by Rebecca Deel
“Only until we’re inside the bank.”
“In,” Josh murmured over the comm.
“Copy.”
Ethan opened the door and walked inside. As soon as Rio cleared the door, he moved away from Ethan. If these guys wanted to shoot him and Ethan, he wasn’t going to make it easy for them by lining up like ducks in a shooting gallery.
Aaron lay on the floor in front of teller row. Except for Serena, the other hostages were lying, faces down, near the back wall. The men looked angry. Several of the women were crying. To the right of Aaron stood the gunman pressing the muzzle of a 9 mm weapon against Serena’s head. Lava boiled in his gut. Doug Walsh.
The guy guarding the other hostages turned. Rio frowned. Tom Gates, the EMT he’d taught in his medic classes.
“What’s he doing in here?” Gates demanded of his crew mate. “He’s with the bodyguard school outside of town.”
Walsh pressed the weapon harder into Serena’s temple, causing her to flinch. “You trying to pull something, Blackhawk?”
He inclined his head toward Aaron. “He needs a medic. Kincaid is an excellent medic.”
Down the short hallway, a drill started up. Rio eased the mike bag from his shoulder and crossed the lobby to crouch by Aaron’s side. Walsh dragged Serena a couple feet further away, a sneer on his face.
“Locked on,” Alex murmured. “Clear shot.”
“Secondary target acquired,” Quinn said. “No visual on the other targets.”
Which meant Josh and Nate were going in blind. Rio unzipped his bag. If the other two men noticed his Durango teammates before Josh and Nate took them down, they would raise the alarm. A single misstep would cost Serena her life and that of her unborn child.
He glanced at Ethan who gave a slight nod. Rio turned his attention to Aaron. His friend was still unconscious. There were two gashes on the side and one on the back of his head, all needing stitches. He ripped open a package of gauze, tried to stem the bleeding from the worst cut, but the blood continued to flow freely.
Rio turned to Serena who was carefully not looking at her father. He’d forgotten about her aversion to blood. “Serena, is Aaron taking blood thinner?”
She gave a slight nod.
Not what he wanted to hear. “Ethan, Aaron needs to be in a hospital right now. If he doesn’t get treatment, he could die.”
“Oh, man,” Gates moaned. “I didn’t sign on for this. You said no one else would get hurt.”
No one else? Was he talking about Sutton? Maybe Walsh killed the other man.
“Shut up,Tommy,” Walsh snapped. “You’re the super medic, Kincaid. Treat him.”
“He needs meds to help his blood clot. There’s also a very good chance he has a subdural hematoma.” He shoved his hand into his bag for a packet of QuickClot and poured the contents in the cuts and covered the wounds. This would at least control the external bleeding. If Aaron had internal bleeding like Rio suspected, only a doctor could save his friend.
“All right, Walsh,” Ethan said. “You’re the one in control. What do you want in exchange for Aaron’s release?”
Satisfaction bloomed on Walsh’s face. “Safe passage out of here, Blackhawk, and you can cart the old geezer to the hospital.”
“What do you want in return for the safety of the other hostages?”
“A car, no cops in sight all the way to the county line. You come after me, this pretty blond dies.”
“And if I follow your instructions?” Ethan asked, voice soft, inching to the right.
Oh, man. Rio’s gaze shifted to Gates while the police chief engaged Walsh in conversation. He caught the EMTs attention and whispered, “Don’t do this, Tom. You’re throwing your life away for nothing.”
The other man swallowed hard. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand.”
“He’s my uncle. I owe him.”
“You owe him your life? Because that is what’s at stake. You have a choice to make, one which determines your future.” If he made the wrong one, Gates wouldn’t have a future and Rio couldn’t find it in his heart to feel sorry for him.
The other man’s face hardened. “Then I choose blood. I’m tired of barely making a living.”
So be it. Gates was no longer Rio’s priority. If things went south, the EMT belonged to Quinn. He shifted his attention to Serena. She was pale and her hands were shaking. “Serena, look at me, sugar.” Her gaze locked with his. “Stay with me.”
