Cold Revenge

by Mary Stone

  The girl chattered away while Katarina drove, passing ranch-style homes on sprawling green lots with the Grand Tetons looming in the distance. Her left leg kept jiggling. Nerves. Katarina’s first instinct to the playdate invite had been to say “hell no” and whisk her daughter straight back home where she could protect her. But the pleading expression in Bethany’s eyes had overruled everything else. She wanted Bethany to have as normal of a life as possible. Normal meant playdates with classmates.

  Her hands tightened on the wheel before relaxing. With effort. Hard to let go when she’d just gotten her baby back. The last thing Katarina remembered about Bethany’s birth was going into labor. Even at sixteen, she was no stranger to pain, but the intensity of the contractions had still caught her off guard. She remembered the feeling. Like a vice clamping down on her pelvis and wrenching her bones apart.

  She’d gone into labor with Bethany camped out in her uterus and woken afterward to a flatter stomach, swollen genitals, and no baby. No cuddling the tiny infant, no stroking the soft baby fuzz on her head. Katarina hadn’t even gotten to name her daughter before Kingsley snatched her away.

  Katarina was so lost in memories, she passed the house the first time around. After a quick U-turn in a neighbor’s driveway, she guided the car back to Dakota’s address. Bethany waited for Katarina to open her door before bounding out of the car and skipping a few steps ahead. She stopped, glanced over her shoulder, and waved. “Hurry up, slowpoke!”

  Katarina smiled and shook her head. Patience was a trait they’d need to work on.

  The girl waited for Katarina to catch up, and once she did, slipped her little hand into Katarina’s. The simple gesture flooded Katarina’s heart once again, swelling her chest with emotions so strong they almost hurt. Together, they walked up the stone path to a front door painted a cheerful yellow. A handmade winter wreath filled with greenery, pinecones, and red berries hung at eye-level.

  Katarina eyed the decoration. If cleaning didn’t work out, maybe she’d give crafting a shot. Become one of those DIY Pinterest people and set up her own Etsy shop.

  Before the visual of glue guns and beads strewn all over her bedroom floor could depress Katarina too much, the yellow door flew open.

  “Come on! Mom made me wait to eat a cookie until you got here.” A girl with a long, dark braid grabbed Bethany’s hand and pulled her inside. Giggles trailed the pair as they disappeared into the house without so much as a goodbye.

  Katarina snorted while a tall, dark-haired woman appeared in the doorway, smiling.

  “Hi, I’m Kelly, Dakota’s mom. You must be Bethany’s mom.”

  “Katrina. Nice to meet you.”

  Of course, Katarina already knew Dakota’s mom’s name. Along with her dad’s name, where he worked, their previous known addresses, and everything else she found with a little online research. Even their criminal history, which was limited to the dad’s DUI from fifteen years ago. If she’d found a hint of anything worse, Bethany wouldn’t be there at all.

  After exchanging a few meaningless pleasantries that left Katarina itching to leave, the other woman finally waved her off. “See you at six.”

  Katarina drove away with the next several hours wide-open and no way to fill them. She could go home, but then what? More tidying things that had already been organized one time too many? Without her daughter there, the place was just lonely. Without Bethany, her mind went in too many directions. Dangerous directions.

  She waited for a woman and a little boy on bikes to cross the street, drumming her fingers on the wheel. There had to be a less mind-numbing method to pass the time than cleaning. Some way to entertain herself in this quiet little pissant town.

  Twenty minutes of roaming the streets didn’t lead her any closer to finding entertainment, though. So far, the only place where she didn’t feel like she might die a slow, painful death from boredom was the bar from yesterday. Bob’s.

  She drummed her fingers on the wheel again, then shrugged. Why not? A few turns later, she pulled into the same parking space. She recognized two of the cars parked nearby from yesterday. Not that Katarina was looking.

  Doesn’t matter if he’s here or not. I’m only here to kill time.

  That was what she told herself, anyway. Right up until she wrenched open the door.

  A drum solo blasted her as soon as she stepped inside, but her gaze raced by the live band in search of a familiar face. She spotted him sitting at the same table as before, and a tingle shot up her spine.

