by Karen Rose
Doug started marching her toward a white Jeep when Daphne caught a motion from the corner of her eye. It was the rear hatch of another black SUV, the Dodge emblem on its grille. It was parked midway between the cabin and the white Jeep. The rear hatch was opening by itself. Someone else had a key fob in their pocket.
Again Daphne scanned the faces and knew the second she locked gazes with Deacon Novak that he’d been the one to open the hatch. He lifted one snow white brow as Doug marched her past him.
Then she saw why. A blur of black leapt from the back of the Dodge, one hundred pounds of snarling Giant Schnauzer. Tasha. Deacon had brought Ford and Tasha.
The dog advanced, slowing to a deliberate prowl, blocking Doug’s path to the cars parked down the drive.
‘Call off the dog,’ Doug yelled. ‘Or I will kill it. And anyone who shoots me kills another little girl, because if I’m dead I can’t tell you where to find Pamela MacGregor.’
‘If you’re keeping Pamela at your house, Mitch,’ Joseph said, walking up behind Tasha, ‘then we’ll find her.’
Daphne didn’t know who Mitch was, but Doug did. He jerked like he’d been shocked with a live wire. ‘Keep back,’ Doug shouted. ‘I will kill this bitch.’
He began to back up, forcing Daphne to back up with him. Away from the vehicles lining the drive. This was good. The minute she drove away with him, she’d be dead. As he backed up, Tasha followed, step for step, her teeth bared in a feral growl.
Doug took a step toward Joseph’s Escalade and she realized she held the means of his escape in her hand. She threw the keys before he could stop her and they landed in the snow.
Joseph scooped them up, dropped them in his pocket. Still didn’t look at her. He kept his eyes on Doug who was vibrating with fury.
He jammed the barrel of the gun into her temple, so hard she cried out. ‘You’ll be sorry you did that, bitch.’
‘I don’t care. My son is in that SUV and you’re not touching him again.’
He pressed his forearm into her throat, making it almost impossible to breathe. From the corner of her eye she saw a wide-eyed Mark O’Hurley crouched behind his car as they passed. She’d forgotten he was there.
‘I want a car,’ Doug declared and Daphne could hear the desperation in his voice. ‘Give me those keys. Now.’
‘I can’t do that, Mitch,’ Joseph said calmly. ‘You know I can’t. Let her go and we’ll talk.’
‘We have nothing to talk about. I will kill her.’
‘And then we’ll kill you,’ Joseph said quietly. ‘Or worse maybe, in your mind, we’ll send you back to prison. You think the three years you did was hard? You try the rest of your natural days.’ He tilted his head to one side, watching. ‘Either way it goes down, who will take care of Cole?’
Doug jerked again, his chest expanding against her back as he sucked in startled breath. ‘Don’t you touch my brother.’
‘We won’t. But he’ll go into the foster system. And you’ll never see him again. Unless you cooperate. Now.’ Joseph took a step forward.
Doug stepped back two, dragging Daphne with him. ‘Shut up!’ He hit the garage’s outer wall and froze. His forearm tightened against her throat. ‘She’s yours, isn’t she, Agent Carter? This bitch is yours. Don’t even try to deny it.’ He started moving sideways, toward the door that was still open. ‘I saw you on TV. I saw how you leaped in front of bullets to save her. I saw you two last night, in her hotel room. You, holding her while she cried. Both of you half dressed. If you ever want to hold her like that again, you’ll back the fuck away. Now.’
Joseph didn’t back up. But he didn’t take any more steps forward. By the time Mitch dragged her into the garage she was seeing black spots floating in front of her eyes from lack of oxygen.
‘You want her back, Carter? You get me that car. You drive it up to this door, leave the keys in it, and every last cop clears the premises. I’ll give her back then.’
The last thing she saw before he slammed the door closed was Joseph’s face.
Doug backed them up until they were up against the wall with the window. No sniper could get a shot this way. Dammit.
He let go of her throat and she dragged in a lungful of air, gagging on the smell of death. ‘Why the cat?’ she asked him.
‘To mess with you,’ he answered, shocking her with his candor.
