasn’t much left that was recognisable. “And, uh, someone else.”

  I tried to follow after Russell, but the cop pulled me back. The click of him handcuffing me barely registered. All I could think about was Russell and how I’d destroyed not only my own life but his as well. The room, the people, the endless voices—they all blurred as I let myself fall into the abyss.

  CHAPTER 17 - RUSS

  WHAT THE HECK happened? Russell Weisz felt as though he’d been hit in the chest by a bus. A double-decker, no less. Had he? So many ugly scenes had run through his mind over the past… How long had it been? It felt like years.

  Bright red buses on a London street, splashing through puddles of blood after another terrorist attack. So real, so vivid. A fight with his brother in a tiny window-less bathroom set amidst bodies piled high in the desert. And worst—by far the worst—a madman shooting him and then doing the same to Kylie.

  Kylie. Where was Kylie? He tried to open his eyes, but they didn’t want to cooperate. Every breath was a struggle, a desperate attempt to suck in air despite the agony. And what was that bloody beeping?

  Russell listened, trying to work out where he was. Not at the resort, he was certain of that. The villa smelled of frangipani and coffee and that vanilla stuff Kylie used in the shower, but this place had a hint of the medicinal about it.

  He tried again with the eyes. Got one open. White. Everything was white except for the blurry figure sitting on the other side of the room with a laptop. Was that him? Was this some sort of strange out-of-body experience?

  “Welcome back, mate.”

  Russell recognised that voice, but where from? Not Australia. Not London, although the accent was British. Virginia? Yes, he’d heard it in Virginia.

  “Luke?” he tried to say, but it came out as a croak. “Luke?” Better.

  Luke was one of Emmy Black’s tech gurus. Russell had met him at Riverley, and they’d had a few lively discussions over beers when everyone else had gone to bed. Luke knew his stuff, and if there was anyone from the US that Russell was glad to see, it was him.

  “Don’t try to move. I’ll get the nurse.”

  “Nurse? What…” A cough. His mouth was drier than the Sahara. “What happened?”

  “You got shot.”

  Shot? Shot? Oh, fuck. It hadn’t been a dream. It was true!

  “Kylie… Where’s Kylie?”

  Russell tried to get out of bed, but Luke shoved the laptop to one side and gently pushed him back down. “Easy, buddy. Stay still. Kylie’s…she’s okay.”

  “Where is she? Is she hurt?”

  Geez, every inhale felt like breathing in fire.

  “She’s safe. Stay still, okay? I’ll get the nurse.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “Apparently, I’m on vacation.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Russell had been poked and prodded, had his vital signs checked, and gotten a stern lecture from the doctor on the risks of playing hero. But none of them would answer his questions. Where was his girlfriend? And the bastard who shot him?

  Finally, the medical team trooped out, and ten seconds later, a shadow slipped into the room, wraith-like. Mimi Tran. Russell let out a groan, because wasn’t this day bad enough already? Kylie wasn’t fond of the woman, and quite frankly, she made Russell very nervous.

  But maybe he’d finally get some answers now?

  “Where’s Kylie?” he asked for what seemed like the hundredth time.

  “Jail,” Mimi said simply.

  Russell took it all back. He’d rather have stuck with not knowing.

  “And Michael Brenner?”

  “Dead.”

  Dead? “How?”

  “Kylie killed him.”

  “She what?”

  “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

  “How? How did she kill him?”

  “After he shot you, she whacked him over the head with some sort of ornament and just kept going. They had to identify him via fingerprints. Aurelie tried to get her out of the villa before the cops came, but she refused to leave you.” Mimi rolled her eyes as if such sentimentality didn’t exist in her world. “So now she’s in solitary for her own protection.”

  Solitary? Solitary confinement would destroy her. Now that Russell had got to know Kylie better, he’d begun to understand what a toll her time alone had taken.

  “We need to get her out of there. Does she have a lawyer? I’ll hire her a lawyer.”

  “You think we’re not trying? We’ve already sent a lawyer in. Kylie asks after you and her parents, but apart from that, she just told him to thank us for our help and to inform us it’s better we forget about her now
.”

  That obviously wasn’t an option. “Can I speak to her? Call her somehow?”

  “She’s not taking calls.”

  Oh, Kylie. Sweet, stubborn Kylie. “How are her parents holding up?”

