“I’m sorry. For her. And for you. But that doesn’t excuse what you’ve done. What you plan to do.” She gentled her voice. “There are other ways to help her. Ways that don’t involve murder.”
“What would you know about it? You ever loved someone who’s an addict?”
Scout sympathized with his situation, but something in his tone rang false. He was lying to her even now. She looked for any glimpse of the man she’d known for five years and saw only a stranger. Even if the paper failed, he had money and power aplenty, but it wasn’t enough.
Though Scout went silent, her mind was churning. Appealing to her onetime friendship with Daniels hadn’t worked, but that didn’t mean she was beaten. She’d survived witnessing the murder of her parents. She’d survive this as well.
“You really think she’s going to split it with you. Newtown is used to calling the shots.”
“Patrice is so wrapped up in her own ego that she won’t even notice she’s been moved out. By the time she realizes she’s been cut out of the deal, it’ll be too late.”
“You sure about that?” Newtown didn’t seem like the kind of woman to be cut out of anything. She liked to call the shots.
“For all her talk about empire-building, she’s still a woman. That means she’s weak. And foolish.”
“I wouldn’t sell Newtown short. What makes you think she’ll keep you around once this is all done? You’re an errand boy, nothing more. Like Crane.” She let that sink in. “To think I looked up to you. I was a fool.”
“You got that right.”
Scout kept her head high. No way would she allow Daniels to see that she was terrified. “I’m sorry for you,” she said, meaning it.
“You’re the one who’s tied up and waiting to die.”
“I’m the one who believes in something more than myself. You’ll never have that. No matter how rich you are, how much richer you’ll get, you’ll never know the joy that comes from believing in something bigger than yourself and from acting out of integrity instead of greed.”
“Oh, I believe in something bigger than myself all right, like controlling the biggest gunrunning operation this side of the Mississippi.” Daniels’s left eye twitched, a tell he had often bemoaned. “And if you don’t shut up right now, I’ll tape your mouth shut. See how that’ll feel.”
“What happened?” she asked softly. “When did you lose yourself?”
And then the answer walked in.
Patrice Newtown, bandbox fresh, waved a hand in dismissal of the question. “Around the same time that he discovered the joy of having more money than he ever dreamed of.”
“Looks like you took the old saying of ‘charity begins at home’ to heart, Duchess,” Scout said.
Newtown laughed in what Scout supposed to be delight. “Gerald told me that you were quick. He was right.” She let her gaze wander from Daniels to Scout and back to Daniels. “Did he tell you that tired story about needing help for Christine?” She didn’t give Scout time to answer. “Christine left him as soon as she got clean. She couldn’t wait to get away from him. She was repulsed by what he’d become.”
Scout nodded in confirmation of her earlier suspicions that Daniels had been lying to her regarding his wife.
“Patrice...” Daniels began.
Newtown cut him off. “Go back to whatever you were doing. Ms. McAdams and I have some talking to do.”
Daniels left but not without one last look at Scout. She thought she saw a hint of apology in his eyes, but it was immediately extinguished.
Newtown pressed a button at the side of the desk and within seconds, a man appeared. She gave one short nod.
Less than a minute later, Scout heard a muffled shot followed by a thud. “You had him killed. Just like that.”
“Dear old Gerald was falling apart. He barely kept it together when we had to kill Crane. He was weak. Like most men.” Newtown directed a bored look at Scout. “You could have saved yourself and the rest of us a lot of trouble if you’d left it alone.”
Scout ignored Newtown’s taunt in favor of recalling one of her favorite scriptures and letting it echo in her mind. Have I not commanded thee? Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.
She tried to bolster her courage, but it was definitely sagging. Lord, I’m tied up and waiting for a couple of killers to come for me. What am I supposed to do now?
Newtown thought she was in charge. She didn’t know Nicco and what he could do. More important, she didn’t know what the Lord could do.
Right now, Scout was pinning her hopes on both of them.
NINETEEN
Nicco racked the slide of the Glock, clearing the chamber and checking the function before slipping in a new magazine. Going into battle, a soldier always made certain his weapon was ready for the fight.
He didn’t try to fool himself. He was going into battle.
The HK UMP was a powerhouse of a weapon, right up there with the AK-47. He was as at home with the deadly tools as other men were with a hammer. Right now, he wished he had one—or both—at his disposal. His Glock was fine, but it didn’t have the firepower to it that the larger weapons did.
Scout hadn’t called him at the agreed-upon time. He could only surmise that she was in trouble.
Don’t sell me short. Her words echoed in his mind, both a warning and a comfort. Her small stature notwithstanding, she was a powerhouse and she’d fight with everything she had.
“Lord, I need Your help. Scout is in trouble. I need to find her and bring her home.” He paused. “Amen.” The quiet words rested softly in his heart.
It was ironic, him praying to the Lord he’d determined wanted nothing to do with him. The two of them hadn’t been on speaking terms in years. As Scout had pointed out, the Lord hadn’t stopped believing in Nicco; Nicco had stopped believing in Him.
