by Debra Webb
Going in through one of the doors was out of the question. Few people bothered with the home security window strips, only the glass breaks. Break a window and the alarm was triggered. Raise a window and nothing.
Didn’t matter in this case. The windows were locked, and without the necessary tools they were going to stay that way.
Then Eve spotted a lucky break: A doggie door in the garage door.
Putting her bag through first, she wiggled through the hinged door. Inside the garage, she pulled out her flashlight and had a look around. The door was a lucky break, but the pet for which it was installed might not be so. After a careful survey of the garage, she felt secure there was no need to worry. No dog food.
Then she spotted the massive bag of cat food. Not a doggie door, a cat door.
The door leading from the garage into the house would no doubt be a part of the security network. Again, luck was with Eve. Another pet door. All she had to do was wiggle through without jarring the entry door’s magnetic strip loose from its connector strip.
Slowly Eve inched her shoulders, then her torso, through the little swinging door. She had to angle her hips to get them through. She held her breath, praying that she didn’t disturb the contact.
Relief washed over her as she scooted onto her hands and knees in the kitchen.
Two lucky breaks in a row. That wouldn’t hold out.
Eve tucked the Beretta into her waistband and deposited on the kitchen counter the other tools she’d brought along. She walked quietly through the house until she found the owner’s suite.
Moonlight filtered in through the blinds, providing just enough light for Eve to make her way through the room without tripping over anything.
Thankfully Rebecca James was alone.
Eve wrapped her fingers around the butt of the Beretta and moved in close to the sleeping woman.
She’d just opened her mouth to spout an order to get up, when Rebecca rolled to her back and stuck a Ruger in her face.
“Don’t you dare move,” Rebecca threatened. “I will blow your head off.”
Crystal Lake, 3:00 a.m.
J.T. SAT STRAIGHT UP. Something was wrong.
He surveyed the room. Where was Eve?
He threw the sheet back and crossed to the bathroom.
No Eve.
He checked the living room and kitchen.
With dread settling like a rock on his chest, he checked the porch and yard.
No Eve.
No car.
“Damn it.” He rushed back to the bedroom and tugged on his jeans and shoes. He grabbed his T-shirt and the keys to his bike.
He knew where she would be.
Eve was convinced Rebecca was the one behind Gold Cost Life’s fraud. Obviously she’d decided to prove her theory.
If Rebecca was desperate enough to set this bizarre chain of events in motion, she was desperate enough to do anything.
Even commit murder.
Two men and one woman were already dead.
Chapter Eighteen
Chicago, 4:40 a.m.
“You should have stayed gone.” Rebecca shook her head and made that annoying tsk sound as she paced her living room. “Then everything would have worked out exactly as planned.”
“That’s why you always have a backup plan,” Eve advised.
Rebecca waved the Ruger in Eve’s face. “Really? I doubt any kind of plan is going to save you now.”
“Maybe you’re right.” Eve relaxed in the chair Rebecca had secured her to. She wasn’t very good at tying knots. Eve had almost worked free the ones holding her hands behind the chair. It did kind of tick her off that she’d used the nylon rope Eve had brought with her.
“I guess Terrence’s backup plan didn’t save him. Or his property caretaker.” Maybe J.T. wasn’t convinced, but Eve was absolutely certain that Rebecca had killed them both.
“I thought using your gun was a nice touch.” Rebecca tapped the barrel of the Ruger against her chin. “Even if it was damaged in the explosion, they can do amazing things with evidence analysis these days.”
“How do you know your hired help won’t do the same to you that you did to Terrence?” Eve didn’t really care about the answer. She was just buying time. Keeping her talking. “I counted at least five men on your team.”
“They don’t know anything. Contract workers. The kind that will do anything for money and never ask questions. They’re long gone by now. Moved on to the next job—just as you should have done.” She laughed. “Did you really think he was worth coming back here for? A man like J.T. would never settle for a con artist like you.”
