Midnight Caller

by Leslie Tentler

  “You see? Kevlar, standard issue.” Carteris traveled across the grass and stood over them. “Completely predictable.”

  She worked her hand under the vest and felt the dry fabric of Trevor’s T-shirt. No blood. But she’d heard of policemen being severely injured from the bullet’s impact, even if it didn’t penetrate.

  “Nice of you to join us, Agent Rivette.” Carteris motioned with his gun. “Now get up. Inside, both of you.”

  Grimacing, Trevor slowly raised himself to a sitting position and Rain helped him to his feet. As they climbed the porch stairs with their captor behind them, she was aware of the way he used the stair railing for support. Hope leeched from her. He’d come here on a suicide mission. He had to know that.

  Reaching the doorstep, Carteris gave Trevor a shove. She gasped as he turned to find the gun pointed in his face.

  “I’m here to negotiate. I followed your instructions—”

  “There will be negotiations,” Carteris remarked. “Only not between you and me. Move to the bookcase, away from the door.”

  As they complied, Carteris walked to the turntable to replace the needle on Desiree’s record. Trevor’s words to Rain were hushed. “No matter what happens, if you get the chance, go.”

  She shook her head, touching his face. “Not without you.”

  He clasped her shoulders. “Listen to me. There’s help on the way, but I needed a chance to get you out first. Brian’s waiting at the highway—”

  He stopped speaking as Carteris approached.

  “Did you see my son, Agent?”

  Trevor looked him in the eye. “Do you mean hanging from the ceiling of the Ascension, or on a slab at the morgue? Either way, the answer is yes.”

  “Did he leave a note?”

  “To explain why he killed himself? That’s obvious. He couldn’t live with what you were doing. With what you were forcing him to do.” He lowered his voice. “Respect his memory. This has to stop now.”

  Carteris smiled coldly. “But we’re only getting started. We have a long night ahead of us.”

  “Your son cared about Rain. He tried to contact her before he died, and I believe he was going to warn her. At least let her go. Do it for him.”

  “Oliver was a weak, disobedient child. Perhaps if I’d been a harsher disciplinarian, he’d have turned out differently.” Carteris’s eyes gleamed behind his spectacles. “But you’d know something about that, wouldn’t you, Agent? Spare the rod and spoil the child? I’ve perused your medical records. You had a very unfortunate childhood. A litany of bruises and broken bones.”

  “You told Baptiste what my father did to me. That’s how he knew,” Trevor murmured in realization.

  “Armand felt threatened by your interest in the Ascension. He needed something he could use to shake you up a bit. Your medical files were a wealth of information, especially relating to your traumatic injury in your teen years.”

  “And you figured out my father was responsible?”

  Carteris caressed the gun’s barrel, obviously enjoying the control he held over them. “You’re not the only one with investigative skills, Agent. I did some sleuthing of my own. Given your medical history, the treating physician on your case had suspicions about how your head injury was sustained. Your family’s story seemed off to him. He recorded his doubts in your files—files to which I have access. The doctor’s retired now, but I gave him a call. He remembered your case clearly. In fact, he said he contacted the police with his theory, but Officer Rivette paid him a visit and threatened him. He let the matter drop.”

  Rain’s head buzzed with fear and exhaustion as the two men glared at one another in the shadowed room. Over the fireplace, the mantel clock struck midnight in deep baritone chords.

  “I wasn’t certain you’d come out here,” Carteris said. “Is she worth that much to you? You’re willing to die to see her one last time?”

  “Just let her go. She apparently means something to you, too.”

  He cut his stony gaze to Rain. “Help him take off that vest.”

  Trevor shrugged free of the windbreaker and let it fall to the floor. He slowly raised his arms out from his sides. Hesitantly, Rain did as she was told. She released the Velcro straps that held the vest in place. Wincing with the effort, Trevor pulled it over his head, and she thought again of the bullet that had nearly pierced his chest. He dropped the heavy garment on top of the discarded jacket.

  “Keep your arms out.” Carteris kept the gun pointed. Starting at Trevor’s ankles, he patted him for weapons but found none.

  “I figured you for a man who carries a backup.” He tossed the handcuffs he took from Trevor’s jeans pocket to Rain. “Cuff his hands behind his back, and don’t play games. I want to hear a snap when they close.”

