I knew what that meant: the worst was yet to come.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
An hour later, I realized that Jamie wasn’t coming. Apparently, the police weren’t either. Both of those facts left me unsettled.
Chase had been pacing. He checked the door again and even tried to boost me up to the window a second time. I managed to reach the sill, but the window itself was nailed shut, and I couldn’t make it budge for the life of me.
Frustration, agitation, and anxiety all felt material in the room, like we could actually touch them.
Finally, I heard something outside. A car door slammed. Someone was here.
Could it be Jamie? The police?
My heart raced.
I glanced at Chase. He’d heard it also.
A moment later, footsteps stomped across the floor above us. More than one set. Then the door opened.
I blinked against the light.
And, in that instant, my heart sank. It wasn’t Jamie or the police.
It was Victor.
“I hope you’re both enjoying your stay here,” he muttered as he lumbered down the stairs with a gun in his hand.
His gaze was set on Chase, and a hunger filled his eyes. Hunger for vengeance, I realized.
Had he come alone? What about that other set of footsteps I’d heard?
As soon as the thought entered my mind, another shadow crossed over the doorway at the top of the stairs.
It was Peyton. And she had Jamie with her, a gun to her head.
I gasped. No. Not Jamie . . .
“We found your friend snooping in the woods,” Victor said. “We caught her right before she was able to call the police. Lucky us.”
“Please don’t hurt her. She has nothing to do with this.” My voice trembled.
“She didn’t—until she inserted herself.” Victor stopped in front of us, a smug look in his eyes.
He thought he was going to get away with all of this, I realized. He thought he was smarter than Chase and me, and that he held too much leverage over us. His arrogance only flamed my fire more. I had to figure out a way to beat him at this game he was playing.
“People have to learn there are consequences for their actions,” Victor continued. “I certainly had to learn that.”
“What do you want from us, Victor?” Chase had ensured that he was between Victor and me. He had a habit of doing that, and I loved him for it.
Victor smirked. “I’m glad you asked. Because I do have something you can do. If you complete your mission, I’ll let you all go. If you don’t, your friend will die. Any questions?”
Chase scowled. “Yeah, I have a lot of questions, starting with: What exactly is this mission?”
Victor smirked again. “It’s fairly simple. You just have to break into Alexander Cartwright’s house, steal a few prized possessions, and get out without being caught. Sounds easy enough, doesn’t it?”
My stomach plunged. Certainly I hadn’t heard the man right. But one look at his cold, cocky expression, and I knew I had.
Break into Alexander Cartwright’s home? Steal? This was getting worse and worse.
“Just how are we supposed to do that?” Chase asked.
“Oh, I have a plan all figured out for you. All you have to do is follow my instructions.”
Chase shook his head. “You’re trying to get us killed, aren’t you?”
Victor’s smile was all the answer we needed.
I had no idea how we were going to get out of this. Because I faced the death of my friend on one side and being charged with a home invasion on the other.
* * *
Two hours later, nighttime had fallen. Peyton had given both Chase and me dark clothes to wear, and Victor had spent the last ninety minutes running through the plan to get inside Alexander’s place. This plan included bypassing a security guard, eluding an alarm system, and studying the blueprint of the man’s home so we could determine exactly where his horseshoe collection was located.
No one had to say anything for me to realize there was no way out of this. If Chase and I managed to go through this without being shot and killed, Victor and Peyton would take the money and escape before they were caught. Meanwhile, Chase and I would be charged with the crime. Who knew where that would leave Jamie?
And none of this would have ever happened if I hadn’t checked that Friend Finder app on my phone. If I had minded my own business. If I had stayed out of things.
Meanwhile, Chase had been seen making threats toward Alexander. He’d been on his property. A dead body had been located near the apartment where he was staying.
I had to hand it to Victor and Peyton: they’d meticulously planned this down to the last detail. It would look exactly like Chase was behind this and doing it for revenge.
“Let’s roll.” Victor stood and put his gun in his waistband. “We need to get on the road. Time’s a-wasting.”
I felt sick as I climbed into the van. Peyton drove. Victor sat in the back with Chase and me, but Jamie was beside him. His gun pressed into her rib cage. With every bump of the road, my anxiety built. It was like there was a ticking time bomb in the background.
I’m sorry, Jamie mouthed.
My heart broke. She should have never been involved in this. All of this was my fault. Again. If I’d just minded my own business . . .
Chase sat beside me, crouched like a tiger waiting to strike. His eyes stayed on Victor’s gun, and I could tell he wanted to lunge but he knew better. I leaned against the carpeted wall, trying not to let the familiar yet putrid smell of the van’s interior make me sick.
I wasn’t a criminal. I liked to help people overcome their problems, and somehow I’d found myself helping Victor overcome how to get caught doing a crime instead.
“Where are your cronies?” I asked.
“They’re preparing things for our departure. As soon as we have these horseshoes, we’re out of here. There’s no market for them here. We’re going to the foreign market.”
