Blade Dance (8 page)

“You’ve really been jonesing about this, haven’t you?”

“I’m sitting at home, on my ass, with two broken leg bones, a shattered kneecap, and a pile of evidence that’s going nowhere. What else should I be doing?”

“Keeping those two hard workin’ men of yours happy, that’s what.”

“Bugger off, Garrett. You’re such a chauvinist. My two hard workin’ men are
so
freakin’ happy that the other team members threaten to throw them down and hog-tie them, just to keep the smiles off their faces.”

That brought out a bark of laughter. “You’re tough, sweetcheeks, you’re tough.”

Glennon Garrett was a good-looking guy, tawny hair, bright blue eyes, totally buff—and also the go-to guy for matters of international surveillance and security, whether military, government, law enforcement, or civilian. He had the clearance. He’d get the job done, and didn’t play favorites. Michael had worked with him before, made the introductions to Austin and Wallis.

“Glennon, I realize there’s gonna be a ton of stuff to sift through, probably most of it bullshit, but I don’t know anyone else who has the technical chops to make it happen. Or the toys to do it. Help me, Obi-wan, you’re my only hope.”

“After that build-up, how can I resist? I’m on it, babydoll.”

He leaned back in his office chair, twirling the letter opener. “Wallis, what if I—”

Wallis held up a finger, interrupted him. “Damn. I really need to get a dog.”

“A dog. Why?”

“The screen door just slammed. Someone is in my house.”

***

Theo had watched the men leave; she’d been left in the house. Alone. He’d made sure of it.
Show time
.

But the heavy-duty spring on the screen door at the back of the dwelling ripped the wooden frame out of his hand. Surprised, he failed to grab the door before it banged against the clapboards.

He had secured the Puma Vendetta cricket bat against his back with the brown leather belt threaded through the loops of his Dockers. He thought the Vendetta name was prophetic, but it would only work if he was behind her, not facing her. A quick, two-handed bash between the shoulder blades, she’d hit the floor like a sack of cement. It always worked. Bring out the duct tape, followed by the other toys. Save the knife until last. Oh yeah. The perfect, precise, dance of the blade.

Oh, yes, then the bitch is all mine
.

Using only one crutch, Wallis hobbled to the office door, leaned against the door frame. She looked down the hall toward the kitchen.

“Theo? Is that you? Theo, enough is fucking enough. What the bloody blasted hell are you doing in my house?”

He stood in the kitchen, hands hidden in his front pockets. “You really shouldn’t use bad language.”

“Fuck that shit, I live here. I can use any language I damn well please. You didn’t answer me—why are you in my house?”

“I thought I smelled gas again.”

“Give it up, asshole. There’s no leak in the propane tank, and you know it.”

He took a step forward. “Must be a stranger lurking. Maybe in the outbuildings. Someone could be squatting out there, and you’d never know.”

“Theo, please leave. If you really need something, come back when the guys are home. Since you found your way in, you can find your blasted way out. Go away. I have work to do.” She turned back to the office just as all the niggling thoughts coalesced.
Oh for fuck sake
!
Right in front of my freakin’ nose
!

Wallis heard the footsteps, realized her mistake, but didn’t have time to defend herself. Doing the best she could, she ducked her head, presented a shoulder. She tried to get a better grip on the crutch, to use it as a weapon.

Too late. He was on her.

Pain radiated across her shoulder blades as something heavy crashed down and forced her to the floor of the parlor, just outside the office. She balanced on her good knee, the casted leg sticking out awkwardly to the side. There was no way to protect it.

“You bitch, you can’t get away from me that easily.”

She twisted around to sit up and reorient herself, tried to meet the attack.
Holy crap, a cricket bat
!
A fucking cricket bat
?

“Theo, for chrissakes, what the bleedin’ hell is wrong with you?”

“There’s
nothing
wrong with me, bitch. Do you hear me?
There’s nothing wrong with me
!”

He swung the cricket bat again, a strong, two-handed blow—and smashed her cast hard enough to crack the fiberglass.

