“What did you say?”
The phone made the connection and rang. “JC Dimitrak. You should talk to him.”
“Why would I talk to him?”
“Because he could lock up your crazy ass” probably wasn’t the right answer. “He’ll tell you I’m seeing him. We’re dating.”
After last night that was sorta true—it better be true—but who cared at this point what she said as long as they kept talking?
And breathing.
And not shooting.
She heard the rings through the earpiece. Come on, JC. Answer the phone. Don’t go to voicemail.
The phone rang again and then JC’s voice said, “I’m busy right now. I’ll call you.”
“Nicole, put the gun down. Please.”
The voice in her ear shut up.
Nicole’s expression said she wasn’t paying the least bit of attention. Which would have been a good thing if it weren’t for the damn pistol. She’d prefer the woman be in this time zone as long as her finger was on the trigger. “Nicole, could you at least move the gun? It’s hard to drive with it in my face.”
“You’re doing great, Holly. I understand. You’re in a car. Tell me where you are.”
JC’s calm cop voice reassured her. She was terrified if she blurted out, “Come get me,” Nicole would shoot her before the cops could even turn their patrol cars in the right direction.
“Take the Kahlotus highway,” Nicole said.
“The Kahlotus highway? Why do you want to go there?” she asked.
The small sigh of relief gave JC away.
Oh God, don’t be worried. Be calm and strong for me, JC. Please.
“I’m notifying Washington Patrol,” he said. “I’ll see if Pasco has anybody near the highway.”
Nicole gave her an irritated look. “You know where we’re going.”
“Why don’t we get off here at 20th? We can get some coffee and talk this over.”
“Good job, Holly. I got it. You’re passing the college. Patrol is on the way.” She could hear him puffing, like he was running. “Franklin County’s heading in. Pasco’s sending units, too. I’m getting in my car right now.”
Nicole ignored her, but at least she’d lowered the pistol.
It still pointed at Holly’s ribs.
Maybe Nicole’s arm was getting tired. If Holly could just hold on until the police caught up…
They blew past the railroad yard on the outskirts of town. The Kahlotus exit was just ahead and she still didn’t see a single police car. For one crazy moment, she thought about crashing into the underpass. The seatbelt and airbag—did the rental have an airbag?—would protect her, but as long as Nicole had her finger on the trigger, she wasn’t going to risk a bullet to the heart.
The off-ramp looped back over the freeway. She craned her neck, hoping to see the cavalry roaring to the rescue, but all she saw were a few more econoboxes like the one she was driving plus several of the ubiquitous trucks and sport utility vehicles.
Farmland stretched to the horizon on either side of the road, flat and fallow for the winter, unrelieved by a building or people. Irrigation equipment like giant fallen Tinker Toys lay atop the brown stubble of harvested crops and along the ridges of plowed fields. Nothing for even a pheasant to hide behind, much less a desperate woman.
“What’s happening, Holly? Figure out a way to tell me. You can do it.” JC’s voice was an anchor. A lifeline.
She recognized the growing blue-and-white shrink-wrapped rolls of hay piled off to the left side of the highway, the modern version of haystacks. “Have you ever visited a dairy?” she asked Nicole. “Silverstone Dairy is a client. I’m not much into cows, but I’ve always thought those rolls of hay look like they’d be fun to play on.”
Nicole didn’t respond, but JC said, “Got it. I’m a few miles behind you.”
“How many miles?” she wanted to scream.
The crazy blonde stared out the window, focused on something, probably the voices in her head telling her to shoot the interloper—that would be me—who was after her man.
But if Nicole planned to shoot her, there were a few loose ends Holly wanted cleared up. “Do you know a guy named Lee Alders?”
Nicole remained silent, apparently still communicating with her internal chorus, but JC said, “Alders didn’t kill Marcy. He was skiing on a glacier in northern Canada this week. He didn’t know we were looking for him.”
