Eric wagged his finger, spelling it out for me. “Yes, but they were playing a team with better stats, so gamblers weren’t expecting the Bruins to win. Even though they’d won back-to-back games. For the away games they were playing stronger teams. The odds weren’t in their favor.”
“But you’d have people betting on the Bruins every game.” My shoulder hitched.
“Oh, for sure, but they may have bet smaller amounts...and what’s the bet the Bruins will play clean next game.”
I nodded, starting to understand how it all worked. “After a winning streak, people will be more confident putting money on them.”
“Uh-huh.” Eric nodded. “And if they lose...it’s ka-ching for Tiffany’s little gambling operation.”
“This is bad.” I crossed my arms, not feeling any lighter for having figured it all out. “How are we going to expose this?”
“I’ll take some photos.”
“I’ll call the police.” I dug the phone out of my pocket.
Eric gave me a dubious nod, then pulled out his phone to start snapping some shots. He paused mid-air when I let out a gasp.
“What?” He spun to face me.
“This is Liam’s.” I snatched the jacket off the back of the kitchen chair and held it up.
“How can you be so sure?”
“I remember it.” My voice came out high and pitchy. “He used to wear it all the time. I know it’s his.” I gave it a sniff and nodded.
“You know his smell?” Eric’s question was bathed in skepticism.
“Come on, he wore this practically every day in the winter and he always wore too much cologne.” I threw the jacket at Eric. “Smell it. It’s dripping.”
Eric gave it a reluctant sniff, wrinkling his nose as he threw it back to me.
“You might think it’s stupid, but I know this is his.” I gripped it in my hands.
“So, what’s it doing up here then?”
I met Eric’s worried gaze with one of my own. We were making way too many connections up in the little cabin and it freaked me out. Giving the jacket one last sniff, I dropped it on the table and turned to watch Eric snap some photos.
But he’d stopped.
Instead, he was frozen and gazing at the kitchen door, his eyes round with shock.
Confused, I turned on my heel to see what he was looking at and let out a sharp scream.
27
Eric
Mason stood at the door with a gun in his hand, his eyes fixated on Caity. I didn’t need to be any kind of mind reader to see that he wanted to kill her. His weapon was pointed at her chest.
She stepped back, pressing her butt into the table. Her white knuckles gave away her fear, and I had to act fast or she’d be dead...and then it would be my turn.
“Put the phones down.” Mason’s voice was soft and steely.
I went to slide mine onto the counter.
“Drop them on the floor!” he barked, gripping the gun and thrusting it in Caity’s direction.
His dark blue gaze flickered to mine for a brief moment as the two phones clunked onto the hard wood. He stepped far enough into the kitchen to crunch them beneath his thick, leather boots.
I winced as the glass cracked and shattered.
There went any chance of photos...or help.
At least we still had the location of the cabin. If we could get out, we could let the police know.
“Nice shirt,” Caity pointed at the orange Vita-Lite label across his chest.
Mason’s blue eyes darkened with a smirk. “The uniform makes it look legit,” he muttered. “Now move.” He flicked his gun, indicating for us to head out of the kitchen.
I wondered where he planned to finish us off. He could shoot us both and bury us in the woods. It would take days for people to find us. At least I had the comfort of knowing I’d told Scott we were coming up, so whatever happened to Caity and me, at least someone would know.
I stepped past Mason, my mind ticking with ways of getting us out of the mess.
Caity whimpered and I turned to see Mason grab the back of her neck and force her away from the table. She looked really scared. She was reading Mason and what she saw terrified her.
“Ow,” she squeaked as he pushed her toward the door.
His grip was hurting her, which in turn hurt me. Seeing her pinched, white fear combined with her pain sparked something inside me. Rage trampled over logical thought and I lunged at Mason.
“Get your hands off her,” I growled, punching the side of his face.
The gun fired, the loud noise exploding into the room and making my heart stop.
Caity covered her ears with a scream and dropped to the floor, scrambling away from him. I only had a microsecond to assess the damage, but I saw no blood. My punch must have thrown Mason’s aim. He pushed himself off the table, spinning to fire another shot, and I quickly jabbed at him again. His face reared back. I grabbed his wrist and used the full force of my body to slam him against the wall. The gun went off again, followed by a deafening explosion and a flare of heat.
Caity screamed, her sound muffled as she buried her face into the kitchen floor.
Mason and I were thrown to the floor.
The bullet must have hit one of the gas cookers. The kitchen filled with instant smoke and flames as glass bottles cracked and shattered, sending glass splinters flying through the room.
I kept my head low and scrambled toward Caity, covering her with my body.
“We have to get out of here!” I yelled in her ear.
She nodded as I put my hands under her arms and helped her into a crouched position.
“Stay low to the ground!” I kept my arm over her head, ignoring the nettles of glass piercing my skin as it rained throughout the kitchen.
Another shot went off. I ducked my head and looked up to see a bullet hole in the kitchen door we were crawling past.
“Go! Go!” I pushed Caity forward.