  When she wavered, he swung the gun toward her. “Do it now!”

  “Do what he says, Rain.” Trevor looked at her, his eyes filled with compassion. Then he placed his wrists behind his back. Her hands trembling, it took several tries for her to successfully close the cuffs. When she was done, he briefly caught her fingers within his and squeezed. Emotion broke through the terror enveloping her, making her eyes mist.

  “So what happens now?” he asked.

  “That’s up to your lover.” Carteris took a step toward Rain and roughly cupped her jaw. He chuckled as she tried to wrench from his grasp.

  “He dies either way,” he said, no longer speaking to Trevor. “You decide how much pain he endures.”

  Carteris let go of her. Confident Trevor no longer posed a threat, he slid the handgun into the back waistband of his trousers. But he was only trading one weapon for another, Rain soon realized. He walked to the physician’s bag and returned brandishing the knife he’d had earlier that day.

  “How much do you love him? Shall I make it a quick death, or a lingering, painful one? If you really do care for him, you won’t want him to suffer overly.”

  An icy dread swept through her. Rain’s mind raced for some way to placate him, to buy a few more moments of precious time. Stepping in front of Trevor, she placed her hand on Carteris’s chest.

  “You don’t have to do this! I swear I’ll do anything you want.” If it would keep Trevor alive, she meant it. She’d sell her soul to keep him breathing. “Let me make up for Desiree’s betrayal. We’ll leave the country. Just the two of us.”

  Carteris stared at her. In the fading candlelight, he no longer looked distinguished, but monstrous and horrific. “I asked you a question. What will it be? A quick and easy death, or a slow one? It’s time to make your choice.”

  “But I choose you!” she cried, her face ashen. “What else do you want?”

  “I want you to prove it. I want you to tell me how to kill him.”

  Rain’s mouth opened soundlessly. She felt her sanity slipping by degrees.

  “Your vacillation is sealing your fate! I want a decision!”

  “Don’t do this to her,” Trevor demanded. “Finish this with me, not her!”

  “Very well.” Carteris’s soulless eyes remained on Rain. “I’ll have to make the choice for you. Just as I made it for Desiree—”

  She grabbed Carteris’s arm. “No, please!”

  “I’ve regretted I didn’t make Gavin Firth suffer more for taking what belonged to me. He died quickly. Too quickly. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  He broke her hold, his intent made clear by the knife gripped in his fist. But Trevor was one step ahead. He barreled into Carteris, taking him off balance and falling with him. The coffee table cracked loudly under the men’s combined weight. It splintered in half and deposited them both on the floor.

  “Rain, get out of here!”

  Using the couch, Trevor leveraged to a standing position. But Carteris was halfway up, as well. Trevor landed a blow with his foot, toppling him back down. The knife fell from Carteris’s hand, but he quickly scrambled on top of it. He swung the weapon in a wild arc, forcing Trevor to back away.

  �
��Go!” he yelled again.

  She wouldn’t leave him. As Carteris got to his feet, Rain threw herself into the chaos. She latched onto him, but he flung her off like a child discarding a toy. Landing on the floor, her injured wrist radiated pain that made stars explode in front of her eyes. She forced herself up just as Carteris slammed Trevor against the wall. With his hands cuffed behind him, he was defenseless. Carteris thrust the knife low into Trevor’s rib cage. He gave the weapon a vicious turn and plunged it in again.

  Rain’s scream turned into a ravaged sob. “Trevor!”

  Carteris stepped back. Trevor released a ragged breath as a dark stain appeared on the gray cotton of his T-shirt.

  No. Please, God, no.

  He slowly collapsed to the floor. Rain dashed to him, falling to her knees and cradling him in her arms. Trevor’s jaw clenched, his eyes squeezing closed in pain.

  “I know what I’m doing with a knife,” Carteris stated dully. “Death might take a while, Agent Rivette.”

  Seizing Rain’s arm, he jerked her up. She reached out frantically, calling for Trevor as Carteris dragged her away like a dog on a leash. He stopped to snatch the rosary from the wooden shards of the broken coffee table. Its beads glittered like tiny black orbs, and the knife in his hand held the red tinge of Trevor’s blood. Carteris’s eyes were glazed with the darkest kind of lust.