Walsh glared at him. “Shut up, Kincaid.” He raised his voice. “Springer, what’s taking so long? Did you get them or not?”
Rio shifted his weight as Gates moved closer to the hallway leading to the lock boxes.
“No shot,” Quinn murmured.
A glance told Rio the EMT had moved far enough that the concrete column blocked Quinn’s line of sight. Guess they were going with the alternate plan. He pulled his mike bag out of the way with his right hand, giving himself clear path to Serena. A slight nod at Ethan.
The police chief eased his right hand behind his back. “You want safe passage, Walsh? I’ll give it to you. But the only hostage you walk out of here with is me.”
Serena’s lips trembled. When she opened her mouth, Rio shook his head. She didn’t need to draw attention to herself. She subsided as tears trickled down her cheeks.
The other man gave a bark of laughter. “Guess you have a death wish, Chief. You’re too much trouble to keep around for long.”
“Something is wrong, Uncle Doug,” Gates said. “Adam and Ryan should have been here by now.” He swung around, aiming his weapon at Rio, his voice rising steadily higher with each statement. “You’re not just a medic, are you? Where are your friends? I bet they hurt Adam and his brother. You’re a dead man, Rio.” His finger tightened on the trigger of his weapon.
“Now,” Ethan said, pulling his weapon and firing on Gates. The EMT flew backward and fell spread-eagled on his back less than a foot from the hostages.
Weapon fire sounded from down the hall. Walsh roared in anger at Ethan for shooting his nephew and shifted his gun toward the police chief. The window at the front of the bank shattered. A large hole opened in Walsh’s forehead.
At the same time, Rio sprang for Serena as screams from the other female hostages filled the bank. He caught her just before she hit the ground, Walsh’s body dead weight against her back. Rio wrapped her in his arms as he eased her to the floor, keeping his body between her and the carnage in the bank. “Do me a favor and don’t look, sugar. I like these boots.”
A light swat on his back was his response.
“You okay?”
“I think so.”
Ethan kicked Gates’ gun away from his limp hand. “Rio?”
“She’s fine. Not a scratch on her.” His next concern was the baby.
Otter Creek officers swarmed the bank as Josh ran from the hall to his father’s side. “Rod,” he snapped. “Get those EMTs in here.”
The detective motioned for the medics and pointed them at Aaron, then directed one of the officers to the room with the lock boxes.
Rio eased back enough from Serena to look her in the eye. “Go to the hospital to make sure you and your baby are all right, sugar.”
Her eyes welled. “Rio, the baby hasn’t moved.”
His heart clenched. “Any injuries to your stomach? Did you fall or did they hit you?”
She shook her head.
Ethan dropped to his knees beside her. He wrapped his arms around her, his gaze spearing Rio. “Talk to me.”
“Take your wife to the hospital.”
“I thought you said she wasn’t injured.”
“It’s just a precaution. The doc will want to monitor her and the baby for a while, do an ultrasound.”
The police chief paled. “Is the baby all right?”
“Not moving at the moment.”
Ethan scooped Serena into his arms and stood. “Rod, you have the scene. Call in Nick to help you process. I�
�m taking Serena to the hospital.”
“Yes, sir.”
The EMTs rolled the stretcher with Aaron out the door, followed by Ethan carrying his wife.
Rio grabbed his mike bag. He spared a glance for Gates, then hiked his bag over his shoulder as Nate strode to his side. At that moment, his cell phone vibrated in his pocket.
He pulled it out, glanced at the screen. “It’s Zane. He knows who’s behind the attacks on Darcy.”
“Who is it?”
“He wants me to call him.”
“Outside. It’s a madhouse in here. You won’t be able to hear anything.”
He and his teammate returned to the sidewalk a short distance from the first responders. Rio called Zane. “Who?”
“Paul Cambridge, the history professor at the community college.”
He frowned. “What’s his connection to Darcy?”
