Rescue Me
Page 17
“You’re the one who planted the drugs in my safe. How?”
“Safes are a hobby of mine. And you really need to hire better staff. No one even noticed when I slipped down the back hallway through the door they like to leave open.”
Spinning her, Dade wrenched her arms behind her back. “But enough chitchat. I’m going to ask you again. Any more hidden cameras around this place? Any other devices that might implicate me in this mess?”
Craning her head sideways, Tucker ignored the pull on her shoulders and glared at Dade. “You’re the one blackmailing Monique.”
“McAllister wasn’t wrong. You’re a smart one.”
“Why are you doing this?” Although she could probably answer that question for herself, she wanted to hear him say it.
“Money. Believe it or not, I started out brimming with ideals. But it didn’t take long for that to change. I watched hardened criminals, people guilty of the worst crimes, walk free over and over, and there was nothing I could do about it.”
“So you decided to join them? Yeah, great strategy.”
She didn’t see the blow coming. The punch landed just below her ribs and sent her lurching forward. The only thing that kept her from sprawling onto the floor was his hold on her arm.
Her breath wheezed out, but she wasn’t about to stop now. “So, what? You have the power to make their charges disappear, then you blackmail them into working for you and keep all the money for yourself. The more laws they break, the tighter your noose around their necks.”
Dade’s hold on her arms tightened to the point where she couldn’t stay upright. With a whimper, she doubled over to relieve the pressure in her shoulders. “You’re despicable. Worse than anyone you might have caught.”
“It doesn’t matter. I always knew it would end at some point. I’ve got enough money stashed away to live comfortably. For years I managed to lead any investigation into my activities in the other direction. But now, that’s becoming impossible to continue. I needed someone to take the fall.”
“Me.”
He shrugged. Tucker could feel the motion as his chest rose and fell against her back. “I didn’t plan to frame you, but you made it so damn easy. Your fingerprints on those drugs and then withholding your surveillance footage.”
Bastard.
“With everyone busy congratulating themselves on capturing the bad guy, I decided to quietly go out on a win and retire.”
And she’d put a crimp in his plans, thanks to that teddy bear with the hidden camera.
“Finn mentioned you told him there were more cameras when you informed him about the first one. So, tell me where they are.”
“Not a chance.” There was no way in hell she was going to let this asshole get away with this. Not only had he attempted to ruin her life and her business, he’d ruined countless other lives—including Monique’s. He’d taken advantage of people who needed help.
“Don’t test me, Tucker. Do you know I’ve been trained in interrogation tactics? And not just the sanctioned ones.”
Fear skittered down her spine, but she refused to bend or relent.
“You are stubborn, aren’t you?” Using his hold on her, Dade frog-marched her out into the center of the dark, empty bar.
The place was quiet and peaceful, the way she normally liked it best. But not now.
Twisting her around, he didn’t give her time to duck before another punch landed just beneath her jaw, snapping her head backward. A third landed in her exposed belly, knocking the wind right out of her. The next had her sprawling on the floor, the room swimming around her.
“Tell me where they are, Tucker, and this can end right now.”
She tried to scramble away. To use the tables and chairs as barriers, but he didn’t give her the chance. Instead, Dade sent the toe of his heavy boot straight into her ribs. Merciless. Sadistic.
Instinct had her curling up into a ball, protecting her belly and head as best she could. But she couldn’t stay that way indefinitely. There was no way she was making it out of this. No way he would let her survive. She knew too much. The minute she told him what he wanted she was as good as dead.
No, that wasn’t how this was going to end.
Tucker used every last ounce of strength she possessed in a burst that had her surging up from the floor, racing for the front door.
She made it several steps, but no more. His hand tangled in her hair, jerking her backwards. Tears of pain welled in her eyes, but that didn’t stop her from grasping her own hair and jerking in the opposite direction, hoping to break his hold.
It didn’t work. Instead, he used her momentum to swing her around and smash her into a nearby table.
A groan wheezed out of her suddenly useless lungs. Her body collapsed, rolling off the table and slamming into the floor.
Then he started kicking again.
“Such a shame,” he said, watching her feeble attempt to crawl away. The passive, calm expression on his face, even as he delivered another vicious kick, made her skin crawl. “Everyone will be devastated when this place burns to the ground, the owner’s body found charred inside.”
Dade crouched down beside her, picking up a strand of her blond hair and running his fingers down it. “There’s more than one way to make sure no one finds those hidden cameras, Tucker.”
She saw it coming, but couldn’t do anything to stop it. The punch landed right upside her temple. Everything around her went fuzzy and then finally black.
15
GODDAMMIT. FINN STARED at the screen, a sick sensation rolling through his gut.
This wasn’t the first time he’d watched the video. Apparently, he couldn’t stop torturing himself with it.
Staring at the footage in front of him, a man furtively glanced around Tucker’s office before pulling out a set of tools that he used to crack the code on the safe. Then he stuffed it with the drugs and money.
