Deadly Melody

by Connie Mann

  Without giving herself time to change her mind, she clutched her violin and sprinted across the street, nearly getting hit by a pickup for her trouble. She didn’t stop until she reached the dark sedan with tinted windows. She knocked on the driver’s side window.

  When it slid down about two inches, Cat asked, “Do you work for Mr. Garcia?”

  The top of the head nodded.

  “I need to speak with him. Will you tell me how to get to his place?”

  “One moment.” The window glided all the way up, and Cat felt ridiculous standing in the street beside a parked car.

  Sixty seconds later, the window eased partway down, and dark hair and eyes appeared in the opening. “Follow me.”

  Cat pointed over her shoulder. “Let me get my car.” She took off running, quickly put her violin in the trunk, and then sped after the other car. She wouldn’t risk them disappearing.

  With every mile, she wondered if she’d made the biggest mistake of her life. Then she’d think of Blaze and renew her determination.

  Whatever it took.

  Blaze couldn’t stop thinking about Teddy. She woke up from her nap and realized she’d been dreaming about him yet again. In the dream, he’d been trying to tell her something, but the words didn’t make sense. She kept trying to get to him, but he kept moving farther and farther away.

  She swiped at her cheeks, annoyed at the tears sliding down her face. Something had clearly been bugging him the last few days before he died. He’d been acting so weird. No, not weird. Scared.

  She remembered the day he’d shown up to biology class late, which wasn’t like him. He was always early and always prepared. Said it made him feel more in control that way. But that day, he’d raced in, earning a raised eyebrow from the teacher, and slipped into a seat at the back of the room. Not his usual spot at all.

  When Blaze asked him about it after class, he tried to brush it off, but she wasn’t buying it. “Where were you?”

  “I had to drop something off at the police station for my dad. His company sponsors the Little League team Chief Monroe coaches.”

  “Okaaay? So why are you pale and your hands shaking?”

  He shoved them in his pockets and wouldn’t meet her eyes. “It’s all good. I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine, Teddy.”

  He turned on her. “Just leave it alone for once, OK, Blaze? Stop badgering me.”

  Blaze held up both hands, palms out. “Whoa. I was just asking because you look freaked out. Sorry for caring.” She stormed off, hurt.

  He caught up with her halfway down the hall. “I’m sorry. I’m being a jerk. Just a lot on my mind.”

  Blaze studied him. “Did you finally tell him no?”

  Teddy swallowed hard. “Not yet, but I will.”

  Blaze had heard that before. Every day for a week. “When exactly?”

  They stared each other down. Finally Teddy looked away and muttered, “Today.”

  “I’m going to hold you to it.”

  He smiled then, that beautiful smile that melted her insides. “I know you will. See you later.”

  Thinking about that day, Blaze swiped at more tears, scanning her prison from underneath the edge of the awful hood. She thought of Teddy’s smile, but more than that, she tried to figure out what had shaken him up so badly. If he hadn’t told Varga no already, then what was he so afraid of?

  It made no sense. But it definitely meant something. She just had to figure out what.

  Cat followed the sleek black car south for about thirty minutes, trying to keep from hyperventilating by studying the landscape. Just as by her uncle’s place, this area sported mangroves, seagrass, marshland, and rivers that dumped into the Gulf. Farther south, the shoreline changed to the stereotypical beachfront that attracted tourists by the planeload.

  They left the two-lane highway heading west, and Cat tried to figure out what she’d say to Garcia after fourteen years. Nothing came to mind except shaking her fist and shouting, “Let Blaze go!” the way Charlton Heston had shouted, “Let my people go,” in the classic movie The Ten Commandments.

  Though that was the crux of the matter, she probably shouldn’t lead with that. Smarter to see what information she could get out of him. Maybe even find out who killed Teddy. She snorted at her own wishful thinking.

  She had to stay focused. There was only one goal: to get Blaze away from Garcia.