  “As well as can be expected. Brenner apparently told her an associate was holding them hostage, but when our team got there, her mother was baking a cake and her father was gardening. We’ve got someone with them just in case, but Brenner was most likely bluffing. Mulhearn’s on the run, and the rest of Brenner’s network’s either arrested or dead.”

  “What have the police charged Kylie with?”

  “At the moment? Two counts of murder, reckless conduct endangering life and evading police for the motorcycle chase, and possession of an unlicensed firearm.”

  “That’s all bull. And you were the one in control of the motorcycle.”

  “You know that and I know that…”

  “You should come clean.”

  Mimi just laughed. “Give the lawyer a chance. We can get rid of the motorcycle issue, easy. Shane stole a bike to chase us, and at no point did he identify himself as a police officer. Anyone would try to get away if they feared for their fucking life, and I didn’t even run any red lights. We can probably get them to drop the Michael shit too. Kylie clearly acted in self-defence.”

  “Which leaves us with our original problem,” Luke said. “The murder of Jasper John.”

  Back to square one, except with higher stakes since Kylie was locked away. Russell tried to sit up again, but his muscles wouldn’t cooperate. Had they drugged him or something?

  “I need to get out of here.”

  Mimi laughed. “That’s funny. They just dug a bullet out of your rib and sewed your chest back together, dude. You’re not going anywhere. Do you want your lung to collapse again?”

  “But—”

  “Forget it. Luke’s going to sit here with you while he works, and we’ll keep you updated on the other stuff. Get some sleep, okay?”

  Sleep? How could he sleep? He’d had quite enough rest while he was unconscious. When the door to the private room clicked shut behind Mimi, he tried to shuffle up the bed, but it felt as though someone was sawing his ribcage in half.

  “There’s an easier way to do that.”

  Luke picked up a remote control and aimed it at the bed. Slowly, the top end raised, letting Russell get a better look at the room. White walls, grey carpet, two mint-green chairs, and one of those wheeled tables that fitted over the bed. Nobody had sent flowers.

  “High enough?” Luke asked.

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you need more painkillers?”

  “It’s okay as long as I don’t move.” Or breathe.

  “If it’s any consolation, the docs say you were lucky.”

  “Lucky? Then we’ve got a very different idea of luck.”

  “Brenner shot you with his service pistol. Forty calibre. It nicked a front rib, went through the edge of your lung, and lodged in another rib at the back. There’s not a lot left of that one, by all accounts. But a couple of inches higher or lower…”

  Okay, okay, he got the message. “Can we…?” Geez, it hurt to talk. “Can we focus on the problem at hand? What’s happening with the case? How long have I been out?”

  “About two days. It’s Thursday afternoon.”

  Two days? Fuck. Russell screwed his eyes shut, trying to remember everything that had happened on Monday, but apart from a vivid picture of Brenner pointing a gun at him, it was hazy.

  “I’ve got a headache.”

  “I’m not surprised. You’ve also got a concussion. Brenner knocked you out first, but then you came round and tried to save Kylie.”

  “I didn’t do a very good job of it, did I? My laptops… What happened to my laptops?”

  Did the police have them? Russell’s own machines were encrypted and had a kill switch that would wipe the hard drives if someone tried to force their way in, but Brenner’s laptop was halfway open now. Right before the man arrived, Russell had been digging around in his bank accounts.

  “I’ve got them. Akeem cleared them out of the villa before the old bill arrived.”

  “Give that man a pat on the back.”

  “And his boyfriend too. It was him who stopped you from drowning in your own blood.”

  Sheesh. It’d been a close call, hadn’t it? But Russell couldn’t afford to dwell on that, not when Kylie was sitting by herself in a cell. He’d heal physically, but if he didn’t get her out fast, she’d be left with deeper scars than his.

  “I’ll send him a crate of beer. Hell, I’ll buy him a brewery. Can you put one of my laptops on the table here?”

  “You’re not seriously considering working?”

  “Just do it, would you?”

  Luke sighed but got to his feet. A kindred spirit, thank goodness. If the positions had been reversed, Luke would be doing exactly the same, which was to say whatever it took to get the girl he loved out of jail. Yes, Russell loved Kylie. He’d been halfway there before he even kissed her, and now that he’d had a taste of those lips, there was no going back.

  Only forward.