She fell back to the carpet, screamed her throat raw. In agony, she twisted onto her stomach, dragged her destroyed leg as she crawled back toward the office.

Theo grabbed her good leg, yanked, flipped her onto her back again. He dropped the cricket bat behind him, unbuttoned his left sleeve to reveal a thin black blade in a black leather sheath. He slid the knife from the sheath, leaned down, and showed it to her. He wore what looked like sturdy blue Nitrile gloves, probably to protect himself from blood and gore.

“Now, we’ll play a little game. The rules are very simple. I cut you, you bleed, then you scream and beg for mercy.”

Tears of agony morphed into tears of rage as they flowed down Wallis’s face.
I may never see Austin or Michael again, but I’m sure as shit not going out begging to this worm
. “You want a scream? I’ll give you a goddamn scream.
Fuck off, you little piece of shit cocksucker
!”

She kicked out with her good leg, caught him a lucky shot square in the middle of his shin with her heel.

Theo shrieked, dropped the knife and hopped backward. He regained his balance, rubbed his shin. “Bitch, that really hurt. You’re gonna pay!”

While he scrambled for the knife, Wallis scooched backward, into the office. Alternately cursing and crying in pain, she dragged her destroyed leg to the side, slammed the door shut. She couldn’t reach the handle to lock it, but she was able to lean back against the heavy wood, using hands, butt, and good leg as brakes.

Theo roared and crashed against the door, dislodging her slightly.

Well, this shit’s not gonna work for very long
. She scanned the office, looked for a solution. Any solution.
Not much I can do from the freakin’ floor
.

Her other crutch leaned against the desk, but if she moved away from the door, he’d be on her before she made it more than a couple of feet. There was a five-shot Taurus Ultralite Revolver, loaded with .38 caliber wadcutters, in the bottom draw of the desk. Same problem—no freakin’ way to reach the gun before he barged in and finished her off.

“Theo, why don’t you do yourself a favor and leave while you still can. At least you’ll have a head start before the guys get back.”

“Oh, I’ll leave, all right, but not before you’re a cold corpse for your depraved lovers to find. Not before I slice you to ribbons. Not before I fuck you.”

Her blood kicked up to the boiling point.
Enough is bloody well enough, you little piss-ant
.

“Fuck me? You’re gonna fuck me? You little pervert, we both know that won’t happen. You can’t get it up. And you forgot your duct tape, dickhead, so my hands are free. I’m SWAT trained, buddy. You don’t want to know what I can do to you with my bare hands. I read about a woman who tore her attacker’s balls off with her fingernails when he tried to rape her. Don’t know if it’s possible, but I’m sure as shit willing to give it a try. Are you?”

She didn’t know if pissing him off was very helpful, but it took her mind away from the pain in her shattered leg, the agony of which continued to wash over her in waves.

Everything was quiet for a long moment; she hoped he’d decided to cut his losses and bail out.

Then she heard heavy breathing against the door. He must have pressed his mouth right against the wood.

“So, aren’t you the clever one, you little bitch. The duct tape. You
did
figure it out. I wondered. Maybe the last kill was one kill too many. The timing was off, but I needed to get rid of your bodyguards. Tell me. I’m curious. Is that what gave me away?”

The pitch of his voice changed, became whiny, insistent, child-like. Wallis knew what the expression, “and her blood ran cold,” felt like. It was everything she could do to continue breathing. Without Glennon’s data, without all the evidence in, she hadn’t actually made a concrete connection, only had a theory—but Theo had just filled in the blanks for her.
Christ on a cracker, I’m toast. I’m history
.

Wait. Glennon.
Glennon
! He’d been on the web cam, with full audio, when Theo broke in and interrupted their conversation. Glennon heard everything.
Please, please, please
, pray
he heard everything
!

