The Cost of Betrayal

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The Cost of Betrayal Page 21

by Dee Henderson


  She hollered for Callen and sprinted from the room, smacking straight into his bare chest in the darkened hallway—her hands pressed to his abdomen, his muscles toned and sculpted beneath her fingertips.

  “I saw him,” she managed to blurt out.

  “What?” His voice was deep with sleep.

  “I saw a man outside, again.”

  “You wait here. I’ll go check it out.” He flipped the light switch in his room and rushed in. Pulling on his shirt, he slid on his side holster, slipped in his Glock, and grabbed a walkie-talkie.

  “Not happening,” she said, rushing back to the guest room to grab her own Glock in her still-bandaged hand. Not having her waist holster, she kept it lowered at her side.

  Moving back into the hall, she nearly collided with Callen a second time.

  “Please stay here,” he said, desperation clinging to his tone, concern creased across his brow. “I don’t want anything happening to you.”

  “I appreciate that.” His concern was genuine and evident. “But I’m going.” She wasn’t the wait-and-see kind of girl. “I’ll be careful.” Or at least attempt to.

  He arched a brow. “Tennyson Marlena Kent, you haven’t been careful a day in your life.”

  So she lived by instinct. So far, it had served her well, at least as an investigator. “We’re wasting time,” she said. Racing down the steps, she slipped on her coat and boots and grabbed her banged-up-in-the-blast-but-still-working Maglite and sped out the door before Callen had time to argue.

  He hurried after her, quickly reaching her side and sticking to her like fly paper. “Where’d you see him?” he asked.

  “At the break in the tree line, there.” She pointed to three o’clock. “Then, when I stood at the window and lightning hit the tree, he fled that way.” She shifted her arm, pointing to their twelve.

  “All right, let’s go, but please stay by my side.”

  “We can cover more ground if we split up.”

  “Ain’t happening, sunshine.”

  He hadn’t called her that in a decade.

  He was ridiculous when it came to protecting her. “You are so stubborn,” she hollered over the storm.

  “Stubborn?” He smiled. “Pot. Kettle,” he said. The sound of Sam’s fire siren blared dimly in the distance but grew louder the closer it drew.

  “I radioed Sam on the walkie-talkie system we use when the lines go down,” Callen said.

  She prayed that siren didn’t scare the intruder off before they could catch him, but it was the right decision. The tree fire—small as it may be in comparison to the one that had ravaged her home—needed to be extinguished quickly to keep it from spreading despite the rain.

  Mud oozed beneath their boots as they entered the forest, clinging to them as they tracked in the direction the man had fled, the beams of their flashlights spreading out in an arc, clearly illuminating a few feet out, then fading into a faint glimmer of light in the distance.

  “Wait!” Callen hollered, halting her in place with a strong arm across her torso.

  “What?” she called over the storm.

  He jiggled his flashlight at the muddy footprint in the damp but mostly sheltered part of the woods, thanks to the leaf-covered canopy.

  “I’m going to guess a size ten,” Callen said, hovering the sole of his size-eleven boot over the print and finding it less than an inch shorter.

  Teni illuminated the path of the prints tracking forward. “Now we know the direction he’s fled.”

  Callen carefully moved around the prints, carving a quick mark in the tree so they could come back and process the prints properly. Since there was no cell service on Talbot, no one bothered carrying their phones, so there’d be no quick picture-taking until they went back to Callen’s to retrieve a camera. But they’d never stop midpursuit to process evidence.

  The manhunt came first and foremost, so they rapidly continued, following the boot prints until the canopy opened up and the prints faded into mashed squishes of mud under the rain’s heavy fall.

  Terrific.

  Something snapped on their left.

  They shifted their flashlights, their beams landing for a moment on a man dressed in black, ski mask included.

  “There!” Teni shouted, racing forward as he quickly moved out of her flashlight’s beam.

