The Next Mrs. Blackthorne (Bitter Creek Book 6)

by Joan Johnston

  “I didn’t come with—”

  Donnie held the detonator at arm’s length and said, “You tell me the truth right now, or I’m going to punch this button. Don’t worry, it isn’t going to kill us. The bomb’s far enough away that we’ll survive. But your daughter won’t.”

  “I came with Kate’s uncle, North,” Clay said.

  “Tell him to show himself.”

  “North!” Clay shouted. “Donnie wants you to show yourself. He’s threatening to detonate a bomb and kill Kate if you don’t come out.”

  Donnie gestured with the detonator for Clay to step back into the hall, and he followed him out, putting his back to the wall as he looked first one direction, then the other, for North to appear.

  “Where is he?” Donnie demanded agitatedly.

  “I don’t know,” Clay said. “North!” he shouted. “Get your ass out here!”

  But North didn’t show.

  “What kind of game are you playing?” Donnie said. “Did Kate’s uncle come with you? Or not? Maybe you just didn’t want me to know you’re alone. Which is it?”

  “I thought you had all the answers,” Clay said curtly.

  “Start walking,” Donnie said. “That way.” He gestured toward the opposite end of the hallway. “Keep your hands where I can see them. Don’t get any brilliant ideas about trying to pull a gun or anything.”

  Why the hell hadn’t North shown himself? And where was Jack? All he could hope was that they’d found the two women. And that the women knew where Kate was being held.

  Clay looked at each room as they passed by it, but all of them were empty. His heartbeat was erratic, and he was finding it hard to catch his breath, he was so scared. Not for himself. For Libby. And for Kate. And for Jocelyn, of course. Although his feelings for her were never so plain as they were now, when his first concern was for another woman.

  Clay kept expecting North and Jack to turn up at any moment. He became more and more worried when they didn’t. What had happened to them? Had Donnie set some sort of trap in which they’d been caught? He searched left and right in front of him, but saw no sign of either man.

  Jack listened to Donnie bragging to Clay that he’d disabled the garage cameras, and then heard him say that Kate wasn’t on the sixth floor and had a sudden flash of insight. Donnie had said all three women were with him. But Libby had said, “Jocelyn and I are fine.” Which meant Kate wasn’t with the others.

  And suddenly Jack knew where she was.

  Jack slipped through the stairwell door and raced down the stairs two at a time until he reached the bridge to the parking garage next door to the hospital. He’d wondered why Donnie had an Escalade, and now he knew. The heavy-duty automobile, which weighed over six thousand pounds, could carry a massive payload of explosives.

  He doubted Donnie was going to waste his explosives on a hospital. He was going to drive the Escalade right up to the front steps of the courthouse and explode it there. With Kate inside.

  Jack told himself he’d made the correct professional decision, abandoning Clay and North to come hunt for Kate. Once Kate was free, Donnie would lose a powerful bargaining tool.

  Jack knew Donnie’s license plate number because he’d followed the car. He tried to imagine on which floor Donnie would leave the Caddy parked. Not the first floor—too easy to spot. Not the top floor—too hard to make his escape. So somewhere in between. He jogged the perimeter of the garage starting at the top and following the ramps down, looking for the Escalade. And found it on the third floor.

  He could tell there was no one in the front seat, but the luxurious Caddy had darkly tinted windows and it was parked in a dark corner. Jack knew the Escalade had a decent antitheft system, but he doubted Donnie would want any kind of noisy alarm that would attract attention. He peered inside the rear of the vehicle, but could see nothing.

  Jack stooped down and took a look at the car’s undercarriage, searching for a booby trap that might detonate the car if he tried to get inside. He saw nothing.

  That didn’t mean something wasn’t there, only that Jack wasn’t knowledgeable enough to find it. He debated whether to call in the bomb squad, but then thought of Donnie glancing out the window and seeing a bomb van arriving and detonating the whole enchilada. Besides, time was of the essence. The sooner he could free Kate, the sooner Clay and North could confront Donnie.

