Ruthless Cross

by Barbara Freethy

  He nodded, feeling a tightness in his chest. His dad walked up to him, put his hand on his shoulder, and then headed toward the far side of the warehouse.

  Flynn didn't see where he went after that as the sound of footsteps coming through the front door made him grab for Callie and push her behind him. He raised his gun once more, until he heard Savannah's voice. He blew out a breath of relief as Savannah and Wyatt walked into the room.

  "You okay, Flynn?" Savannah asked.

  "I'm fine. Did you get the guy outside?"

  "We didn't see anyone," she replied. "He must have taken off."

  "Probably when Marcus got shot." He tipped his head toward the man on the floor.

  "I'll call for an ambulance," she said, taking out her phone.

  "Looks like we have one survivor and one deceased," Wyatt said, squatting down by Victoria's body. "Beautiful woman."

  "Beautiful but deadly," he said. "Victoria was the serial killer. Marcus is her son. Apparently, she gave him up when she was a teenager, and he found her a few years ago. He's the one who killed Arthur. He thought if he copied his mother's method of murder, he'd get away with it or be able to blame it on her."

  Savannah grabbed a moving blanket off a nearby crate and pressed it against Marcus's wound.

  Marcus groaned with pain, but he was fading in and out of consciousness.

  A siren lit up the air, and a moment later, the police and paramedics responded to the scene.

  As the room filled with personnel, Flynn put his arm around Callie's shoulder. She gazed up at him with her heart in her eyes.

  "I knew you'd come for me," she said. "But I was afraid you'd be walking into a trap."

  "I had luck on my side."

  "And your father."

  "Yeah, him, too. Did you know that they were going to trade you for the painting?"

  She nodded. "I heard. They grabbed me at the hospital while I was waiting for a car."

  "I told you I would come and get you."

  "You didn't answer my text. I was just going to go home and change clothes. It was stupid. I'm sorry."

  "Don't apologize. I'm just glad you're not hurt. They sent me a photo of you lying passed out on the floor. I didn't even know if you were breathing."

  Her gaze filled with dark shadows. "I didn't know they did that. They shoved me into a van, put something against my nose, so I'd pass out. When I woke up, I was in a storage room with my hands zip-tied behind my back. I didn't know where anyone was. I managed to get free and I climbed up to the ceiling and went through the air vent."

  He looked at her in astonishment. "You did what?"

  "I was actually pretty amazed at myself," she said proudly. "I crawled through the duct, and then I dropped down onto the second-floor hallway from another vent. I was hidden behind the canvases up there." She tipped her head to the massive paintings upstairs. "I heard voices and I stayed out of sight. I couldn’t believe it was Victoria or that Marcus was her son. She was furious with him. She said he was going to ruin her. And then your dad got hauled into the room. I thought you had to be somewhere close by, but I didn't know, and I was afraid of what you'd walk into. When she looked like she was going to shoot your dad, I threw a wrench at her. Then shots were going off and people were falling. I didn't know what to do. But you were there. You were going after Victoria. You were shooting at each other. I wanted to help, but I didn't want to distract you."

  "I'm glad you didn't try."

  "I thought you were going to shoot her."

  "I wanted to. But she wanted it as well, and I couldn't give her what she wanted."

  "So, she killed herself." Callie glanced over at her body. "She died just like Arthur, but she didn't kill him."

  "No. But she killed other people. She got what she deserved. She always wanted to be famous."

  "Well, I think she might be after all this." She blew out a breath. "It's over, isn't it?"

  "I think so, yes."

  "And my mom…"

  "Is no longer a suspect," he said with a smile.

  She smiled back at him and gave him another hug. But that wasn't enough. He didn't care that his team was standing nearby. He gave her a long kiss before letting her go.

  "That's to keep me going until later," he murmured. "I have work to do here. I'm going to have Savannah take you to my place, okay?"

  "I can go home."

  "Not yet. Just let me take care of you a while longer."

