No One Left to Tell

by Karen Rose

  Talking him out of leaving would be utterly futile, but she wasn’t letting him walk into an ambush alone. She swung her backpack to her shoulder. “He can’t have you either.”

  He set his jaw. “Then come. I don’t have time to argue with you.”

  She grabbed Peabody’s leash and together they followed him out.

  Thursday, April 7, 11:35 p.m.

  Paige called both Joseph and Clay. The two men were talking to each other as they separately approached, planning their coordinated assault. Grayson drove with his foot to the floor, murmuring under his breath. Praying. Paige prayed, too.

  But she also had the laptop open, because doing something kept her sane. “Your mother’s smart. She’ll do what she needs to do to keep Holly safe.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he said hoarsely.

  She had no words to comfort him, so she kept her hand on his shoulder as city roads turned to country roads. They were somewhere near the airport. She could hear a plane coming in for a landing. “The broker wasn’t on the list of ten we gave to Hyatt.”

  “What does it matter anymore? He has my mother.”

  His voice was anguished and it broke her heart. But she couldn’t let him falter now.

  “It matters because who he is will determine how we take him down. If he’s a sharpshooter, we need to know. If he’s a goddamn cage fighter or an explosives guy, we need to know that, too. Your mother’s life and Holly’s life depend on it. So do Joseph and Clay’s, not to mention ours. So get hold of yourself and think.”

  “Okay. I am thinking.” He drew a deep breath, and another. “Maybe he wasn’t the guy in the photo. Maybe the guy paying Sandoval was a flunky and we’ve been chasing mist.”

  “Maybe. But why would Sandoval have kept it? And why would he have been killed for it? Maybe the broker just doesn’t work at the firm anymore.” She opened a new browser and typed in the firm’s name and former. It yielded pages of results that meant nothing.

  Paige tapped her keyboard nervously. Her thumb brushed the touch pad and the screen jumped to the photographs she’d been studying earlier—the ones of the MAC group photos that she’d taken with Joseph’s camera pen. She started to move back to her search screen, when her finger froze at a sparkle of light.

  She was looking at the last photo she’d taken. A man’s hand, resting on another man’s shoulder. The hand was manicured. The right shape and size. “Oh my God.”

  “What?” Grayson bit out. “What?”

  “This afternoon when I went back to Reba’s, Rex’s stepfather came in as we were leaving. A lawyer was there to see him, the foundation’s attorney. But he was there because Rex called him. I snapped a picture of Rex’s stepfather because he winked at me as he was leaving. It was reflex. But I got the lawyer’s hand.”

  His chin came up. “Manicured?”

  “Yes. With a diamond pinkie ring.”

  “What was his name, Paige?” he demanded.

  “I’m thinking, dammit,” she snapped. “Stuart. Reba called him Stuart.”

  Grayson stilled. “Lippman? Stu Lippman?”

  “Yes. Do you know him?”

  “He was Bond’s assistant on the Muñoz trial. Where is his office?”

  Paige typed Lippman’s name into her search screen. “In the McCloud building. So is his condo. It’s one of the penthouse suites. We were there, Grayson. Dammit.”

  “The window. Do you remember the window? The one that was broken?”

  “You said a foul ball. Or a big bird.”

  “Or a bullet fired by Silas. Silas tried to kill him.”

  “Then he hurt Silas’s wife and abducted his child. But in Toronto? How?”

  “It’s less than an hour by private plane. We can check flight plans and manifests later. We’re almost there.” His hands gripped the wheel. “He’s going to try to kill us.”

  “I know. I have my Glock and the .357 in my boot. You have your piece?”

  “Bashears took it, but Joseph gave me one of his. Beretta nine-mil.”

  “Thirteen rounds. Between the two of us, we’ve got some firepower. If we can separate, come from front and back like we did Silas… it could work.”

  “He’s smaller than Silas. Don’t know if he’s combat trained.”

  “With those hands? I doubt it. If you can get behind him, you can take him down. But don’t kill him.” She put the laptop away, checked her guns. “Once we have everyone safe, then you can kill him.”

  “Call Joseph and Clay. Tell them.” He hesitated. “And Hyatt.”

  She stared at him in surprise. “What?”

