by Rita Herron
Trey’s pulse jumped into overdrive and he felt himself moving in that direction even before his brain had given the order to take a step.
The customer took the glittering diamond bracelet Julie offered, studied it for about three seconds then rocketed toward the door.
“Stop him!” Julie cried.
All three security guards leaped into pursuit. Trey forced himself to stop in front of Julie’s counter. “You okay?” She looked seriously shaken.
She nodded woodenly, then shrugged. “He just took off.”
“I saw,” Trey assured her. He didn’t like this. He moved over to where Rebecca stood. “Has this ever happened before?” No complaints had been filed to his knowledge. Most retail businesses had the occasional shoplifter, but Saxon’s had never reported any incidents.
“No.” She shook her head vigorously. “Not once as far back as I can recall.”
Her answer only made that dread building in his gut worsen. “Let’s call it in.”
Her eyes widened in uncertainty as she considered what he meant by that. “All right.”
By the time the security guards had returned, empty-handed, the police had arrived. The final four customers had made their purchases and hurried off on their way. Rebecca had locked the front entrance since it was past closing time.
As the statements were taken, Trey stood near the back of the shop and assessed the situation. Something about the whole scene didn’t feel right. And then it hit him. With the snatch-and-run all attention had been focused on the front of the shop. That left the rear entrance wide open save for the hard-wired security. But any thief worth his salt knew how to get around electrical and magnetic barriers.
He moved through the door marked Employees Only and surveyed the rear of the building. Most of the back portion represented merchandise receiving and storage. A massive vault was ensconced against the wall separating the storage area from the sales floor. The area was well lit and extraordinarily neat.
But that was Rebecca Saxon. She would never permit anything to be out of place. So controlled, so reserved. He couldn’t help wondering if she would morph into a wild woman in bed.
One thing was certain beyond a shadow of a doubt, he would never know.
He checked the rear entrance. Locked. Then moved toward the small room that served as the owner’s private office.
“I’m ready to go.”
He turned just in time to see said owner burst through the Employees Only door. “You’ve locked up already?” he asked, surprised. That nagging instinct that something was off kilter just wouldn’t let go.
She nodded. “Officers Morris and Johnson escorted Julie and…” She rubbed at her forehead as if her head ached. “They escorted everyone to their cars.”
He should get her home. He glanced around the area one last time and still couldn’t shake that uneasy feeling.
“I’ll get my purse.”
She headed for her office but he stopped her. “I’ll get it.”
An exasperated breath huffed out of her. “Whatever. Let’s just go.”
Trey approached the office door with mounting apprehension. The hair on the back of his neck had risen on end. His hand went instinctively to the weapon tucked in his waistband.
He threw open the door, his weapon drawn.
The office was clear.
Breathing a definite burst of relief, he grabbed Rebecca’s purse and flipped off the light.
As he exited the office, pulling the door closed behind him, he said to her, “We’ll take an alternate route in case—”
“Drop the gun, Santa.”
Trey’s gaze swung to the man who’d spoken. He stood half a dozen feet away, a ski mask concealing his face, a sound-suppressed .9 mm aimed right at Trey’s face. Behind him was Rebecca. Another masked man had one arm around her throat, the muzzle of a similar weapon pressed to her forehead.
“Now, Santa. Drop it.”
Trey leaned forward very slowly and placed his weapon on the concrete floor.
“Now kick it this way,” the man ordered.
Trey gave the weapon a little nudge with his foot. It slid toward the man dressed in black.
With Trey’s weapon tucked into a utility belt, the armed bandit who appeared to be in charge said, “Now, let’s make this as simple as possible. You’re both going to die and you know it.”
He chuckled but the sound didn’t fully camouflage Rebecca’s gasp.
“The only variable,” he went on, “is whether you die now or later.” He angled his head and looked directly at Trey. “Any questions?”
Chapter Eight
Her body shook so hard it felt as if a tiny earthquake had erupted inside her. But Rebecca couldn’t stop it…couldn’t make herself hold still. One of the men had checked both her and Trey for additional weapons. The act had felt surreal, as if she were watching someone else’s dream. This couldn’t possibly be real.
But it was real…too real.
The man’s hairy arm was clamped around her shoulders. She was certain she would have bruises tomorrow.
If she lived to see tomorrow.
Her gaze settled on Trey’s dark blue eyes and she prayed he had a plan.
The arm around her tightened brutally. The muscular body like a brick wall pressed up behind her. “You better be listening, little lady. Full cooperation is all that’s standing between you and sudden death.”
She licked her lips and forced her head into an up and down motion.
