Fiancé by Friday

by Catherine Bybee

  “He’s not. But I’ll call him and tell him to call Neil’s phone right away.”

  “OK…thanks, Eliza.”

  “I’ll call you right back.”

  Eliza hung up and Gwen held her phone in her lap. Lights flashed out her front and back windows.

  Two people were dead. Gwen wasn’t sure she could live in this house alone after all.

  “You noticed something abnormal on the surveillance system?” the sarcastic, wet-behind-the-ears cop asked.

  Neil lied. “Yes.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll have my assistant make a digital file for you to examine.” What Neil needed right now was to get out of the bedroom and over the fence into the neighbors’ yard to check out the scene himself.

  “Did you know the victims?”

  “No.”

  “Miss Harrison?”

  “You’ll have to ask her.”

  “Who are you to Miss Harrison?”

  Neil narrowed his eyes. “Her security.”

  “This is hardly an upscale neighborhood, Mr. MacBain. Sounds like the security system you have here and the surveillance is over-the-top.”

  Neil’s jaw twitched. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to investigate the scene.”

  “Private security isn’t cleared, Mr. MacBain. I’m sure you know that.”

  Neil clenched his fist.

  The cell phone ringing in his pocket directed his attention somewhere else and kept him from committing a felony.

  “MacBain,” he answered.

  “Neil? It’s Carter. What’s going on?”

  Neil turned his back to the cops. “Gwen’s neighbors are dead.”

  “That’s what Eliza just said.”

  “Mr. MacBain, this is an active scene, we don’t—”

  “I need clearance from whoever’s in charge of Tarzana PD to check out the scene. And I need it before they fuck it up over there.”

  The officers looked at each other with slight smiles on their lips.

  Cocky kids.

  Neil heard Carter talking to someone before he got back on the phone. If anyone could arrange his clearance, it would be the governor.

  “I have someone on it. Eliza just called Dean.” Good. Dean was a detective with the LAPD, and a close friend of Eliza’s. “Do you think it’s a homicide?” asked Carter.

  “I won’t know until I look. Hope the hell not.”

  “Mr. MacBain?”

  “I’ve got to go,” Neil told his friend. “Call Blake, tell him Gwen’s safe.”

  “Will do. I’ll call back if there’s a holdup.”

  After Neil hung up, the officers started questioning him again. “Where do you live?”

  Where he lived wasn’t relevant and answering these kids’ questions while the uniforms were running around outside was a waste of valuable time. Neil cut them off. “I’ll talk to you after I’ve seen the area.”

  He returned to Gwen’s side. She hadn’t moved an inch from the couch.

  “You all right?”

  Her blonde head started to nod and then she shook it. “You don’t think this was an accident.”

  Neil didn’t confirm or deny.

  “That’s why you told me to stay in my room, get the gun.”

  Those few moments when she’d screamed and didn’t respond to him on the phone were the longest in his life. He ran out of his house and broke every traffic law to get to her. Rick’s words repeated in his head. I think they were just fucking with him…making him bleed on the inside, ya know?

  Neil glanced at the officers as they walked down the stairs and out the back door.

  He shoved his hand into his pocket and removed the crumpled up paper clipping of Gwen and Karen and the dead bird.

  “What was this about?”

  Gwen smoothed the paper on her lap. “Karen and I were eating dinner. She found the dead bird on the ground by the passenger side of the car.”

  “You look upset in the picture.”

  “We…we were a little worried. Karen found a dead crow outside her window in the flowers a few days earlier. She hates birds so she asked me…” Gwen kept talking but Neil didn’t hear her.

  Two…two dead crows?

  “The crow in the window I didn’t think much of. But this looked bigger to me, like a raven. I looked it up. Ravens aren’t indigenous to this area.”

  “I have Raven in my sights, Mac.” Billy was holding a sniper weapon and Neil was about to call the order to fire, save all of them the trouble of moving closer so they could get the hell out of there.

  “Damn.” Billy pulled back.

  “What?”

  “Kids. His kids jumped in his lap.”

  “Wait. We’ll get closer. Make it clean.” Less collateral damage.

  “Neil?” Gwen’s hand was on his arm, bringing him back.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this?” He needed to get her out of there.

  “We thought this was about Karen. A sick fan of Michael’s.”

  It could be Gwen floating in a pool of water…and not the neighbor.

  “Karen?”

  “She hates birds. We found them in her window and on her side of the car.”

  “Mr. MacBain?” The officer nodded toward the back. “You’ve been cleared.”

  Thank you, Carter!

  “Go upstairs, Gwen. Pack a bag. You’re not staying here.”

  He didn’t wait around for an argument. He moved out the back door and scaled the block wall.

  The bodies had been pulled out of the water and were covered with sheets. The dozen officers in the yard were poking their flashlights around.

  “Who’s in charge?” Neil asked as he walked to the back of the hot tub.

  “I am.”

  Neil looked over, and noticed a uniformed officer. “First on scene?”

  “That’s right.”

  Which meant he was waiting for someone of higher rank to show up and take over. “What do you know?”

  “Each victim has burn wounds, one on the hand, the other the side of the face.”

