Mystery Bride

by Daniels, B. J.

  Sam’s heart suddenly leapt into her throat. She looked around hurriedly for the phone and realized there wasn’t one in the cottage. Her cell phone. It had been in the pickup—not in her purse. She found the keys to the truck where Will had left them on the table and quietly let herself out of the cottage.

  Inside the cab of the pickup, she dialed Charley’s number. It rang several times before he picked up. A cop was used to getting calls in the middle of the night.

  “Charley, it’s me, Sam,” she said quickly.

  “Where the hell are you?” he demanded. “I heard what happened on the ferry. Dammit, Sam—”

  “Cassie tried to kill me and I’m afraid she will do anything to get the other pieces of the game—including kill Lucas’s partner Bradley Guess and the half-brother, Eric Ross.”

  “Too late, sweetheart,” Charley said quietly. “Bradley Guess was found dead a few hours ago. His piece of the game is missing. And your twenty-four hours are up.”

  She closed her eyes and squeezed the phone receiver.

  “The chief could pull my badge if he finds out I let you—”

  “Charley, I don’t think it’s a game. I think there is something hidden in the game.”

  “Like what?” he asked. She could tell she had his attention.

  “I don’t know yet.” She thought of what Bebe had said about a way to break into any computer in the world.

  “As of this moment, you’re off this case,” Charley said. “Don’t make me pull rank on you. I’d hate to see your butt behind bars, cuz. Worse, mine.”

  “What about Zack?”

  “You leave Zack and Cassie to me,” he said confidentially. “There are cops working on this case as we speak. You’ve repaid any debts you thought you owed Lucas and Zack. You done good. But now it’s out of your hands.”

  She knew he meant it. She was surprised he hadn’t demanded she quit when Lucas was found murdered.

  “Then I’d better tell you something,” she said. “I think I know where the fifth piece of the game is.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  She realized that’s what had awakened her. The notes from a song, the same one she’d heard leaking out of Zack’s CD player for miles. “I think Zack has it.” She explained her theory. “He was so protective of his stuff. It just threw me when I didn’t find the CD in his backpack. I should have thought to look in the player.”

  “You and me both,” Charley said. “Where are you, anyway?”

  “In some beach cottage with Will,” she said almost shyly.

  “Good,” Charley said with a chuckle. “Stay there. By the way, I think Will is a keeper.”

  “Me, too.” She didn’t tell him that Will knew the kind of woman he wanted for his bride—and she wasn’t it. “Good night.”

  “Good night, cuz.”

  She switched off the cell phone and sat in the darkness of the cab, listening to the waves crashing on the shore and the painful pounding of her heart. She’d lost Zack. And it was just a matter of time before Will went back to his old life. Worse, she hadn’t been able to solve the case and save Zack. Or find Lucas’s game.

  The cell phone rang, making her jump. She picked it up, thinking it must be Charley calling her back. She’d had enough bad news for one night.

  “Sam!” Zack cried. “You have to help—”

  Panic seized her heart at the fear in his voice.

  Another voice came on the line. “Sam?”

  Her heart stuck in her throat, the air around leaden, unbreathable. “Lucas?” she whispered, knowing even as she said his name that it wasn’t him. Lucas was dead.

  “Do as I tell you,” Lucas’s voice instructed. “If you don’t—” His voice broke off. She could hear Zack in the background crying softly. “You must come alone.” She glanced toward the cottage where Will was still sleeping. Leave Will? Her heart felt torn. But nor could she endanger him any more than she already had.

  “If you don’t, she will kill him,” Lucas was saying.

  She tried to interrupt but the Lucas voice continued as if he hadn’t heard her. Of course he hadn’t heard her.

  “Listen,” he said. “And do exactly as I say.”

  She listened, understanding only one thing. She’d failed Zack. Now he was in trouble and she had to try to help him. No matter what Charley said.

  WILL WOKE TO THE SOUND of a boat. It grew nearer, the soft putt-putt of a large motor. He reached across the bed, realizing groggily that the warmth had gone out of the night. Samantha was no longer beside him. The bed was empty!