  Despite her fear, her eyes widened as they approached the coastal mansion, this one twice the size of her uncle’s. Built in a Mediterranean style, it sported warm colors and a red barrel-tile roof, the grounds surrounded by an imposing wrought-iron gate meant to intimidate.

  Cat gripped the steering wheel as the gates swung open. No turning back now. She followed the black car around to the side of the house where the driver indicated she should pull into the detached garage.

  Her heart pounded faster. No one would be able to see her car. But it didn’t matter. Now wasn’t the time to wimp out. This is what she’d planned all along. She’d get Blaze out of here. No matter what.

  She grabbed the satchel of money and followed the man to a side door of the mansion. Beyond her, the Gulf sparkled in the sunlight, and closer in, the water of an infinity pool stood like a shimmering beacon. Whoever had built this place hadn’t spared any expense.

  Garcia’s henchman pointed for her to precede him. He was built like a tank, and didn’t even try to hide the shoulder holster he wore beneath his black suit. His eyes held no emotion, and his black hair was slicked back from a broad forehead.

  She felt an odd sense of déjà vu as she was led down a long hallway. Unlike her uncle’s place, though, most of the doors here stood open, showcasing stunning views and heavily carved furniture.

  The man opened a door, waited until Cat stepped through, then closed it and leaned against it, hands clasped in front of him. She assumed he’d been told to make sure she didn’t try to make a break for it or something.

  As at her uncle’s, Cat wandered to the wall of windows, checking to see if there were neighbors close by. If there were, she couldn’t tell, what with all the tropical landscaping. Beyond the house, an impressive yacht was tied to the dock. Satchel in hand, she circled the room, trying to act casual as she searched for hidden cameras. Her hands wanted to tremble, but she refused to press them to her churning stomach. Never let them see you sweat.

  Cat’s tension was wound tighter than her violin strings by the time a side door opened and Carlos Garcia strode through the door. Cat turned, mouth dry as she came face-to-face with the man who had killed Daniel all those years ago.

  She was sure sparks shot from her eyes, but she didn’t care. This man was a murderer. Anger boiled inside her, searching for release. Knowing she’d never be able to get justice for Daniel, not the way he deserved, made her want to scream and kick and pound this monster to a pulp—right before Nick dragged him away in handcuffs. But none of that was going to happen. Garcia’s smug expression said he knew it, too.

  Cat forced the anger down deep. She couldn’t help Daniel right now, but she could help Blaze. She could not lose sight of that. Freeing Blaze—at whatever the cost—was why she’d come.

  He crossed to stand in front of her, tried to kiss her cheek, but she pulled away. He simply raised an eyebrow in response. “Hello, Catharine. It has been a long time since I’ve seen your lovely face.”

  As he looked her over in the same slimy way he had fourteen years ago, Cat’s skin crawled. He’d clearly wanted to do more than look back then. And now, the way his eyes lingered on her breasts said he still did. She folded her arms over her chest to block his view, and his eyes eventually returned to her face. His smile chilled her to the bone.

  He sat behind a desk the size of a barge and waved her into a seat across from him while he studied her like a painting on display. The possessive look in his dark eyes was pure evil. She tucked her hands under her thighs so he wouldn’t see them shake. This was the man her uncle expect
ed her to meekly give herself to?

  No. Not if there was another way to free Blaze.

  She took a deep breath. Help me, Jesus.

  “What brings you here, Catharine? Have you come to fulfill your part of the bargain?”

  Had her uncle told Garcia of the deal she’d made? That didn’t make sense. Everything she knew and had read said they were business rivals. They worked together but didn’t like each other. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What bargain?”

  He threw his head back and laughed, his meaty jowls shaking. “Your sense of humor is delightful. We are going to have such fun together, you and I.”

  Cat swallowed the bile that rose in her throat and bit the inside of her cheek to keep the vehement denials inside. She had to play this smart. Narrowing her eyes, she let a small smile play around her mouth and wagged a finger at him. “Have you and my uncle been talking about me again?”

  His smile vanished. “Your uncle has an outstanding debt to me, and make no mistake, it will be paid.”

