Segura tipped the Chicago Cubs baseball cap he was wearing. “My pleasure, Miss Hamilton. My same congratulations on your breathing abilities.”
She laughed, liking this man at once. “Thank you. And call me Courtney.”
Segura was of obvious Hispanic descent with deep ebony hair and a swarthy complexion. His grin was infectious, his eyes dark and penetrating. Courtney would hate to see this man angry. Segura excused himself, and he and Jack walked off a ways to share a lengthy discussion. She tried eavesdropping, but it was clear the two were talking in some kind of annoying cop code. She was less certain than ever what their plans for her might be. But if Jack Sullivan thought for one minute he was going to pass her off to anyone else, he was going to find himself sorely mistaken.
The men returned to the vehicle. Courtney found herself frustrated by the inscrutable looks on both of their faces. Couldn’t at least one of them be an open book?
“Mark’s going to put us up for the time being.”
“Why?”
“It seems Fletcher Winthrop has no permanent address in Butte these days,” Segura said. “I’m afraid he’s helped himself to your father’s place in Elk Park.”
Courtney gasped, outraged. “Then I’ll throw him out.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Jack gritted. “Winthrop isn’t to know that you’re even in town. Do you understand?”
She didn’t answer.
“Do you understand?” he repeated tightly.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
She looked at Mark Segura. “Why not a hotel?”
“You’ll prefer my place, believe me. The hotels are swarming with media types. The quasinews, my-mother-slept-with-Bigfoot people.”
“Oh. But I really don’t want to inconvenience you.” Actually, she was thinking more along the lines of three’s a crowd.
Segura sent Jack a wink. “Don’t worry. I won’t be there. I got a girl over on Granite. She’ll be overjoyed to put me up for the night.”
The three of them then climbed into the ATV and began the bone-jarring ride back toward civilization. Segura drove, Jack sat in the back, Courtney in the passenger seat.
“How long have you known Jack?” she asked, raising her voice to compete with the ATV’s vociferous engine.
“Jack and I go back a ways. You might say Pete Wilson brought us together. As I recall, Pete caught Jack knocking over a vending machine. Along about that same time I was trying my hand at stealing a radio out of a car.”
“Pete took you under his wing, too?”
“Pete Wilson had pretty big wings and a bigger heart. That’s why Jack and I are in this so deep.”
“You decided to be a cop, too, because of Pete?”
He laughed. “No, I’m afraid that was in spite of Pete. He figured Jack for cop material. Me? He suggested I think about being a doctor.” He grinned. “I joined the rodeo instead. Made him madder than hell, let me tell you. But he came around.”
“You ride?”
“Used to. ‘Til a bull stepped on my head. Figured life would be simpler if people just pointed guns at me.”
Jack leaned over and passed the computer disk to Mark. “Get your best people on this one.”
“Will do, amigo. Thanks.”
“Do you have enough evidence to arrest Fletcher?” Courtney asked.
“Not yet. But if that son of his is ever stupid enough to leave South America, he’ll do some hard time. He’s sloppy. Real sloppy. I think he’s taken to using some of his product, if you get my meaning.”
Courtney winced.
“I’m sorry, miss. I forgot you’d been married to him.”
“A mistake in another lifetime, Mr. Segura.”
“Mark.”
“It’s just that I don’t like to think of anyone wasting their life on drugs. Not even Roger.”
An hour later Segura drove onto the two-lane highway that snaked through the rugged back country toward Butte. He only stayed on the road a few hundred feet, turning off into a copse of trees near a gigantic boulder. Several hundred yards into the brush, they came to a halt beside a rusty beater of a van that Mark had likely used to haul the ATV. He yanked open the rear door and gestured for Courtney to climb in. “I know it’s not much, but it’s safe. No one can see inside.”
Courtney stared into that gaping cargo area, her mind catapulting her back to the day she’d been kidnapped. “I can’t get in there.”
“It’s okay,” Jack said. “I’ll ride with you.”