  "All right. But Flynn…what should I say when they ask who was here?"

  "Tell the truth."

  She met his gaze. "About everything and everyone?"

  His lips tightened. "I don't want you to lie."

  "You let him go, Flynn."

  "We made a deal. He would help me get you back, and I would let him walk. He said he came out of the shadows to save me."

  "He tried, Flynn. He threw himself on Victoria. He took a bullet for you." She paused. "I didn't see him leave."

  "Me, either. One minute he was there…"

  "And the next minute he was gone," she finished.

  He nodded. "That's the way I remember it."

  "Flynn?" Savannah interrupted. "Damon is on his way over."

  "Good."

  "Wyatt is going to the hospital, to make sure Marcus is put under guard until we can get his statement. How can I help?"

  "Could you take Callie to my apartment? She can give her statement to you."

  "Sure."

  He let Callie go. "I'll see you soon."

  "Thanks for saving my life again."

  "You had a hand in that yourself. You really are a fighter, Callie."

  "So are you."

  It was difficult to let her out of his sight. But he had a job to do. And he intended to make sure that Marcus paid for everything that he'd done.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Callie and Savannah spent the next few hours together at Flynn's apartment. Savannah took her official statement, expressing some surprise at the fact that Flynn's father had been on the scene, but Flynn had told her to tell the truth, so she did. She rationalized that she wasn't really lying about how Sam had disappeared, because she hadn't seen him leave the building. He'd just disappeared out of sight.

  After she was done with her story, Savannah filled her in on how Flynn had received a text demanding an exchange—the painting for her—but that he'd somehow figured out where she was from the photo. Neither of them knew exactly how Flynn had determined where she was being held, but Callie had a pretty good idea that Sam's knowledge had played a role.

  "I still can't believe Flynn saw his father after so many years," Savannah said, as they settled back against the couch. "And anything you say from now on is off the record."

  "I wasn't lying before."

  "Good to know. How did Sam and Flynn end up together?"

  "You'll have to ask him that."

  Savannah smiled. "Okay, then I'll ask you another question."

  "I have a feeling I'm not going to like this one any better," she said, seeing the gleam in Savannah's eyes.

  "There's something going on between you and Flynn. That was quite a kiss at the warehouse."

  "We've gotten close," she admitted. "But…"

  "There's a but?"

  "Everything has been moving so fast. This isn't my real life. I don't get kidnapped or dodge bullets or get hit over the head. I don't chase bad guys. I'm a chef. I cook for people. I live a very ordinary life. I can't see Flynn involved with anyone ordinary. Not that I should even be thinking that way. Because we just had a…fling." She found herself feeling way too emotional at the end of that statement. "Do you want something to eat? I'm starving. I can find something to cook for us."

  "I wouldn't say no to food."

  "Although, you don't have to stay with me. I don't need a babysitter."

  "Hey, you just offered free food. I'm in," Savannah said with a grin, as she followed her into the kitchen.

  She opened Flynn's fridge, happy to find
steaks and vegetables. "We're in luck. I can definitely do something with this."

  As she set the ingredients on the counter, Savannah poured herself another mug of coffee. "I'm actually surprised Flynn has food in the house. I took him for more of a takeout guy."

  "He makes a good breakfast," she said, as she found some herbs to rub on the steaks. Then she grabbed a knife and started cutting up vegetables.

  Savannah laughed. "Interesting that you would know that."

  She gave a shrug, then added, "Flynn told me that you met at Quantico."

  "Yes, we had one of the best classes at the academy. Of course, that's my very biased opinion. Every class probably feels that way. But we formed a tight bond. Now wherever we are, whatever we're doing, we try to help each other out."

  "It must be nice to know that there's always someone who will have your back." She hadn't really had that in her life. She'd usually been the one who had some else's back. "Flynn said you were a beauty queen and an ex-soldier. I find that fascinating."

  "My journey through life has been filled with twists and turns."