  He sat up with a start. Moonlight splattered across the bare floor, silver shards of light. He jumped up and rushed barefoot and naked into the adjoining room of the cottage, suddenly afraid.

  “Samantha?” he called softly.

  No answer.

  She wasn’t in the bathroom or the small kitchen. He glanced toward the front window, not surprised to see the boat he’d heard. It was large—a speedboat dark against the night. He caught his breath. A figure stood silhouetted against the moonlit water. Samantha! She seemed to be waiting on the dock for the approaching boat.

  He rushed back into the bedroom and pulled on his still damp jeans and boots. He could hear the boat motor shift into an idle. He ran out of the cottage calling her name. She looked back for an instant, then a hand grabbed her from the boat and pulled her inside. The boat reversed in a growl of engine and a splash of waves.

  He reached the dock and almost leaped into the water just as he had from the ferry. But the boat was now too far away. It would have been futile.

  The driver slammed the speedboat into gear, and in a thunder of power roared off across the moonlit waves.

  Will swore and looked around, spotting a small fishing boat with a 40-horsepower outboard on it at a neighboring dock. The motor started on the second pull, and he aimed the bow of the boat after the disappearing speedboat. The other boat was larger and faster, but he could make out its running lights in the distance. With a little luck—

  The wind and waves lashed out at him instantly, sending a shower of spray over the top of the boat and soaking him as he gunned the motor, making him wish he’d grabbed more clothing. He found a slicker in the bottom of the boat, and, although wet, the coat at least provided some protection from the wind.

  The small fishing boat skipped along on top of the chop as he followed the retreating speedboat. Why would Samantha leave his bed? She was too smart to go off alone in the dark with some stranger in a boat. What had happened? What would make her do something so dangerous?

  Zack. He’d be the only reason. Dear God.

  The dark water of the bay moved restlessly. Out here, the wind ripped at the tops of the waves, sending a shower of icy water into the air. Cold and numb, Will kept the bow plowing after the speedboat.

  He could barely make out the lights in the distance when he saw that the boat had turned inward and was now headed for shore along a rocky outcropping in what looked like an old industrial area.

  He slowed the fishing boat, letting it wallow in the waves as he watched the driver get out of the boat, pulling Samantha with him. The driver hadn’t expected to be followed. He didn’t even give a backward glance as he dragged Samantha toward what looked like an abandoned building. Will eased the fishing boat toward the shore.

  “WHERE ARE YOU taking me?” Samantha demanded, balking at the sight of the deserted building in front of her. Something held her back, a fear that Ralph had tricked her. She wished for Will—and quickly took the wish back. It helped knowing he was back at the cottage, safe. Why in God’s name would Zack be here?

  The structure had been built to resemble a lighthouse and according to the sign it had once been the Lighthouse Restaurant. A condemned warrant had been stapled over some of the letters of the wooden sign.

  “Zack is in there?”

  “Waiting for you,” Ralph said, grabbing hold of her arm.

  She studied the man for a moment, then the building. They
both gave her a chill. Ralph was large, and more muscle than brain. That reassured her some; she knew this wasn’t his doing. Someone else was calling the shots. Cassie? Belatedly she thought of another blond. Bebe. And Eric. What was it about them that bothered her other than the fact that Eric was a liar? And Bebe was a ditz? Maybe too much of a ditz?

  Shaking Ralph’s hand from her arm, she moved toward the dark shadow of the dilapidated building, a thousand questions whirling like fog in her head. Finally she would know who wanted the game bad enough to kill.

  It was dark as she stepped inside the building. Cold and wetness permeated the walls, along with the smell of dead, rotting things. She moved slowly, aware of the man behind her, afraid of the isolation of the place he’d brought her. More afraid of what she’d find once she got deep inside.

  “Nice that you could join us—” the woman’s voice came from the darkness. “Ralph, wait outside.”

  Sam squinted, not surprised to see a head of blond hair in the darkness. Cassie. Hadn’t she known Cassie was neck deep in all this?

  Her eyes adjusted slowly. Only a single dim light shone at the back of the building. It cast odd shadows through the empty shell of the lower floor.