  Electrocuted. “Where did you cut the power?”

  “At the box.”

  Neil stood, moved to the side of the yard. Two cops were looking inside the box. One of them took pictures.

  “Neil?”

  Neil turned and saw Dean and his partner Jim walking his way.

  “Thanks for coming.”

  “Excuse me.” The lead officer pushed his way between them.

  Dean and his partner flashed their badges.

  “You’re out of your jurisdiction, detective.”

  Dean pointed to Gwen’s house. “Do you know who lived in that house?”

  The officer shook his head.

  “The governor’s wife. Anything that happens within a mile of this house is my jurisdiction. Now tell your guys to back off, they’re trampling the scene.”

  The officer took Dean’s advice and walked away.

  “I love saying that.” Dean’s easy smile spread over his face.

  “What happened?”

  Neil brought them up to date. Omitting all information about the ravens. For now.

  Dean looked around. “You think it’s a homicide?”

  “When’s the last time you heard of a couple frying in a Jacuzzi?” Neil asked.

  They walked back toward the tub. The other cops were standing aside.

  Jim lifted a tarp. Neil didn’t see what was underneath, and didn’t need to.

  “Electricity travels though the body and out just about anywhere. Frying everything in between.”

  “The water was still charged when the uniforms arrived,” Neil told them.

  He knelt down to the service door of the tub. One of the officers had already opened it. “Do you have a flashlight?”

  Jim handed him one.

  Neil peered in. Any possibility that this was an accident dissipated when he spotted the dead birds.

  “What the hell are those?”

&n
bsp; “Ravens.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “Run, hero…run.”

  Playing with his prey was more addictive than crack. No wonder gangbangers couldn’t keep their asses out of jail. They were all high and doing shit like this…well, not quite like this.

  This was fucking genius.

  He watched as Neil scaled the back fence and ran into the house. One suit followed him, while the other directed the minions.

  He popped a sour candy in his mouth and watched the entertainment.

  His binoculars followed Neil pulling the girl from the house and shoving her in his car. Neil tossed a bag into the backseat, and slammed the door closed.

  “I thought you didn’t care, MacBain. Thought you were leaving your princess.”

  He laughed, shoved more candy in his mouth. Now that Mac had proved the woman meant something to him, it was time to take her away.

  Mac didn’t deserve to be happy. None of them did.

  Gwen fell into an exhausted heap on the bed in one of Blake’s guest rooms.

  Downstairs Neil appeared to be mobilizing for some kind of war. He and Dillon moved all the surveillance equipment into Blake’s study, along with several large black boxes Gwen assumed held weapons.

  She’d given up asking Neil for details. When he’d run into the house and found her packing a suitcase instead of a bag, Neil shoved a bare minimum of clothes into a satchel and rushed her to Malibu.

  Dean followed him into the house and the two of them talked for half an hour before Dean left.

  All Gwen wanted to do was sleep. Refill her energy reserve and sort out what had happened on this never-ending night.

  She took a long, hot shower before climbing into the plush, welcoming bed. As she closed her eyes, she forced the images of hot tubs and death from her mind and focused on the memory of Neil’s embrace.

  It took Neil some time to remove the tracking locators for his phone, and on the cars they would be leaving in that night. He set the house system to produce static for ten minutes when he was ready to move. He was doing everything possible to leave the house and keep anyone from knowing about it.

  After returning from the Tarzana home, his first thought was to hold Gwen in the ivory tower known as the Malibu estate, and find the man responsible for the neighbors’ deaths…for Billy. Yet as he moved his equipment into the house and rebooted the system, he noticed two stealth cookies locked onto his system.

  His state-of-the-art system had been hacked. Hacked so damn well that Neil couldn’t find a physical bug. It had to be there, but he couldn’t see it.

  He knew now the reason he never found a problem with the Tarzana lines was because the problems manifested from the outside. The equipment used was beyond his knowledge. Every year the military came up with even more spectacular stuff to make their jobs easier. Ever since the invention of a bug, engineers worked to make them smaller and harder to detect. Well, this one he detected. Neil just couldn’t find the damn thing.

  With the news of Billy’s death and the trail of dead ravens following Gwen, Neil knew he wasn’t dealing with just anyone.

  Whoever was behind the hot tub murders had a background in intelligence.

  Since Billy was dead, Neil had to assume the person could overpower Billy physically as well.

  Sitting in the Malibu house was a trap. Neil knew that now. Who knew how extensive this man’s reach was?

  Neil’s brief conversation with Blake was met with resistance.

  “I’ll fly Gwen back here. She’ll be safe at Albany.”

  Neil didn’t agree. The only safe place for Gwen was at his side until he caught this dirtbag and took him down.

  “She’s safer here. With me. And before you suggest it, no. Don’t come home early.”

  “Bloody hell, Neil. You expect me to sit here while people are ending up dead there?”

  No. He expected Blake to come back as soon as the plane could lift off. But that would bring more people to watch over…more people for the killer to go after.

  “Remember when we met, Blake?”