  Savannah didn't elaborate, and Callie couldn't help thinking there was definitely more to Savannah's story, but she didn't seem inclined to share.

  "How is your mother?" Savannah asked, changing the subject.

  "Oh, wow." She set down the knife she'd been about to use on some red, juicy tomatoes. "I probably should call her and tell her what's happening."

  "Why don't you wait until Flynn gets back, until we know the whole story?"

  "I think I know it already, but I can wait. My mom and I had a good talk this morning, and I'm glad she's tucked away. I'm sure the press will have a field day with all this. My mom is going to have to deal with the fact that Arthur was engaged in criminal activities and that he most likely had an affair with the woman who painted his portrait. He's not the honest, ethical judge everyone thought he was. Nor was he a particularly good husband."

  "It's hard when the people you love disappoint you in such a profound way."

  "Yes, it is," she agreed, seeing more shadows in Savannah's eyes.

  "But your mother will have you to help her get through it."

  "She will. I'm just afraid of how difficult that path will be. Anyway…" She picked up the knife and finished slicing the tomatoes. Then she put a skillet on the stove to cook the steaks. It felt good to be back in the kitchen. This was her world, where she was comfortable, confident, and happy.

  As Savannah excused herself to take a call, she cooked the steaks, hoping Flynn would make it home soon.

  It felt both right and wrong to think of Flynn's townhouse as home. It was his home, not hers. And tomorrow their lives would go back to their individual realities. She would have to deal with her mom, return to work, figure out how they were going to bury Arthur, and Flynn would probably be wrapping up the case against Marcus and getting involved in whatever he was going to do next.

  Frowning, she decided not to think about all that now. She wanted to just appreciate the fact that she was alive and safe, and that Arthur's horrible, tragic murder had been solved.

  She'd just slid the steaks onto a platter to rest when she heard the garage door open, and a minute later, Flynn walked into the room.

  Her heart soared with giddy excitement, and she found herself running into his embrace. She threw her arms around his neck as they kissed. She didn't want to let him go. Maybe tomorrow she would have to, but that was tomorrow.

  Savannah's deliberate throat clearing finally broke them apart.

  She gave Savannah an embarrassed smile. "Sorry."

  "Please don't apologize," Savannah said, smiling at Flynn. "Everything okay?"

  "It will be. Thanks for staying with Callie."

  "No problem. I have her statement, and I will write it up tomorrow. It sounds like you had quite a day, Flynn."

  "You could say that. By the way, it smells really good in here."

  "That's because Callie has been cooking," Savannah said.

  "I made dinner for all of us. It's actually ready."

  "Good. I'm starving," he replied.

  "Actually, I'm not going to stay," Savannah said.

  "But you said you were hungry," she protested.

  "You don't have to run," Flynn put in.

  "I think the two of you need time together, and I have some of my own personal business to attend to. I'll talk to you tomorrow." Savannah smiled at Callie. "It was nice getting to know you better. I'm really glad you're all right."

  "Thanks." As Savannah left the kitchen, she turned to Flynn. "Are you ready to eat?"

  "In a second. How are you doing?"

  "I'm fine. But I'm curious as to what's been happening. Is Marcus going to live?"

  "He had surgery on his leg. His kneecap was shattered. But he will survive, and he will go to prison. He didn't do much talking on the way to the hospital, but there will be many more interviews to come."

  "I told Savannah everything that I heard Marcus and Victoria say to each other, but there are still some blanks, like who adopted Marcus, how did he find out Victoria was his mother, and what was he really doing with Arthur? She implied that he was a fraud and that Arthur found out, but I didn't understand exactly what that meant."

  "She told me that Marcus copied someone else's work, that he never had an original idea. He couldn't even kill someone in his own way. He had to use her method of murder."

  "She was crazy. I could hear it in her voice. I could see it in her eyes. But she hid it so well for so long, maybe her whole life. My mother thought she was a great person, not that she's necessarily the best judge of character. But look how far Victoria rose in the art world. She was running one of the biggest museums in the world. She held the career of artists in her hands with her connections to gallery owners and art dealers. She had a lot of power."

