“Screw you.”
“Been there, done that.” The woman was cool as a cucumber. “Lost your nerve, Martin?”
“We were only laundering money. There wasn’t supposed to be any violence. You had Bately murdered when he decided to stop paying blackmail.”
Sean stood for a second to let his eyes adjust to the dark hallway. He didn’t dare miss a word in order to speak to Saint, so he keyed the mic instead. Saint gave an answering click to acknowledge.
“You were setting up a side venture, may I remind you? Cutting me out. That isn’t going to happen, Martin.”
“What are you going to do, kill me next?”
“Don’t tempt me.” Hard as diamonds. “Jorge will want to weigh in on your fate when he gets here, I’m sure.”
Lima was coming here? Capturing him would be a bonus, but Sean couldn’t risk Annabelle’s safety to wait an unknown amount of time to grab the higher-up.
“Let Annabelle go. She’s no part of this.”
The woman’s laughter was like nails on a blackboard.
Say something that verifies Annabelle’s location, goddammit, Lowe.
“Ah, yes, Joe. What’s in Mr. Lowe’s car?”
Sean couldn’t hear the words, but he didn’t have to.
“A suitcase? My, my. What would we find in your pockets, pray tell? A passport?”
“Up yours, Sage. Is Annabelle upstairs? I want to talk to her.”
“You’re not in charge, Martin. You never were. Search him, Joe.”
“Damn it, not here,” Martin spluttered. “Let’s go upstairs. People talk. Don’t create a spectacle here.”
A deep sigh. “Bring him along, Joe.”
“I want to talk to Annabelle when we get there.”
Sean ran through the layout mentally. There was no easy way to get up there unnoticed. He didn’t have time now to get to Annabelle. He’d have to let them go first.
“Did I say she was upstairs? Maybe she’s in one of the back rooms.”
If only…extracting her would be much easier, Sean thought as he checked his weapon again.
“You won’t get away with this, Sage. I—”
Suddenly, the three of them approached. Sean flattened himself into a recess as the woman who must be Sage preceded Lowe up the stairs, followed by the muscle Sean had seen in the parking lot.
Sean waited until they were out of hearing. “Going up, Saint. I think Annabelle’s upstairs, but I’m checking the downstairs rooms on my way. Lowe, Holland and one guard are on their way up. And apparently, Lima’s due in town.”
Saint whistled his appreciation. “To snag Lima…”
“I’m not waiting.”
“I understand. I’m two blocks away with Trini. Keep your mic open, so we know what’s going on.”
“Copy that.” Sean slipped from his hiding place.
Then he heard Lowe yell.
And Lowe’s phone went dead.
When she first heard voices and footsteps, Annabelle moved closer to the door but stayed carefully back, listening.
“Jorge will be here soon, Martin. I don’t imagine he’ll think much of your travel plans. Joe, take him to his office. Restrain him.”
“You won’t—” Martin yelled.
The sound of a blow.
A moan.
A thud on the floor outside where she was trapped.
“Stick him in his office and watch him,” Sage said coldly. “I have a call to make.”
Oh, no. What had they done to Martin? Annabelle scrambled for her phone, then moved to the far wall and scrolled to Sean’s number. What if he wouldn’t take her call, after what had happened between them?
This situation is far more deadly than you can imagine, maybe more dangerous than he ever expected. You could simply be collateral damage, but you’d be just as dead. And I couldn’t live with that, Annabelle.
Oh, Sean… She hesitated for a second. What could she tell him that would help? She didn’t have any details, and she didn’t want to expose him to danger, too.
I want you safe, and I don’t care what I have to do to guarantee that.
She pushed the button. Immediately the call was sent to voicemail. Her heart sank, and she nearly disconnected. Maybe she should just call 911.
But the sound of his voice on the message made her remember how safe she’d felt with him once.
She stayed across the room and spoke softly. “Sean, I…you were right. I—”
A text popped on the screen.
