Cold Highway: Ellie Kline Series: Book Four

by Stone, Mary

  Thump.

  Thump.

  Thump.

  The rhythmic beating of Matt Loomis’s heart pulsed in his ears as he struggled to break out of the fog of sleep. His head throbbed with every beat, nausea rising up his throat as he struggled to draw a breath in through his parched throat.

  He shifted and groaned as pain lanced through his head and down his spine. Blinking to clear his vision, the backs of his eyelids were like sandpaper, dry and gritty. Opening his eyes, he was blinded by a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling of an unfamiliar dreary room.

  Tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, he tried to swallow once, then again. Despite his efforts, he remained parched, his lungs scorched with every breath, head pounding.

  He tried to remember how he’d come to be in such a condition, but his mind seemed to be draped in fog. Cold seeped through the thin blanket beneath him, which did little to cushion his body from the hard concrete. Concrete?

  Matt’s eyes were growing heavy, but he forced them open. His heart beat faster, increasing the throbbing in his head as he took in his surroundings. The floor beneath him was smooth concrete, with a small drain nearby covered with a rusted grate. A foul odor Matt couldn’t place wafted up from below. He gagged, his already twisted stomach sensitive to every nuance.

  Closing his eyes, he rolled onto his side, wincing when his left arm brushed the floor. He felt the tender spot, surprised to find a lump under a band aid, and some sort of residue that had seeped out of the small bandage.

  What the hell?

  He had meant to speak the words, but he was so feeble, his throat so dry that every breath was torture. Even if he could form words, his thoughts were so muddled, he could hardly make sense of what he was seeing.

  Where was he? And why was his brain so foggy?

  Footsteps caught his attention, echoing through the space. He turned toward the sound, and the movement sent splitting pain up his neck, piercing his forehead. Groaning, hot tears welled as the footsteps slowed and stopped near him.

  “Look who’s awake. It’s Matt Loomis.” The woman’s voice was familiar, her mocking tone stirring rage within him. “Are you feeling lucky today?”

  Was she responsible for this? He would make sure she paid for every second of his misery with her own. He cleared his throat and licked his lips. “I need water.”

  “I’m sure you do.” The dark-haired beauty snapped her fingers. “Brutus, get our guest some water.”

  Heavy boot-clad feet thumped over the floor in a rush, adding to the torturous pain in Matt’s head. Metal clanged, then a large hand cupped Matt’s chin and a saucer of water was thrust against his lips and tilted downward.

  Matt sputtered, trying to drink, but the water came too fast. Striking out with his hands, he tried to tip the dish to slow the liquid, but his arms were too weak. “Something…something’s wrong.”

  “The ketamine is still working its way out of your system. Don’t worry, you’ll be up and on your feet in no time. Not that you can go anywhere.” She laughed, snapping her fingers again. “Brutus, that’s enough water. Put the food in his cage before the drugs wear off.”

  “Yes, Katarina.”

  Katarina! The instant he heard the name, his memory came rushing back.

  The gorgeous woman in front of the little red car on the side of the road.

  The way her bare toes had inspired images of hours spent torturing the beauty from her perfect face.

  Coming around the curve to find spike strips in the road.

  Volts of electricity slicing through him.

  Then darkness.

  “You bitch.”

  “Aw, you remember.” Her mocking tone would come back to haunt her, he would make sure of that.

  “You’ll pay.”

  “Actually, I’ll collect the money, but you’re close. If you’re lucky, you’ll end up with someone who wants to cherish their investment for more than a few minutes.” His gaze traveled up the long legs he would mark. Up over curves that he would use in inventive ways to make her scream. To her bright face, long brown hair framing it as she shrugged, white teeth gleaming in a wide smile. “What they do with you after the funds clear isn’t my issue.”

  Brutus set a paper plate in front of him on the floor—a simple sandwich with square cheese that resembled plastic more than food, surrounded by half-withered baby carrots and a few browned slices of apples. “Eat up. You’ll need your strength.”