  "I think that's what it was about for her. She wanted power even more than money. But the money allowed her to do what she wanted. And anyone who got in her way went down."

  "I never thought I would say this about anyone, but I am so glad she's dead. She was pure evil. I just hope Marcus never goes free, because I think he might be the same."

  "Only not nearly as good at getting away with anything. We might not have ever caught her if it hadn't been for his bumbling mistakes and copycat crime." He took a breath. "Did you talk to your mom yet?"

  "No. I'll see her in the morning. I want to tell her everything in person."

  "Everything?" he queried, a gleam in his eyes.

  "I don't think I can keep the truth from her. It's going to come out, right? Every last sordid detail."

  "I would expect so. There will be a trial. The investigation into Arthur's life will reveal every secret."

  "That's what I think as well. I'd rather my mom know all that while she's in close contact with her doctor. Speaking of parents…I did tell Savannah that Sam was at the warehouse, that he tried to get the gun away from Victoria, and that he might have saved our lives, but in the chaos that followed, I never saw him leave. She didn't press for anything else."

  "No, she wouldn't. Others might. But I said the same thing."

  "It's true. I never saw him leave the building." She gave him a thoughtful look. "How do you feel about it, Flynn? Are you angry with yourself for letting him go?"

  "I made him a deal. Your life for his freedom. It was worth it."

  "How did you even know where I was?"

  "That was my father. On the photo Marcus sent, my dad recognized the pattern of light falling over your body as coming from a stained-glass window. He put that together with the edge of a frame by your foot and guessed you were in a former art co-op that had been used for stained-glass art classes and later as a warehouse. Apparently, my father had actually broken into the building several years ago to retrieve a painting that was in transport."

  "That's…lucky," she said slowly, in search of the right word.

  He gave her a cynical smile. "I guess you could
say that. It seemed too easy to me. I thought he might be part of it all, luring me into a trap, so that I couldn't rescue you."

  "I can see why you'd think that."

  "But he was persuasive, and my back was against the wall. I had less than two hours to find you before the meet, and the best time for me to get you out safely was before that. I had to take a leap of faith."

  "You trusted him. That must have been extremely difficult."

  "I didn't have another option. I had to save you."

  Her heart swelled with love at his words. "I wanted to save you, too, Flynn. I probably messed things up when I threw that wrench. You were about to take her down. I'm responsible for Marcus and your dad getting shot."

  "Who cares about Marcus? And my dad's injury was nothing. You had no idea I was in the building. You did what you needed to do. You created a distraction, which gave everyone a chance to escape, including yourself. I'm more than a little impressed. I guess that softball you played came in handy."

  "I can thank my dad for that. I never knew it was a skill that could save my life."

  Flynn moved forward, sliding his arms around her waist, pulling her up against his chest. She let her head rest on his shoulder for a long minute, as he kissed the top of her head, and they just held each other.

  In the circle of his arms, she felt loved, protected, safe from everything, and right now, that's exactly what she needed. She had no idea what tomorrow would bring. Actually, she was afraid of what tomorrow might bring—not in terms of the case or her mom but with Flynn. She'd fallen for him hard and fast, but it was during an adrenaline-fueled situation where they'd been spending every second together.

  "Callie, stop thinking," he said.

  She lifted her head. "How do you know I'm thinking?"

  "Because you stiffened. What are you worrying about?"

  "Nothing," she lied. "Everything is good now. We should eat dinner." She slipped out of his arms, determined not to think about the future just yet. She still had tonight, and tomorrow could wait a little longer.

  Flynn drove to his office on Wednesday morning in a bad mood. He shouldn't have been surprised Callie was gone when he woke up. In retrospect, she'd been saying goodbye to him all night. They'd made love with passion and tenderness and so much feeling that he'd felt like he'd ridden a rollercoaster upside down and backward, until he was physically and emotionally spent but also amazingly content.