Only then did she climb inside. Together they huddled on the floor, Jack holding her close. The van started to move.
“It was hell for me that day,” he said softly.
“Were you the one who chloroformed me?”
“Yes.”
She could hear the pain in his voice. Still, she shuddered.
“I tried my damnedest not to hurt you. I tried to make Frank ride up front with me so he couldn’t...try anything. When he put his hands on you in the chopper...” He didn’t finish. “I’m just so damned sorry, Courtney.”
“I love you, Jack.” It seemed an appropriate moment to remind him.
He sighed heavily and hugged her tight. “I’m going to get you through this. My hand to God, I am.”
“I know.”
A half hour later the van stopped. The rear door opened, and Courtney and Jack climbed down onto the macadam behind a four-plex apartment house of fairly recent vintage. Mark handed Jack a set of keys. “Mi casa, su casa.”
“Thanks. I’ll get my backpack.” He headed toward the front of the van.
Courtney turned to Mark. “I want to thank you for all your help.”
“My pleasure.” He touched the brim of his Cubs cap. “Oh, and I raised my contact at the hospital on my car phone. Your father’s still improving. The coma’s much lighter, but he’s likely another day or two from waking up.”
She blinked back tears. “Thank you.”
Mark brushed her cheek with a kiss. “Jack was right. You’re one helluva lady.”
She blushed.
“And Jack’s a helluva guy. He saved my butt one summer down in Tijuana when we were both a lot younger and a lot stupider. You take good care of him.”
“I love him.”
Mark snorted. “And the sky’s blue.”
“Pretty obvious, huh?”
“What’s obvious?” Jack asked, striding back up to them.
“The fact that I need a shower,” Courtney said, pushing a hand through her disheveled hair.
“Sorry,” Mark said. “Don’t have one.”
Courtney couldn’t suppress a groan.
“You’ll have to settle for my Jacuzzi.”
Courtney and Jack exchanged glances. They both grinned. “Remind me to leave a mint on the man’s pillow,” Courtney said.
Jack took Mark aside. “I appreciate the place to crash, amigo. But...”
“It’s a little too exposed for your taste?”
“Exactly.”
“I know. I’m going to go reconnoiter a couple of places. Find something with better security. You should be fine here for a few hours, though.” He gave Jack a sly grin. “I thought you might appreciate the privacy.” He paused. “And the Jacuzzi.”
“You’re a wise man,” Jack said. “A very wise man.”
“I like him,” Courtney said, coming back over to Jack’s side as Mark drove off.
“Me, too.” He kissed her forehead. “Come on, let’s get you out of sight.”
To Courtney’s weary eyes, Mark’s modest apartment rivaled the finest European château. While Jack walked around, closing miniblinds and checking behind doors, Courtney simply stood in the middle of the living room and drank in the trappings of civilization. “Did you see this stuff, Jack?”
He paused in his inspection and gave her a puzzled look. “See what?”
“All of these exotic things. Look. Carpeting, curtains, a TV, a couch.” She walked over and peeked into the kitchen
. “My God—a microwave.”
“You hated the cabin that much, did you?”
“Not at all,” she said, astonished to realize that she was telling the truth. “But what can I say? It could use a little sprucing up.”
“Like maybe a hot tub?”
She pretended to have to think it over, then said. “Yes, I think a Jacuzzi would work for me.” She began to undo the buttons of her shirt. “What about you, Jack? Does it work for you?”
He went for his own buttons. “I think it’s you who works for me, woman.”
She spied the telltale bulge in his jeans. “Last one in scrubs my back.”
Jack’s pace slowed considerably.
“Okay, first one in!”
They spent nearly two hours in the hot tub. They cuddled, frolicked and made some pretty wild love. Afterward, they collapsed on the bed in Mark’s guest room and slept like the dead.
Courtney woke to find Jack regarding her intently. She rolled onto her back, making no attempt to shield her naked body from his fascinated perusal. “Penny for your thoughts,” she murmured, then added, “a nickel if they’re sexy.”