She stumbled into the dining room and lurched to her feet. I glanced over my shoulder in time to see Mason stand from the kitchen floor and aim the gun at Caity once more. I threw myself at her, tackling her to the ground as another bullet flew past my shoulder. We landed with a thud. Caity whimpered beneath me.
“Sorry,” I whispered. “But we gotta go.”
I shifted and gave her room to crawl for the door.
Another explosion shot through the kitchen. My head whipped around in time to see Mason’s body fly from the kitchen entrance and land against the table with a thud. His head cracked on the wood as plastic bottles went flying. He slumped to the floor like a limp rag doll.
Smoke was pouring into the main part of the cabin, making it hard to breathe. I coughed against the back of my hand, pushing Caity toward the door. We finally reached it and struggled to unlatch the bolt. Panic tore through me as I wrestled to budge the old lock.
The smoke was growing thicker by the second and another explosion could rip through the kitchen at any second. Flames began to dance along the edge of the ceiling. The place would be ashes in a matter of minutes.
“Come on!” I yelled at the deadbolt. With a grunt, I gave it one last try and it finally popped free.
Wrenching the door open, we scrambled through, tumbling down the porch stairs together and landing in the dirt driveway with a thud.
Caity coughed and hacked, sucking in mouthfuls of fresh air. I stood from my spot, assessing the house as it blazed, the inferno growing intense. Mason was still in there...and even though he wanted to kill us, I couldn’t be responsible for his death.
Slipping the bag off my shoulders, I whipped off my outer shirt and held it to my face, racing back into the house.
“No! Eric! STOP!”
I ignored Caity’s pleas, dropping to the floor and crawling back into the house. I could barely see through the sooty haze.
The air was thick, smoke trickling into my lungs in spite of the shirt I had clamped to my face. My body convulsed and hacked as I shakily
crawled forward. Water filled my eyes, trying to counter the burning sting. The heat around me intensified; I could feel my skin blistering as I moved further into the room.
“ERIC!” Caity’s screams were muffled by the roar of the flames. She must have been standing in the doorway for me to be able to hear her. All I could do was pray she didn’t follow me in.
I reached the spot I’d last seen Mason. He was crumpled on the floor, a gash on his head from banging the table. Flames were licking at his feet.
Coughing my way to a standing position, I grabbed his arm and tried to yank him away from the table. If I could just get him into more space, I could lift him onto my shoulder.
The smell of melting plastic burned my nostrils. The soles of my feet felt like they were on fire, and the hairs on my legs were being singed to nothing as I huffed and yanked on Mason’s body.
An ominous groan tore through the roof above me. I looked up in time to see a beam slowly crack and then descend. Flames fell toward me in a long, burning stick.
I jumped back with a cry, forced to let go of Mason. Flames tried to grab hold of my shorts as I scrambled away from the beam. Mason was now trapped in a ring of fire.
My lungs protested, my body convulsing with coughs as I tried to figure out a way to get through to him.
“ERIC!” Caity’s wailing screams reached me and I turned for the door. She was standing in the frame, an arm over her head as she tried to dodge falling cinders. “Eric, get out!”
If I didn’t move soon, flames would engulf my only exit and I’d be dead.
Anguish tore through me as I looked back at Mason, disappearing behind a wall of flame, then turned to look at my girl. Her blue eyes were bright with fear, but it didn’t stop her inching through the door, ready to come in and save me. If she did that, we’d both be dead.
I only had one choice.
Turning for the door, I sprinted through the burning cabin and launched myself into the open air.
My arm came around Caity’s waist as I tore past her. We tripped down the stairs and raced from the house until our legs gave way. We hit the dirt, coughing and spitting up black saliva.
Heat was pulsing off my skin as I turned to look at the house.
“I couldn’t save him.” I swallowed, tears burning my eyes. I ran a trembling hand through my hair. “I couldn’t save him.”
“You tried, Eric.” Caity wrapped her arm around my neck, pressing her forehead into my cheek. “It’s more than some people would have done.” A sob suddenly spurted from her lips, her body quaking against mine.
Pulling her onto my knee, I wrapped my arms around her, kissing her hair and staring at the house as it creaked and groaned, being pulled apart by the power of the fire.
“What the hell was Mason even doing here?”
“He and Liam must have been working for Professor Hoffman.” Caity let out a shaky sigh. “I can’t believe he stayed on after what happened to his brother.”
“I wonder what the prof had on him.”
Caity sniffed. “What do we do now?”
I shook my head, shock stealing my speech.
“Someone will see the smoke, right? They’ll the call the fire department?”
“We need to get to a phone.”
She pushed off my chest and gazed up at me. I kissed her forehead, treasuring the feel of her body against mine. Things could have turned out so differently.
Gently nudging her off my knee, I stood and grabbed her hand. “Let’s go. We need to get back to the jeep.”
She nodded, her head bobbing like a jackhammer. Snatching my backpack off the ground, I looked up at the roaring cabin one last time, acid burning my stomach as I imagined Mason’s corpse roasting inside.
I hadn’t been able to save him.
Turning for the brush, I took off at a quick pace. Caity followed behind me, slipping and sliding as we descended the steep hill in a hurry.
I raced to my jeep and wrenched Caity’s door open for her.