Add ruining the best sex she’d had in years to the list of reasons she didn’t like Lee Alders.
But she already knew Alders wasn’t the killer. The killer was sitting right beside her.
“As long as we’re clearing things up,” JC said. “Frank Phalen won’t be bothering you again.”
He won’t if Nicole shoots me. Holly glanced at Nicole from the corner of her eye. Oh, God. The woman’s lips were moving.
Eyes straight ahead, she eased her hand off the steering wheel. If Nicole stayed lost in La-La Land, maybe she could grab the pistol or at least aim it in another direction. If it wasn’t pointed at her ribs, she could slam on the brakes. JC couldn’t be more than a few minutes away.
“Keep both hands on the wheel. It’s so much safer.” Nicole’s blue eyes looked baby doll innocent—and china doll vacant.
They passed a stand of paper company trees, arrow straight and planted in neat rows. Holly gave them a wistful glance. Even if she made a break for their cover, Nicole would shoot her before she unbuckled her seatbelt.
Holly watched the trees dwindle in her mirror and suddenly realized where they were headed. She’d traveled this road with Alex when they went to Big Flats.
“Uh, Nicole? Where exactly do you want to go?” She had no desire to hike across the fields at Big Flats, but at least there were trees and bushes to hide behind if she managed to get away.
“Don’t play innocent. You know. You’ve been there. And I heard you talking about the land to that guy.”
Land? What guy? She searched her memory for who Nicole could have overheard her speaking with about property. There was only one possibility. Rick.
If possible, her blood ran even colder as Nicole’s meaning sank in. Tim, or rather TNM Ventures, owned land upstream from Big Flats. The land where Marcy had probably been shot. She cleared the enormous lump in her throat. “Actually, I haven’t been to your property on the river. That is where you want to go, right?”
“They own property on the Snake?” JC’s voice.
The three-sided conversation made her feel as though she had too many voices in her own head.
His calm voice continued. “Help me narrow it d—”
Silence.
The weird silence of dead air.
Her heart stopped.
She’d lost him.
Chapter Forty-eight
JC was gone.
Holly had been dreading the inevitable call drop, praying it wouldn’t happen. Coverage was spotty away from town. But the finality of the silent, dead air in her ear pressed a constricting band around her chest that made it almost impossible to breathe.
She was on her own.
“That’s where you went with my husband. When you were sneaking around behind my back.”
She snapped her attention back to her kidnapper. “How many times do I have to tell you I am not having an affair with Tim?”
Nicole’s voice rose, shrill with agitation. “I know what you’re doing.”
“Calm down, Nicole. It’ll be okay.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
Holly shifted her gaze from the delusional woman to the business end of the pistol and back. She finally understood courage wasn’t about not being scared. It was about not letting the fear stop her from doing what needed to be done. Her hands clenched the steering wheel.
But what was the right thing to do when a crazy woman locked her in a car and pointed a gun?
She had to think clearly, keep her wits, and talk her way past Nicole.
Past he
r gun.
Past her insanity.
Only after she survived could she give in to the need to tremble and cry.
She had too much to live for. JC’s words—You’re necessary to me—came back to her. She wanted to find out what that was all about. She wanted a chance to finish what they’d started at her front door. A chance with a man who wasn’t afraid to tell her up front what he wanted.
Her.
In his life.
“Turn here.” Nicole pointed at a dirt road that looked just like the dozen other dirt roads they’d passed.
No! Holly’s instincts shrieked. Keep going!
As long as she kept driving, there would still be time. Time for the police to catch up. Time to figure out a plan. Time for JC to find her.
Nicole raised the pistol.
Holly turned onto the dirt road.
A long plume of dust followed them down the rutted lane into the vineyard. She hoped it would hang in the air long enough to show the police which road they’d taken. A few minutes later, the car jolted into an open area in front of a metal farm building.
She peered through the windshield. A vineyard marched down the slope to the river. Wires strung in an intricate pattern supported drooping leaves and grape clusters. Orchards climbed the hills behind the vineyard. How could any of it help her get out of this alive?
