by Vella Day
Brandon had plotted the entire drive. “Unit 3A.”
They piled out, traipsed up the steps, and knocked on her door. Excitement sizzled inside him. Brandon had kept awake on the drive, imagining all the wonderful things they were going to do with Mackenzie. Kissing, loving, talking, and more loving.
“She’s not answering,” Sam said. He knocked again with more force. “Mackenzie, it’s Sam and Brandon.”
In a way, Brandon was glad she was cautious. The cold air snaked down his jacket. “Maybe she’s asleep.”
A door two down from her apartment swung open. A woman, who looked to be about twenty-five came out. She was bundled up, seemingly going to work. “If you’re looking for Mac, she’s not here.”
Brandon twisted around. “How do you know?”
“She said she was going on vacation.”
Mackenzie wasn’t frivolous like that. “Did she go with someone?” Perhaps she was as miserable as they were, and Jay had suggested they go skiing or something.
“I don’t know. Her mom might have an idea.”
Brandon had that address, too. “Thanks.” The girl left. “I say we ask Mrs. Wagner. I’ve got Jay’s address, if we need to pay him a visit.”
Ten minutes later, they pulled in front of her mom’s house. It was two-story and boxy, but it seemed to be in good repair.
When Mrs. Wagner opened the door, Brandon was surprised at her red-rimmed eyes. His hope sunk.
“May I help you?”
“I hope so.” He held out his hand. “I’m Brandon Crenshaw and this is my cousin, Sam.” He wasn’t even sure if Mackenzie had mentioned them.
Her eyes lit up. “Mackenzie’s men? Come in. Did she call you?” The woman pressed her palms together as if in prayer.
The inside was cozy and warm, but Brandon couldn’t really focus on the home. “What do you mean did she call us? Didn’t Mackenzie mention it wouldn’t be safe to communicate?”
“Yes.” She waved a hand. “Never mind. Please, sit down, and I’ll get her letter. You need to read it.”
Brandon glanced at Sam who appeared not only confused but royally pissed. Take it easy. There must be an explanation.
Mrs. Wagner came back from down the hall. “Here you go. This was on the kitchen counter yesterday. I was at work and when I came home, I found the letter. I don’t know what I’m going to do with her. My daughter is too damned stubborn.”
“We’re well aware of that, ma’am.”
“Please. Call me Janet. After all, if the three of you can ever find the time to be together, I’m guessing I’ll have a real family again.”
Brandon wished that were true. He placed the letter between them where they both could read it.
Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t wait until you came home from work, but a friend called and said she was sure she’d spotted Cheryl in Gulfside. I need to check. Love you. Be back as soon as I can.
The mother wrung her hands together. “Since you two are here, I’m guessing you weren’t this friend?”
“No. Is Jay here?”
“I don’t know. I could call his mom.” Her mouth twisted, acting as if the two weren’t close.
“That’s okay,” Brandon said. “I have the number.”
“When did you get here?” she asked.
“Just now. We stopped at Mackenzie’s apartment, but a neighbor said you might know where she was.”
“Do you want to stay here a bit and rest? You both look exhausted. I’ll call into work and tell them I’m taking the day off.”
He looked at his cousin. They were exhausted, but he didn’t want to inconvenience her. “I suppose you don’t know whether she drove to Florida or flew, do you?”
“No. Mackenzie’s a good driver, but I can’t imagine her driving down there all by herself. That would be crazy.”
Which was exactly why she’d do it.
* * *
Mackenzie was beat. Keeping her eyes open was a chore, especially since she’d been driving behind the same truck for hours. Cheryl was possibly in Florida—alive—and Mac had to find a way to save her. Throughout the drive she debated how much to involve her men, and the debate made her head hurt worse. If the Colters caught any of them snooping around, not only might Sam and Brandon not get away this time, Paul Statler would use all of his resources to make sure they didn’t live to snoop again.
God, but she was torn. If she did nothing, they’d remain safe, but Cheryl might be sent away to some terrible place where scientists would use her body to enhance werewolves. Jesus, but that was ironic. Poor Cheryl didn’t even know that species existed.