Nicco hadn’t done anything to earn the Lord’s love or His trust. He’d turned away from Him out of anger and grief. Just as that self-condemnation scourged him, Scout’s words sounded in his mind. You don’t earn the Lord’s love. It’s a gift, freely given out of the infinite love He has for each of us.
Could she be right? Could the Lord love a sinner such as himself? Nicco wanted desperately to believe it. Why should the Lord believe in someone who had abandoned Him as Nicco had?
Do You believe in me? The words were torn from his heart. Nicco waited, but no answer was forthcoming.
And then it happened: a quiet peace stole over him, and he realized he had his answer after all.
For the first time in years, he felt the Lord’s presence. It was as though God had wrapped him in a glow of warmth and strength from the inside out.
Lord, I believe in You, and right now, I could really use Your help. Scout needs us both.
* * *
Newtown raked Scout with a contemptuous glance. “You’ll never be anything more than a second-rate reporter. This grand story you’ve been working on—it will die before it even gets off the ground.”
“You mean the story about you, Daniels and Crane being involved in gunrunning?”
Newtown looked nonplussed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know enough to make you nervous. That’s why you wanted me out of the way. You were afraid I was getting too close.” Scout couldn’t hide her revulsion. “The weapons you stored for your friends in the militia? Do you have any idea what they’ll do to the city? The country?”
“People will die. People who are too stupid to make something of themselves. A cleansing of sorts.” The supreme lack of concern in Newtown’s voice was as offensive as the indifferent words.
“One question. Why did you have me assigned to cover your events?” Scout thought she knew the answer but she wanted it confirmed. “Let me
guess. ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’”
Newtown looked pleased. “I knew you were bright. Gerald and I figured what better way to keep tabs on what you were doing than to have you under our thumbs.”
“You thought of everything. Except that Crane figured out he was expendable. That’s why he called me at the last minute.”
“Right again.”
“So you had him killed. And then it was business as usual. Mustn’t let a little thing like murder get in the way.”
“Crane had his uses,” Patrice said. “When he’d outlived them, he was disposed of. Just like you will be.”
Scout refused to flinch. She had no doubt that Newtown would do exactly as she promised. Though Scout was bound to the chair, she wasn’t helpless and spit her disgust at her captor.
Newton gasped as she wiped Scout’s spittle from her cheek. “I should have expected something so vulgar from the likes of you.”
The blow came without warning, so vicious that it whipped Scout’s head back.
She tasted blood as her teeth clamped down on her tongue. Involuntary tears sprang to her eyes. Darkness spun around her.
Newtown rubbed her hands together as though brushing away something particularly loathsome.
Scout watched as the outward layers stripped away, revealing the ugliness inside. Gone were the genteel manners and lady-like demeanor. In their place was a hard, grasping woman who would stop at nothing, including murder, to achieve her ends.
“People are disposable to you, aren’t they?” Scout challenged.
“Of course.” Newtown lifted one slender shoulder in an elegant little shrug. “Murder has been with us since Caine killed Abel. It’s a necessary part of life. It always will be. I took care of Crane and Daniels just as I took care of Edmund.”
At Scout’s gasp, Newton smiled. “Didn’t know that, did you? My dear husband had run the Newtown fortune into the ground. If I hadn’t mixed a dose of digitalis with his heart medicine, he’d still be spending money on his charity like it was water, wasting it on a bunch of people who weren’t fit to breathe the same air I do.”
“You killed your husband?” Scout worked to take it in. Newtown’s revelation stunned her.
“Of course. He was already under a doctor’s care for a heart condition. When his heart gave out, thanks to a little help from me, there was no reason to think he hadn’t died of natural causes. No autopsy. Of course, I played the part of the devoted widow to perfection. I must say I looked spectacular in mourning black. You’re shocked, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be. Edmund was giving away our fortune faster than the accountants could keep up with his stupidity. And now Daniels wanted to edge me out.”
Each was as much a victim of the woman’s greed as Scout would be if she didn’t find a way out of this.
“They deserved to die,” Newtown finished.
Scout listened to the woman’s rationalization of cold-blooded murder. Despair threatened to take a chokehold as she realized that Newtown would dispose of her with the same callous disregard for life. She fought against it. She couldn’t afford to give way to it, not if she wanted to survive.“You’re making a big mistake.”
Newtown had started to walk away but now stopped, turned back to Scout. “What mistake?”
“If you kill me, Nicco will come after you like fury,” Scout said with cold certainty. “There’s no place you can hide, no place that you can run where he won’t find you and bring you down.” She had no doubt of that.
“I’m counting on it.”
Scout stopped breathing. “What do you mean?”
“Did you think I didn’t know he’s here? Gerald’s security system has been recording him since you dropped him off at the back of the estate.” A satisfied smirk twisted Newtown’s mouth. “Your boyfriend will come for you, and he’ll discover a nice little surprise I’ll have waiting for him.”
Fear crawled up Scout’s throat. “Please...you have me. Isn’t that enough?”