She cast a longing look at the building. The sliding doors of the barn were closed, probably locked tight.
For a nanosecond she thought about the action sequence from Witness—lure Nicole into the outbuilding and dump a silo’s worth of grapes on her head—but she didn’t think they stored grapes in silos, and Nicole wasn’t dumb enough to follow her into a silo.
Several vehicles were parked under the attached lean-to. She ignored the tractor and focused on the white Kia. Any chance the keys were tucked above the visor?
Wait.
Marcy had driven a Kia.
“Turn off the car.”
End of the road. She stopped the car and turned off the engine.
Now what?
Nicole grabbed the keys. The pistol never wavered.
Holly released the seatbelt and watched it retract. For a second she thought about lunging for the gun. Then reality overrode the movie moment as she visualized Nicole’s finger tightening on the trigger when she fought for control of the weapon. There wasn’t much doubt where the bullet would end up.
“Get out.” Nicole opened the passenger door and waved the pistol at her.
Out of the car would be better than in the car. Distance from Nicole—and her gun— improved the odds.
Nicole backed out of the car.
Should she try to reason with her? Jump out and run for it? And go where?
Nicole stood by the open car door, pistol at the ready. “I’m waiting.”
She sounded halfway rational, but the whole scenario was insane.
Think of something, anything to distract her.
“This is a beautiful spot. I can see why you like it.” On shaking legs, Holly strolled around the hood of the car, narrowing the distance to the vineyard and orchard. If she could keep the woman talking, she could buy some time until JC figured out where she was.
“I hate it. It’s where Tim brings his whores. But you already know that.”
“I’m sorry if Tim had a relationship with Marcy, but he’s just a client to me.” Ouch, poor word choice. “An accounting client,” she amended.
Nicole laughed, a mirthless chuckle that matched the emptiness in her eyes. “At least Marcy admitted it.”
“What happened with Marcy, anyway?”
“Tim’s had affairs before—most men do. But Marcy actually thought she could take my husband. I couldn’t let that happen. I refuse to be poor again.” Nicole waved the pistol. “Move. Down to the river.”
Holly stared at the gun. She didn’t have to ask if the woman knew how to use it. She’d seen the results up close and personal.
How long could she stall her? Arguing with a sociopath holding a lethal weapon seemed like a bad move.
Holly’s knees shook even harder. She really, really did not want to die. “Think about your baby. If you kill me, you’ll go to jail. Who’ll be around to raise it?”
“You think I want this kid? I only kept it this long because Tim was screwing around. The baby’s my insurance policy. He’ll never leave if he knows I’m knocked up.”
“Then why were you buying Plan B?” she blurted out.
“Just in case.” Nicole shrugged. “I’m already spotting. Tim will buy me a new Mercedes when I miscarry this one.” Her face shifted to her fragile female mode. “I’ll be so sad.”
Holly took a step closer to the rows of grapevines, wondering how Nicole could be so cold and heartless. “You really don’t want the baby?”
“Oh, please. Babies ruin your figure. All they do is scream and crap.”
“But…Tim said—”
Nicole snorted. “He heard what he wanted to hear. The doctors say I probably can’t carry one to term, but it’s a useful way to keep Tim in line. As long as it doesn’t go too far.”
Holly moved closer to the vineyard. “You might want to rethink that decision.” If she could really rattle her, maybe…
Nicole rolled her eyes. “Why?”
“Remember that day at the restaurant? Walt told me Tim filed divorce papers.”
Nicole’s porcelain skin flamed with fury. She shook the pistol at Holly. “You’re such a liar. How can you stand yourself? You make up shit about everyone.”
“Get out your cell phone. Call him. Ask him.”
Nicole glanced at her purse, as if she were actually thinking about it.
Holly didn’t need a second invitation. She turned on her heels and ran. She bypassed the grapevines. The long rows were a death trap. The narrow aisles would make her an easy target.