  Pretending not to notice the way he tracked her as she approached the bar, Katarina headed straight for the same stool she’d occupied yesterday. Unlike last time, five of the other eight seats behind the bar were taken, and most of the tables were full. The band on the little stage near the front finished their number to scattered applause and a few hoots.

  With a high-pitched wail, the electric guitarist kicked off their next song. It was a classic rock number that sounded vaguely familiar to Katarina. The lead singer jumped in with his raspy voice a few beats later, and she watched him strut around the stage, his oversized mustache wobbling with each step.

  Near the end of the first song, Katarina sensed a presence hovering over her left shoulder. She knew without looking who stood there, and another tingle raced across her back. Their gazes met, and the man smiled. A slow, lazy grin that landed somewhere south of Katarina’s belly button.

  When the song ended and applause broke out, Clayne leaned in. “You never called.”

  Katarina shrugged. “Didn’t have a reason to yet.”

  He grinned and once again straddled the empty barstool next to her without waiting for an invitation. “That ‘yet’ sounds real promising.” He winked. “So, what do you do for a living?”

  Beat up brooms and fantasize about stabbing dog walkers.

  “Nothing right now. I’m between jobs.”

  Katarina knew better than to offer up unnecessary information. And she couldn’t produce a single reason why Clayne needed to know about Bethany. Or WITSEC. “What about you? I read your card, Miller Distributing. Like the beer company, or are you more into drugs?”

  Same as yesterday, Clayne didn’t so much as flinch at her forwardness. “Drugs, mostly. Plus a few other ventures that maybe I’ll tell you about one day…if you stick around long enough.”

  Katarina blinked. Clayne’s response surprised her, and she wasn’t used to men being surprising. Not the part where he was involved in drugs, because that came as no shock at all.

  No, the shock stemmed from his openness about his illegal activities. She crossed her arms and tilted her head. Clayne Miller was either more arrogant, more powerful, or more stupid than she’d originally suspected, or some combination of all three. In spite of herself, Katarina was dying to find out which one.

  Using her right hand, she reached out and smoothed his flannel shirt down his chest. “Now, why would you up and tell me a thing like that?”

  Clayne captured her stray hand with his own, and locking his gaze onto hers, slowly lifted it to his mouth. He kissed her fingertips, one after the next. The touch of his mouth to her skin sent fire racing up Katarina’s arm, and she had to fight off a shiver.

  When Clayne finished, he replaced her hand on his chest. “When you run the show long enough, you stop sweating the little stuff. I get to decide whether to tell someone or not, and darlin’, I knew the moment you first walked into the bar and cased the joint that you were a woman who shared my wavelength.”

  Katarina playfully stuck out her lower lip. “And here I thought I was being so discrete.”

  He reached over and smoothed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m sure you were discrete to everyone else in this bar. Just not me. Now, how about you let me buy you that drink today?”

  She considered him for a moment. Was she ready to do this? Really do this?

  Although she’d spent a number of years seducing men, her encounters rarely got to the point where sex was involved.
In fact, Katarina couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept with a man. Most had repulsed her, and she’d hated the feeling of being used.

  She didn’t feel that way now.

  She licked her lips. “Sure. I’ll take a shot. Tequila.”

  Clayne slapped his hand on the bar. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.” He waved the bartender down. “Hey, Roy, two tequilas shots. Make them top-shelf.”

  “You got it.”

  Roy pulled a blue bottle down from the highest shelf and poured two generous shots of clear liquid. He topped the short glasses off with a lime.

  Clayne raised his shot to Katarina, so she lifted hers too. “Here’s to new friends. Cheers.”

  After the glasses clinked together, Clayne tossed his tequila back. Katarina did the same. The spirit filled her mouth with salt before burning a path down her throat. She finished the shot off with a squirt of lime.

  When she licked the last of the salt from her lips, Clayne followed the motion with heavy-lidded eyes. “What d’ya say we take off and head to my place?”

  “Okay.”