  He wondered how soundproof the car was. He stood at the window and shouted, “Kate, are you in there?”

  He got a thump in return. She must be gagged.

  “Good girl,” he said, hoping she could hear him. “I’m going to get you out of there.”

  Two enthusiastic thumps in reply.

  Jack debated the best way to get inside the car and decided to break a window. He needed something substantial to break the safety glass, and decided to use the butt of his gun. The next problem was which window to break. He didn’t want to take a chance of hurting Kate. And he wasn’t sure what kind of explosives Donnie was using, so the less trauma, the better.

  He decided on the passenger’s side window. He knew Kate wasn’t nearby, and he couldn’t see any explosives on the seat.

  “Here goes,” he said.

  It took two tries before the glass splintered, and another strong punch to clear the glass from the window. Then he stuck his head inside to see what he could see.

  Jack took a deep breath and let it out.

  The second and third seats had been removed to make an incredibly long bed. Kate was tied hand and foot and gagged, lying as though in a coffin created by two lines of fertilizer bags stacked to the ceiling on either side of her. He could see she was indeed wearing a vest with pockets containing what looked like Simtex. What he didn’t know was whether any of those squares of Simtex were attached to any of the bags of fertilizer on either side of her.

  “You’re in a pickle, all right, young lady,” he said. He meant it to be funny, but it came out sounding grim.

  Jack carefully opened the passenger’s side door, looking for trip wires, then did another search under the seat, for anything that might be triggered by his weight. He found nothing.

  Maybe Donnie had been overconfident. Maybe he’d believed the car would never be found, so he hadn’t wired any booby traps. Jack was afraid to hope. It was too dangerous to underestimate Donnie. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve and slid a knee onto the passenger’s seat, then the other knee, so he was facing the backseat.

  He could see Kate’s frightened eyes. He felt his insides twist. Oh, God. He cared way too much. His heart kicked into high gear, and his breathing harshened. He forced himself to breathe slowly. He forced himself to move slowly. He needed to stay calm. He needed to stay objective. Kate’s life depended on it.

  “Okay, kid. Just stay cool and I’ll have you out of there in short order.”

  Jack slid his body into the space above Kate, holding himself up on his hands, which he placed in the narrow area between her waist and the fertilizer, aware of her quickened breathing, aware of her quivering body, aware of the rancid smell of fear that filled the car.

  He held himself up on one hand, while he slid the other carefully along the length of her body, from her feet upward, feeling her flinch each time he touched, calming her with his voice, telling her he was checking to make sure it was safe to untie her and remove her from the car.

  “Easy. Not too much longer. I’ve got you.”

  He eased himself back onto his knees on the passenger’s seat and checked the area around Kate’s head one more time, to make sure there was nothing connected to anything explosive. He could see the tears slide down the sides of her face, but she didn’t make a sound.

  At last, he removed the gag.

  He heard her cough, and then her croaking voice saying, “I knew you’d come.”

  “I’m a regular knight in shining armor.”

  “Don’t joke,” she said in a plaintive voice. “I prayed. And you came.”

  “Al
l right, kid. Let’s see if I can get you out of here.” He carefully untied all the plastic cords that held her in place, watching for a booby trap he might have missed, wanting to be a hero for her, even though there was no future for the two of them.

  At last he had her free. He slid his hands under her armpits and tugged her up and over the front seat and into his lap, where it would be easier to remove the vest of Simtex. “You’re okay now, kid.”

  She gripped his arms and pressed her face against his chest and started to sob.

  He felt his throat tighten with emotion and held her close, wanting to comfort. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

  She was sobbing something that he couldn’t make out. He lifted her chin and kissed her lips and said, “Shh. Shh. I can’t understand you.”

  She swallowed the next sob. And the next. She looked up at him with shimmery eyes and said, very clearly and distinctly, “The vest. There’s no way to get it off.”

  19

  “Step into the last room on the left,” Donnie said.

  When Clay stepped into the room, he found Libby lying on a hospital bed, dressed in street clothes, apparently unconscious.