Her eyes glassed with tears as she slid into the passenger’s seat. “Where will the nearest phone be?”
“I’m not sure,” I muttered. “We’ll just head down the hill and see what we can find.”
“Hopefully, someone else will report the fire.”
“Yeah, we need to talk to the police though...tell them what we saw.”
Caity nodded. “Detective Sullivan. Let’s call him. He was investigating the Liam thing...which we now know is linked.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” I shook my head, my mind still reeling. “Mason and Liam must have been working for the professor.”
“Mason was a student at UCLA.” Caity shrugged. “Prof. H must have gotten to him there.”
“And then pulled Liam into it.”
“But Liam had a change of heart?” Caity’s face wrinkled with the question as she watched me walk around the car.
“Or he drank the wrong bottle of water.” I pulled the keys from my pocket and climbed into the jeep.
Starting the engine, I tore out of the forest, heading back to L.A. at a quick clip. We ended up passing three fire engines screaming their way up the mountain. Someone must have reported the smoke. My foot nearly went for the brake as I wondered if I should spin around and follow them, but one look at Caity’s pale skin made me change my mind.
We looked at each other as they raced past us, but couldn’t say anything. We were both shaking wrecks.
Arching back in her seat, Caity searched her pockets and swore.
“What?”
“I must have left Detective Sullivan’s card in my room. We’ll have to call him as soon as we get back.”
I nodded, still mute from the ordeal.
Caity and I had nearly died. We were bruised, battered, and traumatized. Mason was dead...and all the evidence we’d found had just been disintegrated. It kind of left us back at square one, but no way in hell was I giving up.
As I sped back to L.A., my temper steadily rose. Professor Hoffman had a lot to answer for. How dare he mess with my stepbrother? As thoughts of the people I cared about getting hurt coursed through my brain, my determination grew. I didn’t care what it took, we were taking down Professor Hoffman and his whole frickin’ operation.
28
Caitlyn
My body was still quivering when we pulled into campus. Eric jerked the jeep to a stop outside my dorm and we somberly headed for my room.
Scott and Piper were sitting on her bed chatting when we walked in. Their mouths dropped open in unison and Scott lurched to a stand as I shuffled into the room. “What happened?”
“We found the cabin,” Eric mumbled as he slumped onto my bed.
“I knew you’d go up there without us.” Piper moved forward on her bed and slapped Scott’s thigh. “I told you!”
Scott shot her a dry look before turning back to us, concern softening his expression. “What happened?”
My eyes filled with instant tears, my voice teetering over the story as I tried to remember all the details.
Every face in the room was ashen by the time I was done. My eyes were burning. I felt beat up and exhausted and all I wanted to do was pull Eric onto my bed, curl into his side and sleep.
“You have to call that detective.” Piper shot off my bed and went to my desk, snatching the card and handing it to me.
“I don’t have a cell phone.” I took the card from her, the digits blurring as I gazed at the number.
“Here.” She grabbed hers off the nightstand and thrust it at me.
With a loud sniff, I took it from her and slowly punched in the numbers. Holding the phone to my ear, I looked over at Eric. His soft smile settled my nerves somehow and by the time the phone was lifted off the receiver, I’d found my voice.
“Detective Sullivan, Homicide.”
“Hi, Detective. It’s, um, Caitlyn.” I swallowed. “Davis. Caitlyn Davis? You spoke to me at UCLA and gave me your card.”
“Uh-huh.” He sounded like he didn�
�t remember me. I thought I heard shuffling papers; maybe he was going through his notepad.
“You were asking me about Liam and Mason Donovan and I asked you about his blood work.”
“Ah, yes. I do remember you. You got something more for me, Miss Davis?”
I pressed my lips together, tears clogging my throat. Eric’s hand glided up my back as I squeaked, “Yes.”
There was a pause, then Detective Sullivan’s tone completely changed. His voice grew softer, slower as if trying to force me to calm down. “Are you in any danger right now?”
“No, sir, but I really need to talk to you.”
“Where are you? Or would you prefer to come down to the station?”
I turned to Eric and whispered, “Here or at the station?”
“Let’s go there.” Piper interjected. “It’ll feel more official.”
I nodded at her. “We’ll come to you.”
He rattled off some quick directions and I passed the phone back to Piper.
“Let’s go.” She stood, her tense eagerness driving us all to the door. Scott held her hand as they descended the stairs. Even though I couldn’t see her face, I could tell she was skittish. She clutched the strap of her handbag as if it held her most precious possessions and I wondered if that wretched manila envelope was tucked inside it.
Wow, she was willing to bare all to bring this to an end. Her bravery bolstered me as we walked out into the late-afternoon light. Sliding on my shades, I jumped in the front seat, next to Eric, and gave him a confident smile. This was it.
It was time to blow the lid off the entire operation.
The receptionist at the police station was expecting us. We were ushered past rows of desks and bustling people. Phones rang and chatter flew around us as every member of the force seemed to have a definitive purpose.
Detective Sullivan greeted us at the door of an empty conference room. He shook Eric’s hand first and then I introduced him to Scott and Piper.
Two-Faced (Masks #2) Page 16