“You,” he said close to her ear, “will open the vault and all the display cases. Then you’ll climb into the SUV with your friend here and go home.”
The lump of fear in her throat made speech almost impossible. “I understand,” she croaked. Please, God, make an opportunity for us to escape.
“One wrong move,” he said to Detective Murphy, “and it’s over.”
“Gotcha.”
Trey’s eyes held those of the man who’d spoken for several seconds, but Rebecca couldn’t read his expression. She did, however, feel the tension vibrating in the other man’s body during those few endless moments as he and Trey stared each other down. Her captor understood that Trey represented a significant threat.
Desperation churned in her stomach. Other than that brief exchange, Trey’s demeanor appeared docile…or maybe he just wanted the enemy to believe he’d surrendered. The air in her lungs hissed out raggedly. She just didn’t know. She closed her eyes and imagined all the other people who’d gone through this already. Had they prayed help would arrive in time? That somehow they would escape the inevitable?
Her eyes opened with her next thought. She would never know how it felt to be in love…or have children. Her whole life had been focused on this business for as long as she could remember.
For what?
What difference did it make now?
She was going to die.
There was no one left to care about anything she’d worked and sacrificed for.
Fury kindled deep in her belly.
She would not go down without a fight.
“You’ll have to release me if you want me to open the vault.”
Trey Murphy’s gaze swung back to her. The warning there was clear—no sudden moves.
Oddly, her shaking had ceased.
Her captor dragged her toward the vault, breaking the visual contact between her and Trey, but that was okay. She knew what she had to do.
She had to be strong.
Trey hoped like hell Rebecca wouldn’t do something stupid like attempt to outwit these murderers.
The escalation in the team’s movements and drastic altering of their M.O. spelled trouble with a capital D for desperation.
Serial robberies, like serial murders, were generally carried out in the same manner over and over until something or someone caused an unavoidable disruption of the status quo.
These guys clearly had a quota to make and the fact that law enforcement was getting wise to their game was the unavo
idable disruption. The Feds were getting involved. The lowlifes understood that finishing whatever was on their agenda this Christmas season was becoming more and more unlikely.
When Rebecca had met their every demand, the man in charge, his black ski mask still concealing all but his lips and his eyes, provided new instructions.
“In the back seat of your SUV is one of my men,” he explained. “He will accompany you back to Miss Saxon’s residence where another of my team waits. When we’re finished here, we’ll be along.”
Rebecca turned off the store lights before she and Trey prepared to exit the front entrance. One final statement of caution reached out to her through the darkness, “I will be watching. Careful or you’ll die on the sidewalk.”
When they’d moved outside and away from her shop, she steadied her voice enough to ask, “Is there anything we can do?”
Trey dragged off his cap and beard as he usually did, but was careful to keep his gaze on his vehicle parked half a block from the shop. “Not yet.” That was all he could risk telling her for fear she would somehow give away his only ace in the hole.
She grabbed his hand. He almost hesitated, but managed to keep moving.
“Just tell me you’ve got a plan,” she said softly, and thankfully, without looking his way.
“Damn straight,” he murmured. He squeezed her soft hand for reassurance.
As they passed the narrow alley between two shops several yards from the jewelry store, he noticed a dark sedan parked just far back enough to be out of sight. He couldn’t be sure the vehicle belonged to the men inside but it was a possibility since both shops were closed already.
Trey unlocked the SUV doors with the remote as they approached. It wasn’t until they’d settled inside and pulled away from the curb that the man hunkered in the rear floor area behind the front seats spoke.
“You know what you have to do.”
Trey didn’t bother answering what was clearly a rhetorical statement. And yes, he knew exactly what he had to do.
The drive to Rebecca’s home was made in complete silence. Trey was careful to stay within the posted speed limits so as not to attract unnecessary attention. No mistakes. No abrupt moves. He glanced at Rebecca. He just hoped he could count on her for the same. She was a woman accustomed to being in control of her own destiny.
Just for tonight he needed her to follow his lead. To let someone else be in charge.
“Pull into the garage,” the man ordered.
Trey pressed the button on the remote opener he’d taken from Rebecca’s car the day he’d started driving her into town. The center of the three garage doors slowly lifted.
When he’d pulled inside, the man moved up into the back seat. Trey caught a glimpse of him in the rearview mirror. He wore a black ski mask just like the others.
“Get out and go inside as if this were any other night.”
Her movements jerky, Rebecca opened her door and the interior light flickered on. Before she could slip out, Trey grabbed her by the arm and pulled her around to him. When she opened her mouth to speak, he kissed her. She resisted a little at first but swiftly surrendered.