  By the time Matt managed to prop his head up with his arm, Brutus was out the door. Gate.

  Matt blinked the world into focus, his jaw going slack as he realized he was inside a chain-link cage much like the kennel runs his father had kept for his hunting dogs. But this run was indoors, and there were more cages on either side of him and across a short aisle. “What the hell.”

  “Welcome to your temporary home.” Katarina spread her arms wide. “It’s not much, but then you’re only here for a few days at most. Don’t worry, you’ll have company soon. Now, eat before the food spoils. You don’t want to starve.”

  “Screw you,” he spat, wishing he could get up off the floor and wrap his hands around her neck.

  “Oh, feisty. We have clients who like that.” She rubbed her fingers together in the universal sign for money, turned, and waved over her shoulder as she walked away. “Don’t let the food go to waste, darling.”

  Matt glared at her as she strutted away, his rage beginning to push through the pain so that he was able to prop himself up on one elbow. He scanned his surroundings, and his heart sank as he realized the kennel had been topped with more chain-link, making it impossible to climb out.

  How had things gotten so twisted that he’d gone from the hunter to the prey?

  Sweat popped out on his forehead. He was trapped—at least until he could find a way out of this cage. There had to be a weakness somewhere, and when he found it, he was going to make his escape.

  But he wouldn’t run and hide—no.

  When Matt freed himself, he was going to find Katarina.

  And he was going to make her repay every ounce of pain he experienced.

  With her dying breath, she would regret the day she tricked him. Then he would take care of her friend, Brutus. The pair didn’t know who they were messing with.

  He took a big bite of his sandwich. Katarina was right. He needed to keep up his strength because he had work to do.

  The bitch had fooled him once.

  It wouldn’t happen again.

  16

  Katarina plopped down in her office chair, spinning in a circle. Leaning back to stare up at the ceiling, she allowed herself a self-indulgent smile. “It’s all coming together, Brutus. I can feel it.”

  She almost couldn’t believe it had been so easy to snatch a half a mill out of Nick’s hands, not to mention the satisfaction it brought, fleecing Ellie’s longtime boyfriend. Too bad it couldn’t last. So far, he’d been fooled, and she’d been able to head him off at the pass, but Nicky boy wasn’t as stupid as she’d like him to be.

  She snickered as she thought of the perfect ending to her partnership with Nick Greene. Ellie Kline’s perfect boyfriend was also blond-haired and blue-eyed, which brought the most at auction. Wasn’t Nicky boy just turning out to be a cash cow?

  Like Matt Loomis, Nick wasn’t a young boy, which most of her clients liked. But there was an untapped niche of buyers who wanted older toys to play with. Or to snuff. Or perform Daddy games with. It didn’t matter.

  Katarina smiled. She was very good at filling untapped niches.

  Katarina had always known she had it in her to do genius-like work. All she’d needed was a chance to spread her wings.

  “Your hard work is paying off.” Brutus handed her the salad she’d sent him off to make after he fed her valuables.

  She graced him with a smile. He always knew what to say. Brutus was starting to grow on her, and more than once she’d considered making him her permanent personal assistant. Making himself useful
was working in his favor, and even though he was gullible and a bit of an oaf, he was quite smart and resourceful. Already, he’d repaired most of the kennel runs and managed to get the hot water working. It wasn’t much, but hot water made living at the facility bearable.

  A small living quarters in the east wing featured a single room apartment with a kitchenette and bathroom. The main building had showers, but they were community-style with low walls that stopped at shoulder height. Katarina shuddered at the thought of reducing herself to using one. They were suitable for Brutus, who had found comfort sleeping on the couch in the office. The bank of security screens casting a greenish glow at night would’ve driven Katarina mad if she’d lowered herself to sleeping in the office.

  Like the furniture in her living quarters, the couch was brand new, purchased with stolen funds dog-eared to build her empire in the abandoned building on the secluded property. The only other furniture in the office was a desk—which had been there when they moved in—and two chairs. She never sat on the couch, having developed an aversion to the furniture where Brutus spent his nights doing who knew what.

