by Eve Langlais
“We can’t have the Coast Guard show up, too many questions. With the number of bodies lying around, we’d never convince them we weren’t involved somehow.”
“Then what do you suggest? We can’t exactly hide that people died here.”
“We could if we got rid of the bodies.” It was Marcus who pointed out the obvious. “No bodies, no crime. And this storm is the perfect cover.”
Darren shook his head. “Are you suggesting we toss them all into the ocean, claiming what? That they went for a swim in a storm and died?”
Kacy pointed out the most obvious flaw. “Not even mob mentality could make that many people so stupid. We need something a little more unexpected. Something that would take a bunch of people out at once.”
“Falling off the cliff?” Marcus suggested.
“Only plausible if the balcony falls down.” A slow smile curved Kacy’s lips. “I have an idea. But first, we need to find all the bodies and pile them in the tower.”
“And then what?” Marcus asked. “Set it on fire?”
“In a rain storm?” She shook her head. “Nope. We’re going to put them on the balcony, claiming they went out to watch the storm, and blow that fucker up.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
While Kacy’s plan was quickly approved by the men, it did require a few things to make it work. First off, they needed to gather all the bodies. Not just Stefanov and Adele, but any other bodies that might be around.
Marcus made quick work of the ones they knew about, putting them out in the rain and leaving the balcony doors open to flood the inside of the office, washing most of the blood clean.
Benoit remained unconscious, and Marcus eyed him with hands on his hips. “What do we do with this little shit?”
“Eliminate him so he can’t talk.” Kacy was taught not to leave the enemy behind.
Darren eyed Benoit dispassionately. “He’s probably a guy for hire, so I doubt he’ll talk to the authorities. However, he is dangerous. So, keep him tied.”
“The academy doesn’t recommend compassion,” she reminded.
“The academy isn’t usually under attack,” Darren retorted. “Besides, we might need him to answer some questions.”
“As the client wishes.” Kacy might not agree, but she had been trained to obey the client. They trussed Benoit like a turkey and stuck him in the office for the moment.
Kacy eyed Darren and asked, “What about Francesca? Did you leave her on the roof?”
His expression turned cold. “You don’t need to concern yourself with her.”
“As long as you took care of her.” Hopefully, in a way that would cover his tracks.
“What next, little pint?” Marcus asked, deferring to her.
“Now, I go and see if I can find some more bodies.” Because Willow was still out there, and if she’d decided to hedge her client’s odds by killing everyone else, then they’d have to deal with her and whatever mess she created.
“What do you mean you’re going? We’re all going,” Marcus argued.
She shook her head. “We can’t risk Darren like that. Not with a killer or more on the loose. You’re safest staying here with him, locked in the tower, with a gun. If anyone but me enters, shoot.”
“You need Marcus,” Darren interjected.
“I’m capable of killing on my own.” The hot retort was a familiar one. Men always felt a need to treat her like a girl.
“I know you can kill, but you won’t be able to carry the bodies back. You need muscle for that.”
Good point. However… “We can’t leave Darren unprotected.”
“You will if I order it.” Darren crossed his arms over his chest. “And I am ordering it. We don’t have much time before the storm blows over and people come looking. I’m sure I’m not the only one who put out a call for reinforcements.”
Tossing a look at the raging storm, Kacy pursed her lips. “We have a few hours before we need to worry.”
“Which isn’t long to secure the island and set the stage for any authorities. You and Marcus need to work together. I’ll be fine. The door still has its lock.”
“I came through the balcony,” she pointed out.
“And you’re nuts. Not everyone can climb like a ninja squirrel,” Darren retorted.
Marcus snickered, totally earning the elbow to the ribs.
“I guess, if you parked yourself in that corner”—she pointed to the one farthest from the stairs and patio—“then you could shoot anyone trying to come in.”
Placing a hand over his heart, Darren swore, “If anything moves, I’ll shoot.”
Kacy didn’t like it, but even she had to admit, if she wanted to sweep the island and hide any evidence of foul play, then they had to do this. “Fine. But I swear, if you leave this room—”
“I know. You’ll kill me yourself,” Darren said with a roll of his eyes.
“I’ll kill you twice,” she growled. She handed over the gun she’d borrowed from Marcus. It still miffed her that she’d lost her own pistol. However, she still had her knife and some mad ardilla rabiosa skills. “Ready, meathead?”
“After you, little pint.” Marcus gestured.
Not liking the plan, but not having much choice, Kacy left Darren in the tower room, but she didn’t move away until they heard the click of a lock.
She’d warned him about how someone could access the balcony, even in this weather. Also, while doubtful anyone could get on the roof in this storm, she didn’t discount it. Professionals always found a way.
Darren knew to keep watch on all three points of egress into the room. Hopefully, they wouldn’t find out if Darren shot as well as he boasted.
Re-entering the large room, struck anew by the silence in it, she did find some comfort in having Marcus with her. Back to back, they swept the house. With the guests scattered, she wondered what had happened to the skeleton staff.
Kacy found the chef behind the island in the kitchen, cleaved with his own knife. “Blowing up the tower won’t hide this,” she remarked.