  “We’ll do what Lippman wants and buy the time Joseph and Clay need to set up,” he said grimly. “But if the four of us fail, we still need to get the others out. Hyatt can send a team to Lippman’s condo. Maybe he has my mother and Holly there. Violet, too.”

  Thursday, April 7, 11:50 p.m.

  Grayson slowed as he approached the place his mother had told him to come to. The closest civilization was a mile back. There were lots of trees. Lots of places to hide.

  “There’s her car.” He stopped behind it, shone his headlights into the interior. It was empty. He pressed the trunk release on his mother’s spare key fob, his shoulders sagging. He’d been afraid and hopeful at once. Hopeful they’d be in the car. Afraid he’d find them dead there. He glanced down. “Inside and trunk, both empty.”

  Paige had slid to the floorboard of the Escalade by mutual agreement. They didn’t want Lippman—if that’s who was waiting for them—to know she’d come. They hoped it would increase their odds of taking him by surprise. They hoped.

  “We didn’t think they would be there.” Her voice was calm, steady, as were her dark eyes.

  “We’ve just announced our presence,” he said bitterly. Now that he was here, he questioned the wisdom of the plan that really wasn’t. He hadn’t really thought it through. He’d simply reacted. I’m going to get us all killed. “Might as well have ridden in with a stampede.”

  “We knew we were walking into an ambush,” she said, still steadily. “We’re here to play along. To buy time for your mom and Holly. And Violet. We draw him out.”

  He nodded. “And take him down.”

  “Right now there’s one of him and two of us. In ten minutes Joseph and Clay will be here and we’ll be four. I like those odds a little better. Especially since we don’t know that your mother and Holly are even here. He could have them somewhere else.”

  “I have a new appreciation for the lost-my-mind defense,” he murmured. They should wait for backup. But a lot could happen in ten minutes. He could be hurting them. And then Grayson’s heart stopped, his decision made.

  “It’s Holly.” She’d appeared on the edge of the trees, stumbling into the light from his high beams. Her hands were tied behind her, her eyes wide with terror. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “A man’s behind her. I can’t see his face. Sonofabitch.”

  “Turn off the headlights. You’re probably blinding her,” Paige said.

  He turned off the headlights and the map light. “I’ll draw him, you bring him down?”

  “He’s seen you already, so that’s how it’s got to be. When you walk toward him, keep your body sideways. With your shoulders, you’re like a broad side of a barn.”

  “I’ve got the Kevlar,” he said, more to comfort himself.

  “That’ll only protect you so much. If he’s too close, you could still be toast. Peabody and I will circle around. Take him from behind. Just like Silas. Okay?”

  He’d nearly forgotten about the dog. “Okay. Don’t die.”

  Her expression was grim. “You, too.”

  He slid out of the Escalade, turning his body sideways. He heard Paige open the door on her side the exact moment he closed his. Good timing. Let it continue. Please.

  “Let her go,” Grayson called into the darkness. He could no longer see Holly. She’d been pulled back into the trees. “She’s not who you want. I am.”

/>   “So you’ll trade?” a man called. It was the man on the phone. Who hit my mother.

  Grayson couldn’t remember how Stuart Lippman sounded. But right now, that didn’t matter. “Yes, I’ll trade. My sister and my mother for me.”

  “I want the woman, too. Holden.”

  “She was hurt earlier,” Grayson improvised. “I had to take her to the ER. Silas gave her a concussion before she shot him. They admitted her for the night.”

  “You’re lying.”

  “You can call the ER, ask them. Right now, it’s only me.” He walked toward the trees, keeping his body turned, angling his approach to force whoever held Holly to look at him and not where Paige and Peabody were running. With her black clothes and hair, she blended into the trees well. He couldn’t see them anymore. “Holly, it’ll be okay.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Smith. I want Holden, too.”

  Grayson could hear Holly’s keening cry of fear. You’ll die for that alone.

  “If you want Holden, then you’ll have to go to the hospital and get her,” Grayson said harshly. “She doesn’t know anything anyway. She’s a PI wannabe. Good fighter and good in the sack, but not a lot upstairs. If you know what I mean.”

  “She’s got enough upstairs to track down Adele Shaffer.”

  “Who?”

  “Don’t play games with me, Counselor. You’ve got her picture all over the TV. She’s a ‘person of interest.’”