Mac slapped the wheel and the pain raced up her arm, jolting her awake. She wasn’t sure she could choose between her men and her cousin. Nope. Mac couldn’t do it. She’d just have to figure out a way to save Cheryl by herself. Even asking Jay for help would be wrong.
When the gas tank light came on the dashboard, a bit of reality entered. She should have been paying more attention. Mac immediately exited the interstate and refueled. Inside the small shop was a fast food restaurant where she ordered a hamburger and a large coffee to go. As much as she wanted to spend the night in a warm hotel, someone might spot her, and she couldn’t let that happen. There were Colters all across the country, and there was no telling how far Paul Statler would go to find her. Her safest bet would be to pull into a rest stop that had security and catch a few hours sleep.
Despite a two-hour stop, by the time Mac crossed the state line between Georgia and Florida, she’d thought through her options. It wouldn’t be fair to her men if she didn’t give them the choice about whether to help her. Sure, they would rant and probably lock her in the bedroom, but she wasn’t worried. She could get out of any locked room. That is, if they didn’t take her lock picks away from her.
It was around seven in the evening when she arrived at their home, and even though it was dark, the streetlights illuminated their drive. Not wanting anyone to spot her car, she pulled in back. Brandon’s car sat behind the garage in plain sight. Yes! Happy to have a rational sounding board, she stepped up to the back door. He’d set her up with the eye scan to allow her access to the house. Even if he hadn’t, she had the key.
Once inside, she wondered why all the lights were off. “Brandon?”
Dang. He must be out with Sam. That wasn’t the end of the world. Not wanting to chance turning on any lights for fear someone might be watching or driving by, she set down her case in the middle of the hallway and found her way to his bathroom. Since that room had no windows, she closed the door and flipped the switch. She would have stopped on the way down to Florida and checked out her hunch, but she didn’t want to chance an unsecured Wi-Fi.
She knew what she had to do. Once she booted up her computer, she went to work looking up the outline for Roger Medlock’s home on the property appraiser’s site. His mansion was listed as a little bit over fourteen thousand square feet. While the rooms weren’t listed, the outline of the home was given. She mentally walked through each side of the house again and smiled.
“Gotcha.”
Mac was so tempted to get in her car and drive straight to Jay’s house and tell him, but she’d be fresher in a few hours. Brandon and Sam would be home by then, too. Between the four of them, they were sure to come up with a good plan.
She crawled into Brandon’s bed, wanting to make sure they noticed that she was back. The soft mattress, the familiar surroundings, and their spicy scent in the air, relaxed her enough so that sleep claimed her quickly.
Mac jerked awake. Seconds passed before she remembered she was no longer at her house, but back in Florida with her men. The glowing red numbers of the bedside clock read 4:12 a.m. Shit. She hadn’t meant to sleep so long. Her eyes worked well in the dark. Perhaps not as well as Brandon’s or Sam’s, but close. The bed was empty. Something was wrong. The men would have woken her up, wouldn’t they have?
She’d be upset if Brandon decided to sleep on the couch. To check, she grabb
ed her phone with the flashlight app and padded her way to the living room. He wasn’t on the sofa. Damn. To confirm her suspicion, she headed back to the bathroom. His electric toothbrush and razor weren’t where he kept them. That meant he’d left town. Crap. Had the Colters come after them, forcing him and Sam to leave? Whatever the reason, it wasn’t good.
Wait a minute. Her men wouldn’t have run. They must be hiding. Only where?
She had no idea, which meant she’d have to check out Medlock’s home with just Jay and Riley. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten in quite some time. Having no idea how long she’d be doing surveillance, she’d better eat. Mac dragged her suitcase into the bathroom, changed, and then went to the kitchen. Even though no light would leak to the front, the kitchen had a large side window. Between the ice dispenser light, the display on the stove and microwave, and LED on the dishwasher, she could see quite well. She fixed a bowl of cereal and carried it out to the dining room table.
