by Debra Webb
With the helicopter sweeping its spotlight over the terrain, and the SUV and likely other vehicles combing the area by ground, it wouldn’t take that long for Romero to come to that realization.
Their only option was to go back into the tunnel and take their chances back at the house. Romero would have most of his security force involved in the search with him. Minimal guards would remain at the house. One or two maybe.
She and Tallant were armed. Those were odds they could live with.
Tallant snagged her right hand in his left and moved toward the tunnel entrance.
Nora stumbled after him, her gaze glued to the way his big hand engulfed hers…the manner in which those long, strong fingers curled around hers.
He hesitated at the steps leading downward. “You’re sure you can do this?”
Nora blinked back the pharmaceutical haze that still fogged her vision and glared at him. “Go!” She was fine. His grabbing her hand had distracted her, put her even more off balance…sort of.
As he dragged her forward, she reached around to the small of her back and pulled the weapon from her waistband. She wasn’t a lefty, but she’d rather have the weapon in hand than not. Tallant had already palmed his and held it in a readied position. He was braced for confrontation. And confrontation was a given.
Focusing on each step was necessary. Her equilibrium wasn’t back to normal by any means. Whatever they’d injected her with—a muscle relaxer of some kind, she believed—it hadn’t fully worn off yet. The walls shifted a little, but only in her mind. Oddly, she was glad for Tallant’s strong hold on her hand. He kept her moving forward. She was pretty sure that a couple of times she would have stopped otherwise, particularly on the descent of the steps.
Her throat and mouth felt sand dry. Her vision wasn’t anywhere near up to par. And her balance was way off. But she was upright and moving forward. Tallant lugged her along behind him, his determined steps barely a whisper of sound and in sharp contrast to her drunken shuffle.
If they got out of here alive, it would be entirely his doing.
Tallant halted.
Nora bumped into his back. Though she’d realized he had stopped, her depth perception was suffering from the drug, as well.
Tallant held the barrel of his handgun to his lips, cautioning her to remain silent.
The branch of the tunnel that led to the two holding cells was up ahead. If a member of Romero’s security team waited around that bend, there was no way for them to know until it was too late.
Struggling to keep her steps silent, Nora stayed close behind Tallant as he moved forward once more. When they were less than five yards from the door, he indicated for her to sit tight.
She didn’t like it but she didn’t argue. Frankly, she was in no condition to trust her judgment.
He eased closer and closer to the intersection of the two tunnels. Nora held her breath, braced to move into firing position.
Tallant checked the adjoining corridor, then sent her an all-clear sign.
Relief made her already wobbly knees a little weaker. She hurried after him, surprised at how quickly she could move now that it was safe to do so. Adrenaline probably. She needed more of it to neutralize the effects of the drug.
However, getting it by the usual methods—fear, anger, panic—wouldn’t exactly be a good thing just now.
When he closed his hand around hers once more, a little shot of heat seared through her. She shouldn’t have enjoyed it…but she did.
No sound up ahead or behind them. The coming fork would take them to the house. One route led to the pool and entertaining area, and the other to Romero’s private entrance that led to his study on the first floor and on up to his bedroom suite on the second.
Nora tugged on Tallant’s hand. He hesitated, stared down at her. She gestured to the left, which would take them to the pool and entertaining area. He nodded his understanding and started in that direction. Another of those small heat bursts accompanied the idea that he trusted her to make that decision.
Maybe he wasn’t such a bad guy, after all.
That he’d risked his life to rescue her spoke volumes. The way she’d treated him, it was a miracle he’d bothered. Then again, she would have done the same for him—complaining the entire time, of course. And in the end either one of them would have been required to answer to Victoria Colby-Camp. That alone was motivation enough to do the right thing.
She hadn’t really paid any genuine attention until now, but Tallant’s shoulders were seriously wide. Blocked her view of anything else. His curly blond hair was boyish, yet there was nothing boyish about his muscular body. Or those intense gold eyes.
Apparently the lingering effect of the drugs was making mush of her brain.
The private gaming room was dark, the door closed. Only a few more yards now. Her pulse reacted to the potential for danger.
As they neared the top of the steps leading to the pool and entertaining area, Tallant hesitated once more. Nora listened, as did he. The trickling of the water fountain was the only sound.
But that didn’t mean a guard wasn’t standing just on the other side of the shrubbery shrouding this entrance. Again, Tallant signaled for her to stay put. Not arguing, she leaned against the wall while he rose to the landing and surveyed the area behind the house.
That he moved away from the landing and the meager cover of the shrubbery had her heart kicking into a more rapid rhythm.
She shifted her weapon to her right hand. Her palms were sweating, but her mouth and throat remained intensely dry. Cocking her head, she listened for noise beyond the water sound.
Seconds turned to a full minute. Had he run into trouble beyond her hearing range?
One step up. She was still several from the landing. It couldn’t hurt to get a little closer.
One more.
Another.
Two steps from the top.
Deep breath.
She reached the landing and took stock of the situation.
The area was deserted. Ambient lighting sparkled against the water and highlighted the elegant plantings around the natural stone patio.