“The house. He’s a direct descendant of Charles Rockingham.”
“You sure?”
“Please. Of course I’m sure. He’s researched Morgan silver dollars and Darcy’s house for the past six months. There’s a trail of emails between him and Troy Sutton, including a contentious discussion of payment once the job is complete. Cambridge is the man behind the attacks on Trent’s sister.”
“Thanks, Z. I owe you one.” He ended the call and relayed the information to Nate.
“Let’s go have a talk with Cambridge.” A cold smile crossed his friend’s face. “I’ll persuade him to talk.”
Rio found his team leader on the sidewalk, frown on his face, phone in his hand. “What’s wrong?”
“Del’s not answering her phone.”
Ice poured through his veins. He called Darcy, then Mason. No answer from either one. He glanced at Nate, who had his phone pressed to his ear. A grim expression settled on his face as he shook his head. Rio activated his mic. “Alex?”
“I called Ivy. Nothing. We’re coming down.”
He turned to Josh. “Zane said Paul Cambridge is a descendant of Charles Rockingham.”
“He’s after the silver dollars.”
Alex and Quinn ran across the square and met the rest of Durango at the SUVs. “Trent?” Quinn asked.
“No answer,” Nate said.
Trent was down. They loaded their gear in the vehicles and sped toward the Victorian. Rio just prayed they weren’t too late.
CHAPTER FORTY
“What did you do to them, Professor Cambridge?” Darcy gaze dropped to the black weapon in the history teacher’s hand before refocusing on his face.
“I drugged them. They’ll be fine. You won’t be so lucky. You’ve been nothing but trouble since the moment you arrived in town.”
She glanced at Stella, who was the closest to her. Her breathing seemed untroubled and deep. Cambridge could be lying. He didn’t have an incentive to be honest. He’d made it plain he planned to kill her. She had to help the others. What about Mason? Had he been drugged, too?
“What do you want, Professor?”
“Don’t play the innocent with me, Ms. St. Claire. You know exactly what I want.”
Fury flooded her body, giving her much needed courage. “The silver dollars.” She wished she’d never heard of those things or bought the house. The lives of her brother and friends meant more to her than any treasure or house.
“Hand them over and I’ll make sure your death is painless.”
Nice. Some incentive to cooperate. Die a painful death or die an easy death. Too bad for him she wasn’t choosing either option. “You’re behind all the accidents and break-ins. Why? It’s just money.” And not that much if what she and Mason found in the hearth was the remnant of Rockingham’s coins.
“On the contrary. Those coins are my legacy.”
Darcy frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Charles Rockingham was my great grandfather.”
Heat seared her cheeks. “Why didn’t you buy the house? It sat empty for three years.”
“I didn’t know about Rockingham or his treasure until I researched my genealogy during the summer. You can’t imagine the thrill of discovering my connection to this amazing house and Otter Creek’s history.” He scowled. “The Bond woman’s family rejected my offer. They wanted too much money.”
Footsteps in the hallway, then, “Darcy, why did you stop playing? Your music was beautiful.”
“Mason, run!”
Cambridge grabbed her arm and yanked her in front of him, gun pressed to her side. “If you do, she dies.”
Mason raised his hands. “What’s this about?”
“The silver dollars.” When she tried to free herself, the hold on her arm tightened like a vise. She flinched.
“Don’t hurt her.” Rio’s cousin took two steps forward. “Let Darcy go and I’ll give you what you want.”
“You have the coins?” Suspicion rang in his voice.
“I know where Rockingham hid them.” He extended one of his hands. “Give her to me and I’ll show you.”
A hard shove sent her careening into Mason. He steadied her. “The others?” he murmured in her ear.
“Drugged.”
“Show me the coins. Now.” Cambridge aimed his weapon at them. “Otherwise, I’ll kill you both and search for the coins myself.”
She glared at him. “You broke in here several times and found nothing.”
A snort. “Who could find anything in this firetrap? That old lady had more garbage in here than a landfill. The search will be easy now.”