  Wrinkling her nose, she took another bite of salad, casting a glance at the refrigerator in the corner of the room. “I should get some groceries for the merchandise.” Her tone was flippant as she thought out loud. She did need an actual plan to feed their captive something more nutritious than what he’d been given.

  “I can do it for you, if you like?”

  Katarina shook her head. “You need to be here to watch over him. And there will be more soon.”

  Brutus smiled, his own meal balanced on his lap instead of taking up space on her desk. He’d learned quickly that he and Katarina were not equals, a role he seemed quite comfortable with. One stern look from her as he’d approached her space to share a meal was all it had taken. His willingness to bow to her every whim was one of the many reasons she was considering keeping him around longer than she’d planned.

  “How many?”

  “At least a dozen, but I’m still waiting on my street team to get back to me.”

  “If you need me here, then I will stay here.” He smiled, and a dreaminess crept over his expression.

  Katarina scowled, not even wanting to know what was going on in his head. “What I need is for you to leave the office so I can make a call.” She waved him away like she would shoo a dog. “Check the grounds or something.”

  He gave an almost imperceptible bow and hurried away, leaving her to blissful silence. Finishing the last bites of salad, she took out her phone and dialed.

  A male voice picked up right away. “Hello?”

  “It’s Katarina. We need to talk.”

  His breath hissed as he inhaled sharply. “I told you, I’m not taking the risk. People who anger the master don’t live to tell about it.”

  “The master is dead.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Katarina sighed, leaning back in the chair and closing her eyes. Too bad not everyone was as pliable as Brutus. “I’m not sure what there is not to believe. That crazy redheaded bitch attacked him, and he was badly injured. Surely you’ve heard about what happened?”

  “Of course.” The words came out with a hint of sarcasm, which made her smile.

  She forced the amusement away. “And you saw what those people did to Dr. Powell?”

  He cleared his throat. “Yes. Of course.”

  “All right, then. You think Powell was killed, and the master was spared?”

  “Where is his body?”

  She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “They haven’t found it yet, but I saw him with my own eyes. He wandered out of the warehouse bleeding everywhere and stumbled into the woods. Perhaps he was eaten by wolves.”

  She grinned, enjoying the play on words and holding back a giggle. Kingsley was horribly injured, and a wolf had gotten to him, but he’d survived, flying off to another country to seek medical attention. She knew, because she drove him to the airport, and she was the wolf.

  “That’s not funny. And we don’t have wolves here.”

  She rolled her eyes. At this rate she was going to end up with eye strain. “No one could survive the type of injuries he had without immediate medical attention.”

  “I don’t know. You might not believe what the human body can be put through before it expires.”

  “Look, I’m not asking you for much, really. Just do what you’ve been doing for Kingsley. I’ll pay you what he paid you. I just need you to be the eyes and ears of The Den.”

  Truth be known, she was a little nervous, the deeper she got into her plans. Kingsley hadn’t told her where he was going. She could only plan for any eventuality. If Kingsley showed up back in the states wanting what was his, she would just have to kill him.

  “What’s ‘the den?’”

  Katarina gritted her teeth. She didn’t remember him being so dense. “The operation, now that I’m running it. Do you want in on the ground floor, or do you want to be a peon the rest of your life, always playing second fiddle to everyone around you?” The line went silent, and she knew she had him, so she pressed harder. “I’ll double what Kingsley paid you, but I’ll need some assurance there won’t be any slipups like before. I don’t need Detective Kline connecting the dots. As far as she knows, I’m in the wind, and so is everyone else connected to the master.”

  “Are you sure he’s dead?”

  She was purposely misleading the man, but the fact was, Kingsley had managed to slide right to the top of the FBI’s Most Wanted list. If he dared show up in the states again, he wouldn’t last long, even if she didn’t take him out. But she thought there was zero chance Kingsley would return to the states. There was nothing left for him, and he loved his freedom far too much to risk losing it.