The first time he’d watched, he’d been elated to realize Tucker was as innocent as she’d said. Until he realized that meant he hadn’t believed her when she’d needed him—begged him—to stand beside her.
The second time, he’d just stared at the footage, silently condemning himself.
Now, the fifth time, he was finally paying attention to the little details he’d missed the first few times through. And while it was dark, which made it difficult to identify the person by their facial features, he was picking up on other things.
And, maybe, if he hadn’t spent the last several weeks working with the man he wouldn’t have noticed the tiny curl of ink that flashed over the collar of his shirt, but he had. And he knew the tattoo because he’d asked Dade about it the first time they’d met.
Goddammitalltohell. It actually explained a lot. From the very beginning he’d thought there was an inside man. He’d just assumed inside meant the Rose, not the damn task force.
For a brief second, he thought about calling in Simmons. But considering how close the partners were, he couldn’t discount the idea they were in this together.
He’d been played. The events of the night Tucker had been arrested rolled through his mind. Dade’s subtle suggestion he was missing something, which had prompted him to take Duchess into Tucker’s office in the first place.
She’d been purposely set up—by a man who was supposed to be one of the good guys.
Grabbing his cell, he called Tucker. He had to warn her. Now that the charges against her had been dropped there was no telling what Dade might do. But her cell rang several time before going to voicemail. Was she screening him or asleep? It was late, even for her.
Grabbing his keys, he hollered for Duchess and raced out to his Jeep. He held the door open, and she jumped inside. He’d swing by the Rose first, since it was on the way to her house. He’d decide his next steps on
ce he could pin her down.
The drive to the bar felt like it took forever. The night was quiet, which only made everything worse. His brain spun, replaying over and over again the expression on Tucker’s face as he watched Dade clamp those cuffs around her wrists.
The devastation. The betrayal. The complete and utter defeat. She’d placed her trust in him, something he knew was difficult for her. No, he’d forced her to place her trust in him. He’d given her no choice in the matter, smashing through every roadblock she’d placed in his path because he’d wanted her and that was all that mattered at the time.
But that wasn’t the case anymore.
Her pain had hurt him—then and now. Even when he’d thought she was guilty—a drug dealer—he’d cared about her. He’d wanted to save her, even if he needed to save her from herself.
Shit, he’d screwed up royally. Forcing her to trust him but not giving her the same in return. Not believing her when she’d said she was innocent, anger and brimstone firing from those deep blue eyes.
He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the smoke curling up from the building until he careened into the empty parking lot. And then all he could think was that Tucker just couldn’t catch a damn break.
Her car wasn’t in the front lot, but it wouldn’t be if she was home. Phone already to his ear, 911 on the line to report the fire, Finn barreled around the building to the back.
And his heart sank into his shoes when he saw her car parked right beside the back door.
God, Tucker was inside.
Not even bothering to turn off the Jeep, Finn burst out, letting the door swing wide. He raced for the back entrance only to find it locked.
Of course it was. The security lock engaged from the inside.
The urge to pound helplessly on the door was overwhelming, but that wouldn’t accomplish anything. Tucker needed him, so he needed to keep a calm head. He’d never forgive himself if she died inside while he stood by helplessly, unable to do anything.
The sensation, so like what he’d felt staring down at his sister’s lifeless body, nearly sent him to his knees.
Racing back to the Jeep, Finn riffled around the toolbox he kept behind the back seat until he found the small hatchet.
He attacked the door, never so thankful that Tucker had that authentic heavy wooden door, even in the back. It took several swings, but eventually the thing splintered. Reaching into the gap, Finn pulled the door from the hinges, letting it clatter to the ground.
Heat and smoke rolled out, nearly choking him and sending him straight to his knees, gasping for clean air.
Beside him, Duchess whined. She nosed against him, barked and then stared inside the dark building. How the hell was he going to find her in this huge place?
Duchess whined again and took a tentative step forward, looking back at him for instructions.
Holding her head in his hands, Finn looked straight into Duchess’ deep brown eyes and said, “Find her, girl. Please. I need you to lead me to her.”
* * *
TUCKER COUGHED. HER EYES popped open only to realize she still couldn’t see.
Her entire body ached and her eyes burned. Smoke, thick and dirty gray, swirled around her, stealing her breath.
Fire. The Rose was on fire.
Palms to the floor, Tucker pushed up onto her knees, biting back a whimper of pain. Everything hurt, but that didn’t matter right now. She needed to find a way out.
Was she still in the middle of the bar? Which way had she fallen? Which way was the door?
Panic paralyzed her for several seconds. She was so afraid of making the wrong move and finding herself in even more trouble.
But inaction meant dying in the middle of her bar, and Tucker was damned determined that wasn’t going to happen. If she died here, Dade won and would get away with everything he’d done.