What were they going to do? If Cambridge killed her and Mason, what prevented him from killing the others? They would remember him taking pictures. If Cambridge let the others live, Ethan would be after him in a heartbeat. Grim determination filled her. She couldn’t let him murder everyone in this house.
The professor waggled his gun. “Move.”
Mason released Darcy’s arms and nudged her ahead of him, placing his body between her and the gun. Her eyes stung at his attempt to protect her from Cambridge. She walked toward the stairs as slow as she dared. She didn’t want to give him an excuse for shooting Mason in the back. What she wouldn’t give for a weapon right now.
Since that wasn’t an option, she needed to use something in her bedroom. Most of her belongings were still in storage. She had a lot of candles, a few clothes, flat shoes, hairbrush, a handheld mirror, nothing that might save their lives. Near the top of the stairs, Darcy’s cell phone rang.
“Don’t answer it,” Cambridge said.
A minute later, the phone in Mason’s pocket rang. Darcy’s heart leaped in her chest. Very few people had Mason’s number. His father, Rio, maybe the police chief, his boss. The successive phone calls gave her hope the caller was Rio. If he didn’t get an answer from either of them, he would arrive within minutes and walk into a trap. Think, Darcy. There must be some way to turn the tide. She didn’t want to lose Rio.
She and Mason trudged to her bedroom. She cleared the doorway and scanned the room. Her gaze fell on the box of hurricane lamps she from Schiller’s store. The glass was too thin to be much of a defense. One of the wooden bases might work provided she got her hands on one.
“Where are they?” Cambridge demanded.
Mason gestured to the fireplace. “Under a stone in the hearth.” He crossed the room with Darcy and knelt in front of the stones.
“Not you. Her.”
Rats. Cambridge would’ve been distracted watching Mason, giving her the chance to grab a lamp base. “I’m not sure I can move the stone without help.”
“You’ll manage if you want your friend to live a few minutes longer.”
She scowled at the professor over her shoulder, then sat on the hearth. Hand on the stone, she rocked it back and forth, gradually moving it off the hiding place.
Cambridge inched closer, attention fixed on the stone in her hand. “Hurry.”
Darcy slid her hand into the opening, cradled the stone in both hands, and shifted it to the floor. “In here.”
“Bring the coins to me.”
The professor expected more than one coin. What would he do when he realized there weren’t any more? She reached into the hole where Mason had returned the bag. Wrapping her fingers around the fabric, she pulled the nearly empty bag from its hiding place. Mason stood and helped Darcy to her feet.
“Give them to me.”
She started toward him when Mason stopped her with an arm across her stomach.
“Toss it,” he said.
The other man scowled.
Mason shifted so his body blocked her from moving closer. Stubborn like his cousin. Darcy balled the bag in her fist and tossed it toward Cambridge.
He grabbed it in mid-air. Shock, then rage filled his face. “Where are the rest of them? My great grandfather had three hundred silver dollars hidden when he died.”
“How do you know the exact number of silver dollars?”
“I found the journal where he recorded the amount. Now, where are they?”
Rio’s cousin moved so he was standing squarely in front of Darcy. She’d never have a better chance. She reached behind her into the box and grabbed a wooden base. Pitiful defense against a bullet, but it was all she had.
She straightened, shifted enough to see Cambridge. “That’s all we found. There aren’t anymore.”
“I don’t believe you.” Cambridge’s voice rose. “You stole them from me. The whole town is talking about how much money you’re spending here and at the store. You’re spending my inheritance.” He aimed at the weapon at Darcy.
“No!” Mason stepped in front of her.
The weapon discharged.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Rio and his teammates parked two houses down, bailed from the SUVs, and approached the house in total silence. Weapons in hand, Josh signaled the others to circle around to the back, for Rio to follow him.
He longed to storm the place, knew he couldn’t. Moving in haste could cost Darcy and the others their lives. If they weren’t already dead. Pain speared his heart at that thought, followed quickly by resolve to exact revenge if Cambridge had taken away the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.