  “Come, little one. It’s time for us to finally be together.”

  46

  Trevor’s instructions to Brian were explicit. Stay with the Cessna, and leave with Rain if she made it back without him. He’d also given Brian the small handgun he carried in an ankle holster, in the event Carteris managed to follow her back to the plane. Then Trevor had hugged him as if he expected to never see him again.

  Despite their father being a cop, Brian had never held a gun, let alone fired one. But the shot that echoed across the swampland had brought him to a quick decision. He’d taken off at a run on the mud-and-gravel road, traveling in the same direction as his brother. To hell with what Trevor told him to do—he wasn’t going to let him die out here.

  Cautiously, Brian peered into the dimly lit interior from the cabin’s open doorway. Trevor was on the floor on the far side of the room—he was hurt, but how badly Brian didn’t know. Should he wait? Trevor had radioed the FBI field office not long after they’d taken off from Lakefront Airport in New Orleans. Backup couldn’t be too far behind. He hesitated, afraid of making a fatal mistake. But Rain’s screams tore at him as the man hauled her across the room.

  When they neared the door, Brian took a breath and stepped inside, pointing the gun.

  Surprise registered in Christian Carteris’s eyes. He pulled Rain in front of him, holding the knife against her throat. Her face was pale and streaked with tears.

  “You lied about coming alone, Rivette. I’m impressed,” Carteris called over his shoulder. He looked amused as he gave Brian the once-over. “And who are you?”

  Brian tightened his grip on the gun. “I’m the man who’s going to blow you the fuck away if you don’t let go of her.”

  His grin widened. “You’re the brother, aren’t you? The artist?”

  “Drop the knife! I’m not kidding!”

  He responded by increasing the blade’s pressure. Rain made an agonized sound as a line of crimson appeared on her skin. Fear flashed in her eyes.

  “Would you like to watch me bleed her, Brian? Maybe you’d like a taste yourself? It’s quite addictive.”

  “You’re sick—”

  “I promise, drugs don’t compare. Not liquid cocaine or heroin—it’s like no high you’ve experienced.” He swiped his index finger across the blood on Rain’s neck. Then he brought it to his mouth and licked. Brian swallowed hard, his stomach twisting.

  “Your brother’s dying—quite painfully, actually,” Carteris goaded. “If he’s still breathing when I finish with this whore, I might show him some mercy and slit his throat.”

  For a fraction of a second, Brian’s gaze darted to Trevor’s slumped form. The distraction gave Carteris opportunity. Shoving Rain aside, he sprung. Brian squeezed the gun’s trigger, but Carteris struck his arm, knocking the bullet’s trajectory off course. It shattered the paneled wall as noise exploded and the acrid odor of gunpowder filled the air. Brian fell with Carteris on top of him.

  The knife skittered under the couch as they fought for control of the gun. Brian held on to it, but Carteris had a viselike grip on his forearm. He slammed Brian’s hand repeatedly against the wood floor. Brian felt his tenuous grasp on the weapon weakening with each hard whack. He yelled a curse as it finally slipped from his fingers.

  Carteris intercepted the gun and shuffled backward like a sand crab, his expression victorious. He hoisted himself up. Still panting from the scuffle, he raised the gun.

  From the corner of his eye, Brian glimpsed Trevor struggling to stand. Realization settled over him like a woolen blanket.

  He was about to die.

  Instinctively, Brian shielded his face with his arm, but not before seeing the faint movement behind Carteris. Rain.

  Another deafening explosion shook the room. A second later, Carteris dropped his arm and let go of the weapon. His knees buckled and he fell face-first to the floor. Rain stood where Carteris had been just moments before, smoke curling from the barrel of the gun gripped in her hands. Blood spread from a fist-size hole in the center of Carteris’s back. A last rattling breath escaped his lungs and then the monster lay still.

  Brian got up. “Jesus, Rain!”

  “The gun was in the waistband of his pants.” Her voice shook. “I…pulled it out and I…”

  His heart thrummed. He looked at Trevor, and even in the candlelight he could see blood staining his shirt. He’d slipped back down to the floor. His head leaned against the wall, his eyes closed. Appearing stunned, Rain continued staring at Carteris’s body, and Brian gave her a small shake.