Twisting around, she tried to figure out which direction felt hottest. Her plan was to go the opposite way, figuring away from the flames was the best choice. If she could run into a wall or the bar she could orient herself and find her way out.
Every joint in her body throbbed, but she continued to crawl forward, yelping each time she ran into a table or chair along the way.
How long had she been unconscious? There was no way to know. Long enough for the bar to fill up with smoke. She needed to get out so she could call for help, although her cell was still in the drawer behind the bar.
Her body heaved on a racking cough. Her lungs burned and her ribs ached. It felt like she was dragging air three inches thick through the smallest spaces of her body as she breathed. And the heat. It was everywhere. Her clothes felt like they were melting onto her skin.
But she didn’t have time to stop. Any inch forward was better than certain death.
Her head started swimming again, the room going wonky. The floor felt like it was tilting beneath her.
No. She couldn’t black out again. Not if she wanted to live, and she did. Her life might be completely screwed up right now, but it was hers and she wanted it.
Wanted Finn.
Shit. Wanted his annoying antics and his arrogant attitude. The sweetness he kept to himself more often than he should. The brilliant way he observed the world, seeing it just the way it was. She wanted his strength and his ability to make her feel strong even as he managed to care for her—especially when she made it difficult.
She wanted his love. She wanted his trust.
She wanted something she could never have.
Tucker had no idea if the tears tracking down her face were from the smoke or the overwhelming grief sweeping through her. It didn’t matter. The emotions were enough to push her when every muscle in her body was screaming that she’d had enough.
But even then, she was afraid she wasn’t going to make it. The smoke was getting thicker and she still had no idea where she was—or how close the exit might be.
Her body felt like it weighed three tons, each limb getting heavier and heavier when she’d pick it up to crawl forward.
Nope, she wasn’t willing to give up. If she died tonight, she was going to do it fighting.
Suddenly, a sound echoed through the darkness. Startling because it was out of place among the crackle and hiss of the fire.
The clank of metal tags and the scrabble of nails across the wooden floor.
“Duchess?” Tucker croaked, the sound practically nonexistent. She was almost too afraid to hope. Maybe she was hallucinating. Her brain conjuring up the one sound she associated with Finn because wherever he went Duchess was never far behind.
The swirl of smoke in front of her cleared and the most amazing sight greeted her. Not a mirage. Duchess charged forward, letting out several loud barks.
Tucker collapsed, her body simply giving out and the tears started streaming faster.
Wrapping her arms around Duchess’s neck, Tucker buried her face in the soft fur. “I’ve never been so happy to see you in my life,” she whispered.
“Tucker?” Finn’s voice echoed through the bar.
“Here. We’re here,” she screamed, or what was meant to be a scream, but was more like a raspy whimper. Beside her, Duchess barked again, loud and long.
Finn charged out of the smoke, a warrior hell-bent on conquering something, even if it was just a few flames.
“Good girl,” he said, patting Duchess on the head even as he leaned down and scooped Tucker up into his arms.
A wet T-shirt fell against her belly. “Put that over your mouth and nose.”
Looking down at the dog sitting beside them, he said, “Get us out of here,” and then followed close behind as Duchess moved through the bar.
It felt like forever, but it was probably no more than a minute before they broke through the back door into blessed, clean air.
Tucker pulled in a huge gulp of it, nearly passing out again when her lungs couldn’t take it and she started hacking and wheezing.
Finn didn’t stop until they were on the far side of the back parking lot. Gently setting her onto the grass, he leaned back and took stock of her.
God, she had to look a mess. Bloody, bruised, soot covered and filthy. But thanks to him and Duchess, alive.
“Thank you,” she managed between fits of coughing. “Dade. He’s the one who’s been selling drugs. Set the bar on fire. I can’t prove it.”
Not without the cameras that were no doubt already melted and useless.
“I know, but don’t worry about that right now. Just lie still. Paramedics and fire are on their way.”
“You know?”
Finn nodded. “That was the reason I came looking for you. But even if I didn’t already know, I’d believe you. I promise I’ll never doubt you again.”
In the distance, Tucker caught the first hint of sirens.
Giving in to the exhaustion overwhelming her, she collapsed backward, her eyes squeezing shut.
There was nothing left for her to do but wait and see how bad the damage was when the smoke cleared.
* * *
JESUS, HE WANTED to bombard her with questions. Why did she look like she’d gone ten rounds with a heavyweight champion and lost? Was there any way on this earth she’d ever forgive him? Ever place her trust in him again?
But now wasn’t the time for any of that.
His hands were shaking, something he hadn’t realized until he leaned forward to brush some hair away from Tucker’s temple.
God, he could have lost her tonight. That realization would have sent him to his knees if he wasn’t already there, beside her on the grass.
He watched her whole body convulse with another round of coughing, and he grumbled unkind words beneath his breath. The paramedics needed to get here three minutes ago.
The helpless sensation was driving him crazy.