For a single moment he allowed himself to relish the taste of her. Sweet. Hot. And so damned soft. Those lush lips felt just as amazing as he’d imagined they would.
“Get out!”
Rebecca pulled back at the harsh command. Trey gave her what he hoped was a trust me look before letting go of her arm and getting out.
The blood rushing through her veins so fast it screamed in her ears, Rebecca unlocked and opened the door leading from her garage to the mudroom.
Trey came in right behind her, along with the man holding the gun on him.
Only then did Rebecca notice that her security alarm had been turned off. And there was another man, dressed in black and wearing a ski mask just like the others, waiting in her kitchen doorway. But this one carried a mean-looking rifle rather than a handgun. How could they do this? How did they know her security code?
Unbelievable.
“In the den,” the new man ordered with a wave of his rifle.
Her knees weak and her legs trembling, Rebecca led the way. She sat on her sofa and watched as Trey took a seat directly across the coffee table from her. She wondered vaguely why he didn’t sit next to her. When he caught her looking at him, she looked away. Her cheeks burned with the memory of that kiss…why had he done that?
Not that she hadn’t enjoyed it…as best she could under the circumstances. God, she was losing it here.
“Now we wait,” one of the men, the one who’d ridden in the SUV with them Rebecca felt reasonably sure judging by his voice, announced.
While the two killers paced the room, circling their position, Rebecca allowed herself to analyze that kiss just a little. It was dumb, she knew. They would probably be dead within the hour and here she was obsessing about a kiss that had lasted all of five seconds. Remembered warmth chased away some of the chill that had invaded her bones.
His lips were softer than she’d imagined. She’d noticed on more than one occasion that they were certainly full for a man but she just hadn’t expected the softness or the untamed urgency of his taste. He’d made her want the kiss to go on and on. But then, she hadn’t exactly been thinking straight just then, or now for that matter.
“They’re closing in on you. You know that, don’t you?”
Rebecca’s head came up at the question. What in the world was Trey doing? Was he trying to antagonize the killers?
One of the men, the one with the rifle, walked straight up to Trey, shoved the business end of the weapon in his face. “Keep you mouth shut, Santa.”
Trey shrugged his velvet-clad shoulders. “Just seems like you’d know when enough is enough. That’s all I’m saying. I’d be getting the hell out of the state of Georgia.”
The man laughed, the sound filled with malice. “Now why the hell would I care what a dead man says?”
Trey looked at the rifle muzzle and smiled. “I guess you have a point.”
In an unexpected maneuver, the butt of the rifle suddenly slammed into Trey’s face, landing squarely against his right jaw. Rebecca’s heart bumped against her sternum and she lunged toward Trey.
“Don’t move,” the man snarled, turning the weapon on her without missing a beat.
Her gaze moved to Trey, surveyed the damage. No blood, but there would definitely be swelling. She asked him with her eyes why he’d done such a fool thing. Didn’t he know better than to provoke these killers? He just looked away, as if he didn’t have the answer she sought.
She’d prayed he had a plan, but surely that hadn’t been it. A sinking feeling in the very pit of her stomach made her want to throw up.
They were going to die.
Trey watched the two men circle like buzzards. When one looked at his watch and then nodded to the other, he figured the work at the jewelry shop was nearing completion. The others would be on their way by now.
But they couldn’t come here. Trey understood that with complete certainty. Wherever the other two would go from the shop, it wouldn’t be to this residence. No way. Too big of a risk. The M.O. had changed completely. These two would rendezvous with their partners and the jewels somewhere far away from the scenes of the crime.
With that thought Trey realized that in less than three hours it would be Christmas Eve.
Saxon’s was the final hit.
And these guys would be long gone.
His gaze moved to Rebecca. They were supposed to be the last to die this holiday season.
His jaw clenched. Not on his watch, by God.
The man with the .9 mm stopped next to the sofa where Rebecca sat. “Stand up,” he ordered.
Trey’s pulse hammered into overdrive.
“Wait.” He stood. “Let her go. I’m a cop. Take me with you. I can guarantee your exit out of here. I know all the planned surveillance, all the road blocks.”
The guy laughed. “But I don’t nee
d your guarantee or your input.” His attention turned back to Rebecca. “I said, get up!”
“But you see,” Trey said, pulling his gaze back to him, “in six minutes the patrol car will come by for its hourly check. I’ll bet you didn’t know that. If I don’t give the signal, they’ll know something is wrong. Can you get clear of Atlanta P.D.’s reach in six minutes?”