  The word slipped out without her permission, leaving Katarina stunned. Really? Go home with him? She might be new to this mother stuff, but even she felt pretty certain that hooking up with strangers in bars wasn’t what typical moms did while their kids watched Mulan at a playdate. But the fire heating her belly didn’t care.

  She slid off her barstool and lifted an eyebrow. “I’m ready when you are.”

  As Clayne threw a twenty on the bar and led her out of the area, Katarina silently scoffed. Screw typical moms. Katarina had never been a typical anything, and she couldn’t come up with a good reason to start now.

  13

  The pungent odor of sweat mixed with fear greeted me when I strolled into the small room, compliments of the man seated in the middle. Jonah. Not that his name mattered, of course.

  Black rope circled around Jonah’s wrists and feet, binding him to the chair while a sack covered his head and face. His body slumped against the chair back, suggesting that our guest was asleep. How disappointing.

  I switched my attention to the large monitor on the desk that ran along the back wall. The screen was divided into four equal quarters, with a different video view in each. Gabe’s new safe house, from multiple angles. Perfect. I smiled before turning back to the man, who sat very calm and still.

  That wouldn’t do at all.

  Whack!

  I kicked out, and my work boot slammed into the closest chair leg, jostling Jonah awake. He shrieked and bolted upright before thrashing around and tugging against the expertly knotted ropes. “Who’s there? Please, help me! Get me out of here!”

  I plucked the sack off his head. When his wild gaze focused on me, I lifted a finger to my mouth. “Shh, there’s no reason to shout. No one else is around for miles, so I suggest you save your breath.”

  I stepped forward, examining his features. Pretty, with his high cheekbones and dark hair, but not Gabe pretty. A pity, but he’d do.

  The stranger’s gray eyes widened when he processed my words. “What?” He glanced over his shoulder and spotted Milos, who waved. Jonah trembled before turning back to me. Perspiration glistened above his upper lip. “I don’t know what’s happening, but you have the wrong person, I swear! I didn’t do anything! Please, let me go. I won’t say a word.”

  “Oh, don’t fret. We know you didn’t do anything wrong.” I waited until hope filled the man’s gray eyes. “We needed a volunteer, and you were in the right place at the wrong time. Although, in your mind, I guess this is more of a wrong place-wrong time scenario. Funny how that works, isn’t it?”

  Dark circles formed on the underarms of his gray t-shirt. “No. No, no, no.”

  He shook his head back and forth, and I sighed. Silly boy. As if theatrics might help. His moans continued to fill the room as I turned to Milos. “Has the package been delivered?”

  Milos tapped the phone in his hand and nodded. “Yes, sir. It’s done.”

  “Wonderful.” The completed delivery meant Gabe had received and activated the smartphone we’d sent, right to the front porch of his new safe house. I paused, tapping my chin. Although, on second thought, the fact that we’d managed to locate and send Gabe packages meant that the house wasn’t so safe after all.

  I enjoyed my own little joke. Delivering the device had been a risk, but one that had paid off. If that marshal who babysat Gabe had been home to intercept our shipment, we would have had a problem. Milos had assured me that, once Gabe was moved, the marshal presence would diminish. Yet again, Milos had come through for me.

  Across the room, I caught Milos watching me with his gleaming, predatory eyes, and my chest filled with warmth. I enjoyed the man’s quiet, dependable presence. My smile slipped away, concern taking over. As long as he didn’t end up disappointing me like all the others. I’d hate to add yet another name to my revenge list.

  A whimper interrupted my rumination, yanking my attention back to the man in the chair. He didn’t know it yet, but he would play a pivotal role in my plan to get even with Gabe. Pulling the burner phone I’d had Milos purchase from my pocket, I strolled over to the tripod positioned a few feet away from our guest. Time to get started.

  A thrill shivered across my skin as I snapped the phone into the tripod and tapped the buttons to pull up the video chat. Another tap and the app started pinging Gabe’s smartphone. I scooted out of the camera’s frame, stroking my sculpted cheek with a growing smile. My new face was a work of art, and as such, deserved a special unveiling. Gabe would have to wait a little longer to sneak a glimpse of Dr. Sandoval’s brilliance.

  Chime!