Fury ignited low in Eve’s belly. “I guess he didn’t fall for you, either.”
Rebecca smiled. “I never intended it to be anything more than a one-night stand. I sealed his trust that night. My focus was on prodding Terrence to take care of business.”
“What’d you promise him? A happily ever after?” For a guy twenty-five years her senior and likely very lonely, that had to be a tempting offer.
“In paradise no less,” Rebecca confirmed. “The Caymans. He wanted to buy a boat and fish all day.” She rolled her eyes. “As if.”
“How could he have expected to end up with a woman like you?” Eve said aloud what Rebecca was no doubt thinking. “Terrence had to know that it was about the money.”
“Really. That old bag Jamison was more his speed. He let her get to him; she had him feeling so sorry for her.” Rebecca smirked. “A very bad move on his part.”
“He probably never saw it coming,” Eve suggested, wanting details. The police would need details to clear J.T.
“Absolutely not. He liked all those kinky sex games.” She shuddered. “Getting him to try the whole asphyxiation thing was a piece of cake. Then I just kicked the chair out from under him so to speak. Too bad.”
Eve flinched. She stiffened to ensure she didn’t let her arms sag. Her hands were free. There was no way to free her ankles. She would just have to work with what she had. “Who was the man who gave me my instructions?” she prodded. “Obviously it wasn’t Terrence.”
“Actually it was. I found you on the Internet, and he acted as your point of contact. Of course, the last call wasn’t from him. That was me.”
“Voice changer?”
“State-of-the-art,” Rebecca explained. “You can order anything on the Internet these days. When it became necessary to make that final call to you, I worked at the settings until I was satisfied. And it worked exactly as planned.”
Eve laughed. “So, you’re the one who failed to disconnect.”
Fury whipped across the other woman’s face. “What are you talking about?”
“The debrief we held,” Eve reminded her. “The final call. When you ended the call, you didn’t disconnect. That’s how I knew what you had planned for J.T.”
Rebecca tilted her chin in defiance of the accusation. “Oh well. Your showing back up just gave me the opportunity to clean up one last loose end.”
“Oh well,” Eve echoed. She had to wait for the right moment, that fleeting opportunity that would make all the difference.
“I think for you,” Rebecca said, “I’ll shoot you in that pretty face. Then untie you, of course, and fire a couple shots from your Beretta—using your hand just to make sure all the bases are covered. When the authorities arrive, I’ll tell them how you broke into my house. I’m sure they’ll find trace fibers where you crawled through the pet doors. You attacked me and I retaliated—end of story. You and J.T. knew I was onto your scam. His calls to me will document my statements.”
“Too bad J.T. wasn’t invited to this little party,” Eve suggested. “Then you could kill two birds with one stone.”
“Oh, he’ll get his,” Rebecca said, certain of herself. “Someone has to go to jail for ripping off all those poor souls. It might as well be him.”
What a bitch.
“The problem as I see it,” Eve said, “is that your backup plan is a li
ttle thin. Anemic, even.”
“How do you figure that? You’re here all tied up. I have the gun.” She waved the Ruger. “I’m weary of the chitchat, so why don’t we see who has the best plan?”
“I guess you didn’t factor in J.T. showing up un-invited.” Eve sent a pointed glance at the door behind Rebecca.
When Rebecca looked back, Eve took that one fleeting opportunity. She propelled herself toward the woman and head butted her with every ounce of strength she possessed.
The Ruger clattered to the floor. Fingers burrowed deep into Eve’s hair. Eve went for her throat. Rebecca twisted. They hit the floor in a tangle of arms, legs and chair.
Eve scrambled for the weapon.
Rebecca got to it first.
Eve swung her forearm upward, hitting the barrel of the weapon pointed in her face.
A bullet exploded from the muzzle. It whizzed past her head and plowed into the hardwood floor.
No way was Eve going to let this bitch kill her.