She was surprisingly calm. Ford was safe. Me, not so much. She was . . . terrified. But her mind was clear. My son is safe.
Doug’s mother is dead. ‘I remember your mother,’ she said quietly, then cried out when he jabbed the gun into her temple so hard she saw stars.
‘Don’t you dare mention my mother.’
‘Okay, then why are you doing this? Surely you want me to know. You went to a lot of trouble to get me here.’
‘You already know.’
‘I think I know why you think you’re mad at me.’
‘Why?’ he asked silkily.
‘Can’t tell you without using the “m” word. So this standoff will end with either me dead and you caught, or just you caught. Either way you won’t be able to gloat. If you want me to know why you’ve done all this, now would be the time.’
‘We’ll have time to talk in the car,’ he said, his tone cold.
She couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or if he really thought Joseph would let him drive away. It didn’t matter. Joseph wasn’t going to let Doug drive away.
Joseph would come up with a plan. My job is to stay calm until he does.
They’ll have cops ready to take Doug out. I have to be watching, ready to get away from him for even a fraction of a second. That’s all they’d need.
Thursday, December 5, 3.00 P.M.
Joseph paced in front of that damn garage, trying to stay in control. They’d been in there for fifteen minutes without a sound. She could be dead. He’d let Doug take her, just waltz away with her. What the hell is wrong with me?
At least Doug hadn’t gotten Daphne in his car, thanks to Tasha. The dog crouched in front of the door into the garage, every muscle tensed.
I know how you feel, girl.
Joseph stopped pacing when Deacon came to his feet, his laptop open.
‘It’s set,’ Deacon said. ‘You can watch everything from here.’
Deacon had threaded a fiber optic camera under the door and now they could see Daphne sitting on the floor of the garage, Mitch’s gun at her head. She was pale, occasionally stealing looks toward the still-open trapdoor to the bunker, and Joseph thought of her recurring nightmare – a mawing dark hole and Beckett pushing her in.
‘As long as he sits there we can’t get a bead,’ Joseph muttered.
‘McManus says Doug needs to be about four feet from the window before they can get the right angle. We can’t go through the walls. They’re concrete.’
The Wheeling detective had his sniper creds and had already positioned himself in a tree with a clear shot through the window if they could move Doug over a little bit. Joseph had also called Kate from the hotel. She was their best marksman.
‘We’ll have to try a distraction to get his attention,’ Joseph said. His cell phone buzzed in his pocket, making him hiss a startled curse. He was wound tight. But watching his woman . . . his mate . . . watching her with a gun to her head . . .
It brought back a lot of majorly bad memories and messed with his mind. And with his heart, which was beating way too fast.
He answered his phone brusquely. ‘Carter.’
‘It’s Clay. I heard about Daphne from JD. What’s happening?’
Joseph stared at Deacon’s screen. ‘He’s dragged her into the garage and is just sitting there with a gun to her head.’
‘Fuck. Just . . . fuck.’
‘What do you have, Clay?’ he asked impatiently.
‘Cole Lynch. JD says he could be a VIP to your gunman.’
Joseph abruptly straightened. ‘Where are you?’
‘In the parking garage of Daphne’s con
do unit. Security called to say that Kimberly MacGregor had signed in late this morning. We found her asleep in Daphne’s bed.’
‘Hell, Clay, how’d she get there? Who’s with her now?’
‘Paige is with her until the EMTs we called arrive. Kimberly’s not giving her any trouble at all. She got here in the black van. It’s here, in Daphne’s parking place. In the back under some blankets we found Cole Lynch, tied and gagged. He says Doug had been holding Kimberly hostage in their house. Apparently it’s got a damn bomb shelter. He discovered Kimberly, but she hit him with a shovel and stole the van. He calls Doug “Mitch”.’
‘Doug’s given name is Mitchell Douglas Roberts,’ Joseph told him.
‘Cole says the property belonged to their great-aunt Betty Douglas, so that makes sense.’
‘How’d she get in Daphne’s condo?’
‘She had Ford’s key. Kimberly told Paige she was sleeping so that she could go back and look for her sister.’
‘Did she eat her porridge and break her chair, too?’ Joseph asked bitterly.