  My hands itched with excitement when the burner phone signaled that someone on the other end had accepted the video call. From my hiding spot, I peered at the screen, almost gasping when his face popped into view.

  Gabe was even more beautiful than I’d remembered every night when I fantasized about different ways to end his traitorous, deceptive life. Breathtaking, with those full lips and chiseled cheekbones. Every bit topped off to perfection by a head of dark curls that, even now, I longed to stroke.

  My face grew hot. How dare he look so good after the agony his betrayal had spawned? I studied him a little longer through the rectangular screen, and the rage subsided a notch. Upon closer inspection, the purple smudges under his brown eyes assured me that he’d suffered more than one sleepless night recently, and his fluttering hands testified to his increased stress level.

  Perfect. Now, we could begin.

  “Are you alone? Be honest. You know I already know the answer.”

  Gabe flinched at the sound of my voice. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. “Y-yes.”

  “Good, because I want us to play a little game. But before we do, it’s only fair that I let you know that we’re monitoring your every movement. If you attempt to alert anyone, we’ll know, and that will result in some very serious consequences for you. We don’t want that to happen, do we?”

  On the screen, Gabe’s chin quivered, his eyes brimming with tears. “No.”

  His image began to blur, and I realized it was because his hand was trembling so badly. “Please put the phone down on a steady surface, then back far enough away that I can see you better.”

  It took him a few moments to get the lens just right, and it was worth the extra time when he dropped into a chair a few feet from wherever he’d propped his phone.

  Better. So much better.

  I nodded, pleased with his agreeableness so far. “Clever boy. Oh, and another important item.” I tapped a button on the screen, changing the camera’s view from the door behind us to the man strapped to the chair. “If you hang up before I say the game is over, yet another person will die because of you.”

  Gabe released a choked gasp while I walked to the mask awaiting me on the desk. After pulling the fabric over my head, I slid my hands into a pair of gloves and my arms through the sleeves of a
n oversized coat to better disguise my shape. Once I was ready, I nodded to Milos, who returned my nod and hit record on the iPad he’d set up earlier.

  Planning ahead for this momentous occasion freed me up now to multi-task. I could terrorize Gabe, and at the same time, create a separate video to sell on the dark web. No sense in wasting a perfectly good opportunity to make some quick cash. Or bitcoin, to be precise. My idea of the perfect win-win.

  Whistling a jaunty tune, I selected a razor-sharp knife from several options Milos had splayed out for me and approached the man in the chair. “I’m sure you have an inkling of which game we’re going to play by now, dear Gabe, so I’ll go ahead and start us off.” I tapped a gloved hand to my masked chin. “Where to begin, though, when there are so many delightful options?” I turned to face Gabe more fully. “I’m feeling rather generous today, so I’ll let you choose.”

  Gabe wavered in his chair, and I thought he might be on the verge of passing out. He managed to stay upright but didn’t say a word.

  I smiled, though he couldn’t see my expression behind the mask. “Tough decision, I know, dear Gabe. Maybe multiple choice will prove easier?” I ran the very tip of the blade lightly down my captive’s ear. “Gabe, should I start here or maybe a finger?”

  Jonah responded before Gabe could. “Are you crazy? Neither, man. Tell him neither. Call the police. Call for help.”

  Irritated with the interruption, I stuffed the sack that had previously been on the man’s head into his mouth. From where he leaned against the wall, Milos chuckled.

  Turning my attention back to Gabe, I asked him the question again. “Ear or finger, my pretty?”

  My former assistant’s entire body was shaking as he stared in wide-eyed disbelief. When he said nothing, I raised the knife to the ear.

  “Finger,” Gabe screamed.

  Elation washed through my every cell. I loved when they participated. The joy was indescribable.

  “As you wish, my dearest Gabe.”

  The man’s gray eyes fell on the gleaming blade as I grabbed his closest hand. The middle finger, I decided, and extended the digit until I had a clear target. A glint of silver flashed as metal caught the fluorescent lights overhead. I kept my movements slow, catering to the audience witnessing this live and to those who would witness it later. Suspense tripled their enjoyment.