“It’s a surprise.” He tied his shoes. “See you downstairs.”
Knowing I was in trouble when Conner didn’t try to kiss me before he left, I felt a clutching, sinking sensation in my chest. I had the urge to call Father, but I didn’t want him in harm’s way. Fire destroys. The Crussett family was my responsibility. I needed to deal with it.
With trembling hands, I forced myself to get out of bed. I showered, put on a pair of white linen slacks, a sleeveless blue silk blouse, and sandals. Fixing my hair, I decided I would try to refrain from using my newly acquired abilities until I discovered everything they knew. Also, I needed to be careful. I’d rather have Conner and his men suspect spiders than to learn what I had become. If they did, all Tegens would be in danger.
Just in case the Crussetts already knew too much, I had to be prepared to call Father. I opened my purse to move my cell phone to my pocket. It was gone. My heart beat frantically. I reached for my small suitcase, fearful it would be empty. I unlocked it and stared at the contents—nothing was missing. I took out the container of venotrolia and gulped down the liquid.
Outside the den, I said, “I’m ready.” Peeking in, I saw Conner sitting at his desk, wearing a black top that covered his arms and hung snuggly against his body. “Are we going scuba diving?”
“Yes,” he replied, approaching me.
“Let me get my suit,” I said and turned towards the stairs.
He gripped my arm. “I got you a new one. It’s on the boat.”
I swallowed hard, realizing I was trapped. “Maybe I should put on shorts?” I asked, thinking I might be able to escape through the upstairs balcony door.
“Everything’s on the boat. You don’t need anything.”
“Breakfast?”
“We’ll eat there.”
My pulse raced as I walked by his side with his arm around my shoulders to an awaiting limo.
“Why aren’t we going in your car?”
“Security.”
The driver opened the door. Fear swept through my body when I saw a blowtorch leaning against the seat on the far side.
“What’s that for?” I asked, climbing in.
“Brett Daborel left Billings two days ago. He might be in town. I’m prepared in case we cross him, and he intercedes with his weapon of choice.”
“Spiders? Why would he do that?”
“Just a precaution.”
The limo stopped at the gate. A man, wearing a black bodysuit with a holster hanging from his shoulder, got into the front passenger seat.
As we drove onto the road, I quickly scanned the nearby cars without seeing anyone I recognized. Conner sat quietly by my side. I noticed his clenched jaw. My eyes dropped to the bodysuit. The material wasn’t rubber. It appeared thicker and looked like a blend of canvas and plastic. It definitely was not a scuba suit. “We haven’t been scuba diving since we went to the South Pacific last year,” I said, pretending everything was okay.
“No, we haven’t,” he said in a stern tone without looking at me.
I laid my hand on his leg. “Is something wrong?”
He put his hand on top of mine. “We’re getting closer to discovering what happened to Cameron.”
Staring at the blowtorch, I asked, “Did you get some good information from Viltro?”
“Yes.” He lifted my wrist and touched my bracelet. “When the button is activated, in addition to letting someone know you’re in trouble it also becomes a mike. Cameron pushed his button. Viltro had a recording.”
Turning my face toward the window, I bit my lower lip. Before I attempted to do anything, I needed to know what was on the recording. Was Father in danger? I took a deep breath, slid closer to Conner, and held his hand. “Why was Viltro concerned about giving it to you?”
“He had a reason,” Conner said, gazing at my face with a sad, remorseful expression.
“Can we have a good time today, or are you going to worry about it?”
He lightly rubbed my hand. “I’m still planning on spending the rest of the day with you.”
The limo stopped next to an old brick warehouse with boarded up windows and surrounded by similar structures. Four two-foot blowtorches stood against the building along with a dozen men. They all wore bodysuits and were heavily armed. Each had a knife strapped to their thigh and a holster under their arms or on their back with either a pistol protruding or the handle of a rifle rising above their heads.
“We’re here,” Conner said, stepping out. He stuck a black pair of gloves along with a ski mask in his belt.