When she sat down, she spotted a roll of white paper on top. Curious what it was, she unrolled it. Faint blue lines, looking like a detailed drawing of something, covered it. She quickly picked it up and headed back to the safety of the bathroom. Spreading the paper out on the counter, her heart jammed into her throat. She recognized the structure even before her eye caught the heading.
“Holy shit.” It was a schematic of Roger Medlock’s house and the location of the alarms. Her heart beat so fast, her palms sweated. Her mind reeled as she studied the design. Something was off, though.
Mac dashed into the bedroom to get her computer. Once she returned, she brought up the outline of Medlock’s home from the property appraiser’s site. They didn’t match. That could only mean one thing. Medlock had a hidden room; or in this case, a suite of rooms. Excitement soared through her. While she wasn’t a security expert, it appeared as if the person who’d installed the alarm had no idea this part of the house existed. That meant, there was no direct access from the main house. Or was there? The drawing detailed the doors, and none existed into that back section. She had to assume there was hidden panel of some sort. It didn’t matter. Even if Mac could gain access through the house, it would take too long to find this passageway.
It would be getting light soon, and she wanted to sneak in Medlock’s house before he awoke. Mac quickly dressed, and then carefully rolled the schematic to make carrying it easier. After making sure the house was secure, she headed out. Keeping her headlights off until she exited the street, she drove to Jay’s. He’d know what to do.
If Paul Statler believed Jay dead, her cousin would also be keeping a low profile. She went past his house, not wanting anyone to notice she was near. Parking a block away, she turned off the overhead light before slipping out. She then cut in between houses to avoid detection. No cars sat in the drive, but that didn’t surprise her if Jay wanted the Colters to think he was dead.
If it weren’t for that neighborhood-awakening alarm, she would have picked the lock. With no back door, she was forced to tap on Jay’s bedroom window. Crap. Why wasn’t he answering? Had everyone associated with her fled town?
Duh. Jay mentioned he was a heavy sleeper.
Pounding and yelling would only rouse suspicion. A few of the homes on the street were already lit, indicating that a few people were up. Jay had jalousie-style windows, which were common in old Florida homes. She’d have to chastise him about his lack of security. These were too easy to break into. She opened the panes and called out to him again. When no snoring came from the room, she concluded he wasn’t home. There seemed no use to breaking in.
Now what? She didn’t know Riley, so tapping on his window might cause unwanted results. The first rays of daylight were appearing. Decision made. She’d go it alone. Her plan was to check out that extra space in Medlock’s house and consider options for getting in. Then she’d seek help from Jay later—or Sam and Brandon if she could ever find them.
Time was running out.
As much as she wanted to race to Medlock’s house, Mac kept to the speed limit. Concerned about a tail, she also took many detours. When she finally drove down the man’s street, she was confident no one had followed her. The for sale sign remained in front of the house two doors down, and Mac figured no one would care if she parked at the end of the drive.
Because of the lack of fencing around Medlock’s mansion, Mac decided to enter from the back. She ducked between two adjacent houses, moving quickly and effortlessly. She halted as she neared Medlock’s home. Her senses didn’t detect any werewolves roaming the property, but that didn’t mean there weren’t some inside. At the party, she’d spotted a building in back that she noticed some of the workers going in and out of. It might belong to the guards. Even though it was fairly dark, she didn’t dare peek in the window. She wasn’t here to get caught. That could cost her life and possibly those of her men.
Out of sight of any window, she placed her ear against the cement side, but she didn’t hear anyone stirring. That might mean they were asleep.
Keeping low, she moved liked a cat toward the side of the main house. It came as no surprise that the northwest side had no windows. To have them would defeat the purpose of a hidden room.
Determined to find a way in, she inched her way toward the front of the house. There, behind a shrub, sat a window, but it was too high to look out from the inside. Windows like that usually were in either closets or bathrooms. Taking a chance that no one was watching, she flashed her light on the window and spotted something strange—a lock on the outside.
“Bingo!” she whispered.