She’d almost made it to the orchard when a pistol blast shattered the silence. A tree limb exploded above her head. She dove under the sheltering branches of an apple tree. On hands and knees, she scrambled to get away. Another bullet tore the bark off a nearby tree.
She jumped to her feet and ran. Nicole screamed at her, but the words made no sense. She circled through the orchard, peering desperately through the trees as she went. Where was Nicole? She didn’t hear any yells or gunfire, only a steady thump in the distance.
Back pressed against an apple tree, she whipped her cell from her pocket. Damn. No bars. No JC. No calling in the cops to rescue her.
Okay. If the cops weren’t coming to her, she’d go to them. If she found the road, she could flag down one of the police cars that surely were prowling around out there, searching for them.
So where in the hell was the road?
The unmistakable crunch and ding of rocks pinging against a car’s undercarriage came from her left.
JC! The police!
She sprinted toward the approaching vehicle and burst from the screening trees right in front of a black Tahoe.
The SUV slid to a halt. Tim rolled down the window. Loud rock and roll poured out to greet her.
She ran toward it. “Thank God, you’re here.”
He turned off the ignition, killing the music, opened the door, and stepped out. “Holly? What are you doing here?”
“You have to stop her.” A desperate glance revealed an empty clearing, but she heard a shout in the distance.
“What are you talking about? Stop who from doing what?”
“You honestly don’t know?” She collapsed against the side of the car, trying to catch her breath. She pressed a hand to her chest, as if that would keep her heart from bursting through. “Then why are you here?”
“I came up to test the grapes. One of my buyers is making ice wine. I need to check the sugar level. Why? What’s going on?”
“Your wife has lost it. She thinks we’re having an affair.”
His jaw dropped. “What?”
“She knows about Marcy. And now she’
s using me for target practice.”
Nicole’s shouts grew louder. A bullet ricocheted off the hood of Tim’s car. He flinched and spun around. “What the hell?”
He ducked behind the Tahoe, pulling Holly with him. “Where’d Nicole get a pistol?”
“How should I know? Talk to her. She won’t shoot you.”
He peered around the back fender, then turned back to her. “Wait. Are you saying—”
She watched emotions flicker as he fought to catch up.
“Oh, my God.” Blood drained from his face.
“Yeah,” she said. “Nicole probably shot Marcy. And that SUV you’re missing? Your wife probably borrowed it. Look, I don’t care if you were having an affair. Nicole obviously had a problem with that, but you have to convince her there is nothing going on between you and me.”
He stared at her. “Let me think about this.”
“Are you kidding me?”
Turning, he jammed his fingers through his hair. “Nicole killed Marcy?”
“It sure looks that way.”
“Oh, fuck.” He paced the length of the car.
She risked a glance around the corner of the car. Nicole stood at the far side of the clearing, apparently consulting the committee in her head about her next move.
“You realize what this means.” Tim was suddenly right behind Holly, his voice an octave higher than normal.
“Yeah. It means we need to climb in your Tahoe and get the hell out of here.”
Nicole pointed the pistol at the Tahoe and fired. Glass exploded from the SUV.
“Shit,” Tim yelped. They ducked, pressing in close to the rear tire.
“Come on. Let’s go while we still can.” Holly reached for the passenger door handle.
“Not a chance. You’ll ruin everything.” Tim’s voice screeched in her ear.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” She cut him an incredulous look.
“I know you know about the loans. First thing Monday morning, you’re probably going to call the banks and tell them about the extra companies.”
Well, yeah, but she certainly wasn’t going to admit it right now. “What makes you think that?”
“It wasn’t my fault. The banks made it too easy. Everything was fine until credit just dried up. I’ll figure it out, but if you walk out of here alive, I’m screwed. You’ll send my wife to prison for murder and me to jail for a couple of bad business decisions.”
For Love of Money Page 31