  Cassie was sitting on a wooden crate. She didn’t appear to be armed. Nor did she move as Sam stepped deeper into the mammoth room. Odd.

  “Where is Zack?” Sam demanded as she approached her.

  Cassie still didn’t move. Nor did she answer. Sam felt cold creep up her spine. As she neared, she saw that Cassie’s eyes were open, large and full of fear—and drugs.

  “Don’t worry, Zack’s here.”

  Sam jumped at the sound of the voice behind her. It was the same female voice she’d heard when she’d entered the building—one she’d mistaken for Cassie’s in the hollowed-out, abandoned restaurant.

  She spun around. Sam’s heart stuck in her throat. For one startled moment she thought there were two Cassies, as a blond woman with a gun emerged from the shadows.

  Mercedes smiled. The color and cut of her blond wig were identical to Cassie’s. She shoved Zack out of the shadows. The boy stumbled and almost fell, then saw Sam and ran to her. He had a thick piece of tape over his mouth and his hands were bound in front of him.

  Sam caught him and hurriedly freed his hands, then eased the tape from his mouth. She pulled the boy into her arms. He hugged her tightly, his heart thumping like a sparrow’s. Small almost inaudible sobs tore from his lips.

  “Cassie needs a doctor,” she said, trying to keep the panic out of her voice as she faced Mercedes. “You’ve given her too much of whatever it was you used on her.”

  Mercedes laughed and pulled off the blond wig, exposing the brilliant red of her dyed hair. “Nice try. But it’s too late for you to worry about Cassie. Or me.” She seemed to notice Samantha searching the corners of darkness in the building. “If you’re looking for Lucas, I hate to be the one to tell you, but he’s been swimming with the fishes since Friday.”

  She hadn’t been looking for Lucas. But she had been looking for a man—certain Mercedes had one. Certain he would be the man who’d helped Mercedes put her in a bag and carry her to a waiting van.

  While the redhead kept the small-caliber gun trained on Sam, she pulled a small recorder from her pocket and depressed a button. Lucas’s voice filled the empty building.

  “Stop it,” Sam snapped, although Zack didn’t seem to react.

  Mercedes clicked it off, throwing the large empty building into cold silence again. “Modern technology, Samantha. I would think in your profession you’d be familiar with it. Lucas used his own voice in a lot of his first computer games. With just a little editing…” She smiled. “You don’t look well. Don’t tell me you still care,” Mercedes said tauntingly. “Surely after everything he did to you, you aren’t still in love with him?”

  Until Will, Sam had wondered if she’d even known what love was or had merely been in love with the idea of a husband and marriage and children. “Why are you doing this?” she asked, hugging Zack to her.

  Mercedes shot her a look. “You have to be kidding. Money and power. Is there anything else?” she asked with a laugh.

  Apparently not. But at least Mercedes had answered one question. This wasn’t about a computer game. Not even a bestselling one. “There is just one thing I don’t understand, why give me your piece of the game?”

  “To keep you from suspecting me. Except, I hate to bust your bubble, but it wasn’t the real CD. Worked though, didn’t it?” Mercedes asked with a satisfied smile. “I should have been an actress.”

  “You must have fooled Lucas,” she said. “At least for a while.”

  “Shut up,” Mercedes snarled. “At least he married me.”

  Sam took the hit, bull’s-eye. “Was anything you told me about Lucas true?”

  “Everything I told you was true. Except that I didn’t want the game.” She smiled. “I lied about that. So sue me.”

  Sam wished she had her purse and the .357 inside it, but Mercedes had that. She stuffed her hands into her pockets, her hand closed around the cell phone. She hit redial.

  “What good will your piece do, Mercedes, without the others?” Sam had a bad feeling that Eric no longer had his piece of the game any more than Buzz did. “Or did you kill Eric the way you did Buzz?” Answer the phone, Charley. Hear what’s going on.

  “Eric was much more reasonable than Buzz,” the redhead said with a smile. “He understands the value of money.”

  “What about Bebe?” Sam asked.

  “Bebe?” Mercedes looked confused. She didn’t know about Bebe?