  “Teni, wait!” Callen hollered. “We’re near the underground cave system. With this rain—”

  He spoke a moment too late, for the ground gave way in a rush, yanking her down a cascading mudslide with a whoosh. Branches prodded and poked into her flesh as she fell through the muddy opening in the earth—no doubt brought on by the flooding rains. She’d been so fixated on catching the man, she hadn’t thought ahead to what she might be headed into. The ground beneath her was cold and slick.

  She blinked as Callen bent over the opening, more than a dozen feet above, the beam of his flashlight shining down. “You okay?”

  She lifted her head and nodded. “Yep.” Just embarrassed she hadn’t watched her step better, and now whoever had been outside of Callen’s house was getting away.

  “Let me get you out,” Callen said.

  “No.” She shook her head as she propped herself up on her elbows. “Go after him.”

  “Ten? You can’t be serious. I’m not going to just leave you here.”

  “Please. He’s getting away. I’m fine.”

  “Ten—”

  “Please.”

  “Fine. Stay put,” he said.

  Like she was going anywhere?

  Callen’s footsteps echoed away, sloshing through the slick mud above.

  She scrambled to her feet and examined the pit she was stuck in.

  Rain pattered in, turning the earthen walls to slippery mud, but tree roots poked through the far side, and she had thick branches surrounding her.

  Shoving branch after branch into the side of the pit, she fashioned a climbing wall and, after a few struggles, slips, and missteps, finally clawed and crawled her way over the edge and back onto level ground.

  “I should have known you’d figure a way out,” a male voice growled—one familiar despite his obvious attempt to muffle it.

  No, it can’t be.

  She swallowed, attempting to turn and face the man, but he quickly grabbed her from behind, pulling her into a chokehold, stealing her breath away. While she suffocated and wriggled to break free of his ironclad grasp, he jerked her gun from her bandaged hand with a painful jab.

  “Finally separating you two gives me the opportunity I need.” His hot breath tickled the nape of her neck, making her skin crawl.

  He squeezed tighter on her neck, so tight and forceful he was close to crushing her windpipe.

  Focus, Teni. Concentrating all her effort, she wriggled enough to elbow him hard in the solar plexus, then stomped on his instep as he shifted. When he loosened his hold, she took full advantage, quickly spinning around and thrusting the heel of her palm up into his nose with as much force as she could muster, his nose cracking loudly upon impact. She’d definitely broken it.

  “Teni,” Callen called from what sounded like a hundred yards away, but closing in.

  “You’ll pay for this,” the man said, regaining his composure and lunging to retrieve the gun he’d dropped during her onslaught.

  Teni spotted it on the ground as lightning flashed and dove for it. They collided and wrestled for the weapon.

  She managed to grab hold of his ski mask, yanking it off as the gun fired.

  “No!” Callen hollered, closer than she expected.

  She stumbled back in a crablike crawl—the bullet having entered her shoulder in a hot rush of heat. “William?” She swallowed. Her own cousin was trying to kill her? He wasn’t even supposed to be on the island. Why?

  William scrambled to his feet and darted into the darkness as Callen approached.

  “He went that way,” she said. “William went that way.”

  Shock echoing her own crossed Calle
n’s concerned face. “William? Your cousin?”

  She nodded, then winced, her eyes heavy.

  His face tightened. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. He just . . .” Darkness engulfed her before she could finish her sentence.

  fifteen

  TENI WOKE TO A BRIGHT LIGHT OVERHEAD and a table or some hard surface beneath her.

  Paul stood beside Callen, both gazing worriedly at her.

  “Look who’s awake,” Paul said.

  Paul? What was he doing here? And where was she?

  Pain ricocheted through her right shoulder as she sat up, searing down her arm to her fingertips.

  Callen rushed to her side. “Easy now, sunshine. You took quite the hit.”

  “You mean that was real?” Her cousin William had shot her? He was the one trying to kill her? Had he killed Julia and stolen her body too?

  “I’m afraid so,” Callen said.

  “But . . . why?” What had she ever done to William to make him want to kill her and Julia?