‘No, but she had Daphne’s safe open and emptied. Alec found one of Doug’s cameras in the A/C vent and Paige found cash and jewelry in Kimberly’s purse.’
‘I wonder if that’s how Doug got his hands on Ford’s Rolex.’
‘Wouldn’t be surprised. We called the EMTs to pick her up. She’s got a high fever and the stab wound on her leg is really infected. I called JD to let him know she was here, thinking he’d want to do the arrest, but he was on his way somewhere else, so he’s sending one of the other homicide guys.’
‘Somewhere else, like where? Like the hospital for his wife’s delivery?’
‘He wishes. No, he’s on his way to Doug’s house as we speak.’
‘How?’ Joseph exploded. ‘Why didn’t he tell me he found it?’
‘Because you’d already found Doug. He didn’t want to distract you from the Daphne situation. As for how, you remember the list of stolen property Doug got from the cops? One of the guns was used in a robbery last night. Punk carrying it said he got it from a kid at his school – Cole Lynch. Cole found Doug’s stash. The sheriff got Cole’s address from the school and JD’s meeting them there now. But this is important – Cole says he thinks he knows where Pamela is being hidden inside Doug’s house. He says there’s a hidden room in the basement which was padlocked in the last few days. He’s going to show us, so as soon as the EMTs come for Kimberly, we’ll head out there too.’
‘That’s good news. But that you found Cole . . . that I might be able to leverage.’
‘Kim did,’ Clay said. ‘Once she had Cole tied up, she sent a text to Doug with a photo attachment – just like Doug had sent to her about Pamela. She had Cole’s phone in her purse. Doug hasn’t seen the message yet or he hasn’t responded for whatever reason.’
‘Okay.’ Joseph’s head was spinning with the possible ways he could use that information. ‘Do me a favor and have the kid ready to talk to his brother. It might make a difference. And, Clay, good job. Thank you.’
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Thursday, December 5, 3.15 P.M.
‘So, Doug,’ Daphne said, unable to take another second of the silence. ‘We really need to talk about your mother.’
‘Shut up. You don’t get to talk about my mother.’ He twisted his fingers in her hair and threw her to the floor.
She groaned when her head hit the concrete, pain bouncing around inside her skull. ‘Your mother misconstrued a few things.’
‘Shut. Up.’
‘I never had an affair with Hal.’
‘You laughed at her,’ Doug said fiercely. ‘Rubbed her face in your affair with her husband. You drove her to kill herself.’
‘If I had, you’d have a right to hate me.’
Doug’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re screwing with my brain.’
‘No, I’m trying to tell you the truth.’
‘Why would I believe your “truth”? You’d say anything to escape me.’
‘That’s true.’ She sat up, pressing her fingers to her temples. ‘But I think either you misunderstood your mother, or your mother misunderstood the situation. I suspect it’s a bit of both.’
He reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and pulled out a bound leather book. ‘This is the only truth I need,’ he said. He handed her the book, opened to the second to last entry. ‘Read that page and if you so much as make a smudge, I’ll gut you.’
She read the pages he’d told her to read, her heart heavy for Jane Lynch, but more for the boy who’d read these words and believed them true.
She closed the diary with a sigh. ‘I need you to know that I never laughed at your mother the way she thought I did. The night she came to see me, she accused me of having an affair with her husband. I laughed, it’s true. But it wasn’t at her pain. It was at the idea that I was having sex with anyone at all. I’d just been diagnosed with breast cancer and my husband was divorcing me on some trumped up adultery charges with someone else I hadn’t had sex with either. Ever.’
Doug’s gaze dropped to her breasts. ‘I don’t believe you.’
‘Too damn bad. Doesn’t make it any less true. I’m sorry your mother thought I was laughing at her, but I was laughing at my own misery. I’m sorry that she thought I was having an affair with Hal, I truly am. The night she came to see me, I was shocked to find out I was living in her house. I felt terrible that she thought I was the kind of woman to cheat with her husband. I left that very day. Got my own place.’
‘She killed herself the next day,’ Doug said bitterly.