Cant talk. Im downstairs. Where r u?
She stifled a gasp. She had no idea what miracle had brought him close, but she was beyond grateful. Upstairs. VIP. 1st door on rt. Door locked. Want me 2 call 911?
No. Help comg. Hide. Stay away fr door.
Martin hurt. In 1st ofc down hall on L. 1 guard. Sage in her ofc nxt dr.
Good girl. Now hide. Im here.
Her eyes prickled with tears of gratitude. Im sorry. U were rt.
Will keep u safe. Got 2 go.
After how she’d doubted him, accused him…
He’d warned her, and she’d refused to listen, yet still he was trying to take care of her. I love you, she wanted to say. But she had no right.
Pls be careful, she typed.
U 2.
Relief mingled with fear for him, but, oh, how glad she was that he was nearby. She searched for a good hiding place, but first she scanned every surface for something to use as a weapon. She didn’t like feeling this helpless.
The place was too clean. Then she remembered that they catered up here. She opened the drawer below the counter and found a knife. She knew next to nothing about self-defense, but it had a point and it could hurt. It was better than nothing.
She longed to linger by the door, to hear Sean pass by. To reach out and touch him.
But she’d gotten them both into danger by ignoring his warnings to stay away from Martin.
This time she’d listen.
Sean crept down the darkened hallway.
A figure appeared at the opening into the dance area.
He ducked into the restroom alcove.
The figure passed him. A woman, meeting Lowe’s description of the manager.
Sean crept up behind her and clapped a hand over her mouth.
She struggled against him.
He kept his hand tight and leaned next to her ear. “Leslie, I’m Detective Fitzgerald. Martin tell you to let me in?”
She nodded, tried to speak.
“Can I trust you to stay quiet if I remove my hand? I’m here to protect Annabelle, not to hurt you.”
She hesitated, then nodded.
He removed his hand slowly, ready to clap it back on if need be.
She faced him, whispering. “Sage and Martin went upstairs. What’s going on?”
Lowe had sworn she knew nothing of the way the club had been used illegally. Since he’d said she liked him and not Sage, Sean decided to omit Lowe’s part in the criminal enterprise. “Sage is involved in some illegal activities that could bring down the whole club. She’s going to use Annabelle as a hostage.”
The woman’s eyes went round. “No.”
“Yes. I don’t have time to talk more. Sage is expecting company, right?”
She nodded.
“Know when?”
“No.”
“I need to get Annabelle out of here now. Do you have a key to the VIP lounge?”
“Yes, but—”
“She’s locked Annabelle in. Give me the key.”
“I like Annabelle.” She withdrew a key ring and searched for the right one.
When she put it in his hand, he nodded toward the main area. “I don’t want anyone else hurt. Can you clear out the staff without Sage noticing?”
“Some of them, but her office looks out on the main floor. She’ll be suspicious if it’s completely empty.”
“Then keep a couple of people you trust if you’re sure they won’t panic. Get everyone else out of here now and
warn them not to talk to anyone but my team. They’ll be outside and will take care of them. Be sure the back door stays unlocked and propped open. Are there exterior cameras that Sage can see?”
“We have cameras, but the monitors for the exterior are down here in my office.”
“Good. I’m going to go upstairs and bring Annabelle out quietly if I can. Put your number in my phone, and I’ll let you know when I have her safe, then the rest of you get out, too.”
“What about Martin?”
He couldn’t tell her Lowe was hurt. No telling what she’d do. “I can only take one at a time, but my team will be coming for him.”
“He’s a good man.”
Not you, too. But he didn’t argue. “I’m trusting you to keep things calm down here.”
Her gaze was resolute. “You can count on me.”
“Thanks. Could you think of something to call Sage about, to distract her while I get Annabelle away?”
“I’ll figure out something. How soon?”
“Spread the word to your people as fast as possible, then call Sage as soon as you can. Three minutes cutting it too close?”