  Paul cleared his throat and shifted for the doorway.

  She gazed around. She was in Paul’s kitchen. It’d been years since she’d last been here, but she recognized the seashell-print wallpaper.

  “I’ll give you two some privacy,” he said. “Holler if you need anything. And, Teni . . .” Seriousness overtook his expression and tone. “You best listen to Callen and take it easy. The bullet missed a major artery by only this much.” He demonstrated, holding his thumb and forefinger very slightly apart.

  “You took the bullet out?” She glanced from him to her bandaged shoulder.

  “My dog got shot by a hunter not too long ago. I had to remove the bullet or Oberon would have died.”

  “And?”

  “Obby’s alive and well. Crashed up on my bed snoring as we speak. Don’t worry. Between paramedic and nursing training, you learn a whole heap of a lot.” He tapped the white doorframe with his long, slender fingers. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me. Like I said, just holler. Oh . . .” He paused in the doorway. “I gave you a good dose of pain meds. They should start numbing the pain soon, and I’ll send some home with you.”

  “Okay. Thanks,” she said, still feeling as if she were in a dream.

  Callen moved closer, taking up his stance by her left side and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder as Paul’s footsteps echoed up the stairs.

  “I was terrified back there,” he said, moving his hand to cup her face, his palm warm and sturdy. He exhaled with a tremor, gazing into her eyes. “Terrified I’d never get to tell you that I love you.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I always have. Always will.”

  She swallowed, elation filling her despite the pain. The emptiness she’d carried since their breakup disappeared, her heart pouring forth in her words. “I love you too.” A breath escaped her lips as his descended on hers. Time evaporated as their kiss deepened, but finally, using restraint beyond her measure, she broke the most majestic kiss of her life.

  “What?” he said, breathless as he caressed her cheek.

  She exhaled, every fiber of her being screaming, Stay in the moment, but they had a killer to catch. “William,” she managed, surprised she could speak, let alone think coherently, after that kiss.

  She’d never considered she was being hunted by a family member—a family member who she’d celebrated holidays with, who she’d played with as a kid, and who she’d looked after at family events, being five years older than him.

  Apparently, none of that mattered to him.

  How could he have tried to kill her? He’d most likely killed Julia too. What was wrong with him?

  “I radioed Sam and had him call in the Talbot Search and Rescue volunteers,” Callen said. “We’ve got a manhunt before us.”

  “One we need to wrap up before the nor’easter passes, or William will be able to slink off the island and we might never find him.” She slowly slid off the table they’d turned into a surgical table, the movement deepening the ache throbbing in her shoulder.

  “Easy now, sunshine.”

  She loved the sound of his nickname for her dancing on his delicious lips.

  “I can’t believe William killed Julia and keeps trying to kill me. What does he want? To inherit an island he’s never cared about?”

  “You said he’s next in line.”

  “Yes, but he’s never cared about Talbot. So why now?”

  “Maybe he feels he deserves it and has been planning this for a while, or maybe he’s suddenly desperate for money and plans on selling it.”

  “Like Alex wanted to do. . . .”

  Callen’s dark brows furrowed at her pause. “What?”

  “Alex and William really hit it off at the engagement party.”

  He arched a brow. “The party where Alex introduced you to a developer?”

  “Y . . . e . . . a . . . h.” She narrowed her eyes, no doubt thinking the same thing as he was. “You’re wondering if Alex told William about wanting to sell Talbot to a developer?”

  “The thought crossed my mind.”

  “You think they could be in this together?” It was a horrible thought—her cousin and her at-the-time fiancé planning her death. Horrific, but not altogether improbable.

  William was into business dealings, start-up companies . . . Not unlike Alex. And neither understood the beauty of Talbot or appreciated her family’s legacy.

  Alex’s ambivalence, she got. William’s, she never had. It was their family’s island. She couldn’t help who the deed passed to. Her great, great, great and so on grandfather had set that in motion when he’d been given the island.