‘I’m sorry that she did. But I didn’t know. I tried to tell her she was wrong about me and her husband.’
‘You’re not here to be sorry. You’re here to pay.’ He twisted and suddenly the gun that had been pressed to her temple was shoved under her chin. ‘My mother shot herself in the head. Once I get out of here, you’ll know exactly how she felt.’
Thursday, December 5, 3.25 P.M.
Joseph stared at Deacon’s laptop screen. Mitch, Doug, whatever the hell he called himself, was a dead man. Joseph had wanted to run in and strangle him with his bare hands when he’d slammed Daphne’s head into the floor.
‘Deacon,’ he said, his voice strained. ‘What’s McManus waiting for?’
‘A clear shot,’ Deacon said grimly. ‘He’d almost need to hang from the roof and shoot down to get Doug in his sight.’
‘Then tell him to do that,’ Joseph snapped.
‘I will,’ Deacon said calmly. He drew a breath and Joseph angled his head so that he stared the younger man in the eye.
‘Don’t,’ Joseph warned.
‘What? Tell you to calm down? Wouldn’t think of it. I was going to suggest we call Clay. Tell him to get the kid to talk to his brother.’
‘I was waiting until McManus had a clear shot,’ Joseph said, his patience strained. ‘I’m saving the kid to throw him off balance.’
‘I’ll tell McManus to figure something out.’
‘I’ll tell Clay to prepare the kid.’ Joseph took his cell phone from his pocket, ready to dial, but it vibrated in his hand, startling him. Caller ID said it was Kate Coppola. Expert marksman. Maybe she could get the shot that McManus could not. ‘Where the hell are you?’
‘Coming up the drive to the cabin. Thought you should know that I stopped to pick something up. You’ll never guess who I just found climbing out of a white Jeep and trying to walk down the road on his own.’
‘Who?’
‘Hal Lynch.’
‘What? What the hell is he doing here?’
‘He’s not talking. But his shirt’s covered in blood that doesn’t appear to be his.’
Thursday, December 5, 3.25 P.M.
Daphne was scared out of her mind. Keep it together, just a little longer. Because as long as Doug was in the garage, he wasn’t near her son.
‘Did you know that my brother found her body? He was five.’
‘That was a selfish
thing for your mother to do.’ She winced when Doug shoved the gun harder up under her chin. ‘You’re angry and you have a right to be. But if your mother was so keen on ending her life, she should have done it away from her five-year-old. She was selfish.’
A muscle ticked in his jaw. ‘You drove her to it.’
Goad him, push him, but stay in control. ‘I most certainly did not. Even if everything she said about me was true, I did not put a gun in her hand. She pulled the trigger, knowing her son would find her. What kind of mother does that? Tell me that.’
‘One in pain.’
‘No. Not true. My husband cheated on me every day for twelve years. Did you see me trying to kill myself? No! I got cancer, Doug. I was sick and scared and alone and in pain, but did you see me putting a gun to my head, knowing my son would find me? No! I fought to live. I fought to raise my son, to see him grow up. If your mother didn’t do the same, then I’m sorry for you, but I will not accept the blame for her suicide.’ Her eyes blazed at him. ‘I will not.’
Think, Daphne. Pretend like you’re in court and he’s just another witness on the stand. See the crime scene through his eyes. What did he experience?
‘Your little brother found her. Where were you?’
‘Iraq,’ Doug said tightly.
‘Oh. I see. It must have taken you a while to get home.’
‘A week,’ Doug said.
‘Who cleaned up the mess?’ she asked and watched his face flatten in surprise.
‘I did.’
‘I’ve seen photos of suicide scenes. Never had to clean one up. That must have been rough on you. Especially since it was your mother. You obviously loved her.’
He swallowed hard. Under her chin he bobbled the gun a fraction before jabbing it hard against her once again. ‘I did. But she was sad. All the time. She drank.’ He snarled. ‘Because of you.’
‘Did you see her drink?’
‘No. She told me she never wanted Cole to see her drink.’
‘It must be hard to reconcile that woman with the one who could let her son see her brains and blood sprayed all over.’ He flinched and Daphne knew she’d hit a nerve.