Marcus looked at the pooling blood staining the tile and shook his head. “We might need to think bigger.”
The whole house would have to go.
Fire? But so much of this place was tile. The walls were stone. Only the ceiling boasted wood of a sort.
Worry about it later. Marcus motioned to her by the back door. Knife in hand, she approached as he slipped outside. She followed him, the humidity just past the barrier of the house enough to make her skin heat. A step out from the protection of the porch cooled her with the heavy drops of rain.
Marcus stood to the side of the small garden path, staring at something on the ground amongst the growing vegetables, the tomato vines tall and lush, heavy with fruit.
“I found Stefanov’s security,” he stated. One garroted to death, the other shot point blank between the eyes, the sound probably hidden by the vicious storm that still whipped the island into a wet frenzy.
“Grab their weapons.” No point in leaving them behind to be used against them.
She waited while Marcus lifted the bodies out of the garden and dumped them inside before they set off on the path.
Their trail was dimly lit by moonbeams, their solar-based power unaffected by the outage at the house. But even their illumination couldn’t fully penetrate the maelstrom. The rain and fog made it hard to see, the squall itself so noisy it masked anything else.
The foliage around made dark sentinels that loomed suddenly through the torrent. She kept in constant motion, moving and shifting to see everywhere at once.
Nothing moved.
Not a sound overshadowed that of the pouring rain.
A few twists into the path, she smelled it.
Smoke. She ran, Marcus at her heels, and burst around the curves to discover even the rain couldn’t stop a fire if it blazed big and hot enough.
A cabana burned. While the wet thatched roof of the guesthouse contained most of it, Kacy could see the flame
s dancing within. She knew who guested here. Banele, the giant man from the South African nation. If he hadn’t escaped before the flames took hold, then he’d surely perished. No one cried for help or answered her when she called out, only the steady snap of things burning answered.
“Should you be announcing our presence?” Marcus asked, guarding her back, the gun he’d filched from the security guard’s holster getting wet as he held it out in front of him. Here was to hoping it was well kept and would fire if the time came.
“Don’t tell me you’re scared.”
“No, just wanting to be part of the plan. Didn’t we have a bet?”
“Not officially,” she remarked as they left the burning cabana and moved down the path to the next. “But maybe we should. Despite what Darren thinks, I don’t think we’re going to have a ‘We Are The World’ sing-along moment.”
“So you think we should employ deadly force?”
“If attacked, yes. If you can subdue, then that’s better. If we bring one or two back to Darren alive, then maybe he won’t be too pissed about the ones who don’t make it.”
“Do you have any idea how sexy it is when you talk tactics to me?” Marcus rumbled, gun out in front of him as he eased around a bend in the crushed-shell path.
Did he have any idea how sexy it was that he respected her and treated her as an equal? The guys in the office treated her as one of them, but she didn’t want to bang them until something crowed.
Moving past the next curve brought them to a cabana that appeared fully dark. Shoving at the door didn’t budge it. Someone had barricaded the entrance.
Signaling to Marcus to flank the opposite side, she leaned against the wall before pounding on the door. “Is anyone alive in there?”
At first, she thought no one would reply.
“Go away, or we shoot!” a woman yelled. Kacy recognized the voice of Ming, the Asian woman who’d not spoken to many in the group, preferring to keep to herself.
“We know about the note. We’re going to do something about it.”
“You mean kill us like you killed Banele?” was the shouted reply.
Arguing their innocence was a pointless waste of time. “Just stay inside,” Kacy shouted back. “We’ll take care of the assassins on the island.”
The reply was something spat rapid-fire in Chinese, possibly rude, but Kacy couldn’t blame her. At this point, no one could really tell who was friend or foe.
The next cabana had the shutters closed, but the seam running along them showed a flickering light from a candle or two. A brisk knock was greeted with a bullet through the door. Good thing they weren’t standing directly in front. The shots fired let them know the Swiss contingent was safe.
Which left Willow and her British date unaccounted for, as well as the Australian couple.
Marcus corrected her. “You forgot Gerard and the housekeeper.”
She had, and she also assumed no one else had landed on the island before the storm. She hadn’t forgotten the incursion from the other night by those determined killers. The possibility of running into more, while slim, existed.
The rain proved relentless, a heavy deluge that soaked them to the skin, bringing a deep chill from within. The wind whipped around them, driving the rain into them with needle-like force. Visibility proved impossible. Even the solar lights barely managed a muted glow. She could see in only a small radius around them.
Anyone could be hiding within feet, and they’d never know.
It made their task almost impossible. But Kacy wouldn’t give up, and, she’d bet, neither would Marcus. He shadowed her, his expression grim but determined.
Traversing a small bridge over the lazy river, the wood slats slick with moisture, Kacy had turned to ask Marcus if perhaps they should return to check on Darren when something rose from the waters and grabbed her by the ankles.
Caught off guard, a sharp cry escaped Kacy as she slammed down hard on her ass before she was yanked off the small bridge, whacking her head on the edge in the process.
The blow stunned her, as did the submersion in the subtly chlorinated water. Under the surface, she kept her eyes open but could see nothing. She kept her mouth closed lest she breathe in fluid.