  Of course he would. It had been the lowest moment in Neil’s life. Six months had passed since he’d limped what was left of his team to safety. Three team members had been blown into so many pieces Neil couldn’t identify them. Billy and Smiley carried Linden out, his left leg severed mid thigh. He died on the way home. His body couldn’t handle the blood loss.

  Neil never thought he’d have survivor’s guilt.

  Yet he did. He was alive and his men were dead…all because he said to hold the shot until they got closer.

  “I remember.”

  Neil pulled in his memories, tried to keep what he said as cloaked as possible. Chances were, the man responsible for tonight was listening right now.

  “What did I do the next day…after I sobered up?”

  They’d met in a bar. And not a place Blake would normally walk into. Blake had returned to the States after his father’s funeral and wanted to remain anonymous while he proceeded to get hammered.

  They toasted each other for hours. Two strangers hating life and commiserating with a bottle. Neil had spent six months drinking to forget. He remembered saying that much to Blake.

  Neil still wasn’t completely sure just how much he’d told Blake about his time in the military. But somewhere at the end of the bottle, Blake pushed the wrong button.

  “So that’s it,” Blake said. “You’re done with life. Gonna spend the rest of it in a shithole like this until you’re one of those vets on the street with a fucking cardboard box?”

  Neil took a swing, connected his fist with Blake’s jaw. Blake was on him in seconds. Managed a few good hits, too, but even drunk Neil outmaneuvered the man and had him pinned in seconds. He could have taken the fight further but the problem was, Blake was right.

  Neil let Blake go and walked away.

  In the light of the next day, once the fog lifted and his headache stopped screaming like a bitch, Neil remembered Blake Harrison and his shipping business. He also remembered Blake saying he thought his personal phone line was bugged but that none of the men he’d hired found a thing.

  Within a couple of hours, Neil had a residential address for Blake Harrison and was on his way to Malibu.

  He hid under a hat, posed as a gardener, and got on the property without even a dog sniffing at his feet. For a man as rich as Blake Harrison, his security was shit. Neil’s own grandmother could walk on the property and jack his phone line in her sleep. And Nana was in her seventies.

  Neil found the tap on the phone, removed it, and waited for Blake to come home.

  Neil cornered Blake before he made it to the front door.

  “What the hell?”

  Neil tossed him the small tap disguised as a line clip.

  Blake scrambled to catch it.

  “That’s your tap.” It was Neil’s way of apologizing for taking a cheap shot the night before. And maybe a thank-you for waking him up. Because while he was locating Blake, sneaking onto the man’s property and taking out a tap, Neil remembered how much he loved to live. And he forgot…if even for a short period, he forgot about dead friends and body parts.

  Blake stared at his hand, turned the clip over a couple of times. “No shit.”

  Neil turned away. Ready to walk from Blake’s life forever.

  “Hey. How’d you get in here, anyway?”

  Neil huffed. “Your security is shit, Harrison.”

  “Want a job?”

  Neil took the job. But not for the money. Neil had money…blood money is what that felt like. Blake invested Neil’s salary into his own company under Neil’s name. “A retirement fund,” Blake had told him.

  But Blake was a fucking ATM. The man turned leaves from a tree into hundred dollar bills.

  And Neil took on the man’s security.

  Working helped heal some of the pain.

  “I remember,” Blake said on the phone. And then he was silent.

  “Then you�
��re going to have to trust me. And you’re going to have to stay there. Keep your family safe.”

  “Gwen is my family.”

  “I know.” But to Neil, she was so much more.

  A hand covered her mouth when she woke. The room was pitch-black.

  Gwen started to struggle, kick, and scream.

  “Gwen! Shhh, it’s Neil,” he said in a hushed whisper.

  She stopped struggling, but stayed on alert.

  “I need you to listen when I let you go. Can you do that?”

  She nodded.

  He released her mouth slowly and spoke quickly.

  “We need to leave the house. We have to go now.” Neil was dressed in dark colors much like a midnight thief.

  “Why?” Gwen matched his tone, keeping her voice low.

  “No time to explain. You need to trust me. Do you trust me, Gwendolyn?”

  His eyes were hard, searching…

  “I trust you.”

  “Good girl.”

  He lifted his weight from the bed and picked up a small gym bag from the floor. “Here.” He shoved some clothes into her arms as she left the bed.

  “Why are we whispering?”

  “The house is tapped.”

  She hesitated. “Tapped?” If her heart beat any faster, it would be a problem.

  “Not now, Gwen. Don’t turn on the lights. Get dressed, hurry.”

  She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on the black pants he’d handed her. “Exercise clothes?”

  “Easier to move in.” He went into the connecting bathroom and rummaged around for less than a minute. She kept her back turned to him as she pulled a spandex bra over her head and followed it with the skintight shirt. She remembered packing the clothes earlier when she left the Tarzana house, thinking that she could use a little yoga to help ease her mind.

  Neil returned, tossed a few things into her bag, and followed them with the nightgown she’d just taken off.

  A hundred questions inundated her mind. Why were they running? Who was after them? Where were they going?

  If someone had penetrated the secure fortress that Neil created for her brother and his family, then the enemy must be formidable.

  She glanced at the clock. It was two thirty in the morning and something told her that life was about to change forever.