As my muscles tensed, I eased toward the car door. “This isn’t a boat.”
“It’s on the other side.” He clutched my arm as I got out.
“I don’t want to get my white pants dirty. I think I’ll walk around the building.”
“There are fences on the sides,” he said, leading me toward large, wooden, double doors.
Going into the structure, I knew I should have left when I had the chance. I just hoped no one else would suffer.
Five men followed us inside. The smell of moist, rotting wood lingered in the air. Dark stains and shallow puddles of murky water were scattered on the floor. In front of me stood a cluster of chairs, a stand with a bag dangling from it—like used for an intravenous feeding, and a table covered with electronic equipment. Next to it sat a heavyset, middle-aged man with gray speckled hair and a shaggy beard. He also wore a black bodysuit. As we got closer, I saw the chair by the table had leather straps attached to the arms and legs. I stopped. Conner tightened his grip on my arm, cutting off my circulation, and forced me to move forward.
My eyes swept around the large open space. Several huge electric fans were placed sporadically throughout the structure. Large wooden containers lined one wall with blowtorches spread out in front of them, approximately one every ten feet. On the opposite side were rows of crates, stacked almost to the ceiling. Three men stood by them with blowtorches adjacent to their feet. Two caldrons with flames rising above the rims abutted the double door at the rear. Two man clad in a black bodysuits stood next to them.
“Sara, sit down,” Conner said, gesturing toward the chair with the leather straps.
“But we’re not at the boat.”
“Sit,” he snapped.
“You lied to me,” I said, trying not to show any emotion.
Conner nodded toward two large, armed men. They each took one of my arms and forced me down into the chair.
“It wasn’t the first time,” he said, looking in my direction, yet avoiding eye contact.
“I know. You lied to me for three years: where you were going, what you did, and about your family. Yet, when you said you loved me, I believed you. Was that also a lie?” I asked, quivering my lower lip.
“This isn’t about us. It’s about the role you played in my brother’s death.”
I squinted and wrinkled my nose. “What did I do?”
Conner turned toward the bearded man. “Play it.”
The flip of a switched turned on the recorder. I anxiously waited as the bearded man adjusted knobs. It began with static, then came: “Sara, you have to wait,” a man said. I knew it was Father. “Why do I have to wait…Cameron has to stay alive while the venom circulates…you can eat …small abandoned warehouse will burn…don’t want anyone to know how Cameron and his men died.”
The tape recorder shut itself off with a loud, resonant click. The room was heavy with silence as Conner stared at me with eyes full of rage and sadness.
My body trembled. “That recording has been faked.” Even though I knew he wouldn’t believe me, all I could do was to spout blatant lies in desperation.
“I insisted it was to my father and the rest of my family. Then it was tested by a forensic analyst and found to be accurate.”
A brawny man with a scared cheek approached Conner. “Mr. Crussett, your father has arrived.”
Conner’s attention turned toward the door. Cedric, wearing a navy blue tailored suit wi
th a dress shirt and tie, stepped into the building. He was a tall, slender man with thinning gray hair and a narrow face. He strolled up to the table.
“It’s nice to see you again, Sara,” Cedric said, glaring at me. Then he looked at Conner. “How’s it going?”
“We just got started,” Conner answered.
Cedric pointed to a spot thirty feet from me. “There,” he said. The brawny man moved a chair to that location. Cedric sat down.
Conner continued, “Who is the man on the tape?”
“Someone who came to help me since you didn’t,” I hissed.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Cameron tried to kill me three times. You kept saying you’d keep him away from me, but you couldn’t. He wouldn’t listen to you.” I wanted him to know his brother’s lies.
“Three times?”