“I was just thinking I’m the luckiest man on the planet.”
She reached over to trace lazy circles across his flat belly. “That’s only fair,” she said. “I’m the luckiest woman.” She laid her head where her hand had been. “I love you, Jack Sullivan. So much. But I’m getting pretty tired of being scared all the time.”
He stroked her hair. “It’ll be over soon. I promise. If Mark’s people can decode that disk, it could be the evidence they need to tip the balance, to get an indictment.”
“Do you think Fletcher knows the authorities are onto him?”
“It’s beginning to look that way. Mark’s had him tailed day and night. Fletcher’s getting pretty hinky. In fact, they’re worried he might try and leave the country. Head for Roger in South America.”
“I can’t say as I would mind having them both out of the country.”
“You won’t be safe until they’re both behind bars.”
Courtney sighed. “I know.” Sometimes this madness was all so hard to believe. “I wish you’d reconsider about my talking to Fletcher.”
“Not in this lifetime.”
“But I really think I could—”
The phone rang. Jack let the machine answer, only catching up the receiver when he heard Mark’s voice.
Courtney watched Jack’s face as he listened, his expression shifting from fretful to buoyant. He signed off, then grabbed Courtney and let out a whoop of joy. “It’s done,” he pronounced. “It’s done.”
“What is?”
“Fletcher’s in jail. An arrest warrant was issued two hours ago.”
A flood of emotions washed over her. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Part of her was overwhelmed, overjoyed, but another part, the part of her that had loved and trusted Fletcher Winthrop felt her heart break. Obviously, there had been enough evidence to issue that warrant.
Jack must have sensed her turmoil. His embrace tightened. “I’m here, princess. I’m here.”
She fell asleep in his arms.
The sound of an insistent doorbell woke them. Courtney raised her head sleepily.
“It must be Mark,” Jack said. “I’ve got his keys.”
“Is that my cue to get dressed?”
“It might be a good idea.”
“I don’t know. Mark’s pretty cute.”
Jack growled.
Courtney rose and donned the khaki slacks and forest-green sweater she’d found lying out for her earlier. Whether Mark had made a special procurement with her in mind, or they were souvenirs from an old girlfriend, Courtney had no idea. Jack yanked on a pair of Mark’s jeans and a sweatshirt, then gestured that she stay back as he headed for the front door.
“But why? You said Fletcher’s in jail.”
“Just humor me, okay?” He reached the door. “Who is it?” he called.
“It’s Mark, amigo.”
Jack checked the peephole. Only then did his shoulders relax. He turned the deadbolt and eased open the door. “You need a spare set of—”
The door exploded inward, Mark’s body hurtling through the opening, slamming into Jack and sending both men crashing to the floor. Jack cursed savagely, trying desperately to shove his unconscious friend to one side. “Courtney, run!”
But it was too late. Far too late.
Two men, dressed in black, stepped into Mark’s apartment. Both of them with guns drawn.
Courtney stood, frozen with shock. Shock that deepened to terror an instant later, when through that same door stepped her worst nightmare.
“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, darling?” he purred, his voice silky smooth and cold as ice. “A very long time. But good things do come to those who wait.”
Roger.
Chapter 10
Mark Segura lay unmoving on the floor of his apartment, the whole right side of his head drenched with blood. Courtney couldn’t tell if he was unconscious or dead. But her real attention focused on the man beside him. Jack lay flat on his back, arms raised, his face a mask of impotent fury. The barrels of two guns pointed squarely at his head.
“Careful, gentlemen,” Roger warned. “We don’t want to damage him too much.” He laughed unpleasantly. “Yet.” He crooked a finger toward one of his gunsels. “Julio?”
“Yes, Mr. Winthrop.”
“I need you to take out the trash.” He pointed toward Segura.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Winthrop.” The taller of the two gunmen, Julio, was a well-muscled Hispanic Courtney guessed to be in his early twenties. As she watched, he pulled two lengths of rope from his jacket pocket. Hunkering down, he bound up Mark’s ankles and wrists, as though trussing up a steer. Then he jammed a gag into his mouth. At least the gag allowed Courtney to believe that Mark was still alive.