“I’ll manage.” She entered her number on his cell, then retraced her steps.
Sean followed silently, then detoured to the left to mount the stairs.
Being stuck behind a sofa let the mind run rampant into every possible nightmare scenario. Annabelle longed to go to the window to see what was going on downstairs, to listen at the door.
Don’t be that idiot heroine in the Gothic novel who goes into the darkened basement. You’ve already created problems enough.
She subsided against the corner wall. She flexed her fingers, realizing that she’d been gripping the knife handle like her one remaining hope.
But Sean was nearby. That thought brought her more comfort than she was entitled to, given the lack of faith she’d shown him.
He’d deceived her, yes—repeatedly—but she looked at the situation with new eyes now and realized how difficult the situation must have been for Sean. He was an undercover cop—he had to be a convincing actor, too, only the stakes were life or death, not mere box office receipts.
What happened between us was no job, Annabelle. You felt it, too.
She had. And if she got a chance to be with him again, she wouldn’t squander it.
Please. Give us that chance. Keep him safe.
A noise outside. A moan, like someone in pain. Was that Martin? What if Sean was hurt? She wanted to act, to help.
Then a sound, a key in the lock. She edged toward the end of the sectional nearest the door.
Her phone vibrated. Unlockd but dont come out.
Sean. Relieved by his nearness, Annabelle eased closer. She would be ready for whatever happened next.
Sean’s goal was to spirit Annabelle out without anyone noticing, to send her away before the raid went down. He listened to Sage talking on the phone to what he hoped was Leslie. From the sound of it, Sage wasn’t happy, and he knew he couldn’t count on having much time.
Just then he heard footsteps in the office across the hall, the one Annabelle said was Lowe’s. He sprinted to the wall next to that door and flattened himself against it, his weapon at the ready.
The door opened, and the burly man walked out, weapon drawn.
Headed for the room Annabelle was in.
“Don’t move,” Sean said quietly. “Police. Drop your weapon.” Be smart, please. Sean didn’t dare fire because Annabelle was somewhere behind the man. Bullets could go through walls.
The man whirled instead. Fired.
Sean tried to dodge but there was no time. The bullet slammed into his shoulder, knocked him back against the wall. His weapon tumbled from his grasp.
“Sean!” Annabelle’s voice.
The man kicked in that door.
The team would hear the gunfire on his mic and be here, but quickly enough? He scanned to see where his weapon had landed, gritting his teeth against the shoulder that was on fire.
While the man was looking away, Sean grasped his weapon in his left hand and braced himself against the wall.
The man yanked Annabelle out, brandishing her in front of him like a shield.
“You’re surrounded. Let her go,” Sean said. He wanted to look Annabelle over to be sure she wasn’t hurt but couldn’t afford not to watch the man closely.
“I’ve got him, Joe,” Sage said from her doorway.
Sean couldn’t watch both at once, and the man was closest to Annabelle. He could sense Sage nearing and spared her one quick glance. She was armed and approaching.
A form hurtled through the door beside Sean and barreled into Sage.
Lowe.
He knocked Sage to the ground.
Sean eased back so he could see both the man and them.
Lowe struggled with Sage for her weapon.
“Martin, watch out!” Annabelle cried.
The man fired a head shot. Lowe collapsed on top of his partner.
“No!” Annabelle screamed and lunged for Lowe.
“Annabelle, don’t!” Sean shouted.
But the man grabbed Annabelle and yanked her in front of him again, one beefy arm around her throat, his weapon rising toward her head.
Sean’s vision wavered. He couldn’t get a clear shot.
Annabelle’s right arm rose from her skirt. Sean spotted the gleam of metal.
She jammed it into the man’s thigh.
With a roar, he backhanded her into the wall. She collapsed like a rag doll.
Sean fired. The man fell backward.
Sean staggered toward Annabelle.
A sound came from his left. He whirled to see Sage’s weapon aiming at Annabelle.