“Yes. You already know about Cameron having Saul take me to airport. That wasn’t where we were going. Saul tried to rape me. If it weren’t for Brett, I’d be dead. Where were you? Then twice in the hospital he tried to kidnap me. Twice. The first time, he had his men, dressed like hospital employees, pretend they were taking me to the lab. They pointed a gun at me and claimed if I didn’t cooperate they’d start shooting innocent people. They put me in an ambulance. Brett came to my rescue again. Where were you?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you couldn’t do anything. Cameron called all the shots. The last time, he used different people. They also were dressed like medical staff. I was taken to the morgue. Brett helped me get out alive. Where were you?” I shouted. “That recording has been sanitized. The beginning is missing. If it were there you’d know what really happened. He was going to have Gerard inject me with who knows what. He still believed I had the missing documents. I didn’t.”
I felt adrenaline pumping through my veins. I didn’t want to stop. “He killed my friend, Paula, because he didn’t believe she didn’t know where I was when I left. I didn’t tell anyone. She was innocent. Now she’s dead. Go on; tell me you didn’t know about it!” My heartbeat raced and tears trickled down my cheeks. I gasped for air, trying to calm down.
Conner stood silently, staring at me.
“Conner,” Cedric said, loudly.
I caught a glimpse of Cedric’s hostile eyes glaring at me as Conner went over to him. They talked quietly for a few minutes. Then Conner returned.
“Sara,” he began, “Let’s move on.”
“Why? Is the truth about your brother that unpleasant?” I snapped, rising to my feet.
“Strap her down,” he ordered in a loud, authoritative tone.
“No,” I protested, swinging my arms as two men forced me back in the seat. One held firmly onto my forearms while the other one secured the straps. I kicked my legs until they were bound tightly against the chair with my feet hovering just above the floor.
“What is your relationship with Fred Shoeman?”
“The guy who took the missing documents and was mentioned in the investigation report?”
“Yes. That’s him.”
“I talked to him sometimes when he was cleaning the pool.”
“Was he involved with Cameron’s death?”
“No.”
“Someone else was besides Brett. Who was it?” His jaw clenched.
“Brett’s strong. He didn’t need help.”
“Did Lindsey help him?”
“No. No one helped him.”
“I’m going to ask you nicely one more time. Who helped him?” he asked in a tone that sent a shiver up my spine.
“No one.” My eyes darted around the spectators. I wondered what was going to happen next.
Conner stepped towards me and flung his hand across my face.
My cheek burned. My lips trembled. “Conner.”
He pulled up a chair in front of me. He sat, raised his right ankle onto his left knee, and folded his arms across his chest. “Why are you forcing me to do this to you, Sara?”
Conner’s face was covered with signs of stress and grief caused by my betrayal. “No one helped Brett. Honest.”
He cast his eyes downward. “Sara.” He lifted his head and looked at the bearded man. “Give her a little persuasion.”
The bearded man attached square pads to my upper arms and above my ankles. Each pad had a wire leading to the steel box on the table. He leaned back in his chair and moved a lever on the box.
I screamed as the electrical current ran through my body. My head flung back and forth, my feet jerked violently, flinging my sandals off. My arms wiggled, causing the chair to bounce up and down. Feeling the hair stiffen on my hands and feet, I crunched my eyes tightly closed as I screamed again.
It stopped. My chin dropped to my chest. Perspiration streamed down my face. My blouse clung to my damp body. I felt numb and tried to focus my eyes. All I could see was a dark haze in front of me.
“I have an appointment,” I heard Cedric say. “Keep up the good work.” Heavy footsteps pounded against the concrete floor. It sounded like several men were leaving.
“Sara, are you ready to talk now?” Conner asked in a strained voice.
Images began to take form and I squinted, trying to see my hands. The microscopic Tegen hairs were relaxing. An odd, unfamiliar sensation crept through my body, like every one of my organs was tingling. The pain subsided. If I was to pretend to die from being electrocuted, it would be drawn-out and horrifying. I needed to find a way to free myself from being bound so I could be shot, attempting to escape. Could I pull at Conner’s heartstrings?
“Sara,” he said again, raising my chin. “Are you ready to talk?”