  Katarina kicked her legs up, bracing her heels on the desk. “You don’t have to worry about him popping up, if that’s what’s holding you back. He’s gone. This is an opportunity to be more than the master let you be.” She softened her voice, infusing her tone with a sultry purr. “I believe in you. Don’t you believe in yourself?”

  “What…” His voice caught, and he cleared his throat. “What did you have in mind?”

  “You’re in a unique position to catch mistakes before they get too far. I want you to monitor sales on my website and make sure that, if any of my merchandise comes through your office, you don’t let Detective Kline get her hands on the case. You have power, and I want you to use it to prevent a repeat of the incident with Detective Jones.”

  “I’m not sure how I can—”

  “I trust that whatever needs to be done, you can do it.”

  There was a long pause. “The master gave me five thousand a head. Can you do better?”

  Katarina cackled, genuine laughter bubbling up her throat. He stammered, trying to take back what he’d said, but Katarina cut him off. “I don’t blame you for trying to pad those pockets, but I know the master didn’t pay you close to that much.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I like a man with ambition, even if he’s trying to use that ambition to take my money. I’ll make you a deal. You keep my name out of Charleston PD and make sure no one suspects The Den is up and running, and I’ll pay you five percent of the sale price.”

  “How will I know what that is?”

  “You’ll need to watch the sales to recognize any that might come through your office for one reason or another.” Katarina checked her nails, wondering if there might be a salon nearby. “I’d imagine the math wouldn’t be hard for someone like you.”

  “The income won’t be steady.”

  She narrowed her eyes, the heat of anger rising from her belly as he tried to negotiate her already generous deal. The amusement she’d felt at his trying to hustle a better deal for himself was quickly dwindling. If he pushed her any harder, he would find himself on the auction block.

  “Money is rarely steady in this game, but most of my merchandise sells fo
r at least fifty thousand. I’m looking to appeal to a more exclusive crowd, which will work in your favor. But I need you to ensure my clients are safe from scrutiny.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Good. I don’t have to tell you, the safer they feel, the more likely I can convince a whale to make an investment in their own personal pleasure.” Katarina grinned at the image the term “whale” evoked.

  Whale was a word she’d learned working the floors of an illegal casino, but it carried over well in her world too. Wealthy beyond measure and willing to spend any amount of money on worldly pleasures, a whale was almost always a portly man with a huge appetite for more than just delicious delicacies.

  Attracting whales would drive her sales up, forcing the stingier clients to come up with more money to secure a favorite. The competition alone would push her sales through the roof. Why the master hadn’t catered to the exorbitantly rich was beyond Katarina. They were at the top of her short list.

  Inspired by her musings and his silence, Katarina decided to sweeten the pot. “I’ll throw in commission for any paying customer you send my way.”

  That piqued his interest. “How much?”

  “Twenty percent of their first purchase and ten percent of every purchase after that. Usually, the first purchase is the most extravagant, so this is an incredible opportunity for you.”

  “All right, I’m in.”

  Katarina bit her lip to hold back the excited squeal that almost burst forth. Having an inside man at Charleston PD again would make it that much easier for her to convince others to come back. That, and the promise of more money than Kingsley had ever been willing to part with.

  His stingy nature had done nothing but leave him alone when he needed someone to take care of him the most. What he’d amassed in his offshore accounts wouldn’t buy him off the FBI’s Most Wanted list. There was only so much money could buy, which was why Katarina didn’t mind helping Kingsley spend it.

  “I’ll be in touch.” She hung up before he had a chance to respond. She had a lot more calls to make and a street team to manage.

  She opened a drawer, pulling out her pink leather-bound bullet journal. Tucking her legs under her, lower lip caught between her teeth, she added to her progress, happy with what she saw. The auction was only a few short days away, and everything was right on schedule. All that was left was touching base with her people on the street.