  “I don’t know anything about that. I’ve been busy trying to find Crystal Jones’s killer so I can get Ramon Muñoz released from prison.”

  Grayson listened for a response and, when he heard nothing, started to move closer to the tree line. He reached under his jacket for Joseph’s gun, shoved in his waistband.

  He saw them then, Lippman and Holly. Lippman held her close, his gun at her head. Cold fury hit Grayson hard. Then he saw the glint of metal, too late. Heard the shot as all the air was shoved out of his lungs, the impact to his chest hurting far worse than the pieces of his car that had rained down on his back after Wednesday night’s bomb.

  He staggered backward, heard Holly’s horrified scream.

  “Grayson!” Holly yanked free, only to stumble when Lippman pulled her back.

  Lippman’s gun still pointed at Grayson, his expression racing from satisfaction to shock as Grayson picked himself up from the ground, then went down on one knee.

  He expected me to be dead. Sorry, pal. Not today. He’d dropped Joseph’s gun and now grabbed it, arcing it up, aiming at Lippman’s head. But if he missed, he’d hit Holly. A split second before he pulled the trigger, he heard a low growl.

  Peabody. The dog appeared out of the trees from the right, lunging, and Lippman’s scream tore through the air. Peabody dragged him backward, his teeth sunk into his arm. No longer able to hold his gun, Lippman dropped it, kicking at the dog, cursing.

  Holly yanked free again and Grayson ran toward her, not seeing Lippman’s left hand fumbling in his coat pocket until it was too late.

  A backup. Lippman had a backup gun in his pocket. Oh God.

  “Holly,” Grayson cried. “Get—”

  In a blur of black, Paige leapt, throwing herself over Holly as Lippman fired again. Two shots. At Paige’s back. Paige’s body jerked and went completely still.

  Grayson stared, horrified. “No.” He aimed at Lippman’s chest, fired three times, and Lippman went down like a rock. Grayson ran, dropping to his knees beside her, gently gathering her into his arms. Don’t be dead. “Paige.”

  “I’m not dead.” Paige rolled to look behind her, the Glock in her hand, then came to her feet so fluidly that Grayson found himself breathless once again. Relief shuddered through him as Holly still sobbed. She was breathing. They all were.

  “You’re okay? You’re both okay?” Grayson demanded.

  “Knocked the breath out me.” Paige ran to Lippman, who, although unconscious, also still breathed. She picked up both of his guns, put them in her pocket. “Peabody, release.” The dog obeyed, sitting up, waiting for his next command. “Good dog. Very good dog.”

  Grayson lifted Holly into his arms. “Are you hurt? Where are you hurt?”

  “Judy,” she cried. “The lady has Judy. She’ll kill her. I tried to run. She’ll kill her.”

  Grayson’s and Paige’s eyes met, stricken. “Which lady?” Grayson demanded.

  “She said she was a policeman. She had a badge. She said you were hurt and we should come. Then she tied us up. Made Judy get in the trunk. Then the man came. He said they would kill Judy if I tried to run. She’s gonna kill her. It’s all my fault.”

  Grayson’s heart stopped again. “Morton.”

  “Probably.” Paige knelt beside Holly, caressed her face gently. “Honey, this is not your fault. It’s not. But there’s no one in the trunk of Judy’s car. We looked.”

  Holly shook her head. “Not Judy’s car. A blue car. The police lady’s car. Over th—”

  Another shot cracked the air, had them flattening to the ground once more. Grayson hovered, trying not to crush Holly. He turned his head, saw Paige’s irate glare.

  “Sonofabitch,” she hissed. “What the hell?”

  Grayson sat up, his fury intense. “Fuck. Goddamn fuck. Morton did it again.”

  Lippman no longer breathed, a new bullet in his head. Grayson could hear someone running through the woods and he and Paige surged to their feet, ready to start to chase.

  But the roar of an engine had them stopping, looking at the road where they’d parked the Escalade behind Judy’s abandoned car. A little black Mercedes appeared from the opposite direction. It paused by their parked vehicles and four more shots rang out before it took off in the direction they’d come.

  Grayson looked over at Holly. “Did you say the police lady’s car was blue?”

  She nodded unsteadily. “Blue. W-with white stripes.”