  Had William secretly wanted the island he seemed to never care about so badly that he was willing to kill Julia and her? Or was Callen on to something? Was it all because William and Alex had joined forces? Alex finding the buyer, and William getting her out of the line of inheritance. Then he’d sell Talbot and what . . . ? Pay Alex a hefty broker’s fee for finding the buyer, connecting them, making sure Teni made it to Talbot. Had it all been a setup they would use if she refused to sell to the buyer Alex had chosen?

  She shook her head. She’d loved them, thought they loved her. Could they both care so little about her and her very life?

  sixteen

  “I IMAGINE WE SHOULD START the search at William’s place, though I doubt he’d actually stay there if he wishes to remain hidden,” Callen said.

  “Agreed.” She nodded.

  “So be thinking of any other places on the island William might stay—with a friend, possibly?” he asked. “Though it seems more likely he’d want no one to know about his presence on the island,” he added.

  “That makes sense. There is . . . was an old fishing cabin on the northern tip of Talbot where he and his dad used to go. Pretty sure it’s uninhabitable, but it’s worth a shot.”

  “Sounds like a strong possibility. He could also be hunkered down in a tent somewhere—on Talbot or on one of the barrier islands.”

  Henry’s Point was one of three small barrier islands surrounding Talbot, the others being Wilson’s Key and Evan’s Marsh.

  Callen stared at her with eyes narrowed. “I don’t suppose there is any way I can talk you out of this. You just had a bullet taken out of your shoulder. Paul said the damage was minimal, but I can’t . . .” He shook his head. “I could ask Paul to search with me, and you can hang out with Oberon.”

  “Not even a little chance. This is my fight. Besides, Paul needs to stay close to the radio in case there is a storm-related injury.” Her shoulder still throbbed, but the pain wasn’t too bad. The meds appeared to be doing their job. She was a bit loopy but confident she could hold up her end of the search.

  Callen took a deep breath and appeared resigned. “Okay, let’s start with William’s house, then the cabin, and if need be, we’ll go from there.”

  They were right in their initial assumption—William wasn’t at his house, nor did it appear he’d been there in a while—so
they rode out to the northern tip of the island.

  Rain lashed hard in the stinging, hurricane-force winds, which also pelted sand through the air.

  Battling the wind and rising water level—already mid-calf high as they climbed out of the Tahoe—they trekked to where Teni recalled the cabin had been, though it was nearly impossible to make out much of anything through the blanket of pummeling rain.

  “I think it’s that way,” she hollered over the storm’s roar.

  Callen nodded and followed, the two wading through the rapidly rising waterline. The chill of the bay water, mixed with the dousing rain, seeped through Teni’s pants and down her legs. As the water rose to mid-thigh level, she wondered if they wouldn’t make better progress swimming.

  “There,” she said, barely making out the brown clapboard structure that sat as close to the shoreline as possible while still being on the island. The roof and four walls shockingly remained in place, though the front porch was crumbling, the porch roof nearly caved fully in.

  Faded orange storm shutters covered the windows, and water swirled half a foot up the matching orange door.

  Wading toward the front door with weapons drawn—Teni using one of Callen’s since William had stolen hers before fleeing last night in the woods—they paused before stepping onto the porch.

  Callen indicated for her to wade around back in case William was inside and attempted to flee. He clearly did not like the thought of her being around back alone—though competent, she was not in tiptop shape. She knew he respected her skills, but she also knew he’d always be protective of her, especially when she was nursing a bandaged shoulder, which a bullet had just been pulled out of.

  Callen hated Teni being out of his sight for even a moment, but the back needed covering.

  William, being the weasel he was, would most likely take the coward’s way out and use a rear window to flee. But he felt better about Teni covering the windows than he did about having her break down the front door. He’d be the one to face William’s reaction to the startling intrusion, if he was in fact inside.

  Exhaling, Callen kicked in the door and rushed in, water flowing in after him. Noise rustled in the back, but it was so dark with the storm shutters in place he couldn’t make out the source.

 

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