  The laptops were in a bag beside Luke, three sleek silver machines and Brenner’s clunky black box. Luke pulled one of the good ones out.

  “Any preferences?”

  “They’re all the same, and they sync together.”

  “Good setup. Nice encryption, by the way. I took a look at one of them last night, and it almost tripped me up.”

  “You didn’t fry it, did you?”

  “No, I backed off. What’s the plan? Where did you get to?”

  “We were trying to find leverage over Brenner. I got as far as moving his ill-gotten gains into an offshore account, but that doesn’t really matter now. Since I got here, the original case has been on the back burner while we focused on the asshole’s more recent crimes. I guess we figured that if we brought him down for those, we could go back and clear Kylie’s name afterwards.”

  “So let’s start. What should we look at first?”

  They had the police files, Kylie’s memories, and Brenner’s laptop. Kylie’s memories weren’t evidence, and from what Russell had seen on Michael’s hard drive, he was unlikely to have left a confession on there. The guy was pretty careful when it came to stuff like that. There was no mention of drugs or underworld contacts, and his calendar was written mostly in code. On the day of Jasper John’s murder, Michael had left himself a reminder to take out the trash, and that was it.

  “The police files. Let’s start with the police files.”

  CHAPTER 18 - RUSS

  THE PROBLEM WITH looking at the police files was that Russell felt more at home in cyberspace than the real world. He wasn’t a detective, and he almost vomited at the sight of the autopsy pictures. Then regretted it because when the gag reflex hit, it felt like he was bringing up a lung. He’d avoided that part of the report when he downloaded it previously, and with good reason it seemed.

  “What are we even looking for?” Luke asked.

  “Buggered if I know.”

  The door cracked open, and a bunch of chrysanthemums poked through the gap. A florist? No, Leyton.

  “What’s with the bouquet?” Luke asked. “And the fruit basket?”

  “Akeem sent them. He wanted to come himself, but he’s busy supervising the cleaning crew in Emmy’s villa. Apparently, the blood’s stained the tile and they might have to replace the whole floor.”

  Another flashback hit, this time of Brenner’s finger twitching on the trigger. Russell grimaced on instinct as he imagined himself lying in the bedroom doorway, sticky red blood pooling around him as Kylie acted to save both of their lives.

  “Shit, sorry,” Leyton said. “That was insensitive. I’m no good at the hearts and flowers thing.”

  Russell attempted a smile. “I’m sure Akeem can train you.”

  “I guess. How’re you feeling?”

  “Like I got flattened by a tank
, but the doctor said that’s normal. Have you seen Kylie? Is she okay?”

  Leyton shook his head. “The only person allowed in is the lawyer. Kylie tried to send him away and use a public defender instead, but our guy told her he’d been hired to represent her no matter what, so if she wouldn’t speak to him, he’d just sit outside in the hallway until she changed her mind.”

  “Good. I’ll cover his bills.”

  “You’ll have to talk to Mimi about that.”

  “Mimi? Why Mimi?”

  “Because she’s the one who hired him, and she is pissed. I’m keeping out of her way at the moment.”

  “She’s upset with you?”

  “Me, herself, the QPS, security at the hotel, the Feds… The list is endless.”

  “Why’s she upset with you?”

  “Because…” Leyton closed his eyes for a second, then scrubbed a hand through already messy hair. He looked more exhausted than Russell felt. “Because it was me Brenner tracked to find you at the resort. He told Kylie.”

  What? “He followed you?”

  “Didn’t have to. Once he worked out I was involved, he just zeroed in on my phone. As a cop, he had access to tracking data, and nobody at the QPS thought to shut it off after he went rogue. I’m sorry, mate. I don’t know what else to say.”

  Russell hadn’t even considered how Brenner had found them, which said a lot about his abilities as a detective. For a second, he felt angry at Leyton too because working these things out was his job, but he quickly forced that prickly little ball of animosity out of the picture where it belonged. Perhaps with a crystal ball, they could have foreseen Brenner coming for Kylie, but he should’ve been halfway to Kuala Lumpur by that point. Getting upset with Leyton wouldn’t further Kylie’s cause in the slightest.

  “What’s done is done. I’ll live, but it won’t be much of a life if Kylie’s stuck in prison.”

  Leyton’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “I thought all that marriage stuff was just a pretence.”

  “It was, and then it wasn’t.”

  The two men stared at Russell.