by Debra Webb
Riley had held up through more than an hour of physical torture. He could have tolerated more, but the end result would have been the same. Death. These guys had no intention of allowing him to stay alive.
He had nothing to lose by going with Tessa’s suggestion. If it was a setup, made no difference. At this point he was dead anyway.
“Renwick was behind the ambush in Alabama,” Riley muttered. The aftereffects of the shock treatments were making his body tremble. “He tipped off the feds. One of the feds passed along the tip to a friend in Chicago.”
“What friend in Chicago?” Howard demanded, skeptical.
Riley lolled his head back long enough to draw in a deep breath, then met the man’s gaze. “I don’t know. Some P.I. Doesn’t matter. It’s the feds that’s on your back now. Renwick thought they would take down your organization. He was ticked off when the operation failed. He wants to be number one.”
Brooks made a slow circle around Riley. “What do you know about Renwick?”
Riley didn’t have a lot to go on. He’d just have to wing it. “I know he wants you and your boss to go down. That’s what I know.”
Howard and Brooks blasted the air with expletives, then Howard said, “You think telling us this is going to save your butt?”
Well, so much for that plan. “Do what you gotta do, man,” Riley said, feigning defeat. “I’m telling you that the feds are the least of your problems. Renwick is hell-bent on coming out on top, which means you have to go down.”
“If that bastard knows what’s good for him,” Brooks snarled, “he’d better stay in his own territory.”
Riley licked his cracked lips, tasted the blood. His jaw wasn’t broken but it had taken another beating. “I think he’s planning a takeover of your territory.” That was a shot in the dark. Judging by the fury that claimed both men’s faces, he’d hit the target.
“The SOB has a death wish,” Howard growled. He eyed Riley a long moment. “What exactly were Renwick’s orders? I can’t see him trusting an operation this big to one guy. Especially one like you.”
“My job was to get in,” Riley said. “Get the layout of your headquarters and find out what you had on the schedule for the next couple of weeks.”
“Too bad—” Howard moved in close to Riley “—you failed.”
Riley breathed a chuckle. “Two out of three ain’t bad.”
The muzzle of a weapon bored into the soft underside of his chin. “How,” Brooks asked, his voice riddled with anger and scorn, “are you supposed to pass along information? Is there a tracking device?” He sneered. “I know you don’t want us to start searching the only logical places.”
Riley definitely wasn’t game for a cavity search. “He knows what you lost in the ambush and that I’m in New Orleans to make contact. That’s it.”
Howard shook his head at his pal. “He’s lying. No way Renwick sent him to us without a tracking device.” He shifted his attention to Riley. “All we have to do is find it.”
“I swear,” Riley urged, “the only tracking device I had was in the heels of my boots. You dumped those last night, with the rest of my clothes, in the parking lot at that bar.”
“Get the Master.”
Howard glared at Brooks. “We can handle this.”
Brooks shook his head. “Get him. Now.”
Howard glared a bit longer at the man who was obviously his superior before following the order. Riley relaxed as best he could considering he hung like a side of beef from the hook in the ceiling.
Tessa had given him an out. What did that mean? Was she truly a captive? Even after all these years? Had she intended to help him? Maybe this whole thing was a sham of some kind. A game she had initiated. Who knew how warped her mind might be after spending nearly half a dozen years with these sickos.
Brooks crossed his arms and stared at Riley. Riley ignored him. Instead, he focused on what he needed to accomplish his mission. The Master’s identity. If no one called or knew his name, then a DNA sample would be necessary—assuming he was in the system. Prints might serve the purpose. Riley needed as much information about the organization’s operation as possible. Tessa may or may not have some knowledge of how things worked.
And he needed to get her and any other captives away from here.
Away from the lunatic who called himself the Master.
Footfalls on the stairs drew Riley’s attention there.
“Now we’ll see how much longer you’ll keep breathing,” Brooks warned.
The Master, wearing his high-class designer suit, descended the final step. He studied Riley for a time before moving toward him.
He stopped a few feet away. “Renwick sent you, did he?”
Riley’s tension ratcheted a little higher. “Yes.” He infused all the humility and desperation he could summon into the single word.
“How is my old friend Renwick?”
Trick question. “I wouldn’t know,” Riley said, suppressing a grimace. His hands and arms had gone completely numb. “My only contact was with Phipps.” He looked the Master straight in the eyes. “You know, tall, thin guy with red hair. He provided my orders.”
“Which were,” the Master pressed.
“To infiltrate your organization and gather intelligence about your upcoming operations.”
The silence that followed had Riley holding his breath.
“Was that the extent of your orders?” Masters demanded.
“I can’t tell you what was said word for word,” Riley confessed. “If there’s anything else, I can’t call it to mind just now.” He glanced up at his bound hands. “This isn’t exactly conducive to brain power.”
“We should just gut ’em,” Howard suggested. “He’s a waste of time.”
The Master stared at the much shorter man until he visibly cowered, before shifting his attention back to Riley. “Cut him down.”
Brooks and Howard exchanged a look of surprise. “What’re we doing with him?” Brooks wanted to know.
