by Lisa Regan
Och. Broch smirked.
Clever girl. Ah ken whit yer up tae.
He raised a hand and glowered at her. “Wifie, shut yer mouth afore ye feel the back o’ mah haun.”
Catriona turned her head and he watched her squelch a laugh. The line he’d used he’d heard watching Braveheart. Catriona thought the film would make him feel at home.
He felt his cheeks grow hot at the memory.
It still made him uncomfortable she’d caught him crying over the murder of William Wallace’s wife.
She tugged on his shirt a second time and brought him back to the present.
“Oh big man. Does it make you feel tough hitting women?” She swung at him, punching his chest with the side of her fist.
Ouch.
He grabbed her by both arms and roared. “Ye shrew!”
“Hey!” The smaller man stepped toward them and without taking his gaze from Catriona, Broch grabbed the end of the man’s rifle and jerked it from his hands. Abruptly changing direction, he swung the butt of the weapon, splintering it against the side of the man’s head.
Catriona hiked up her dress and jerked her gun from the lace holster on her thigh.
Broch’s tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth.
That micht be the sexiest thing ah’ve ever seen.
Catriona trained her weapon on the remaining gunman. The man dropped his rifle to the floor, threw up his hands and yelled out.
“Konrad!”
The sound of the weapon sounded odd and Broch looked at the hunk of the rifle remaining in his hand. Catriona had introduced the material to him soon after his arrival.
Plastic.
“Whoa, wait, whoa, whoa.” Konrad pushed his way through the crowd toward Catriona.
“Cat, stop, put down the gun.”
Catriona scowled at the hunk of broken plastic in Broch’s hand and lowered her gun. She turned to Konrad as he appeared beside her.
“This was a stunt.”
“I didn’t sign up for this,” said the standing uniformed man, staring at his fallen friend.
Konrad panted, out of breath. “Yes, it was a stunt. They’re actors.” He looked at the man on the ground. “Did you kill him?”
Broch leaned down and slapped the unconscious actor’s face. He groaned.
Broch straightened. “Na.”
Konrad turned to the murmuring crowd and raised his hands over his head. “Everyone, I apologize, I had a little adventure planned for you, but it appears I forgot to tell the studio’s security team.”
Catriona rolled her eyes. “Now it’s going to involve the studio’s legal team.” She looked down at the groaning man on the floor and glanced at Broch. “Help him up.”
Broch grabbed the man’s hand and hoisted him to his feet.
Catriona studied the cut on the side of the man’s forehead. “You’re okay. It isn’t a very large cut.”
The man put his hand over it and scowled at her. “He didn’t pay us enough for this shit.”
“Sorry. Sorry.”
A woman screamed from the back of the room. “There’s a man on the floor in there!”
Konrad glanced in that direction and then caught Catriona’s eye. “There’s a third guy coming from there.”
Catriona sighed and tugged Konrad’s sleeve. “With me.”
Broch, Catriona, and Konrad made their way through the crowd until they reached the panicked woman on the opposite side of the room. She stood outside a door painted to look like part of the wall. The fact that it had been cracked open made it easy to identify.
“It’s okay, it’s all fake,” said Catriona to the woman. She tapped Konrad’s arm. “Tell her.”
The woman continued. “But I think he’s dead. I peeked in there after the man took the girls—”
Catriona scowled. “Took the girls?”
Konrad frowned. “He was supposed to take Jessica and a random.”
“Jessica?”
“Jessica Scout. The actress who plays the second victim.”
“So she’s in on the stunt.”
He nodded.
Broch opened the door. A man dressed in black assault garb lay on the ground of a thin hallway.
He squatted down and felt the man’s neck with his fingers.
“He’s dead.” His fingers moved to a hole in the chest of the man’s padded jacket. The area around it was damp. “Stabbed.”
Standing, he felt something sticky on the fingertips he’d used to balance beside the man. He glanced at them to find them red.
He stooped down and using the light streaming in from the main room, located the small pool of blood beside the man, his hand resting in it.
He lifted the man’s wrist.
The pinky had been snipped clean from the man’s hand.
Catriona gaped and turned to Konrad. “Is this part of your stunt?”
Konrad shook his head, his eyes wide. “No. I swear. This isn’t me.”
Mason appeared in the doorway. Seeing the dead man’s hand, the blood drained from his face.
“Close that door,” said Catriona.
Chapter Five
Catriona illuminated her phone’s flashlight. The glow in the darkened hallway made her feel as if they were a coven of witches gathered over a human sacrifice.
I’ll be happy when this freaky evening is over.
Mason had closed the door but remained inside with them, his haunted eyes still trained on the hand of the fallen fake intruder.
Catriona glared at Konrad, who she felt sure had added ten years of therapy to poor Mason’s future. “Tell me everything you know.”
Konrad sighed, looking glum. “Like I said, this guy was supposed to pull Jessica and a random guest in here, and then Jessica would lead the guest through the maze. He’d stay here and look threatening, until Jessica returned to take another guest. You get the idea.”
“So once someone saw Jessica, they’d know this was all a stunt.”
“Right.”
“What about the forty-odd people out there who didn’t see Jessica. Who only knew there were armed men at the door?”