  Sam felt her heart kick up a beat. “You know, Mercedes, you could have picked a little nicer place. An abandoned Lighthouse Restaurant? This really isn’t your style. Where the hell are we anyway? Down island?”

  Mercedes frowned, holding perfectly still, then her eyes widened. “Ralph! You searched her before you brought her in, right?”

  Ralph stuck his head in the door, looking confused. “Her pockets weren’t big enough for a gun.”

  Mercedes swore and aimed her weapon at Sam’s head. “Take your hands out of your pockets slowly.”

  Sam had no choice. She removed her hands from her pockets. “Hey, settle down. I was just cold.” She pretended to shiver.

  Mercedes swore again. “Ralph! Check her pockets.”

  Time was up. If Charley hadn’t gotten the message—

  “Just a cell phone,” Ralph said, pulling the compact phone out of her pocket.

  “Just a cell phone,” Mercedes mimicked before she grabbed the phone and listened for a moment, then punched it off. “You’d better hope that was one wasted call,” she said to Sam, her gaze hard as her heart and twice as cold. “Get out of here Ralph before I shoot you.”

  Sam held her breath as Mercedes hit redial. What would Mercedes do if she heard Charley answer the phone? But he didn’t answer. The line seemed to ring and ring. He wasn’t home. No doubt he hadn’t been home when Sam had tried to call either.

  Defeated, she watched Mercedes smile, turn off the phone and hurl it into a dark corner of the building. Something scampered in the phone’s wake.

  “Nice try, P.I.,” Mercedes said in a bad imitation of Bogart, “but I really don’t need you anymore. I got the pieces of the game on my own.” She waved the gun at Samantha. “Get out of the way, kid.”

  WILL PULLED THE FISHING BOAT up onto the beach, then stole through the darkness to the large lighthouse building at the end of a long spit of land. It stood in an older industrial area, remote and decaying. He moved through the shadows of rotting buildings until he could see Ralph standing guard outside. A light flickered through the cracks in the walls. An SUV was parked outside, empty.

  He moved closer, keeping an eye out for anything he could use as a weapon. He knew Samantha didn’t have her gun. It had been in her purse, the purse that Cassie had taken from her on the ferry. But if he knew Sam, she was anything but defenseless. He hoped.
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  He picked up a rock and a piece of wood the size of a club, then got as close to the lighthouse as he could before heaving the rock into the darkness off to his right.

  Ralph jerked around, fumbling to pull a pistol from his jacket. Will was on him quickly, hoping he could keep Ralph from warning whoever was inside the building of his presence.

  The wood cracked, sounding loud as it hit Ralph’s thick skull. The man barely flinched. For a moment, Will thought he was going to have to hit the guy again. But Ralph’s knees buckled, and he dropped like a demolished building.

  Will nudged him with a boot toe, but Ralph seemed to be out cold. At least for a while. Hurriedly, Will moved along the side of the building, avoiding gaps in the lumber where light leaked through, just in case someone was watching from inside. He could hear voices but they were too faint for him to make out who was talking.

  He reached the door. It stood ajar. He stopped to peer through the opening. He could see Samantha and Zack, could hear Zack crying, “No! No!”

  He heard another voice. Someone was holding a gun on Samantha and Zack.

  “No! Don’t hurt her!” Zack cried.

  Will grabbed the edge of the door, and would have gone busting in like the cavalry with only a piece of rotting wood and no plan— But he didn’t get the chance. The barrel of a gun poked into his back and a low voice warned him not to make a move.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Well, look who’s here,” Mercedes said almost cheerfully as she looked past Samantha and Zack to the doorway.

  Her sudden mood swing scared Sam almost as much as the gun in the woman’s manicured hand. She turned and her heart stopped at the sight of Will standing in the doorway. No! her mind screamed.

  He smiled at her, a smile that could have melted frozen pizza. Behind him Bobby Walker looked less friendly out of his tennis attire. And that definitely wasn’t a racket he clutched in his hand. Sam felt her heart sink.

  “Will doesn’t have anything to do with this,” she said, turning to Mercedes, who was obviously running this show.