Julio then yanked a quilt from the couch, spread it out on the floor and rolled Mark into it. With barely a grunt of exertion, he slung the inert agent over his right shoulder and carried him out the front door.
“What’s he going to do to him?” Courtney demanded.
Roger’s eyes glittered dangerously. “I don’t recall giving you permission to ask questions. However, I’ll indulge you this once, for old times’ sake. He’s going to deposit him into the trunk of my Mercedes. From there he’ll be disposed of at my convenience. His role in our little drama is finished now. I only needed him to get to you. He thought he was being so clever. But I’ve had his movements monitored for weeks.”
Roger gestured toward his other hired gun. “William, please be so kind as to accord our other guest the same treatment Julio gave to Mr. Segura.”
An ugly grin spread across William’s acne-scarred features. He pulled out his own lengths of rope and started to tie Jack’s hands.
Jack’s jaw clenched. Courtney knew it was killing him not to fight back. But for now the odds were weighted so heavily against him that he didn’t dare risk it. He would bide his time, wait for an opening. For her part, Courtney would do whatever she could to provide him with that opening.
“Hold up, William,” Roger said. “I have a better idea.” He reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Try these. Compliments of Mr. Segura.”
William removed the rope, then squeezed the handcuffs onto Jack’s wrists so tightly, they nearly cut off the blood supply to his hands.
“Roger, please,” Courtney said. “This isn’t going to work. You’ll never get away with it.”
“On the contrary, my dear, I’ve been getting away with it for years. Until you came stumbling back into my life. And stole all my money. Not a wise decision on your part.”
“I don’t have your money.”
“Oh, but you do. That computer disk, remember?”
“I don’t have that, either.” Mark had taken it. The fact that Roger still didn’t have it meant Mark had at least managed to secure the disk be
fore being waylaid by Roger and his thugs.
“Another mistake on your part,” Roger tsked. “A potentially fatal one, I’m afraid. But let’s not spoil the mood. For the moment, believe it or not, I have more important things on my mind. Like saying hello to an old and dear friend.”
Roger ambled over to where Jack lay, his wrists secured. William gripped the chain that connected his handcuffs and gave it a savage yank. Jack was forced to climb awkwardly to his feet. “Christmas comes early this year, Sullivan,” Roger said silkily. “Imagine my surprise at crossing paths with you again. I must have been a very good boy.”
“You’re a sack of—”
Roger drove his fist into Jack’s stomach. Jack doubled over, gasping, then very deliberately, insolently, he straightened. “I’m impressed. I didn’t think you knew how to use those hands for anything except dialing a phone.”
Courtney remembered Roger’s long-ago call to have Jack fired.
Roger rubbed the back of his abused knuckles with his other hand. “We’ll see how smart you are by the time this night is over. For now, I strongly suggest you keep your mouth shut. Otherwise—and this I promise you—Courtney will pay the price for any more of your...transgressions.”
“Touch her, and I’ll kill you.”
For an instant Roger’s bravado vanished. Courtney saw fear in those pale green eyes. Then he looked at William and nodded his head ever so slightly.
William attacked Jack with savage ferocity, beating him unmercifully about the head and upper body. Jack went to his knees, blood dripping from his nose, his mouth.
“Roger, please!” Courtney caught at his sleeve. “Make him stop! Please! I beg you!”
Like some perverse despot, Roger held up his right hand. As quickly as it had begun, the beating stopped.
“Thank you.” She said the words, though they almost made her vomit.
“You’re welcome.” He touched her cheek with the back of his hand, and Courtney willed herself not to recoil. For the briefest heartbeat the old Roger stood there, the young man who had wooed her, courted her and for a tiny space of time, genuinely loved her.
And then he seemed to shake himself, his voice deadly soft, lethal. “Don’t ever ask me for anything again.”
Montana Rogue Page 18