Sean threw himself in front of Annabelle.
The bullet plowed into him.
“Annabelle—” he called.
But there was no answer as he fell.
Footsteps pounded up the stairs, and Annabelle stirred. “Sean—” She saw double and closed her eyes but tried to rise.
“Easy now. It’s Saint Valdez, Annabelle. Don’t get up. Someone will be here to take a look at you.”
“Saint?” She tried opening her eyes again. Blinked hard to focus.
“Yeah. Where are you hurt?”
“Just my head. Sean—is he—he got shot. Where is he?”
“He’s alive.”
But the look in Saint’s eyes made her shiver. “How bad?”
“Don’t know yet. He took two hits. A lot of blood.”
“Two?” She’d only seen one. “What happened?”
Saint stared at her. “Sage tried to shoot you. Sean took the bullet to save you.”
“No. Oh, Sean, no—” Grief bent her double.
“He’s in the ambulance now.”
“Where are they taking him? I have to go to him.” She struggled to her knees but swayed.
“You’re not going anywhere yet.” Saint caught her. “He’ll be taken to University Medical. It’s a Level One Trauma Center. He’s in good hands.”
“This is my fault.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and rocked herself. “All of it. He told me to stay away from Martin, but—” Then she remembered more. The vision of Martin charging Sage, and his head—She swallowed back the sour sickness. “Martin…is he…?”
“I’m sorry.”
“He’s been my best friend for years.” Annabelle clapped her hand over her mouth in horror at what she’d set in motion. Forced herself to meet Saint’s gaze. Don’t fall apart. You don’t have the right.
“I did this, Saint, all of this—if I’d believed Sean, none of this would have happened.” She gripped his arm. “Sean has to be okay. Are the doctors good enough?”
“We have to hope so.”
Hope? She wanted a guarantee. “If he needs anything…anything, Saint. I’ll give every dime I have if it will save him.” But you weren’t willing to give your trust, were you? You were too busy feeling sorry for yourself.
; Once again she tried to rise on unsteady legs. Saint assisted her, but she felt the reserve in him, saw the looks on the faces of his men.
They knew why Sean was hurt. Knew she was the reason he might not make it.
She’d placed her faith in someone who didn’t deserve it.
And hadn’t believed in the best man she’d ever met.
“You would be right to despise me, but—” She fought to steady her voice. “I want to be there to wait until—” Her voice broke. He has to make it. Please. “However little I deserve the privilege.” Once again she lifted her eyes to the man beside her. To her surprise, his gaze was more sympathetic than judgmental. “Would you—please, Saint…could you get me a cab or…?”
“After you let the paramedics check you out, I’ll drive you. If you’ll wait right here…”
“I will.” This time she’d listen. Do what she was asked.
She made herself straighten when she wanted to huddle, searched for a dignity she didn’t deserve.
No matter that she’d set the wheels in motion, could she have prevented Sean being wounded so badly or Martin being killed if she hadn’t screamed…if she’d been further back from the door…if she hadn’t let that man grab her, if she hadn’t stabbed him or she’d stabbed him somewhere else or…?
Too late, all of it.
Please, she beseeched God and fate and every force in the universe. I’ll do anything.
But God hadn’t done this. Fate hadn’t acted.
She had.
She might have a lot of money, possess the world’s adulation…
But right now, when the life of a very good man hung in the balance—
Everything else in her world was empty and meaningless.
Annabelle stared ahead blindly into a future that was forever altered.
Chapter Eighteen
A week later, Annabelle stood in Forest Lawn Cemetery to say goodbye to her friend Martin. He hadn’t been able to achieve the acting fame he’d sought, but she could give him this, a final resting place among those he’d admired.
It wasn’t enough.
But she wasn’t sure what would be. Didn’t even know how to feel about what she’d learned about him, the person she’d trusted most outside her own family.
Instead of believing in the man she should have.
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