Hostage At Crystal Manor

by Heather Graham

  “No, but you could—”

  “Injure a man like that, and you might as well shoot yourself,” he told her. “And, never mind. I have my reasons for doing what I’m doing. There’s no other choice.”

  “There’s always a choice,” Kody said.

  “No,” he told her flatly, “there’s not. So, if you want to keep breathing and keep all your friends alive, as well—”

  Dillinger came striding in. “So, Miss Cameron. Where is my treasure?”

  “Dammit! Listen to me and believe me! It’s not here, not in the house, not on the island,” she told him. She realized that while she was speaking fairly calmly, she was shivering, shaking from head to toe.

  It was Dillinger and Barrow in the room then.

  If Dillinger attacked her, what would Barrow do? Risk himself to defend her?

  There certainly was no treasure at the house—other than the house itself—to give Dillinger. She’d told him the truth.

  “So, where is it?” he demanded.

  Thankfully he didn’t seem to be surprised that it wasn’t in the Crystal Manor.

  “I have no guarantees for you,” she said. “But I do have a working theory. This letter,” she said, pausing to tap the historic, framed note that had been hand-penned by Anthony Green, “refers to the ‘lovely hammock beneath the sun.’ It was written to Lila Bay, Green’s favorite mistress. In summary, Green tells her that when he’s about on business and she’s missing him, she should rest awhile in the hammock, and find there the diamond-like luster of the sun and the emerald green of the landscape.”

  “What’s that on the corner?” Dillinger demanded suspiciously.

  “It’s the name of a long-ago chief or leader who was killed there. I think it was a further reference for Green when he was trying to see to it that Lila found the stash from the bank,” Kody said.

  Dillinger stood back, balancing the rifle he carried as he crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her.

  “So, my treasure is in an alligator-laden swamp—along with rattlers, coral snakes, cottonmouths and whatever else! And we’re just supposed to go out to the swamp and start digging in the saw grass and the muck?” Dillinger said.

  “I’m still reading his personal references,” Kody said. “But, yes. I can’t put this treasure where it isn’t. I’m afraid I’d falter and you’d know me for a liar in an instant.”

  “And you think you can find this treasure in acres of swamp land?” he asked.

  Everything in Kody seemed to recoil. She shook her head. “I’m not going into the swamp. I don’t care about the treasure or the stash. You do. I mean, I can keep reading and give you directions, all kinds of suggestions, but I—”

  “Come on, Dillinger,” Barrow said. “She’d be a pain in the ass out in the swamp!”

  Dillinger turned to stare at Barrow. “She’s going with us, one way or the other.”

  “What?” Barrow asked.

  “Did you think I’m crazy? No way in hell we’re leaving here without a hostage. We’ll take Miss Cameron here for sure. I can’t wait to see her dig in the muck and the old gator holes until she finds the diamonds and the emeralds! Come on, Barrow, you can’t be that naive. They’re not going to just give us speedboats. They’re going to have the Coast Guard out. They’re going to be following us. Now, I’m not without friends, and I’m pretty damned good at losing people who are chasing me, but…hey, you need to have a living hostage.” He turned to Kody. “And, of course, Miss Cameron, if you’re going to send us on a wild-goose chase, you have to understand just how it will end for you.”

  The house line began to ring again.

  Dillinger looked at Barrow. “Get it! See if they have my boats for me now. You!” He pointed a finger at Kody. “You figure it out—or you will be the one in the snake and gator waters!”

  Kody looked down quickly at the journal she was reading. She prayed he couldn’t see just how badly she was shaking.

  She knew local lore. She’d walked the trails at Shark Valley. She’d driven out from the city a few times just to buy pumpkin bread at the restaurant across from the park.

  But she’d never camped in the Everglades. She’d never even gotten out of her car on the trail once it had grown dark.

  Tramping out in alligator-and snake-infested swamps? No way.

  “Get the line,” Dillinger told Barrow again when the phone continued to ring.

  Barrow answered.

  “Where are the boats? We’re doing our best to make sure that this works but you need to start moving on your end. And, be warned—no cops, no Coast Guard, no nothing coming after us!” he said.

  He looked over at Dillinger. “He’s getting us a pair of Donzi racers.”

  “That will do,” Dillinger said. “As long as he starts getting it done. As long as he backs off some.”

  “You keep your men in check—I mean stay back,” Barrow said to the person on the other end of the line.

  Barrow covered the phone with his hand. “He swears they won’t fire unless they’re fired on. You’ve made that clear to the others, Dillinger, right? I don’t want one of those trigger-happy psychos getting me killed.”

  “Hey, we fire on them, they fire back,” Dillinger said with a shrug. “Like the saying goes, no one lives forever. If they shoot, they take a chance on killing a hostage!”

  Barrow politely relayed Dillinger’s threat. Then he walked out of the room, leaving Kody alone with Dillinger.

  She kept telling herself that Craig was out there. He was playing a careful game, all that any man could do when hostages were involved.

  Did Craig know she was in there? Of course, she knew him, she’d had meals with him and Kieran and the Finnegan family, and they’d talked about her home in Miami and the estate on Crystal Island with all its mob ties…

  She blinked, determined that she not give anything away.

