by Debra Webb
A streak of lightning abruptly lit up the sky. Evan blinked. Even his dark glasses weren’t sufficient protection from nature’s brilliant display.
“Looks like it might start raining again,” Merv commented, obviously feeling left out.
“Just our luck,” Rowen said.
Evan didn’t join the conversation. He needed to concentrate and conserve his energy.
He switched off the engine as they neared their destination. The island looked dark. The high drumlin gave it the look of a fortress.
The tide ushered them closer to the steep bank on the side of the island opposite the pier. Once Evan was satisfied with the position, he dropped anchor.
They had no choice but to swim the rest of the way. Getting any closer would risk damaging the boat, which was their only means of escape, assuming they survived.
Evan shrugged off his coat, checked his shoulder holster and shed his gloves. He took a deep breath and braced for the impact of overpowering sensations.
Rowen watched as Hunter prepared for leaving the relative safety of the boat. As furious as she was, she recognized how damned hard this was going to be for him. And part of her, stupidly, wished she could protect him from the pain.
“Idiot,” she muttered. He’d broken her heart, then come back and stepped on it one last time after she’d finally gotten past bleeding for him every damn time she closed her eyes.
Focus. This was where things got dicey.
“Merv, you stay here and call for backup when I give you the signal or in the event you hear gunfire break out.”
He shook his head and let go a heavy breath. “I’d feel a lot better, Ro, if you let me go and you stayed here.”
Just what she needed. Another overprotective male. But she knew Merv. He had her best interests at heart. They’d worked together for years and could practically read each other’s minds. It had nothing to do with psychic phenomena.
“Someone needs to stay behind to call for backup,” she repeated. Coming here was dumb as hell without backup as it was. But she understood the reasoning. There was no way to know who they could trust. Hunter had said this guy McGill could be posing as anyone. He’d apparently given himself a new ID after disappearing just over four years ago. First order of business was confirming what was here…and what wasn’t. “You know the deal,” she said to Merv. She didn’t have to wonder if he would understand what she meant.
“I could get Doherty over here,” Merv offered nonchalantly. “He’s sitting on ready.”
Hunter pivoted toward her partner. “You told Doherty about this operation?”
Merv and Rowen exchanged glances; he let her explain. “We’re a team, Hunter,” she said flatly. “Obviously something you know nothing about. Doherty is standing by in case we need him.” That’s all he needed to know at this point. Hunter wasn’t the only one who could keep secrets.
“He’s got his finger on speed dial to the chief,” Merv added smugly, miffed that Hunter would question his and Rowen’s tactics.
Hunter settled his gaze on her then, though his eyes were shielded by those infuriating dark glasses. “I hope you realize the risk you’ve taken.”
Rowen peeled off her own jacket, then shoved the extra clip for her weapon into her jeans pocket. “Screw you, Hunter. This is my case.”
With that clarified, she draped her legs over the side of the boat and slipped into the cold water.
Her breath rushed out of her lungs and she gasped to reclaim it. Damn! She’d known the water would be chilly, but this was really cold.
Glutton for punishment that she was, she wondered how Hunter would deal with the sharp drop in his body temperature.
He didn’t give her time to ponder the question. He slid into the water as noiselessly as an Olympic diver and started strong, steady breaststrokes toward the island.
Rowen did the same. The pull of the tide made the going easy. She’d no sooner reached the rocky slope than rain started to fall once more. Another flash of lightning lit up the sky.
Using jutting rocks for handholds and ledges for her boots, she climbed the steep slope. The rain blurred her vision, made going slippery as hell. By the time she flung her body onto more level ground, she was breathing hard. Hunter had waited to see that she made it and then he headed for the copse of trees. Rowen scrubbed the rain from her face and followed.
Shrubs and trees provided adequate cover as they moved through the darkness. Images and sounds kept flitting through her mind. Pirates burying their treasure…sword fights…dead rabbits. She shuddered.
The lightning slashed sharply above the Boston skyline, thunder shattered the silence. She watched for Hunter’s reaction, hoped he was handling this all right.
The moon did little to cut through the thick darkness. The rain had let up enough to allow the fog to rise and swirl around them as they moved toward the ruins of the old Maritime Training School.
Rowen stopped to peer toward the meadow that lay in the distance beyond the trees. Stunned, she blinked and looked again. A brand-new structure, massive in size, loomed where historic ruins had once stood. Water rippled and foamed on the beach beyond it.
The granite building resembled a fortress or an uninspired castle. The way the fog lifted around it made Rowen shudder inside. A giant mausoleum, she decided. That’s what it looked like, looming in the darkness.
“So much for being closed due to contamination,” Hunter murmured.
She almost jumped…hadn’t realized he was that close. She swallowed the lump of fear that had lodged in her throat. The place was contaminated all right, contaminated with whatever McGill was up to.
“Getting inside isn’t going to be easy,” she said, tossing out the deduction that had just crossed her mind.
“Just remember, we’re only here to check it out,” Hunter warned. “Taking down McGill or whoever the hell is in there is the Bureau’s job.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He’d told her that about four times already.