Where the hell was Tallant?
All sets of French doors along the back of the house remained closed, while the interior glowed like a shopping mall open for business.
But there wasn’t a human to be seen.
Somewhere beyond the walled entertaining area a dog howled. Another excellent reason they hadn’t tried that route for their escape. Her ankle burned with the memory of her close encounter with the K9 kind.
Okay. No Ted Tallant.
If he had been captured, she owed it to him to help despite her handicap at the moment.
Gripping her weapon with both hands, she moved toward the back of the house.
That soft trickle of water now sounded like a raging waterfall roaring in her head.
Keep moving. Focus. Listen for any sound. Look for any movement.
Her head suddenly swam. She stalled, regained her equilibrium before taking another step.
Foliage moved next to the French doors leading into the kitchen.
Nora blinked, lost her breath.
Tallant motioned for her to get back.
The French doors opened.
“Stop right there!”
Damn.
One of Ivan’s jerk patrolmen.
Since his weapon was aimed at her, she decided not to toss out the smart-aleck remark on the tip of her tongue. Instead, she held still, offered a caught-in-the-headlights look of distress but didn’t lower her weapon.
“Slow and easy now, honey,” he said as he took another step in her direction. “Bend your knees and ease down until you can lay your weapon on the ground. Then slide it toward me.”
Tallant moved.
Nora dove to the ground and rolled to the right.
A grunt echoed as the men tumbled to the ground in a heap. One weapon lay a few feet away from the struggle. Tallant’s remained in his hand, bu
t the guard was attempting to simultaneously keep it away from his body and to bang it loose from Tallant’s grip.
Nora scrambled to her feet, staggered a step or two. When the muzzle of her weapon was flat against the enemy’s skull, she ordered, “Put your arms flat against the ground.”
Both men stopped moving, but the guard hesitated before obeying her command.
“Now,” she snapped, pressing the business end of the gun deeper into his hard head.
His fingers unclenched, releasing Tallant, and with obvious reluctance he spread his arms out on the ground on either side of him.
Tallant got to his feet and picked up the other man’s weapon. “Do you always ignore your partner’s orders?” he demanded as he belted the extra weapon.
Nora didn’t have to wonder who he was talking to. How long would he have waited for this dude to come outside if she hadn’t appeared? She shot him a look. “Only when my partner leaves me hanging.”
“Let’s go.” Tallant motioned for the man to get on his feet.
“There’ll be at least one more around here somewhere,” Nora related as she scanned the area around the pool. “Ivan never leaves less than two on duty.”
“We’ll check the front first before going inside,” Tallant suggested. Only it didn’t sound like a suggestion; it sounded like an order.
Which was precisely why Nora ignored him. She shoved the muzzle of her weapon into the guard’s groin. “How many? And where are they?”
Nora didn’t have to look to know Tallant would be rolling his eyes. It was a cliché move, but if it worked, who cared?
“I’m not afraid of you.” The scumbag punctuated his haughty statement with a less than polite term directed at her character.
Tallant grabbed him in a choke hold and shoved his weapon into the soft underbelly of his throat. “Afraid of me, hotshot? Guys like you don’t do well in prison, and I promise you, if either of us ends up dead, that’s where you’re going.”
Just for the heck of it, Nora gave him a jab in the family jewels with her weapon.
“One more. He’s out front,” wheezed the guard.
Nora smiled. “See how easy it is to play nice?” She didn’t wait to see what Tallant intended to do with the guy; she strode directly into the house.
WHAT THE HELL WAS SHE doing?
Ted disabled the guy, lowered him to the ground and looked around for a way to secure him.
Nothing handy.
He removed the man’s belt and fastened his hands behind his back. Wrenched off his shoes and used his socks to secure his ankles. That would hold him for a while. On second thought, he grabbed a towel from the neatly folded stack on the bar near the pool and shoved a portion of it in his mouth to keep him quiet when he regained consciousness. With another quick glance around, he opted to drag the guy into the shrubbery so he wouldn’t be readily noticed if anyone came around to the back of the house.
Since he hadn’t heard any gunshots or breaking objects, Ted had to assume that Nora hadn’t encountered anyone inside.
Still, he went in silently.
The house was well lit. Quiet. No sign of Friedman.
The kitchen was clear.
He moved toward the wide entry hall.
Friedman waited, a finger pressed to her lips.
Ted surveyed the soaring two-story hall. No sound. Nobody.
She pointed to the door across the expanse of gleaming marble from where she stood.
He tapped his gun and sent her a questioning look. She shook her head no in response to his query as to whether there was another guard.
A voice beyond the towering front entry doors yanked their collective attention there.
The polished brass knob turned.
As if they had choreographed the move, both Ted and Friedman rushed the door, took a position on either side, careful not to make a sound.
When the door opened, Ted hesitated before ramming the muzzle of his weapon into the man’s temple.
“Yes, sir. All clear here.” The guard’s hand dropped to his side, cell phone clutched in his palm.
Ted moved in. “Give me the cell phone.”
Before the guy could react, Friedman had reached beneath his jacket and snatched his weapon.
“The phone,” Ted demanded.