Konrad’s jaw worked but only unintelligible noises emitted. “Uh...”
“Let me help you with this one. They’d be in a blind state of panic.”
“It was supposed to be thrilling.”
“There’s a difference between thrilling and terrifying.”
Catriona was about to launch into how Konrad’s tendencies toward irresponsible party games were why Parasol Pictures had sent her and Broch, but thought better of it. She needed to stick to the crisis at hand. Two girls were god-knows-where.
“Okay. So Jessica would have gone through here?” Catriona hooked a thumb toward the dark hall behind her.
Konrad nodded.
Catriona took a step farther into the hall to touch a wire spiraling down the wall. She gasped and whipped back her hand, whirling to face Konrad. “You hired men with fake guns to force your half-drunk party guests through a maze covered in razor wire?”
Lip curling with what looked like genuinely surprised confusion, Konrad stepped over the dead man’s feet to tap the point of one of the barbs. His jaw dropped open.
“These were fake.”
Mason leaned forward to feel the wire, his expression resembling Konrad’s surprise. “It was fake. All through shooting. It was never real.”
“Is it maybe yer faither is alive?” asked Broch.
Catriona looked at him. That was it. The odd tickle in the back of her brain. Broch had put it into words.
Could Pinky still be alive?
Mason shook his head. “No. That’s impossible. Soto shot him dead. They took him away.” Mason’s voice fell to a whisper. “I had him cremated to be sure.”
Konrad put a hand on the young man’s shoulder.
Catriona glanced at her phone. “I’ve got no reception. Does anyone?”
Konrad shook his head. “It’s not just this hallway. It’s the whole pl
ace. There’s no reception out here.”
“Is there a landline?”
“Outside in my trailer I have a satphone.”
Catriona’s eyes fell to the body at her feet.
“We might have a copycat. Did you get any threats during production? Any crazy letters?”
Konrad barked a laugh. “I could paper the walls of the grand hall with the insane stuff that showed up during production. Pinky had quite the following.”
Catriona sighed. “Great. What about the guests? Who are they?”
Konrad shrugged. “The cast, some press, some industry people I wanted to impress—”
Broch leaned down to whisper in Catriona’s ear. “We need tae git the fowk oot.”
She laughed. “No kidding. I’d like to get the f—”
“Fowk,” he repeated. “We need tae get the people oot o’ ’ere.”
“Oh, folk. Right. Yes. First things first. Konrad, you and Mason get everyone out of here in a calm and orderly fashion. Use your satphone to call the police. Call Sean too—the studio’s going to want to stay ahead of this publicity disaster.”
“Um...” by the glow of the phone, Catriona watched Konrad squint one eye as if he’d just suffered a gas pain. By now, she knew that meant he’d done some other stupid thing, yet to be revealed.
“What now?”
“They chained the front doors. It was part of the storyline.”
“What?”
“This guy…” He motioned to the man on the floor. “He locked the door behind the other two and then came through the maze backward to get here.”
Catriona gaped. “Did it not occur to you at any point what a terrible idea this was? The fire hazard alone—”
Konrad pouted. “In hindsight...”
She turned and flashed her light in the direction of the razor-wire–covered hall. It continued for as far as the beam could travel.
“You’re telling me through here is the only way out?”
Konrad nodded.
Catriona put her hand over her mouth, thinking. She took a deep breath and expelled it slowly.
“We’ve got a real dead guy and real razor wire. Two women are missing. What other things might have become real in the belly of this mess?”
Konrad shook his head. “Not much. I mean, the real Minotaur in this maze was Pinky.”
She looked to Mason for confirmation and the young man nodded.
Broch motioned to the man on the floor. “Someone is deid. Thare micht aye be a Minotaur.”
“He’s right. We can’t let the guests storm this exit. If there’s someone in here pretending to be Pinky, we can’t let him pick off the party guests one by one as they make their way through the maze. Konrad, Mason, you two go out there. Calm everyone down. Tell them everything up to this point has been part of your moronic vision. Give them food. Tell them stories. Do whatever you have to do.”
“The food was coming from the trailers outside.”
Catriona huffed and raised a hand in the air. “Jeez. Give them booze then. Just keep them calm. Get your actors with the fake guns to stand in front of this door. Don’t let anyone in here.”
Konrad and Mason nodded.
Catriona pointed her phone’s flashlight down the hall. “We’ll find the missing girls, get out and unchain the hall door from the outside. Mason, is there a trick to this maze? A path we should take?”
He shook his head. “It isn’t a true maze. It’s just a path in and out.”
“Okay. You guys go.”
Konrad nodded. “Good luck.”
“Gosh, thanks. Oh, and Konrad?”
Konrad paused at the door. “Hm?”
“You know the studio’s going to have to fire you for this nightmare, right?”
Konrad nodded. “Yep.”
Chapter Six
Alone in the black hall, Broch and Catriona stared down at the dead man. Catriona grumbled a string of complaints about the limited brain power of studio people, scattered liberally with expletives.
Broch rubbed his head, mussing whatever had remained of his slicked-back ’do.
“The evening’s gaun exactly as ah expected. Ye?”