  Dillinger just looked at her and tapped his fingers on the desk. “We need you, Miss Cameron. Isn’t that nice? As long as you’re needed, you know that you’ll live. Remember that.”

  Then Dillinger, too, walked out of the room.

  Kody looked around, wondering what was near her that might possibly be used as a weapon.

  Nothing.

  Nothing in the room stood up to a gun.

  * * *

  NICK STOOD WITH Dillinger in the ballroom—the large stretch on the left side of the house that connected two of the towers. Crown moldings and silk wallpaper made the room a work of real, old-artisan beauty, but, at the moment, it felt empty and their soft-spoken conversation seemed to echo loudly with the acoustics of the room.

  “You played us all,” he told Dillinger. “You made us all think that coming here was the job—that there was something here we’d be taking. In and out. Quick and easy. Round up people as a safety net and then get the hell out.”

  “I said the house was the key to great riches!” Dillinger said. “And this is an easy gig. We have some scared people. We have the cops keeping their distance at the gate. The guard is going to be okay. At worst, he’ll have some stitches and a concussion. So, Barrow, don’t be a pansy. You know what? I’m not so fond of the killing part myself. But, hell, when a job needs to be done…” He let Nick complete the thought himself.

  Instead, Nick went on the offensive. “If Miss Cameron is right, we’ve got to go south from here and then west into the Everglades. Donzi speedboats aren’t going to take us in to where we need to be. I don’t think you planned this out.”

  “You don’t think?” Dillinger said, tapping Nick on the forehead. “You don’t think? Well, my friend, you’re wrong. I know where Donzis won’t take us—and I know where airboats will take us! I’ve done lots of thinking.”

  “This isn’t an in and out!” Nick snapped.

>   “No. But the reward will be worth the effort.”

  So, Dillinger had known all along that what he’d wanted wouldn’t be found on the property. And he had other plans in the works already. Who else was in on it? Any of the men? None of them? Was Dillinger so uptight and paranoid that he hadn’t trusted a single person in their group?

  Nick was pretty sure he was doing a decent job of maintaining his cover while giving his real coworkers as much information as possible. Craig and their local FBI counterparts and law enforcement knew how many men were in the house—and how many hostages remained. He hadn’t been able to risk a call to Craig—other than those he made as Barrow. While the agent didn’t know the who, how or where, he now knew Dillinger had expected he’d have to leave the house to find his treasure. Would he assume that he’d be heading out to the Everglades, given the legends?

  Dillinger had to have people lined up and waiting to help him. As he’d said, to get where they wanted to go, a Donzi would be just about worthless. They’d need an airboat.

  Dillinger had no doubt been playing this game for the long run from the get-go.

  It was still crazy. There was no real treasure they were taking from the house. There was just information—a major league maybe on where treasure might be found.

  Dillinger was, in Nick’s mind, extremely dangerous. He was crazy enough to have taken a house—a historic property—for what might possibly have been found in it.

  And while none of them had even so much as suspected Dillinger would go off and do something like kidnap a child, he had done so—and been smug when he’d let them all know that he had the child for extra leverage.

  The kid changed everything. Everything.

  Nick couldn’t wait for that moment when Dillinger was off guard and the others were in different places and he could take him down and then wait for the others. He couldn’t risk losing Dillinger—not until he knew where the man was holding the little boy.

  First thing now, though, Nick knew, was to get them all out of the house—alive.

  Then he’d just have to keep Dakota Cameron—and himself—alive until Dillinger somehow slipped and told them where to find little Adrian Burke. Then he’d have to get himself and Kody away from Dillinger and whoever the hell else he had in on it and—

  Baby steps, he warned himself.

  “Here’s the thing—we haven’t done anything yet, not really,” he told Dillinger. “Okay, assault—that’s what they can get us on. They don’t understand what we’re doing, why in God’s name we’ve taken this place, why we’ve taken hostages…and they really don’t have anything. What you really want—what we all want—is the Anthony Green bank-job treasure. They just promised that they’re getting the boats—that they’ll be here right away. The young woman whose family owns this place is still reading records and I do think she’s gotten something in two hours that no one else thought of in decades. Not that it doesn’t mean we’ll be digging in the muck forever but… I really suggest that you let more hostages go,” Nick said.

  “I don’t know,” Dillinger said. “Yeah, maybe…maybe we should get rid of that one woman—the one with the mouth on her. She might be stupid enough to attempt something.”

  “Good idea. Here’s the thing—the hostages are weakening us. We have the hostages in the front and the front towers covered, and you’ve proven you have sharpshooters up there who will pick off men and happily join in a gunfight. But, with everyone moving around and everything going on, we are missing a man for sound protection in back. I’m afraid they’ll eventually figure that out. Let go a few more hostages, and we’ll be in a better position to control the ones we do keep.”

  Dillinger seemed to weigh his words.

  Then they heard shots—individual rat-a-tats and then a spray of gunfire.

  Dillinger swore, staring at Nick. “What the hell? What the bloody hell?”

  “I guarantee you, the cops and the Feds were clean on that,” Nick snapped. “One of your boys just went crazy with a pistol and an automatic.”