The guy reached out, dropped the cell in Ted’s palm.
“On the floor,” Ted ordered.
“They’ll be back here any minute,” the guy warned as he dropped down to his knees.
“And we’ll be gone,” Friedman taunted.
“Hands behind your back,” Ted ordered.
Friedman, weapon leveled for confrontation, eased back toward the door she’d initially been watching.
Listening for any trouble she might encounter, Ted quickly secured the man on the floor the same as he had the one outside. He dragged him to the coat closet and shoved him inside, then grabbed a pair of gloves from the overhead shelf and gagged him.
Friedman was speaking, not the slightest bit softly, either.
Ted moved cautiously to the door she’d entered. A study or library. The gray-haired man who’d had Friedman strapped to that gurney stood in the middle of the room with his hands up. He’d exchanged the scrubs for an elegant suit. A cell phone lay on the floor between his feet.
“Check that phone and make sure he didn’t put a call through,” Friedman ordered.
Ted picked up the phone and checked the outgoing calls. “Not in the last two hours.”
“Good.” Friedman gave a satisfied nod. “I guess I don’t have to kill you, Doc.”
So he was a doctor.
“We should get out of here,” Ted urged. “Romero could show up anytime.”
“He will,” the gray-haired man said, his head moving up and down with the same panic flashing in his eyes. “You don’t want to be here if that hap pens.” He looked directly at Friedman and said, “Trust me.”
“We won’t be here,” Friedman assured him. “And neither will you.”
Ted frowned at her. He had no intention of taking a hostage.
“He’s our way out of here,” she explained. “He knows the gate code. He’s Romero’s private physician.” She glared at the old man. “And he knows what he gave me.”
Ted could understand her reasoning. “Let’s go.”
Friedman pushed the doctor out the door, her gun jammed into his back. “I hope you have your keys, Doc.”
The doctor nodded.
“Which pocket?” Ted demanded.
“Right jacket pocket.”
Ted fished out the man’s keys on the way out the door.
“That one.” The doctor pointed to the luxury automobile parked to the right of the grand stairs leading up from the parking patio.
Ted disengaged the car’s security system, careful to keep watch in all directions around them. There was only supposed to be two of Ivan’s guards hanging around the house, but that could have been a lie.
Friedman ushered the doctor into the backseat, where she joined him.
Ted slid behind the wheel. When he’d started the engine and rolled up to the gates, the doc spouted the code. Hoping like hell he hadn’t provided some kind of panic code, Ted entered the numbers and relaxed significantly when the gates swung open.
As soon as they were out the gates and moving at a nice speed along the highway, Ted pulled out his cell and checked for missed calls.
Five from Simon Ruhl.
As he put in a call to his superior, he asked Friedman, “Where’re we going?”
“Back to the Palomino to find Soto.” Friedman’s gaze collided with his in the rearview mirror. “She had to have sold me out. I don’t know how she knew—”
Ted launched into a conversation with Simon, cutting her off for the moment.
The news was not good, on any count.
This entire investigation had unraveled.
“Yes.” Ted nodded. “I understand.” He closed his cell and dropped it onto the seat. “
We have several problems.”
“You mean besides Ivan Romero and this old geezer?” Friedman bopped the doctor in the back of the head. “Just what the hell were you planning to do to me? And what kind of drug was I given?”
The doctor leaned slightly away from her, as if he feared she might whack him again. “A muscle relaxer. Only enough to relax you for…surgery. I would have given you an anesthetic for that.”
“Surgery?” Friedman shouted. “Are you crazy? What surgery?”
“Since you deprived him of his only child,” replied the doctor, his voice shaking with fear, “he ordered me to ensure you were never able to have any children.”
God Almighty. Ted gave himself a mental shake to dislodge the idea of what would have happened had he not gotten to her before…
Friedman whacked the guy in the head again. “Idiot,” she muttered. “Don’t you know better than to work for a thug like that?”
“Nora.”
She met Ted’s gaze in the mirror. He’d known that calling her by her first name would get her attention. “I just spoke to Simon. Trinity Barrett is here, but he’s been detained at the airfield. While we were incommunicado, Camille Soto and Dr. Vandiver apparently went underground. They’re not answering calls and presumably are in hiding at the Palomino.”
“That’s where we’re going,” she said, fury rising in her voice. “I’m getting the truth out of that blond—”
“And Heather Vandiver has disappeared.”
“What?”
Ted nodded. “She’s gone.”
“How the hell did she give Rocky the slip?”
“Taser. When he recovered, she was gone.”
“She’s on her way here,” said Friedman, surmising.
Their gazes bumped once more in the mirror.
She didn’t have to elaborate.
Dr. Brent Vandiver had insisted his wife had been trying to kill him. Maybe he’d been telling the truth.
Chapter Fourteen
Palomino Casino and Hotel
6:30 a.m.
“If you go in there, someone may recognize you,” Tallant warned.
“You just take care of him.” Nora tossed her head toward the doc in the backseat. “I’ll take care of me.” Just because she’d gotten ambushed once in the past twenty-four hours didn’t mean she was incapable.