Catriona chuckled. “We’ve got to get after those girls, but help me check this guy’s pockets. He might have a key for unlocking whatever he’s used to seal the front door.”
They felt through the man’s flak jacket and pants until Broch produced a small silver key.
“Git it.”
“Good.” She replaced her gun in its clandestine holster and tossed her purse on the floor far enough from the body to avoid any blood. “We better start before my battery dies.”
Catriona pointed her phone’s flashlight down the hall and they left the low din of the party behind, careful to avoid the reaching razor wire.
Twenty feet in, they heard a woman’s muffled scream and both stopped, waiting to hear another in the hopes it would give them a direction.
Nothing.
Catriona started forward again and Broch reached out to grab her arm.
“Mind yerself. Be wise. It cuid be a trap.”
Catriona nodded. Kilty had a good point. Anyone evil enough to build a whole maze of death in a warehouse was probably devious enough to set traps for people trying to navigate it. Mason didn’t think his father’s place had hidden pitfalls, but maybe this new Pinky had his own unique vision.
Shortly after a hard right turn, Catriona spotted a break in the razor wire. She ran her flashlight’s beam across it, noting the square seam and a round hole where a doorknob might be.
“It’s some kind of pocket door, though I don’t know if putting our fingers in the hole to slide it open seems like a great idea.”
Broch moved in front of her. “Staun back.” Catriona paused and then relented. It would be better for the big guy to slide open the door. She didn’t know how easily it would move, and he certainly had the strength advantage.
On a quiet three count, Broch heaved the door to the side and they both spun away from the entrance, so as not to be sitting ducks for whatever lay waiting inside.
All remained quiet.
They craned their necks to peer into the room.
Inside, beneath the dull glow of a red bulb hanging from the ceiling, a woman in a sparkly silver dress lay on a cot against the wall. The crimson glow almost made it more difficult to see than utter darkness.
Catriona hustled to the woman’s side. The victim’s right hand hovered in the air as if pinned to the wall, and as she knelt beside the cot, Catriona saw her wrist hung ensnared by a cuff bolted to the wall. She’d been gagged. Her eyes were closed and her body still.
Too still.
As Catriona’s fingers touched the edge of the cot she felt dampness. Raising her phone, she squinted at what she’d taken to be a thin scarlet choker. Her shoulders slumped.
“Her throat’s been cut.”
Broch looped his fingers around the woman’s left wrist and held up her hand. Her pinky was missing.
Catriona stood. “She’s blonde. Jessica Scout has dark hair, so this is the guest she took.”
Broch grunted. “That means Jessica could be in oan it.”
“Not out of the realm of possibility. I don’t know much about Jessica. She’s new to the studio.”
Another scream rang out somewhere deep in the warehouse.
Catriona looked up at Broch, goosebumps running down the length of her arms. She set her jaw and did her best to appear calm.
“This woman is still warm. Whoever did this can’t be far.”
“Aye.”
Every nerve in her body said to head back, but she knew she couldn’t do it. She sighed. “We have to keep going. If we fail, this asshole will pick off people at the party all night.”
Even in the grotesque red light of the bulb above, Catriona could see Broch’s expression soften as he brushed an errant strand of hair from her face.
“Wha said anything aboot failing?”
She smi
led. “You know, sometimes I think you traveled hundreds of years through time just to help me with this horrific job of mine.”
Broch chuckled. “Nae on purpose.”
Chapter Seven
“Ah see light,” said Broch.
Catriona lowered her phone and noticed a dull glow at the end of the black hallway. A few steps later they entered a large rectangular room and the claustrophobic experience of the hallway lifted. Catriona pointed her phone upward to find a cloth hovering, as if a large black circus tent had been erected on top of the room. Catriona guessed the center scraped the top of the actual warehouse. There were four doors against the far wall, all painted red.
Catriona frowned and held out a hand to keep Broch from passing her. “Wait. I’ve seen this before in movies. We have to pick a door and if we pick the wrong one—”
Three of the doors flew open, shaking the makeshift room around them. Four men burst forward as if shot from a cannon. Each wore black and held a katana, their faces covered but for their eyes.
“What is this Enter the Dragon crap?” mumbled Catriona. Their attackers were trying so hard to look like ninjas—she would have laughed had the situation not been so serious.
Goofy show, but the swords looked real enough.
She slid her cell phone into the bodice of her dress for safekeeping. Cleavage always did make the handiest purse.
“Howfur dae we pick a door wi’ thaim comin’ oot o’ thaim?” asked Broch.
“Very funny. I didn’t see the ninja show coming.”
The men moved forward, brandishing their blades.
Broch rushed to the one closest to his side of the room. Startled, the man froze as the heads of the other three turned to stare. Watching Broch move, Catriona also lost a step. There was no reason a man as large as Kilty, in an outfit as tight as his, should be able to move as fast as he did.
At the last second, the man raised his blade to strike. Broch tackled him, pounding into his waist as his right hand grabbed the hilt of the blade. Highlander and ninja slammed into the far wall, the man in black crumpling like a doll, seemingly unconscious.
Broch stood, the katana now in his hand.