The Creeper Van pulled up at the edge of Alexander’s property. I stole a glance at Chase. He looked just as preoccupied as I did as his gaze remained focused on Victor’s gun. I was certain he was trying to formulate a plan right now. When we had a moment alone, maybe he’d share it with me.
Please, God, let it be a good one.
“Here you go,” Victor said, raising his gun and reminding us of all that was at stake. “Have fun. And remember—mess up and your friend dies.”
“There’s got to be another way,” I pleaded. There was so much room for error. The pressure started to get to me.
“There’s no other way. You’ve got an hour. You know what items to look for. Now, you better get a move on.”
I crouched in the van and waited as Chase slid the door open. As soon as we hopped out, the van sped away.
Chase took my hand and led me toward the metal fence. Crickets chirped around us. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. Normally, those sounds would be soothing, but right now my soul felt numb.
“Holly . . .”
I looked up at Chase. Just as I did so, he pulled me to a stop and pressed his lips into mine.
“I don’t know how this is going to turn out,” he whispered as he stepped back.
“Let’s find out,” I said, my voice lackluster.
I pulled my black mask over my face, and Chase did the same. I wished I’d wake up and find this was all a dream. But I knew that wasn’t the case.
We scaled the fence surrounding the property. My feet landed hard on the grass on the other side, the impact reminding me of my earlier injuries.
With no time to dwell on that now, we darted toward the house. Victor had instructed us to hide behind the shrubs at the front of the house. Victor would call the security guard inside, posing as the police, and tell the guard that someone suspicious had been seen lurking outside the home.
When the guard came outside, Chase and I would slip inside. We’d grab the horseshoes and then get o
ut.
Hopefully, without being caught.
We waited until we heard the front door open. Chase kept watch. As soon as the man stepped out of the house and paced toward the front of the property, we slipped inside.
“We’ve got to go to the master bedroom.” Chase grabbed my hand and pulled me through the house. He’d studied the blueprints and must have been able to focus more than I had. He knew exactly where the horseshoe collection was.
We slipped into a dark room and closed the door. Chase wasted no time hurrying to the window and peering out.
“He’s still by the street,” Chase whispered. He rushed toward the dresser.
“What are you doing?”
“Grabbing this.” He reached between the mattresses and pulled out . . . a gun?
“How’d you know it was there?” I felt a bit speechless, as if Chase knew something I didn’t.
“A man like Alexander Cartwright? He wants to keep a weapon close in case there’s ever a home invasion. He has no kids, so between his mattresses is the most logical place. Rich, powerful people are always a target. Always.”
“Smart thinking.”
“Victor thinks he’s smarter than he is.” He tucked the gun into his waistband. “It’s in case we need it when we see Victor again.”
I nodded and swallowed hard. “Now, where are those horseshoes?”
Chase peered out the window again. “But the guard is headed back this way.”
“What are we going to do?”
“Proceed quietly.”
The front door opened and footsteps sounded inside. I couldn’t take the pressure of doing this much longer. Scenarios continued to play out in my head—scenarios where we got shot by the guard, where Chase and I ended up spending our lives in jail, or where Jamie died because of my actions.
“Look at this, Chase.” I stepped toward a bookcase. On display there were all kinds of horseshoes. Some were made into paperweights and others into tchotchke horses and cowboys and other animals. These were at least part of the collection.
“Those should work. At least for long enough that we can get Jamie and go. However, I think the more expensive ones are in his office.” Chase turned me toward him. “Holly, whatever we do, it’s going to require risk.”
I forced myself to nod. “Okay. Let’s do it.”
He stared at me another moment before nodding. “Okay.”
He grabbed the bag and began slipping the horseshoes inside.
I found a piece of paper in the nightstand and a pen, and I began scribbling a note.
“What are you doing?” Chase whispered.
“I’m writing an apology and promising we’ll return these as soon as we can.” I looked up, already knowing what his expression would be. Stupefied. I was right. “Look, it makes me feel better. I’m not a thief.”
A slow smile spread across his face. “You always surprise me, Holly.”
I finished writing the note and decided not to sign my name. Instead, I put the paper on the bookcase where the horseshoes had stood. Since I was wearing gloves, there shouldn’t be identifying markers that we’d been here. I preferred that things played out on this in my time, but I probably wouldn’t be that lucky.
Chase grasped the bag. “I’ve got the horseshoes. Now we have to figure out how to get out of here.”
I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. “Our hour is almost up.”
“We’re going to have to climb out of the window and make a run for it.”
Please, Lord, help our plan work!
It would only be by God’s grace and mercy that all of this worked out. I certainly couldn’t do it on my own.
I walked toward the door and peered out. The guard walked down the hallway, chatting on his phone with someone. He stepped inside a doorway across the hall.
Into the bathroom.
Now was our time to go.
“Now,” I muttered.
“As soon as I open this window, the alarm is going to go off. We’re going to have to move fast. Understand?”
I nodded, wishing I was more athletic and that I’d trained more for endurance. Really, all the experience I had lately was in running for my life.
“Here goes,” Chase muttered.