“No, it isn’t. I don’t let people who have crossed me go unpunished. And you and the Ranger have caused me plenty of trouble. You could have dropped the investigation at any time, but you didn’t.”
“So you’re going to kill Nicco out of spite, is that it?”
“I would never be so childish. I’m going to kill him because I can.”
Scout’s stomach crumpled in on itself, and she bit down on her rising despair. Giving in to it wouldn’t help Nicco. She went quiet. Dear Lord, I know that You are in charge. Please protect Nicco. He doesn’t deserve to die because of me.
She looked up to find Newtown staring at her. “Praying?” Her features contorted in contempt.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“You’re right.”
Newton looked down her patrician nose at Scout. “It looks like we’ve come to the final act.”
TWENTY
Newtown pushed a button on the desk once again, summoning the same two heavily armed men.
Newtown flicked a glance at Scout. “You know what to do with her.”
“You want us to kill another one,” the larger of the men said, “that’ll cost extra.”
“Are you hard of hearing?” The pleasant tone contrasted with the hard gleam in Newtown’s eyes. “If so, I can find someone whose hearing is better and who knows how to obey orders.”
The man shrank under the lash of her words. “No need for that. No need at all.”
“I didn’t think so.” She spared one last look at Scout. “You’ll have to excuse me. I have a party to get ready for. Too bad you won’t be there to cover it. I’ll look stunning, of course. I’m wearing Versace.” With that, Newtown took herself off.
The two men strapped a vest fitted with explosives to Scout. So this was the surprise Newtown had referred to.
Scout did her best to squash the panic that bubbled up inside of her, temporarily turning her brain to mush. Don’t give in to it. You’re smarter than that. The pep talk could only take her so far, though. She had to think and think fast.
“Why are you doing this? Newtown can’t be paying you enough to commit murder.”
“Ain’t like I haven’t done worse,” he said conversationally. His accent placed him in the backwater region of the state that had remained largely unchanged for the last hundred or so years.
He was clearly hired muscle. She wouldn’t get anywhere trying to talk with him, so she clamped her lips shut and started plotting how she could free herself. Her options were slim, and the possibilities of getting out of here looked bleak at best.
She didn’t doubt that Nicco was coming for her, but that could mean his death. For the first time since the ordeal began, she prayed that he wouldn’t find her in time.
She’d never thought to care deeply for a man again, but love had found a way. What she’d felt for Bradley paled in comparison to what she felt for Nicco. Now it may well be too late.
She squared her shoulders as much as she was able and reminded herself that she was used to going it alone. That wasn’t right. She’d never been alone.
The Lord had always been at her side. He wouldn’t desert her now. She wouldn’t betray her faith in Him by giving way to fear.
“Lord, I’m in trouble. I need Your care. And please watch over Nicco.” She closed her prayer with a simple “Amen.”
Though she was still bound to the chair and the death vest remained strapped to her, Scout felt a sense of calm overtake her and knew that the Lord was already doing His part.
* * *
Nicco looked at his hands. The sweat had dried on them, and he was once more the Ranger he had been for so many years. Training kicked in and wiped out all emotion. Normal men would experience an adrenaline rush now. Nicco was not normal. His pulse slowed to measured beats; his lungs drew in air in measured breaths.
Thank You, Lord.
He stopped, listened. And heard nothing. Where were the thugs who were undoubtedly in place and ordered to stop him?
He came to a brick-lined patio. There, dumped like so much garbage to be cleaned up by others, was Gerald Daniels, a bullet in his back.
French doors were left open, no doubt in invitation. He approached cautiously, stepped inside. And saw Scout, hands and feet taped to the arms and legs of a chair, a vest rigged with explosives strapped to her upper body. His lips thinned at the dried blood that had formed at the corner of her mouth.
He inhaled deeply. Paralysis was threatening to take a stranglehold on his mind, his body.
His hands clenched, unclenched as he forced out the terror and concentrated on what needed to be done. He’d trained himself to recognize fear and then to use it. He’d come through plenty of hairy times, but he’d never been as terrified as he was at this moment.
Lord, I need You. The prayer never made it to his lips but settled in his heart. Stronger now, he gave Scout a confident smile.
Fear darkened Scout’s eyes, but her words were calm. “The explosives on the vest are connected to the chair. If you try to free me, it’ll go off and kill us both.”
He’d been afraid of that. “No problem.”
Her eyes told him that he hadn’t fooled her. Not for a second. He didn’t blame her. There was the very real possibility that he couldn’t save her. The likelihood of that grew greater with every second as his gaze landed on the timer.
The vest held numerous different-colored wires. It was a common ploy of bomb-makers, an attempt to confuse anyone who tried to disarm it. Nicco wasn’t intimidated by that, but the timer was a different matter. Fortunately, it hadn’t yet started.
He’d seen similar things during his time with the Rangers. Whoever had done this was an expert, another sign that ex-military personnel were involved.
Nicco set about sorting the wires. After identifying which were which, he cut them systematically until the timer clicked on.
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