Eve’s arms shook as she attempted to swing the barrel away from her face once more.
“Rebecca!” J.T.’s voice echoed in the room.
Both women froze.
“It’s over, Rebecca,” J.T. warned.
The other woman’s gaze remained locked on Eve’s. Neither moved nor even dared to breathe.
“The police know everything,” he went on. “It’s over.”
Rebecca’s face twisted. A scream exploded from her lips. She abruptly rolled free of Eve, scrambled to her feet and leveled her weapon on J.T.
Her ankles still bound, Eve lost her balance when she attempted to get to her feet. By the time she was standing, the reality of the situation had sunk into her brain.
J.T had come…unarmed.
The Ruger was leveled on his chest.
Eve held her breath, railed at her brain to come up with a plan. A way to turn this around.
“Just put the gun down,” J.T. urged gently. “That won’t change anything now. The Colby Agency traced the Cayman account and the dummy corporation back to Terrence, who had listed you as a shareholder. The truth is out. It’s over.”
Eve wanted to look at J.T., but she couldn’t take her eyes off Rebecca. The look of desperation in her eyes, the determined expression on her face, fore-shadowed what would happen next.
Surrender was not an option.
“You’re right,” Rebecca said, her voice abruptly calm, her face suddenly relaxed. “It is over. For you.”
Eve launched herself at the other woman.
The weapon fired.
They crashed together against the stone hearth.
Pain registered in Eve’s skull. She grimaced.
Think!
Where was the gun? What was wrong with her?
The room shifted. Blackness narrowed Eve’s vision. J.T. called her name.
Had he been hit?
Or maybe she had….
Chapter Nineteen
Colby Agency, 9:15 a.m.
Victoria dropped her purse behind her desk. She was exhausted. The last several hours had been spent at the Mercy General E.R.
Perhaps another cup of coffee would pep her up.
Poor J.T. Victoria shook her head.
The nightmare—
“Victoria.”
Simon’s voice boomed in the room a split second before he burst through the door.
Victoria squared her shoulders, focused her weary attention on the man who was clearly disturbed. “Is there news from the hospital?” She’d only just left. Surely nothing else—
Simon held up a hand for her to wait. “Ian is transferring a call to your desk.”
What on earth was he talking about? Fear detonated in Victoria’s veins. “Jamie?” The name was a harsh whisper on her lips. Merri and Jane had taken Jamie to school together. Two of Victoria’s best men had accompanied them. Jane had confirmed that Jamie was in her classroom and all was well. Jane would remain inside the school for the duration of the day. Two more of Victoria’s staff would continue surveillance outside the school. Surely nothing had happened in those few minutes.
“No, no,” Simon urged. “Jamie is fine. A call came in,” he explained. “Ian is—”
“I’ve routed the call to your conference table,” Ian announced as he entered Victoria’s office. He closed the door behind him. “The call is set to be recorded. We’re ready when you are.”
Simon gestured for her to have a seat at the head of her conference table.
Victoria moved to take the seat. “I’m confused. Who’s on the line?” Her first thought was Lucas or Jim. But there wouldn’t be any reason to record a call from either of them.
“The man who claims responsibility for the abduction attempts,” Ian explained. “He says he has an offer for you.”
When Simon and Ian had taken their seats, Victoria reached for the button that would open the call to the conference table’s speaker system.
“This is Victoria Colby-Camp.” Her voice sounded strong despite the trembling rampant inside her.
“Ah, Victoria.”
She analyzed the voice. Didn’t recognize it. “Identify yourself, sir.”
A vile laugh echoed through the speakers.
A chill swept over Victoria.
“I’m going to leave that up to you to determine,” the voice said. “I will, however, give you a number of clues to my identity.”
Simon reached for a notepad and poised his pen in preparation for taking notes.
“You’ve overestimated your ability to hold my attention,” Victoria warned. “State your business, or this conversation is over.”