He shoved the window up, and immediately, a siren began wailing overhead. Chase knocked the screen out and grabbed my hand, and we climbed from the window.
We ran as fast as possible toward the front. If we could just get over the fence, I’d feel better.
Shouting sounded behind us. I didn’t dare look back, but I could easily imagine the guard standing there. Would he have a gun? Would he use it?
As if to answer my question, a blast cut through the air.
The guard was firing.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Just as I cleared the fence, a bullet struck the post beside me. The sound was loud and clinking. The smell of hot metal filled the air.
That was close. Too close.
Chase heaved himself over the iron fence, and we dashed away. The van squealed to the side of the road, the back door opened, and we hopped inside. Peyton zoomed away before the door was even closed.
My chest heaved with exertion. Sweat had scattered across my forehead. My heartbeat pounded out of control.
I glanced at Jamie. She sat against the wall of the van, Victor’s gun still pressed into her side. She looked stoic—and my friend never looked stoic. If Peyton hit a bump, it could all be over for Jamie.
“Did you get the goods?” Victor asked. His eyes were wide with hunger and lust. I was surprised he didn’t have drool coming out of his mouth.
Chase nodded. “We did. Now you can let Jamie go. Holly too. This was never about them.”
“It’s not quite that easy.” Victor reached his free hand out. “Now, let me see.”
“Put the gun down.” Chase’s voice sounded hard and unyielding.
“You’re not the one calling the shots here,” Victor said through clenched teeth. His grip on Jamie must have tightened, because she let out a small gasp. “Need I remind you? Now, you have until the count of three or I pull the trigger. She’s no loss to me.”
Anger surged inside me. How dare he talk about my friend like that? My fingers dug into the gritty carpet beneath me.
He was going to kill us all, wasn’t he? Or, at least Jamie and me. Then he’d let Chase take the blame for everything. He’d probably arranged everything to make Chase look guilty. The e-mail. The stolen Jeep. The erratic behavior. He even had motive: everyone would think Chase wanted revenge for his brother’s death.
I couldn’t let that happen.
“One . . .” Victor started.
“Just give him the horseshoes,” Peyton yelled from the front seat. “Don’t make this more complicated than it has to be, Chase.”
“I’d venture to say you were the one making things complicated here, Peyton,” Chase said. “You manipulated me for your own gain. I don’t know how you live with yourself.”
“It’s easier when I have money. Lots of money.”
“Two . . .” Victor continued.
“Okay. I’ll give you proof.” Chase’s gaze softened, probably in an effort to defuse the situation.
I held my breath.
Instead of a horseshoe, his gun appeared.
This was my opening. If I was going to do something, it was now.
I lunged toward Peyton, throwing her off guard.
The van swerved toward the ditch alongside the road as she fought against me.
“What are you doing?” she screeched.
“Trying to let justice prevail,” I muttered, still fighting for control of the vehicle.
Behind me, Victor and Chase struggled. Their bodies flew from one side of the van to the other. Jamie had backed into a corner, trying to stay out of the way.
I had to concentrate on Peyton right now, though. As she elbowed me, I stumbled into the back of the van again. My gaze swept the floor and I saw . . . Victor’s gun
. He must have dropped it during his struggle.
As I grabbed the gun, what felt like an earthquake rattled the sides of the van as Chase and Victor went at each other.
“Stop the van,” I ordered Peyton, raising the gun to her head.
She kept going. I really—really—didn’t want to have to use this gun. Instead of making another empty threat, I drew my fist back and punched Peyton in the nose.
When she gasped, I jumped into the front seat and shoved her out of the way. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I grabbed the steering wheel and threw on brakes right before we careened into a ditch.
It wasn’t pretty, but I’d done it. As the van screeched to a halt, I raised the gun to Peyton before she could scramble away. “I wouldn’t do that,” I muttered.
I glanced back. Chase had Victor’s gun now, and he aimed it at Victor.
“You weren’t ever going to get away with this,” Chase said.
“My plan was perfect,” Victor growled as his wiped blood from his mouth.
“You never counted on Holly Anna Paladin sweeping onto the scene,” Chase said.
“Girlfriend, you were tough,” Jamie muttered from the other side of the van. “Remind me not to make you mad.”
Just then, sirens sounded around us.
Police cars.
Lots of police cars. They surrounded us from every direction.
“Come out. Your hands in the air!” an officer shouted.
Peyton climbed out first. “I don’t know what happened, Officer. These people jumped into our van and demanded that we do what they said. I was so scared. I’m so glad you found us.”
My stomach turned with disgust. How could this woman live with herself?
“You’ve been obsessed with your brother’s death,” Victor mumbled. “You have no idea the things he was involved with.”
Chase’s eyes lit. “What do you know?”
“I know he had it coming for him. He tangled with the wrong man. If Hugo hadn’t killed him, someone else would have.”
“Who’s Hugo?”
A spark ignited in Victor’s eyes. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
Random Acts of Malice (Holly Anna Paladin Mysteries Book 3) Page 21