“Get down!”
Rowen turned around just in time to see Hunter go hand to hand with another dark figure.
She reached for her gun.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
The muzzle of a weapon bored into the back of her skull.
Rowen froze.
She knew that voice.
Chapter Thirteen
“It’s really quite simple.”
Rowen stared, a mixture of fury and hatred churning in her gut, at Chief Bart Koppel. The son of a bitch was the one. Nathan McGill, aka the South End Murderer.
“I needed to kill four birds with one stone, so to speak,” he explained.
Rowen risked a glance toward the corner of the cell where she and Hunter had been tossed. He lay on the cold stone floor. He wasn’t moving. Worry twisted in her gut.
Her gaze whipped back to Koppel. “I’m going to kill you. You know that, don’t you?” She said the words with all the rage and disgust mounting inside her.
If it was the last thing she did, this bastard was going down.
“Amuse yourself if you wish, Detective O’Connor,” Koppel said. “Your body won’t ever be found.” He jerked his head toward Hunter. “Nor will his.”
“Why the hell did you start this?” She shivered. Her clothes were still wet from the swim she’d taken. The punches she’d suffered for taking a dive at Koppel had left her with a busted lip and a bloody nose. Not that she could feel any pain right now. She was too pissed off.
“Azariel had figured out I was here,” Koppel explained nonchalantly. “I couldn’t very well risk him deciding to do the right thing or, worse, attempting blackmail. I’ve worked too hard to get this operation where it is today.”
What the hell was he talking about? “What are you doing here, ch—?” She bit back the title she’d respected for four years. How could this be the man she’d looked up to?
“I have clients, O’Connor.” He smiled, amused by his own ingenuity. “Clients who are w
illing to pay any price for entertainment. Special entertainment. Think about it. Wouldn’t it be wonderful to have your own personal psychic to let you know when to just stay home to avoid a bad day at the office?” He laughed. “Imagine what a party favorite a mind-reader could be?”
“You’re sick,” she hissed, disgust coiling in her stomach. “These aren’t animals you’re talking about!”
“Money can buy most anything these days, O’Connor, and the Internet makes international sales a snap. I just cornered the market on a new trend, that’s all.” He waved his arms magnanimously. “I built this place as a sort of waiting station and, of course, as a test facility. When my team finds what I’m looking for, this is where the package is delivered for testing and verification before final delivery to the customer with the winning bid. There’s no place on earth like it.”
He was crazy. The manic look in his eyes confirmed her conclusion. “So all of it—six innocent victims—was about setting up Viktor to get him off your back?”
“Come now, Detective, do I look that shallow?” he scoffed. “No, no. I not only needed to get Viktor off my scent, I needed to get rid of Jeff. He was the last of my blood…the only person who might have inadvertently recognized some of my old habits.”
He shrugged and let go a heavy breath. “Unfortunately I had to extend that umbrella to include you, as well. The Homicide unit won’t be the same without you. You’re a fine detective, perhaps too good. I had begun to see that I wouldn’t be able to pull this off without alerting you.” Koppel glanced at Hunter. “And, of course, your protector. If anything happened to you he wouldn’t rest until he got his vengeance. Might as well get rid of him in the process. Azariel, of course, will be blamed for all the murders. Using the drug his company manufacturers was the clincher. Case closed. Thanks for your outstanding detective work.”
Rowen shook her head. This was too crazy. “But you’ve been my chief since I came on board at Homicide. Five years ago, McGill worked for the Bureau.” Maybe the chief had developed some sort of bizarre mental disorder. Maybe he’d lost his mind. God, she was grasping at straws here.
Another of those smug smiles slid across his face. “I had to pick a life. Making one up isn’t nearly as much fun or as reliable. Plus I needed a position that would keep me in the know. What better one than this? Once Koppel’s wife was out of the way, it was easy to take over. He had no children or other family. No friends to speak of. I monitored his activities long enough to feel comfortable with the transition and then, voilà.” He indicated his face. “A little necessary cosmetic surgery and I became him.”
Something he’d said filtered through the haze of disbelief. “Did you cause the accident that killed the chief’s wife?” Surely that couldn’t be.
He snickered. “How else could I get rid of a perfectly healthy woman?”
She’d heard enough. “You might as well kill me, you son of a bitch, because if I live through this I’m taking you down.” She fisted her hands and challenged him to make a move.
“Let’s not be so dramatic, O’Connor.” He moved toward her one step, then a second one. “I’m going to use you and your lover here to drive the final nail in Azariel’s coffin.”
Fear trickled through her. “I’ll kill myself before I’ll let you use me for anything!”
Koppel or McGill, whoever the hell he was, pulled a syringe from his jacket. “We can’t let that happen, now can we?”
Rowen glanced around the stark cell. There was nothing to grab for a weapon.
“You’ll only feel a slight pinprick and then nothing at all,” he cajoled as he moved closer. “Paralysis will be instantaneous, but this dosage isn’t lethal. It’ll just keep you out of my way for a while…until I’ve gotten Azariel into place.”
“Backup will be here any minute now,” she threatened, her heart pumping wildly as he came ever nearer.