  “We’ve got to get Trevor out of here. To a hospital.” He thought of the small clinics in the outlying bayou parishes, ill equipped to handle a life-threatening emergency. “A real one, with a trauma center.”

  “The FBI’s on its way. They can help—”

  “We can’t wait. Get your shoes and find the keys to the SUV outside. We can use it to get him back to the plane. We landed on the highway.”

  She started toward Trevor, but Brian grabbed her arm. “Find the keys, Rain. There’s not a lot of time.”

  Nodding jerkily, she went in search of them.

  “Trevor.” Brian crossed the room and sank to his knees. His brother’s skin where he touched it was clammy.

  “I told you to stay with the Cessna,” Trevor said, his words threaded with pain.

  “Yeah? Good thing for you I don’t listen.” Brian tried not to appear alarmed by the amount of blood. Anger rippled through him when he saw that Trevor’s hands were cuffed behind his back. It hadn’t even been a fair fight. “How do I get these off you?”

  “The keys are in my pocket.” With some effort, Trevor leaned sideways so Brian could reach inside his jeans. Once he removed the handcuffs, Brian got up and headed into the kitchen, returning with a stack of clean dish towels. He pressed them against Trevor’s wounds, working to stay calm as his brother flinched.

  “Sorry about that,” Brian said softly.

  “Carteris is dead?”

  “One hundred percent. Rain shot him right through the heart.”

  “That’s my girl,” he whispered.

  “Trevor, you’ve got to help us get you to the plane. Think you can do that?”

  “Yeah.” But his nod was weak.

  Rain returned wearing sneakers and clutching the keys to the Escalade. Her frightened gaze met Brian’s over the top of Trevor’s head.

  “I’ll carry most of his weight,” Brian told her. “But you’re going to have to keep pressure on the wound. The movement might make the bleeding worse.”

  She knelt next to Trevor, placing her hand over the to
wels as Brian removed his. Trevor looked into her face. “You all right?”

  Her eyes sparkled with tears. “I’m fine.”

  “Did he hurt you? I need to know—”

  “I’m okay,” Rain repeated. She smoothed his damp hair back from his forehead with her free hand.

  “What you said to Carteris, about making up for Desiree’s betrayal…” Trevor paused, his brow furrowing in pain. “Who the hell was this guy? McGrath found letters he wrote to your mother thirty years ago—”

  She hushed him. “Save your strength. None of it matters now.”

  “Let’s do this,” Brian said. With Rain’s help, he got Trevor to his feet. He put his shoulder under his brother’s and Rain did her best to support him on the other side. They moved forward, stepping around Carteris’s body and the blood that bloomed around it. Leaving the cabin’s interior, they slowly navigated the porch stairs. Brian looked at the silhouetted frame of the burned-down plantation manor and felt a chill go up his spine.

  At the SUV, he got into the backseat first, pulling Trevor in after him so he was lying on his back. Once they had him situated, Rain removed her hand from the towels. Her face paled at the crimson already soaking through them. Trevor’s head rested in Brian’s lap, his chest rising and falling with his shallow breathing.

  “How’re you doing?” Brian asked.

  “My chest hurts,” Trevor murmured. His eyes closed, but Brian tapped his cheek until they flickered back open.

  “Hey. No sleeping on the job, Agent.” He attempted a smile, but it faltered as Trevor coughed. He looked at Rain. “We need to go.”

  The keys to the Escalade were in her hand. Backing out of the vehicle, she ran to the driver’s side and got in. Rain put the keys into the ignition and the engine roared to life. The SUV’s headlights cut into the darkness, illuminating the boughs of ancient trees.

  “Drive slowly,” Brian instructed from the backseat. “We don’t need to get stuck.”

  It was only after the mud-splattered SUV reached the rural highway that he remembered. Rain was terrified of driving—always had been, according to Alex. In his concern for Trevor, he’d completely forgotten her phobia. Rain hadn’t mentioned it, instead climbing behind the wheel as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She hadn’t wanted to waste the precious seconds it would have taken for them to switch positions, he realized. She’d driven admirably well, maintaining control of the vehicle and slipping only once on the makeshift road.