“I haven’t decided,” the Master said as he returned to the staircase. He paused before taking the first step. “Feed him and get him properly attired.”
The man in charge climbed the stairs, leaving Riley in the capable hands of his colleagues. Just his luck.
“This makes no sense,” Howard growled. He glared at Riley. “I think you’re bluffing.”
Riley didn’t bother arguing with him.
“Cut him down,” Brooks snapped. “That’s what the Master said.”
Howard grumbled the entire time but he did as he was told. He climbed onto a stepladder and cut the ropes. Riley attempted to land on his feet but his knees buckled and he crumpled to the floor.
Howard kicked him. “Get up.”
When Riley had gotten to his feet, Howard shoved him toward the stairs. Brooks had already taken that route. As Riley climbed the steps the circulation returned to his arms, but his hands were still tightly bound and totally numb.
At the top of the stairs, Howard pushed him to the left and to another staircase. “Up,” he ordered.
Riley climbed to the second floor. He took in as many of the details as possible in the short time it took to reach the door Howard directed him to. Long corridor, five doors. He hadn’t encountered anyone else. Riley wondered where Tessa was. And why she’d decided to help him.
Every action was propelled by a motive. What was hers?
Howard opened the door and shoved him into the room. “Take a shower. You stink.”
Riley held out his bound hands. “Be kind of hard to do.”
Howard pulled out his pocketknife and cut the bindings, then palmed his weapon. “Make one wrong move,” he cautioned, while Riley rubbed at his wrists, “and I will kill you.” Then he slammed the door, leaving Riley alone in the large bathroom.
Serviceable fixtures. Clean enough. He grabbed a towel from the shelf and slung it over the shower curtain rod and turned on the tap. A glance in the mirror confirmed that he had a swollen j
aw, black eye and more than one split in his lips. He shook it off, refusing to let the pain steal his focus.
Once the coveralls were off, he kicked them aside and climbed into the shower.
He stood for a while with the warm water washing over his sore face and shoulders. There were no answers for additional questions. Whatever this Master had in mind for him, Riley had given him all he had. All Tessa had given him. But he had bought some time.
In an operation like this, that was the most he could hope for. To survive, minute by minute, hour by hour.
Riley took his time. No need to rush fate.
When the water had turned cold he shut it off and dragged back the curtain. He grabbed the towel and carefully dabbed his face before stepping out onto the cool tile floor.
His gaze locked with blue eyes.
Tessa.
He lowered the towel to cover himself.
She extended a neatly folded stack of clothing, hiking boots on top, toward him. “These are for you.”
It took a second or two for him to regain his voice. “Thank you.” He accepted the clothes.
“When you’re dressed,” she said, openly surveying his body, “you’re to come to the kitchen.”
“All right.”
Her gaze bumped into his once more. “They’ll be waiting there.”
She left the room, closed the door behind her.
Strange. He shook his head and dried his skin. The situation grew more bizarre by the moment. For the first time in his life he could truthfully say he had no idea what to expect next.
The jeans and pullover crewneck shirt fit as if he’d bought them himself. Socks, hiking boots. Boots were a little loose, but not enough to matter. He ran his fingers through his damp hair and reached for the door.
Howard wasn’t waiting in the corridor as Riley had expected. Apparently security was tight enough that no one was worried about him taking off or making any problematic moves.
Downstairs, the entry hall was deserted as well. Riley noted the high-tech keypad on the wall next to the front door. Definitely state-of-the-art security. This guy had no reason to worry about him escaping. Riley wasn’t going anywhere until his hosts were ready for him to go.
Preferably not feet first.
Brooks stepped from a room beyond the library-like room they’d used for accessing the basement. Brooks jerked his head toward the door he’d exited, and then turned and walked back into the room.
That was his cue, Riley supposed.
The room where Brooks waited was the kitchen. Large. The usual amenities including an extra-long dining table with seating for twelve.
“Sit,” Howard ordered, hitching his thumb toward the table.
A plate heaped with eggs, bacon and toast waited for him. Riley took the seat and reached first for the steaming cup of coffee.
Howard and Brooks stood near the door and waited without saying a word.
Riley ate. If the food was poisoned he was done for. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he smelled the bacon. His body reacted to the fuel. Energy reviving his aching muscles.
When he’d finished, he pushed back from the table and stood. “What now?”
“Let’s go,” Brooks said.
Riley followed the two back into the corridor and into the book-filled room that lent a distinguished air to what he knew to be a monster’s mansion.
The Master sat behind the broad, gleaming desk. “I presume you’re feeling a bit more up to par now?”
Riley nodded. “Good to go.”
“Take a seat, Mr. Smith,” the man in charge said.
Riley settled into one of four chairs flanking the desk. Brooks stood behind him, Howard maintained his position near the door.
Master reclined in his leather, tufted chair and studied Riley a moment. “You present somewhat of a dilemma, Mr. Smith.”