  He made an animal sound in his throat and hurried to her bedside, checking the pulse at her throat to make sure she was alive. When he did, she opened one eye, winked, and closed it again.

  Clay was so surprised, he took a step back, which made him collide with Donnie, who’d come running after him. He reached for the hand holding the detonator, but Donnie snatched it away and struck Clay in the temple with the gun.

  Clay reeled, stunned. He would have fallen except he grabbed the metal handrail of the bed. He saw Libby’s eyes flash open and quickly close again when she realized he was still on his feet.

  “Keep your distance!” Donnie said.

  “I was checking to make sure she’s alive,” Clay said breathlessly.

  “Of course she’s alive!” Donnie said. “It was just a flesh wound.” His eyes were frantically searching the room. “Where’s the other one?” he demanded. “I left her gagged and tied up in a chair beside the bed.”

  “How should I know?” Clay said. He felt sure North must have rescued Jocelyn, but he couldn’t understand why Libby had been left behind—although the wink suggested there was some plan in motion.

  Donnie crossed to Libby, and, before Clay realized what he intended, backhanded her in the face. “Wake up!”

  Libby’s eyes flew open as she cried out in pain.

  Clay reacted instinctively, striking out at Donnie with a powerful fist propelled by rage. Donnie’s reflexes were fast, but not fast enough, and Clay caught enough of the boy’s chin to snap his head back and cause him to stumble backward.

  Clay ripped the detonator from Donnie’s hand and hung on tight, not knowing whether it was rigged to go off with additional pressure, or when the pressure was released. He wasn’t quick enough to get to the gun before Donnie recovered and trained it on him.

  Donnie held out his empty hand and said, “Give me that back.”

  Clay shook his head, certain that he held his daughter’s fate in his hand.

  Donnie pointed the gun at Libby’s heart and said in a vicious voice, “Give me the detonator.”

  Clay met Libby’s eyes, which were liquid with feeling. Donnie was asking him to choose between his daughter and the woman he loved. It was a choice he couldn’t—wouldn’t—make.

  They were at a standoff.

  Then, to his astonishment, he saw Jocelyn coming out of the bathroom behind Donnie, her face taut with concentration, an aluminum bedpan held high.

  Donnie must have seen movement from the corner of his eye, because he turned at the last second and put an arm up to stave off the bedpan, knocking Jocelyn backward against the wall. He had his finger on the trigger and was bringing his gun to bear on Jocelyn, when Clay leaped at him.

  They went down in a pile, and Clay struggled one-handed to reach Donnie’s gun. He was at a disadvantage because he didn’t dare let go of the detonator. Jocelyn struggled to her feet, but she was still several steps away when Donnie managed to get his gun pointed at Clay’s chest.

  “Give me the detonator, or you’ll kill us all,” Donnie said through his teeth.

  “You’re done giving orders, Donnie,” a voice said from the doorway.

  Donnie jerked around, but he before he could get his gun turned, the butt of a shotgun hit the back of his head, and he was knocked out cold.

  Clay accepted the hand North held out to him and got back on his feet. Jocelyn leaned down to pick up the gun Donnie had dropped when he fell.

  “Just in the nick of time,” Clay said. “What held you up?”

  “Believe it or not, Donnie had an accomplice,” North said. “That gray-haired newspaperman at the courthouse who kept asking Kate such personal questions. I relieved him of this shotgun on my way here. Where’s Kate?”

  “I don’t know,” Clay said. He held out the detonator to North. “How does this thing work?”

  Jocelyn joined Clay and North, who stepped over to Libby’s bedside, so the four of them could look at the detonator Clay held gripped in his hand.

  “This looks like a safety catch,” Jocelyn said, pointing to a catch on the side.

  “What if it’s not?” Libby said. “We can’t take that chance.”

  Clay’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket. “Can you get that, Jocelyn?” he said, turning his pocket in her direction.

  Jocelyn answered the phone and held it out so they could all hear Jack.

