All the Way (26 page)

Hiram threw Kellie a warning look. If Marvin could hear her whispers, so could Carter looming by the fireplace.

Kellie turned on Marvin. “The way Sherman's in there fawning over the little witch, he's not going to let you kill her. Now shut up!”

Marvin began to heat up. “Did the plan change? No. Hiram, you need to keep your woman in line before she blows this for us.”

Kellie pummeled Marvin with colored words.

Hiram jumped up from the couch. “Everybody shut up!”

“Yeah, everybody shut up.” Carter stepped into the middle of the incompetent mix of killers. “Marvin, go outside and keep watch. Hiram, take Kellie out to the van until it's time to go.”

Hiram moved as if he would challenge Carter, but Kellie grabbed his arm, relieved to be leaving the house alive. “Let's go.”

With the living room quiet, Carter could think. He stood at the end of the hallway and listened for noise from the bedroom. He could only imagine what Sherman was doing to Payton. Guilt threatened to propel him down the hall into the bedroom. Payton had been the only one at Skye to treat him decently. She hadn't batted an eye at his deformity. The more time he spent at Skye spying for Cecily, the more he had grown to like Payton. The scar on his left cheek throbbed angrily. The look of betrayal on her face tonight almost made him back out of his deal with Cecily, but he knew her and he knew her father—he wouldn't have lived past midnight. Besides, Cecily had enough dirt on him to put him on death row.

A shrill scream rang out from the bedroom. He started down the hall but stopped suddenly, quickly remembering his last stint in prison. Sherman and Cecily wouldn't really hurt Payton. They'd get it on with her and be satisfied. Sherman would never go through with having her executed.

“Death row,” he mumbled.

He sat on the sofa and turned up the volume of the television, trying to drown out Payton's screams. He would finish this job, dispose of the bodies, and get the hell out of town. He'd never do business with Cecily Grazicky again.

Chapter 28

“I recognize her,” Jake told Adriano. “She's the one who set me up.”

A man and a woman hustled out the front door of the pink pastel house. Adriano gave Jake a sideways glance, questioning the petite woman's ability to “grab” him.

“She's the one who broke your arm?” Ethan asked.

They crouched behind a parked car across the street, watching as the couple climbed into the white cargo van in the driveway. The red taillights came on, but the van didn't move. A huge man came out next and stationed himself at the left perimeter of the house.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Jake said. Police sirens sounded in the distance. “How far away do you think they are?”

“Close,” Adriano answered, “but we can't wait.”

What would be Grazicky's motivation for keeping Payton alive once he heard the sirens?

Ethan spoke. “I don't like this. What are they waiting for in the van?” He shared a look with Adriano. “How many do you think there are?”

“At least one more. I don't see the big guy who hauled Payton out of the hotel.”

Time was limited. The arrival of the police would cause the hit men to panic. If Payton were still alive—“I'm going in,” Adriano announced.

“The police are almost here,” Jake said. “These people are armed.”

“I'm with you,” Ethan announced.

“Do you know how to handle yourself?” Adriano wanted to know.

“I do all right.” The corner of Ethan's mouth slanted upward.

“You stay here and wait for the police,” Adriano told Jake.

Jake shook his head. “You think I can't handle myself because of this?” He lifted the cast on his broken arm.

“Yeah, something like that.”

A police car turned onto the street. The officers left the flashing lights on, and a red and yellow warning illuminated the dark neighborhood. The van peeled out of the driveway at top speed. The police car pursued. The man standing guard outside the house had jumped in the van before it left and another man had come out of the house and ran to the street to see what was happening.

“I hope there are more cars coming,” Jake commented.

“With smarter drivers,” Ethan added.

Instead of going inside to warn the others, the thug disappeared behind the house. They were scrambling. They would run. They would take care of any loose ends.

Adriano pointed left, at his own chest, and then right. Ethan nodded his understanding.

In a flash, Ethan disappeared behind the house. He caught the thug off guard. The man turned around, and Ethan's fist connected with his jaw. The man whirled, reaching inside his jacket, but Adriano was there to deliver another blow. The gun clattered to the ground, and Ethan kicked it away. Adriano pummeled the man with a succession of blows, working out all his fears on the man's face. The thug countered with a right, and then a left. Ethan approached from behind, and Adriano stalked from the front. The man took a fighter's stance, ready for one last round. Adriano kicked him solidly in the center of his chest. The man did a Fred Sanford impersonation, clutched his chest, and fell to the ground.