She surmised the exterior latch was to keep someone in. The problem was that Mac couldn’t pick the lock unless she could reach it. She had come merely to scope out possible entry points, but now that she was here, she couldn’t resist trying to break in. Once she got inside, she’d find Cheryl and help her escape. Her pulse soared at the possibility.
Because of the window’s location, she’d need a boost up. Think. On her way from the rear of the property, she’d passed a table and chair set by the back house. All she needed was the chair. How to get it without attracting attention was the problem. Werewolves had exceptional hearing. But she had to try.
Keeping low, she rushed to the back house. All lights were off, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t watching. Squatting, she duck-walked to the chair, making sure she was below the sight line of the window. When she reached the chair, it appeared to be metal and heavy, making any movement chancy.
Cheryl’s life was at stake. Mac was strong for a woman, but could she lift it from this position? She had to try. Very slowly, she tilted back the chair and dragged it onto her knees. In this very awkward position, she edged backward until she was out of view of the window. When no werewolves charged, she lifted the chair over her head and carried it back to the locked window on the main house.
Once at eye level, opening the lock was easy. She carefully lifted the sash and climbed in. Normally calm, her pulse was racing and her forehead, palms, and back were dripping from sweat. She told herself it was the high humidity and not her fear.
Mac was now standing in a tub in an empty bathroom. So far so good. The window didn’t want to remain open, so she wedged her lock pick kit under the sash. She couldn’t hear what was happening in the next room because of the blood pounding in her head, but she had to check it out.
The handle moved smoothly, hopefully preventing anyone from hearing her. When she pushed open the door, she appeared to be in a bedroom. Without any windows and no glow from a clock, she could barely see, even with her good eyes.
Please let the lump in the bed be Cheryl.
“Cheryl,” she called softly as she moved closer. When the person didn’t respond, Mac tiptoed to the side of the bed and tapped the person’s shoulder.
Now that Mac had basically announced her arrival, she had nothing to lose if she turned on a light. With a swipe of her finger on her cell phone, the room lit up and Mac’s
heart jumped.
Cheryl sat up in bed, groggy and disoriented. She rubbed her eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Cheryl. It’s me. Mac.”
Cheryl leaned over and flicked on the bedside lamp. Her eyes finally opened wide. “Mac! What are you doing here?” Instead of the excitement Mac expected, there was fear in her cousin’s voice. While Cheryl’s hair was a bit wild, she looked good—healthy in fact. The relief helped Mac focus.
“I came to rescue you. Come on.” By now, Mac’s pulse had slowed enough to recognize the footsteps in the house.
“I can’t leave.”
What? “Yes, you can. I opened the window. Come on.” A few shouts came from behind the wall. “We have to go. Now!”
“No. You don’t understand. You need to get out of here.”
Cheryl was either drugged or brainwashed. Clearly, she didn’t understand the severity of the situation. Mac ripped the covers off her cousin and dragged her to her feet. “It’s you who doesn’t understand. Medlock is evil.”
“I know. He’ll kill my parents and your mom if I escape or tell anyone.”
So that was what was keeping her here. She had to make her cousin see reason. “I have friends. They’ll take care of Roger Medlock. Don’t worry.”
Cheryl looked around. “What about my things?”
“Nothing’s more important than our lives. Come on. We have to go.” Mac didn’t wait for her cousin to argue. She grabbed her by the hand and led her to the bathroom. This time, Mac turned on the light. “Climb through the window. And then run.”
“Where?”
“I’ll be right behind you.” Mac lifted the window. “I’ll help you up. There’s a chair on the outside. Go.”
With Mac’s help, Cheryl climbed out. Just as Mac was partway through, the bathroom door banged open, and a strong hand grabbed her foot and yanked her back in.
Oh, fuck.
Chapter Thirty
Even after Cheryl’s feet hit the grass below, she had no idea where she was. It was dark, damp, and cold, and her thin nightgown wasn’t enough to keep her warm. Wrapping her arms around her body, she looked right then left, trying to figure out which way to go. Panic stole her breath. Was this smart? If she didn’t go back inside, Mr. Medlock would do as he threatened. Then again, she trusted Mac to do as she claimed.