  Cat kept up her innocent act. “You will have to take that up with him, then. It has nothing to do with me.”

  “It has everything to do with you,” he snapped.

  Cat waited, unsure what to say next. She watched Garcia visibly calm himself, then he said, “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this afternoon, Catharine?”

  Cat kept her voice smooth and calm. “I have a proposition for you.”

  He arched a brow, smiling. “Oh? I am all ears.”

  After grabbing the bag from beside her chair, she lifted it, then set it back down. “I believe you are holding Blaze.”

  “Who is this Blaze?”

  “Please. You know exactly who she is. She’s the Martinellis’ newest foster child. I’d like you to release her.”

  “Assuming I had her, which I don’t, why are you so interested in her? What’s she to you?”

  Cat chose her words carefully. She shrugged. “She’s just a kid, but Rosa Martinelli wants her back. Knowing she lost a child already, I thought I could help.”

  “And what’s in it for me?”

  “Fifty thousand dollars.”

  Garcia whistled through his teeth. “That’s a lot of money. Where would a girl like you get such a sum?”

  “That would be my business, wouldn’t it?”

  Garcia narrowed his eyes, then sat back and laughed. “You are delightful, Catharine. I admire your spirit, even though you are very foolish.”

  He paused, studied her.

  Her heart pounded in her chest. Please, just take the money.

  He glanced over her shoulder to where his henchman waited by the door and nodded. Then he looked back at her.

  “Wang should not have sent you to try to buy me off, certainly not with so paltry a sum. His debt is greater than that, especially after his deception in pretending you were dead all these years.”

  Cat’s stomach dropped. She had to get this conversation back on track. Fast. She squared her shoulders. “My uncle didn’t send me. This is between you and me.”

  “Do not insult my intelligence. Where else would you have gotten that much money?” He leaned closer, eyes flashing. “Did he think I wouldn’t know there is a tracking device in the bag?”

  Oh God. I should have thought of that. She jumped up. “No. He has nothing to do with this. He doesn’t even know I’m here.”

  “If that is true, then you are even more foolish than I thought.” He motioned to the man. “Manuel, take her away.”

  “What? No!”

  She whirled around, just in time to see Manuel make a grab for her. Dodging his hand, she spun out with a kick that clipped his chin and knocked him backward. He stumbled, then righted himself and came at her again.

  “Stay away from me,” she hissed, whirling, using her legs to keep him away. All those years of capoeira had not been in vain. She kicked and spun, knocking him back, again and again, every time he got close. Eventually, he started tiring, but she didn’t let up.

  “Enough,” Garcia said, and Cat looked over to see a gun aimed at her chest. “You will calm yourself, or you’ll die where you stand.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” Cat snarled.

  He smiled. “I do like a spitfire in my bed.”

  Revulsion swirled in her stomach, and she clenched her teeth so she wouldn’t throw up. She took a deep breath, then held up both palms in surrender. “You have no reason to hold Blaze. Let her go, take the money.” She swallowed. “And I’ll stay.”

  He studied her, then chuckled. “You foolish girl. You still think you have a say, or any measure of control here. I make the rules.”

  Manuel grabbed her from behind, and Cat felt the bite of a zip tie around her wrists.

  Garcia lowered the gun. “I’ll consider the money a down payment from your uncle. Blaze will stay here.” He indicated the door. “And I’ll look forward to enjoying your fire—and hers—in my bedroom.”

  “No! Let her go, please. She has no part in this.” Cat wasn’t afraid to beg, if that’s what it took.

  “My men grabbed her by mistake, but their stupidity worked in my favor, since it brought you here, too. The fact that her ultimate death will cause pain for your family is simply a nice bonus.”

  Cat froze at his words. Oh, sweet Jesus, no.

  Garcia nodded toward Manuel. “Take her away.”

  “No! Don’t do this! Let her go!”