Jake was there, hustling for the gun. He held it on the thug. “Don't move!”

“How do we get inside?” Ethan asked, barely breathing hard. Adriano had misjudged the pretty boy.

“The front door.” He nudged the writhing man with his foot. “How many are inside?”

The man mumbled incoherently, still clutching his chest. His breaths came in short puffs.

“Let's do this,” Adriano said.

“Let's.” Ethan's mouth slanted upward again, and Adriano knew the expression for what it was: the thrill of the fight. He'd done many foolish things with that same look on his face. Suddenly he felt old and weary of the game.

“Go!” Adriano took off to the front of the house.

 

 

Cecily's hand came down hard across Payton's face. “Can't we remove the gag? I want to hear her scream.”

Sherman pressed his lips to Cecily's mouth, quieting her. “The neighbors will hear,” he told her, hoping it would be enough. The first opportunity Payton had to talk, she'd tell what she knew about Cecily's father. If Sherman wanted his plan to come off, Cecily couldn't find out about her father's death until after he'd gone.

Payton watched them, intent on not crying. She held her screams, batting away the tears threatening to fall. Her stubborn refusal to give Cecily what she wanted—a quivering, crying weakling she could dominate—only fueled Cecily's creative mind. Cecily pounced on the bed, locking Payton's arms between her thighs.

Cecily had dressed the part for Payton's seduction. A black leather skirt and corset matched her stiletto boots. The material was tight; every curve of her body was outlined against the leather. She'd always wanted to try this game, and now she had the chance. Her eagerness thrilled Sherman. He almost wished they could keep Payton and do this again.

Horny beyond belief, Sherman fumbled with his belt buckle. “You might enjoy this,” Sherman said.

“I think she does,” Cecily laughed.

“This will be the last time you have a man.” The belt fell to the floor, and he started on his pants.

Cecily cackled, and he started on the pants again. Completely nude, he approached the bed. Payton tried to wiggle free of Cecily's hold, so the woman struggled to handcuff her in the leather cuffs dangling from the bedposts. Too erect to wait any longer, Sherman converged on Payton, groping her breasts. She fought, heightening Cecily's pleasure.

“I want to hear her beg,” Cecily said, ripping the tape away from Payton's mouth.

Sherman lunged at her, trying to cover her mouth before she could speak.

“He killed your father!” Payton screamed, struggling to catch her breath. “I saw him order the hit.”

The room went still. The crazy, cackling fun Cecily had been enjoying died with Payton's words. She extricated herself from Payton's body and left the bed.

“Liar!” Cecily shouted. “My father is away on business.”

“Call him.”

“Don't listen to her,” Sherman said, pressing the tape back to Payton's mouth.

“Why would she accuse you of killing Daddy?”

Sherman could see Cecily working it out in her head. She wouldn't discount Payton's claim easily.

“She'd say anything to stop what's going to happen to her.” He moved slowly toward his wife. “She's dead, and she knows it. She's trying to come between us.”

“You said I could leave the country with you,” Payton said.

He swung around to find she'd worked the used tape away from her mouth. “Shut up! Shut up or I'll have you killed now.”

“What is she talking about, Sherman?” Cecily wanted to know, backing away from him.

“Don't let her do this, honey. Let's finish what we started.” He reached for her hand, but she angled away from him.

“Your father didn't want your husband's drug business calling attention to his business,” Payton yelled. “He threatened to call in his loans.”

“How does she know so much?” Cecily asked.

Sherman could see it in her eyes. She believed Payton. She was waiting for one piece of indisputable evidence before she condemned him.

“She's a manager at Skye. She must have been spying on me for the FBI.”

Cecily shook her head. “No. There's something else going on here.”

Sherman stormed to the bed, ready to silence Payton permanently.

“Don't touch her!” Cecily shouted.

Sherman turned to his wife. “She's lying, Cecily.”

“We'll see.” She moved around Sherman to stand closer to Payton. “Describe the man you saw my husband have killed.”

Payton recited every detail of the meeting she had witnessed. Sherman felt as if he were watching the deadliest moment of his life replayed on the movie screen. She described the scene perfectly, not leaving out one minute detail.

Cecily turned slowly. “You killed my
father?
” Her eyes were cloaked in an emotion he'd never seen her express. “For money? Do you know how much I'm worth? You could have had everything you wanted, if you would have just asked.”

“I don't want to come begging to my wife for everything I need!”

“Now I'm not good enough for you, you stupid ex-convict?
You killed my father!
”

“You believe her? Over me?”