I looked at my tormentor, the man who had held me in his arms the night before. The man I once thought I would love forever. “I’ve told you the truth,” I sniffled softly. “I hurt all over. I can hardly hold my head up.” I swayed it back and forth.
He stretched out a hand and placed it on my cheek. I saw his sad, drooping eyes and the pain on his face.
“Don’t…don’t touch me,” I whimpered. “You said you’d protect me.”
His eyes became cloudy. “I’m not the only one who lied.” Conner turned to one of his men. “Wipe her face,” he said, stiffening his spine. He tapped his fingertips on the arm of his chair.
A man dabbed my face with a towel.
“Sara, you need to answer my questions.”
“Can I please have something to drink?” I asked in a voice just above a whisper. I bit my bottom lip. “Please.”
“Water,” Conner said, glancing over his shoulders.
The brawny man brought Conner a bottle of water. Conner removed the cap and held it against my lips.
I leaned my head back, took a sip, and allowed the water to run down chin. “It’s hard to drink like this. Can you untie my arms?” I looked down at my hand. “Never mind, I can’t raise my fingers.”
Conner’s eyes moved to the bearded man and then darted to the other men standing nearby. “Take a break.”
The man rose and walked to the entrance with the others.
Conner untied my arms and rubbed them with his hands. “Can you feel that?”
“A little.” I raised my arm slightly and dropped it in my lap.
Shaking his head, he took my hand. “The feeling will come back.”
Attempting to look forlorn with a solemn expression on my face, I slightly lowered my eyelids. “I know you’re going to kill me. My body hurts. Please do it now.” Tears flowed down my cheeks.
He picked up the towel on the table and dried my face. “You’re not going to die. You’ll feel better later.” He lifted my hand and kissed it. “I need you to answer some questions. Can you do that for me?”
I nodded. “Your father wants me dead.”
“We have an agreement,” he said, looking down and stroking my hands.
His eyes never met mine. I knew he was lying, but so was I.
“Are you ready?” he asked with tendernes
s in his tone.
“Yes.”
He released my hands and turned around. “Don.”
“Are you going to shock me again?” I asked, quavering my lips.
“Just answer the questions. You’ll be fine.” He patted my knee.
The bearded man returned to his seat behind the desk.
“Did Lindsey or Fred help Brett kill Cameron and his men?”
“No. In the morgue Brett threw spiders at them. They were all bitten.”
“It happened in the hospital morgue?”
I bobbed my head up and down.
“On the recording, why did Brett tell you to wait?”
“Because Cameron killed Paula I wanted to kick him. He was moving around too much so Brett wanted me to wait until Cameron was lying still.”
“What was the statement on the recording, ‘you can eat’ all about?”
“Brett was bringing me a box of chocolates when he got detoured to the morgue. He told me I could eat them while I waited for Cameron. I couldn’t as I watched Cameron and his men suffering.”
“He needed help moving the cars to the warehouse. Who helped him?” he asked with an edge to his voice.
“If someone helped him, I never saw them. He took me back to my room before the bodies were moved. Can’t you ask Lindsey or Fred if they helped him?”
“We’d ask them if we could find them. Do you know where they are?”
I shook my head.
“Two days ago you went shopping at the South Pointe mall.”
“Yes. You already know that.”
“At the same time you were there a woman was seen at the pier who matches your description. Was that you?”
I shook my head as I grasped the chair arms, preventing my hands from shaking. “No. Mont would have known if I left the mall.”
Conner reached over and laid his hand on mine. “A woman, matching your description, rented a car that day. She put down a cash deposit instead of providing a credit card. Was that you?”
“No.”
“What was the name of your friend who you had dinner with at the Sunlight Hotel?”
“Mary Gregor.”
Conner turned toward a short, auburn-haired man. “Check it.”
I swallowed hard and pressed my lips together, realizing I might have put Mary Gregor in danger—a complete stranger I just bumped into in the elevator.
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