  “I’ve got Kate,” he said. “We’re away from Donnie’s car, but it’s full of explosives. I’m waiting to hear from you that Libby and Jocelyn are clear before I call in the bomb squad.”

  “Donnie’s no longer a threat,” Clay said. “I’m standing here holding the detonator, but I don’t know if it’s safe to release it.”

  “Hang on to it,” Jack said. “Better let the bomb guys decide what to do with it.”

  “How’s Kate?” Clay asked.

  “She’s fine,” Jack said. He took a breath and said, “She’s still wearing the vest.”

  “Couldn’t you get it off?” Clay said.

  “The bomb guys need to do it. I’ll call them now.”

  Clay exchanged a look with Libby, who’d apparently been untied the whole time, as she slid her feet off the edge of the bed. “Where do you think you’re going?” he said.

  “To be with my daughter.”

  “That’s the one place you can’t go,” Clay said.

  “My baby is in trouble. I’m going to be with her,” Libby said determinedly.

  Clay looked at North and said, “Who do we know to make all this happen faster?”

  “I’m not sure you want someone working fast on a bomb,” North said. “But I’d say you Blackthornes know more high-powered Texas folks than we Grayhawks do.”

  “I can’t believe the two of you are colluding to put pressure on public employees,” Libby said. And then, fervently, “But I’m so glad you are.”

  Clay made a call on his cell phone, and when he hung up, said, “We’re supposed to make our way to the ground floor and wait for the bomb detail.” He slid his free arm around Libby to help support her.

  “I’ll stay here with Donnie until the police get here,” North said, as Clay and Libby headed for the door.

  “I’ll stay with North,” Jocelyn said.

  “You should go with Libby and Clay,” North said. “It might be a while before the police get here.”

  “I want to stay,” Jocelyn said to Clay and Libby, who’d paused to wait for her. “You two go ahead,” she said.

  And they did.

  “Let me tie this creep up,” North said when they were gone. “I don’t want to take a chance of him causing any more trouble.”

  He handed Jocelyn the shotgun and said, “Do you know how to use this?”

  “I shoot skeet,” Jocelyn said.

  “I should have known,” North said as he
pulled Donnie’s hands behind him and secured them with the plastic rope that had tied Jocelyn to the chair. “This is strong rope. How did you get yourself free?”

  “Donnie presumed Libby was more incapacitated than she was. He tied her to the bed and me to the chair, but he didn’t tie the chair down. I moved the chair to where Libby could reach the knots, and she untied me.”

  “If you were free, why didn’t you escape?” North asked.

  “Unlike you, we knew about Donnie’s associate. Donnie told him to shoot us if he saw us on the stairs. And Donnie was blocking our escape by way of the elevator. Anyway, we knew you and Clay were coming, so we figured we’d hang around and help you when you got here.”

  “You decided to help us?” North said, his mouth curved in a smile. “Didn’t you think we could manage on our own?”

  Jocelyn smiled back. “We did help. And of course you managed fine.”

  North reached for Jocelyn’s hand and tugged her out of the room, closing the door behind them. Once they were in the hall, he leaned back against the wall and pulled Jocelyn between his widespread legs, hugging her tight.

  She slid her arms around his neck and leaned her cheek against his chest. “I was afraid you wouldn’t come in time,” she whispered.

  “I was afraid, too,” he said gruffly. “That I wouldn’t have a chance to tell you…that I love you.”

  Jocelyn raised her head and looked into North’s warm and welcoming blue eyes. “I’ve known for a long time how you feel about me, North. I’m glad to finally hear you say the words.”

  North frowned. “I never—I didn’t—I wouldn’t say that—”

  Jocelyn laughed softly and reached up on tiptoes to kiss him, cutting off his protestations. “Just so you know, I love you, too. I think I have since the first time I laid eyes on you. When you tried to scare me off by—”

  This time North cut her off, kissing her long and thoroughly, holding her close. When he released her, he looked down into her eyes and said, “Will you marry me, Joss?”

  She grinned. “Yes. Soon, please. Otherwise, your firstborn is going to arrive—”