Silence radiated in the air. Five seconds…ten.
Anxiety tightened in Victoria’s throat. Had her move been too bold?
“We had a mutual friend,” he offered smugly. “He had a tremendous influence on your son’s life.”
The fear turned to stone cold terror.
“Errol Leberman told me many things about you and your two husbands as well as your agency. I will say that I’m rather disappointed your brilliant staff has been unable to find me, or even to identify me. That said, I’m still willing to do business. I can tolerate incompetence as long as the price is right.”
“Get to the point.” Victoria would not be baited by this man.
“I will call off the planned abduction of your precious granddaughter for the sum of ten million dollars. That full amount will be electronically deposited in an account of my choosing.”
Startled by the man’s blunt offer, Victoria looked from Ian to Simon. Their faces reflected the same astonishment.
“Speechless, I see,” the voice taunted.
Victoria took a moment, weighed her options and made her decision. “Again, you overestimate yourself, sir. First, be warned that my people will find you. Perhaps not today, but soon.”
“I would,” he warned with swaggering arrogance, “tread with caution—”
“I am not finished yet,” Victoria interrupted, her determination mounting in tandem with his arrogance. “We will find you. So, you tread cautiously, sir. Secondly, the Colby Agency does not negotiate with terrorists. And you, sir, are a terrorist. Stay away from my family, or you will end up exactly like your friend Leberman.”
Victoria hit the button, ending the call.
For a long moment Ian and Simon said nothing.
Uncertainty suddenly thumped hard inside Victoria. Or perhaps it was her racing heart.
“You did well, Victoria.” Ian gave her an acknowledging nod. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
“I agree,” Simon chimed in. “However,” he looked from Victoria to Ian and back, “we must be vigilant. This is far from over. Our position may make him more determined to accomplish his goal.”
Unfortunately Simon was correct.
The threat was by no means over.
At least now they had a voice…and confirmation that the threat was from the past, history that had already been writt
en and couldn’t be undone.
Colby history.
Victoria stood. “I need coffee.” She lifted her chin in defiance of her own quivering emotions. “And an update from the hospital.”
Victoria would deal with this threat the same way she did all threats: one step, one day at a time, until it was neutralized.
She needed Jim back here. He might recognize the voice of the caller.
She paused at the door and turned to Ian. “Try to get my son on the line. We can’t hold off on contacting him any longer. Maybe he can identify that voice.”
Victoria squared her shoulders and walked out of her office. Evidently this threat had its roots in Leberman. One or more of his scattered minions had chosen to carry on his twisted legacy. To stir up the past once more. To start the war again.
This time Victoria was going to end it.
For good.
Chapter Twenty
Mercy General Hospital, 10:00 a.m.
J.T. paced the room. What was taking so long?
To his relief the door opened. The nurse pushed the wheelchair into the room. Eve sat slumped in the rolling chair, a stark white bandage on her forehead.
J.T.’s fears and anxiety lifted a fraction. “How’d it go?”
“It went,” Eve grumbled.
“She has a nasty concussion,” the nurse said as she assisted Eve into the waiting bed. “The doctor will be in soon to go over his findings.”
“I’m ready to get out of here,” Eve stated.
“We’ll have to see what the doctor says, Ms. Mattson,” the nurse reminded before hurrying back to her station.
J.T. moved to the bedside and surveyed Eve for the hundredth time. “How’s the pain?” The doctor wouldn’t order a painkiller until they understood the severity of the head injury.
“What do you think?” Eve growled. “It stinks.” J.T. had to smile. The way she was complaining, she had to be okay.
When that gun had fired the second time, he’d thought he would lose his mind until he determined that Eve wasn’t hit. He’d quickly realized that the headfirst ram into the rock hearth had done some serious damage. The struggle over the gun with Rebecca that had followed still made J.T.’s teeth grind. He’d managed to gain control of the weapon and to subdue her at the same time.