Cecily moved to the bed and began loosening Payton's restraints. “Go. Get me the proof. Carter will go with you.”

“Wait!”

Payton's first instinct told her to fight, but Adriano had taught her many lessons while they were on the run. She had one shot. She had to take it at the right moment to make it count. She relaxed her fight against the cuffs, allowing Cecily to release her.

Sherman stood paralyzed, his mind racing for an alternate plan. If Payton returned with evidence of Franco's death, he'd be killed. As it was, Cecily doubted his word and was sending Payton to prove her claims.

“If you're lying,” Cecily told Payton, “I will kill you myself.”

“I'm not lying.” Payton moved stiffly off the bed.

As she crossed the room, Sherman saw everything he'd worked for fading away. If he made it out of this alive, he'd be poor or, worse, imprisoned again. Desperation made him react recklessly. He jumped across the room and yanked out the bedside drawer, scrambling inside until he found the gun he kept hidden there.

Cecily turned to see what had captured Payton's attention.

Knowing Sherman would kill her as easily as he was going to shoot his wife, Payton rushed him, executing a hard chop to his windpipe with the heel of her hand. He lurched, grabbing his throat and dropping the gun. The blow hadn't been forceful enough to render him unconscious, but it did make him stagger and gasp for air. He went down on his knees, choking and trying to breathe.

Cecily didn't hesitate. She whipped a knife from the waistband of her skirt. The long silver blade sparkled in the lighting. Payton's last coherent thought was to question how Cecily had fit the gaudy thing inside her tightly restrictive clothing. She realized Cecily's original intent had been to use it to cut her throat after they were done playing with her. She became woozy and her knees gave out just as Cecily grabbed a fistful of Sherman's hair, yanked his head back, and slashed his throat from behind.

Blood arced across the room, spraying across Payton's tank top. She screamed, pressing her palms to her mouth. She felt queasy, dizzy, confused. The room wavered, swimming before her eyes.

“
You killed my father!
” was Cecily's battle cry as she plunged the knife between Sherman's shoulder blades.

With an anguished grunt, Cecily doubled over on the floor next to Sherman. She cried out in a high-pitched wail that would bring the hit men to see what was going on. Payton knew she had to get out before they arrived. They'd kill her first and sort out the details of what happened later. She crawled across the room, making a wide circle around the pool of Sherman's blood.

The bedroom door swung open, and Adriano burst inside. Grabbing Payton under the arms, he pulled her across the room, out of Cecily's reach. She hustled into his arms, pulling him down on the pink carpet with her.

Cecily came back to herself, shouting between sobs. “Carter! Get in here!” When he didn't answer, she used the edge of the bed to climb up from the floor. Her steps unsteady, she moved past them, unaware they were there. She moved into the hallway, screaming for Carter to kill everyone in the house.

“Are you okay, angel?” Adriano held her tight, examining her torn, bloody clothing while eyeing Sherman's dead body.

“Cecily,” Payton said, grabbing onto him. “We have to get out of here.”

His keen reporter's eye spotted the table lined with sex toys and the bed with the cuffs still dangling from the posts. “What did they do to you?”

Payton gripped his neck, not willing to let him leave her side. “They didn't hurt me. Look at your face!” She bounced to her knees and gingerly cupped his face in her palms, examining the scrapes and welts.

Jake appeared, positioning himself next to Sherman's naked and bloody body. He turned the man's head to check for a pulse, finding the slash across his neck. “What the hell?”

The room swelled with policemen and FBI agents. They buzzed around the house, searching for the others involved. After everyone was rounded up, they interrupted Payton and Adriano's reunion to get details of her capture. Adriano insisted they move outside, away from Sherman's body.

Outside, Ethan was waiting. Lisa Hail came blazing down the street. Before her car came to a complete stop, she was pounding the pavement toward Adriano and Payton.

“Arrest these men!” Hail yelled at the officers standing closest to the stolen taxi.

Adriano drew Payton into the protective barrier of his chest.

Perplexed—these men were heroes—the two officers stood by and waited for the confrontation to erupt between Hail and the men.

Lisa's finger poked Jake's chest. “I told you to stay out of my way or I'd have you arrested. Well, you did it. I'm throwing you all in jail, and you'll be lucky if you're released this time next year.”

“Listen, Hail—”

“And you.” Lisa pointed in Payton's direction. “What's your problem? We're trying to
protect
you. These officers put their lives on the line, and you go running off. I have a mind to throw you in jail with your boyfriend!”