“Look,” Riley offered, “I know you have no reason to trust me.” He shrugged. “To be truthful, if I had half a chance I’d be out of here in a heartbeat.” He held up his hands surrender style. “Whatever’s going down between you and Renwick—” he shook his head “—I don’t really care. I did this for the money.” He locked gazes with the man behind the desk. “But right now, I don’t care about the money. Survival will be fine by me. You tell me what I have to do to make that happen, and I’m in.”
The Master braced his elbow on the arm of his chair and tapped his chin with his forefinger. “The man you described, Phipps, has been attempting to infiltrate my family for quite some time. That revelation doesn’t surprise me in the least. That he finally succeeded is the surprise.”
Riley analyzed the concept of family the man used. “I can’t tell you how he managed the feat.” More winging it. “I just contacted the name and number he gave me and I was in.”
“I find that quite incredible,” Master confessed. “I chose my soldiers very carefully. In twenty years I’ve never had one betray me.”
“His name was Robinson,” Riley explained, using the name of one of the men involved with the incident in Alabama. “I called him, and he gave me the job. Considering what happened in Alabama, I’d say you’ve chosen at least one who wasn’t on the up-and-up.”
Brooks grabbed Riley by the hair and yanked his head back. “Don’t get smart,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Or we’ll take you back to the questioning room and bring you down a couple of notches.”
“That’s enough,” the Master scolded his minion.
When Brooks had released him, Riley stretched his stiff neck muscles.
The Master seemed to digest what Riley had said so far. “You were to convince me that I had a mole,” Master suggested. “I was expected to accept you into my family where you would gather intelligence about my work and report to Renwick or Phipps.” His work. Yeah, right. “That was the plan.”
Another of those long, assessing moments passed. “You’re very fortunate to still be alive, Mr. Smith. You seem to have made yourself rather invaluable with your announcement.”
Anticipation whispered through his veins. Now was the turning point. He was either dead…or in all the way.
“I find myself curious,” Master said. “Renwick has his own business. It’s low level and quite distasteful. He has neither the intelligence nor the strategic skills to accomplish what I have accomplished.”
There was no denying the man’s skill at covering his tracks and running a tight, efficient operation. The idea that he’d gotten away with this unthinkable business for twenty years twisted in Riley’s gut. This bastard had to be stopped.
“I suppose Renwick’s endgame is to cut supply,” Master went on. “When supply dwindles, demand appears to increase, ultimately spiking prices. He cannot hope to offer the caliber of merchandise I alone provide my clients.”
The discussion sickened Riley but the more the man talked, the more potential for Riley to learn. “That would be my guess.”
Master leaned forward and braced his forearms on his desk. “This turn of events leaves me no choice.”
Riley braced for the revelation.
“You’re going to sacrifice everything for me, Mr. Smith. Whatever Renwick intended to pay you,” he added with a ruthless stare directly into Riley’s eyes, “it won’t be nearly enough.”
Chapter Six
9:30 a.m.
Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Tessa clapped the little girl’s hands together as she and the children sang along with the video. The girls giggled and laughed as the song ended.
This was Tessa’s favorite time of the morning. The patients had been fed, as had the children. She had an hour of free time with the children. She hugged the little girl in her lap. Sophie had grown so much. Tessa was amazed every day with each new learning adventure. At two years old, the child was already showing indications of being exceedingly bright.
Tessa resisted the urge to smile as she surveyed each of the other three girls. So beautiful. So smart. Milly was five; the twins, Casey and
Willa, were four. And sweet little Sophie would soon turn three. She hugged the child again.
No matter what else Tessa did, she had to protect the children. Her arms instinctively tightened around Sophie, who instantly squirmed. But she had to act fast. Time was running out. Fear forced her heart into a faster rhythm. Tessa drew in a deep breath of courage. She couldn’t let the fear hold her back.
Their futures depended upon her alone.
Fear could not stop her. She could not fail for any reason.
The door to the children’s room opened. Tessa looked up to find Brooks hovering there. Revulsion instantly thickened in her stomach.
“The Master needs you.”
“I’m taking care of the children,” she said, careful to keep any hint of challenge out of her tone.
“I’ll watch the children.”
If he’d said he intended to terminate her existence, Tessa wouldn’t have experienced a deeper fear. “I—”
“He wants you in the library. Now!”
She nodded. There was no arguing. She had been summoned. “Be a good girl,” she whispered to Sophie before settling her on the floor.
Tessa pushed to her feet and crossed the room. She hated the way Brooks stared at her when she sidled past him in the doorway. He did things like that when the Master wasn’t looking. Leered at her or blocked her path so that she had no choice but to brush close to him when she passed. Even he, however, didn’t repulse her as much as Howard did. But both knew better than to touch her or to speak out of turn in any way.
She hurried down the two flights of stairs. The sooner she knew what the Master needed, the sooner she could get back to the children. Brooks keeping watch made her nervous. In no way did she trust the man.
The door to the library stood open, so Tessa walked in without knocking. She drew up short when her gaze settled on Mr. Smith. Howard loitered in the corner.
“Tessa, sit, please.” The Master gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.
Surprised to be invited to take a chair, she selected the one farthest away from the man, Smith. He made her nervous in a very unfamiliar way. Desperation had made her give him the information that likely had saved his life until now.