“You mean the backup your partner was supposed to call?” He shook his head. “I don’t think he even heard my men coming. It’s hell when a man gets old. Merv should have retired years ago.”
Rowen slammed a punch into his gut. He grunted but still managed to grab her by the hair.
She twisted away from the needle, elbowed him in the side. She kicked his shins, roared with the force of it. She wanted to kill him.
He screamed obscenities at her. Snapped her head back, exposing her neck as that damned needle came closer and closer.
The hand holding the syringe suddenly was jerked away from her.
Koppel screamed and his hold on her hair relaxed.
She spun around just in time to see Hunter empty the syringe into Koppel’s neck.
A look of horror claimed his face and he went limp.
Hunter let him drop to the floor.
“Grab his key card,” he ordered.
Her movements frantic, matching her racing pulse, she quickly dug through his pockets until she found the key card he’d used to access the locked doors around this place.
“I thought you were dead,” she mentioned offhandedly.
“I’ve heard that before.”
Her gaze collided with Hunter’s. “Are you all right?”
From the sound of his voice, he definitely was not all right. The left side of his face had begun to swell from the beating he’d taken, and his voice wavered when he spoke.
“I’ll live. Now let’s get out of here.”
“Wait.” Rowen stood, shoved the hair out of her face. Unlike Hunter, she’d been conscious when they dragged her into this cell. “In some places, access requires his thumbprint.”
Hunter swore.
Just then, Rowen would have given most anything for a good sharp knife, but she didn’t have one handy.
Before she could fathom his intent, Hunter knelt down and slung Koppel over his shoulder.
“Let’s go.”
To exit the cell, she needed only the key card. When the door opened, she surveyed the corridor to make sure no guards were around. But there could be cameras.
“They’re probably watching us,” she warned, her breath ragged with the adrenaline pumping through her veins.
“Probably,” he agreed, his voice strained from lugging the chief’s deadweight. “Listen to me, Rowen.”
She looked up at him, the pain in his eyes almost undoing her. “Yeah?”
“There’s no way I’m getting out of here.” He held up a hand when she was about to interrupt. “I’m too weak. But I’m going to try and get you out of here. Go for help. Call. Swim. Do whatever you have to.”
“Just hang on, Hunter,” she urged. “I wasn’t kidding when I told Koppel backup was on the way. Merv and I have this system. When I told him to stay behind so he could call backup, that’s exactly what he did. Five minutes after we left him.”
“What if they got to him first?”
That was entirely possible. “We’ll just have to pray they didn’t.”
A beat of silence passed.
“Let’s go.”
Taking a deep breath, Rowen moved out into the corridor. She hurried toward the entrance she’d been hustled through. This one required the key card and Koppel’s thumbprint. She slid the card and then twisted his hand into a position where she could flatten his thumb as needed. The door opened.
She eased through the opening, checked left, then right.
The business end of a Beretta met her.
“I’m looking for the exit,” she said with a big, feigned smile.
The guard jerked her into the corridor. “Where’s your escort?”
Before she could answer the guy crumpled to the floor.
She shrugged. “Obviously he didn’t know there were two of us.”
“Get his weapon.”
“You read my mind.” She grabbed the Beretta. “What about him?”
“Drag him through that door and take his key card.”
It wasn’t easy, but Rowen did as instructed. “This way,” she said when she hurried around Hunter to lea
d once more.
The door at the other end of the corridor started to open. Hunter pushed her toward the closest side door. Her hand shaking, she passed the key card through the slide and shoved the door inward. No sooner had it closed than she heard the sound of boots pounding in the corridor.
She let go a shaky breath.
Close. Too close.
“Don’t turn on the light,” Hunter warned.
She couldn’t be sure if it was for his comfort or to avoid attracting attention.
He plopped Koppel onto a desk and walked over to what looked like windows draped with blinds. He parted two slats and peered beyond the window.
When he drew back, he turned to her. It was too dark to see his eyes, but his voice said it all. “Take a look at this.”
She joined him by the window and peeked through the blinds. Shock radiated through her.
This was no window, this was a viewing center. What looked like cases lined the walls of the room below. People—she gasped—slept on narrow cots behind those steel bars. In the center of the room were computers and examination tables. The lab for confirming what his prisoners were capable of. A human zoo.
“God only knows how many he’s done this to,” she murmured. “Koppel said he’d been selling them.”
“I heard.” Hunter took a rough breath, amping up her concern.
“I thought you were…”
“I was just playing dead.”
She was glad. He’d saved her life and his own, as well.
“He had the perfect setup,” Hunter said, his attention turning back to the business below. “No one would be nosing around on this island. He could do anything he wanted.”
Until Viktor found him out.
“I’m going to search for a phone,” she told Hunter. They had to get the hell out of here. There would be more guards. An operation like this would have tight security and she couldn’t be certain Merv made that call before…she couldn’t think about her partner right now. And she had to help these people.
Before she could put the concept into action, an alarm sounded. The people downstairs began to scurry about to protect their prisoners. There were more hurried footsteps in the corridor.