  He raced down the length of the room to the stairs to the tower. He was certain the first shots had come from that direction.

  Another round of gunfire sounded. Nick ran on up the stairs.

  Schultz was there, spraying rounds everywhere.

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” Nick shouted.

  The man was wielding a semiautomatic. He had to take great care.

  Schultz gave him a wild-eyed look before he turned back to the window. Nick made a flying leap at him, hitting him in his midsection, bringing him down.

  The semiautomatic went flying across the floor.

  Nick rose, ready to yell at Schultz. But the man was staring up at him with swiftly glazing eyes. He was dead. A crack police marksman had evidently returned the spray of bullets with true accuracy.

  “Hey, Barrow! Schultz!” Dillinger shouted from below.

  Nick inhaled. He stood and went to the stairs.

  “You brought in an idiot on this, Dillinger!” he called down. “They’ve taken down Schultz. The idiot just went crazy and the police returned his fire. A sharpshooter got him. We need to play for a little time while those boats get here. We need to let more of the hostages go—now. If they figure out just how weak we are in numbers, they might storm the house.”

  “They do, and everybody dies!” Dillinger swore.

  “Don’t think with your ass, Dillinger. We can pull this off if no one else acts like we’re in the wild, wild, West! I want to live. I didn’t come in on a frigging suicide mission! We came here for something. We need to keep calm and figure out the best way to get it. Let me offer up more hostages.”

  “The girl almost has it. We can grab up whatever journals and all she’s using and take the boats. I want them now!”

  “The boats are coming. Let me free a hostage!” Nick pleaded.

  Dillinger was quiet for a minute. “Yeah, fine. Just one.”

  “Two would be better. There’s a young couple down there—”

  “No, only one of them. And tell the cops if another one of our number dies, they’ll have all dead hostages. One way or the other!” Dillinger snapped. “Schultz is dead,” he reminded Nick. “We should retaliate. Kill someone—not let them go.”

  Nick hurried along the hall back to the library, Dillinger close at his heels.

  The phone was already ringing when they reached the room.

  Dakota Cameron remained behind the library desk.

  Her face was white, but rather than afraid she looked uneasy. Guilty of something.

  For the moment Nick ignored her. He picked up the phone. Once again Craig was on the other end and they were going to play their parts.

  “What happened?” Craig asked.

  “Your people got a little carried away with fire,” Nick said. “We now have a dead man. We should kill a hostage.”

  “No. The boats are coming. And your man started the firing. He was trying to kill people out here. Our people had to fire back.”

  “Do it again, the hostages die.”

  “We don’t want to fire.”

  “Yeah, well, we have anxious people up here carrying semiautomatic weapons. But just to prove that we can keep our side of a bargain, we’re going to give you another hostage. Then we want the boats.”

  “Yes, all right. That can be done.”

  “We’ll have someone for you, so watch the gate. No tricks or someone will die.”

  “No tricks,” Craig said.

  Nick hung up. Dillinger was looking at him.

  “Okay, we give them a hostage,” Nick said. “Or two.”

  “Two? I said—”

  “Two. We’ll give them the sassy girl—Betsy, I think her name is—and then a guest. All right?”

  “F
ine. Do it,” Dillinger said.

  “You want me out there?” Nick asked.

  “Yes, you, Mr. Diplomacy. Get out there.”

  Nick was surprised. “You’re leaving her alone upstairs?” he asked.

  “No.” Dillinger looked over at Kody, smiled and headed over to her. “I’ll be close. But just to be careful…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out police-issue plastic cuffs.

  “Miss Cameron, one wrist will do. We just need to see that you don’t leave the desk. I can attach you right here, to the very pretty little whirligig in the wood,” Dillinger said.

  Nick was relieved to see that Kody offered him her left wrist and just watched and waited in silence as he secured it to the desk. She didn’t protest; she didn’t cause trouble. She was probably just glad they were letting another hostage free.

  But Nick didn’t trust her. She was a fighter.

  “Miss Cameron, you have all the clues, clues that are like a road map, right? You know what we need to do?” Dillinger asked her.

  “I have an area. I have an idea,” Kody said.

  “Don’t lie to me,” Dillinger said.

  She shook her head. “I told you—no guarantees. This treasure has been missing for decades. I believe I know where you can dig, but whether it’s still there or not, I don’t know. Even the earth shifts with time.”

  “I knew you could find it, my dear Miss Cameron!”

  “Me? How did you even know I’d be here? I don’t even live here anymore. I live in New York,” Kody said.

  “Oh, Miss Cameron. Of course, I checked out my information about the stash, the house—and you. It was possible but I doubted that the treasure would be in the house. I knew that you were here. I knew how much you loved this old house…and, yeah, I knew you’d be leaving soon. So it was time to act.” He shrugged, as if he was done explaining. “Now let me get rid of your big-mouthed friend. You help me, I help you. That’s the way it works.”

  Dillinger turned and looked at Nick.

  Nick gritted down hard on his teeth.

  Yeah, they’d all been taken on this one. Dillinger had known damned well that he hadn’t gotten them all to take the house for the treasure.