  Manuel lifted her by the arms as though she weighed nothing. Cat struggled for all she was worth, desperate to break free. She kicked and writhed and bit his arm, which earned her a hard slap across the face. Shocked, she stilled for a moment, and suddenly his gun was pressed against her temple.

  “Stop struggling.”

  Cat glanced across the room to where Garcia sat at his desk, checking his phone, as though what was happening had nothing to do with him. He made a shooing motion with his hand. Manuel slung Cat over his shoulder and marched from the room, one beefy hand around her ankles, the other holding the gun.

  She looked back and saw the bag still sitting on the floor by Garcia’s desk.

  Was there really a tracking device in it? Would her uncle help her?

  Garcia was right about one thing: she was foolish. Her heart sank. Her uncle wouldn’t save her. He would say his debt was finally repaid and move on to other things.

  But Blaze . . . she had to get Blaze out of here.

  Manuel walked down the hallway and carried her out a side door. Nausea threatened when she realized he was taking her aboard the yacht. As he marched through a fancy living room and then down more stairs and into a stateroom, she swallowed the bile in her throat.

  He finally dropped her in the middle of a huge bed. Gun in one hand, he secured her bound hands to the headboard. He patted her down, and she glared when he lingered far too long on her breasts. He smirked and kept going, pulling the knife from the sheath at her back, then running his hands along her legs. She almost shouted in frustration when he also found the one strapped to her ankle. He removed it, made a tsking sound, and put both knives in his pocket. Slipping off her tennis shoes, he tucked them neatly under the bed before stepping back and shooting her a lecherous smile. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  He left, the lock clicking into place behind him.

  Cat tried to still the panic building in her chest. Was this Garcia’s room? Oh God. She shook her head as the terror tried to close over her mind. No, she wouldn’t think about what he had planned. She had to formulate her own plan. And that included being long gone before Garcia showed up to collect on his so-called debt.

  Her stomach did a slow roll. She hated boats. They made her seasick, something she’d learned when she hid on a boat after she first escaped Miami. But if she could get to her shoes, she could escape.

  All she needed was the knife hidden in the left sole.

  She hadn’t stayed alive this long without being prepared.

  Chapter 27

&n
bsp; Nick had stared at the whiteboard for so long his eyes burned and his shoulders ached from sitting in the ancient desk chair. But he still didn’t have any answers. When his cell phone rang, his heart rate picked up at seeing Sasha’s number. So far, the only time he heard from her was when one of the Martinellis was in trouble.

  “Hey, Sasha, what’s up?”

  “I think Cat’s done something stupid,” Sasha burst out. “I told her and told her to be smart, but she never listens to me. She never did. And now she’s done it again.”

  Nick interrupted her stream of words. “Slow down and tell me what’s going on.”

  He heard her take a deep breath. “Jesse just got back. He tried to call, but I didn’t hear it—”

  “Hear what?”

  “Sorry. OK, so Jesse was in town a little while ago, and he saw Cat do the same stupid thing again. She stood right there on Main Street in front of the mayor’s weather cam and started playing her violin. Before Jesse could get to her, she spotted a black sedan and took off after it in her car.”

  “Did he get the plate number?”

  “No, there was a delivery truck blocking the road by the Blue Dolphin, and by the time he got past, both cars were gone.”

  “Which way were they headed?”

  “West, out of town.”

  “Why didn’t he call me right away?”

  There was a pause.

  Nick sighed. “You still think she’d involved in something illegal, don’t you?”

  “No!” Sasha burst out. “Not illegal, but maybe . . . gray.”

  “She won’t tell you what’s really happening?”

  “No. And believe me, I’ve tried to get it out of her.”

  Nick almost smiled. They thought they were all so different, but he knew firsthand that stubbornness ran deep in all three—if he included Blaze, make that four—of the Martinelli girls. No blood relatives had ever protected each other more fiercely.

  “Can you describe the car?” he asked.

  “Jesse was too far away to get a great look, but he said it was a newer make, luxury black sedan. The windows were tinted, so he wasn’t able to get a look at the driver.”