  The black Mercedes must have belonged to Lippman, then.

  Paige had run up to the Escalade. “She shot out our tires,” she called. “Two on our car and two on your mom’s.”

  “The Mercedes is Lippman’s car,” he called back. “Morton left her car here.” Hope sprang up in his chest. “Holly says my mother is in the trunk of Morton’s blue car.”

  “I’ll go look for it. You call for help.”

  Grayson took out his cell, his hands shaking. He called 911, then Joseph. “I have Holly. My mother’s still missing. A black Mercedes coupe is headed your way. Stop the car. Detective Morton’s driving.”

  “The cop that shot Silas?” Joseph asked.

  “Yeah. She was here, helping Stuart Lippman.”

  “The broker. You got him.”

  “Yeah, but Morton killed him, too. Do we have Violet?”

  “No.”

  “Dammit. Get here as soon as you can. I’m going to look for my mom.” He hung up, then looked at Holly, who was very pale. He made himself smile, made his voice positive. For Holly. “We’ll find my mom. She’s tougher than you think.”

  Holly shuddered. “The police lady said she wouldn’t kill us. And then he came.”

  “I know.” He carried her to where she couldn’t see Lippman’s body. “I’m going to leave you for just a few minutes, to look for my mom. I don’t have a knife to cut you free, but Paige will.” He looked over his shoulder. Paige was nowhere to be seen.

  “Grayson!” The shout came from over the hill. Paige.

  He stood, his knees going weak when he saw her coming through the trees. On her right was Peabody, guarding her. Leaning against her left was a tall woman with red hair, walking stiffly, waving wearily.

  Grayson had never seen a more beautiful sight than the two of them. He ran to his mother and she grabbed him in a hard embrace that had him grunting in pain. If Lippman’s shot hadn’t cracked his ribs, his mother just had.

  She’d started to cry, her body shaking. “You said it was over,” she accused.

  “Actually I said there were loose ends,�
�� he said. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  “She was in Morton’s trunk, just like you said, Holly,” Paige said, kneeling next to Holly, sawing at her ropes with a wicked-looking folding blade. “I pried open the trunk with this knife.”

  Holly nodded, still deathly pale. “That’s a really big knife, Paige.”

  Paige folded it, handed it to her. “It’s yours. I’ll teach you how to use it.”

  Holly’s nod was unsteady. “Okay. But I never want to have to use it. Ever.”

  Paige hugged her closely. “That’s the plan, Holly. That’s always the plan.”

  The cavalry had descended, Paige thought a few minutes later. Squad cars and ambulances. Cops in SWAT gear. And finally Hyatt himself. “Everyone unharmed?”

  Judy sat on the ground, Holly in her arms. “Bumps and bruises,” Judy said.

  Grayson slid his arm around Paige, wincing. “Bruises all around.”

  Hyatt looked down at Lippman. “Who shot him?”

  “The chest shots are mine,” Grayson said.

  “Nice grouping,” Hyatt said.

  “He shot me and Paige first.” Grayson fingered the hole in his shirt, giving his mother an encouraging smile when she made a distressed noise.

  “He got me in the back,” Paige said. “And it hurts like a damn bitch.”

  Hyatt’s lips curved. “I know. But it hurts a whole lot more without the Kevlar.”

  Paige rolled her shoulder. “Yeah, I know that, too. Head shot was Morton’s.”

  Hyatt’s smile disappeared. “I see. We have Detective Morton in custody. Mr. Maynard and Mr. Carter had apparently arrived at about the same time and parked their cars across the road. They held Detective Morton until we arrived. She had Dandridge’s daughter in the trunk of her car. The child is alive. Doped up, but alive. She appears unharmed.”

  Paige’s shoulders slumped. “Thank God.”

  “The Mercedes was Lippman’s car,” Grayson said. “Morton may not have known Violet was even there.”

  “But she’s still a bitch,” Holly said stubbornly.

  “Indeed,” Hyatt agreed. “Come with me, please. All of you. I’ll make sure you get medical attention for those bumps and bruises.”

  He put them in the backseats of two cruisers, Paige, Peabody, and Grayson in one, Judy and Holly in the other. Peabody took up most of the seat, so Paige found herself almost on Grayson’s lap. She leaned her head on his shoulder, let herself relax.