The slow-flowing stream pulled at her body, but she quickly found her footing. Only she couldn’t push up. Something held her down!
Lashing out with her feet, the movement sluggish because of the current, she managed to hit flesh. But it didn’t free her from the hands currently meshed in her hair, pushing her down. Trying to drown her.
Panic threatened as the pressure in her lungs demanded she breathe. But she couldn’t. What she could do, though, was stop flailing like a ninny.
Reaching for her knife, she pulled it from the sheath and slashed blindly in front of her. When that didn’t hit anything, she slashed beside her, the edge of the blade hitting flesh.
The grip on her hair loosened.
Pushing against the bottom of the lazy river, Kacy rose from the water and heaved in a lungful of air.
Rain still slammed down, and she could hear Marcus yelling for her. She couldn’t see the bridge, and the river current tugged at her. Instinct made her duck just as a fist came flying.
She whirled, expecting to see Willow. Instead, she confronted Betty, the Australian cattleman’s wife.
The round-cheeked woman blinked at her, and for a moment, Kacy hesitated. The other times she’d seen this woman, she’d exuded a maternal, matronly air, always smiling.
Betty still smiled as she lashed out with a fist. Kacy managed to turn enough that the blow struck her in the shoulder. It hit a nerve, though, and she found her fingers opening, the knife falling from her grip into the water.
Whap. She blocked a right hook, only to miss a quick follow-up on the left, which took Kacy on the edge of her jaw. Her head snapped.
Ow.
All hesitation and reservation evaporated. If the bitch wanted to fight, then so be it.
Gaze narrowed, Kacy dropped into fighting mode. Snap. Jab. She felt nothing but grim satisfaction with each blow that hit.
“Why,” Kacy snarled in between punches, “are you doing this?”
She danced in the water, ignoring the rain and anything else to focus on her opponent.
Betty had her hands up too, looking fierce in her gaze. “The note said, only one faction can survive. Ours.” The older woman rushed Kacy, and Kacy slipped when she sidestepped.
Down they went, the current sweeping their unbalanced bodies, sliding them farther downstream. It took a few bobbing moments to find her feet, dancing on tiptoe a few strides before controlling her momentum.
She’d barely stood when a blow to her back sent her staggering. Whirling, she noticed Betty right behind her, hand raised, clutching the knife Kacy had lost.
There was no blocking the sharp blade arcing. But Kacy tried, throwing herself backwards into the current.
Bang.
Betty’s eyes widened, and the arm stopping moving. Floating on her back, Kacy saw the perfect, dime-sized hole barely fill with blood before the woman’s body sank in the water.
Thrashing to get her feet back down, Kacy whirled to see Gerard, soaked to the skin in a dark suit, his gun kept dry in a plastic bag.
“Thank you.”
Her smile quickly faded, though, as the gun didn’t lower but aimed at her.
“Don’t thank me yet.” Gerard smiled, not the vapid grin of a servant but of someone used to being in charge. “Is now a good time to mention I’m the one who arranged this fantastic event?”
“I thought that was Stefanov?”
Gerard snorted. “A simple minion playing a part. As the true owner of this island, I’m rescinding my invitation.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Crack. The branch hit Gerard on the back of the head with a satisfying crunch before the lying prick could put a hole in Kacy.
The body fell into the lazy river and bobbed merrily away, but Marcus let it go for
the moment, more concerned about the woman standing drenched and alive in the current.
Kacy blinked at him. And then smiled. “Nice timing.”
“I know.”
He held out his hand, and she gripped it, trusting him to pull her to safety, which, in this case, meant in his arms for a crushing hug.
He couldn’t stop himself from holding her, his relief immense. “Stop trying to give me heart attacks. I thought my chest would explode when you were yanked off that bridge.”
“Remind me to never go cliff diving with you,” she quipped.
“Do not joke about this.” Not when his pulse still raced in fear. Seeing someone standing over the woman he loved holding a gun did things to a guy.
“Get over it, meathead. You’re just jealous because you were afraid I would get ahead in the kill count.”
“Too late. I’m pretty sure I’m beating you.”
“Did you run into someone while I was wrestling Betty?”
“Two someones. Your pal, Willow, who, as it turns out, was in cahoots with the Aussie couple. Her British employer never knew.”
“Is he dead?”
Marcus nodded. According to Willow, who’d cackled as she struck Marcus from behind, “That snooty bastard never even saw it coming.”
“I almost died, too. When you got taken off the bridge, I was kind of distracted.” More like terrified that he was about to lose Kacy. “While I was searching the water, they snuck up on me and clocked me in the head.”
Her fingertips touched the wound at his temple. “Good thing it’s made of rock.”
“Yes, it is a good thing, and also a good thing they underestimated the density of my skull. I pretended to fall, and when she came close, I tackled her around the knees. Her head hit the ground, and she was out cold. Then I showed Outback Tom why he shouldn’t bring a knife to a fist fight.”
“And then you found me before Gerard could kill me.” She squeezed him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. We should have stayed in the tower and let these idiots kill each other. I thought the wars I fought in were crazy and stupid, but this is…”