She shouted toward the computer. “Glennon,
omigod
, Glennon, man, dial 9-1-1 if you’re still there, I’m in the office but I can’t lock the door and Theodore Carroll is the killer, he’s the Blade Man and he’s here in my house with a fucking cricket bat and a fucking knife and who knows what else—” She ran out of breath.
I hope he heard enough
.

Theo hit the door, harder than before, shoved Wallis about a foot and a half. He reached in with the bat, aimed low, swung it blindly. The surprise attack not only jarred her ruined leg, but caught a hard shot to her right elbow.

She screeched in pain as she threw herself backward against the door. He screamed and pulled his arm and the cricket bat back through the narrow opening. The door shut, and she braced her body against it. Rubbing the elbow joint until the hurt was reduced to a tingle, she found that her right hand wouldn’t work.
Funny bone, my ass
.

He must have pressed his face against the door again. His breathing was labored, his voice cracked, unnatural sounding. “About the prom. You were right, y’know. I wrote her a note, and she said yes. The little bitch didn’t really want to go with me—she wanted to meet someone else, but it was couples only. Then she laughed at me on the dance floor. Laughed at me, right to my face in front of everyone, left me standing there.”

He pushed the door again. Then his mouth was at the opening, between door and doorframe. “But I fixed her. Oh, yes, I fixed that lying bitch. Terrible accident at the country club’s boat house. Just awful. Too much spiked punch, then that wet, treacherous footing. Next morning, they found her floating between her father’s yacht and the dock. Drowned, her poor body crushed by the hull. Too bad, so sad. She was number two, after pretty Colleen.”

No more talking. The next hit to the door was harder, more serious, probably with his shoulder. He snarled. Screamed obscenities. Pounded against the wooden panels, one hit after the other. Even though he wasn’t a big guy, the adrenaline made up for the lack of strength and body weight.

Wallis was losing ground. Another couple of hard shoves like that, and he’d be in the room.
Glennon, please, did you hear me, man, please
?

She searched the room again, but her options hadn’t changed.

She’d been SWAT trained.
Think, think. Think, for chrissakes
. She pulled in a deep breath, held it for a moment, let it out, slowly.
Okay. Offense, not defense. If I can’t keep him out, maybe I should let him in
.

Two more hits. He’d gained another few inches. Where was he? When would he hit next? She pressed her ear to the door, took her best guess.
Three, two, one
. She quickly scuttled away from the door. When Theo hit, there was no resistance. He flew into the room, lost his balance, crashed head-first into the heavy wooden desk. His body landed heavily on the floor.

Wallis launched herself.
Gotta get the knife, gotta get the knife, gotta
—

His forehead bleeding, Theo managed to twist beneath her, onto his back. He snarled in her face, furious at being tricked. He did his best to get out from under her, but she was all over him like a pissed-off wildcat.

As she wrestled with him, an immense spear of agony shot through her damaged leg, weakening her. With her right hand still partially numb, she knew she was about to lose the arm-wrestling battle. The winner would control the blade.

Her fingers slipped, and he sliced her upper arm. Not expecting the new pain, she cried out with a curse.

That energized him. “
Aha
, finally, gotcha, you bitch. You’re mine now. I’ll fillet you like a slab of raw beef.”

“Stop…calling me…a bitch.” Her bloodied fingers slid off his wrist.

He struck again, the blade slicing across her collar bone. She roared at him, pain and anger intermingling. “
Fuck you
, slime-ball, you’ll pay for that one.”

Still struggling with her, he forced a high, shrieky laugh. “But I have the blade, and you’re going to lose.”

Then she heard the cavalry. Theo’s body jerked, so she knew he heard it, too. The deep rumble escaping the chrome stacks on Michael’s big-assed truck, as the vehicle came to a screeching halt in the driveway. Two seconds later, the front door slammed open, accompanied by the crack of broken plaster. Heavy boots pounded down the hallway, followed by a loud grunt as a body ricocheted off furniture. Michael cursed.

Austin shouted. “Wallis,
Wallis
, we’re here, baby, we’re here.”

Theo jerked toward the voices. That was all the time Wallis needed.

With a wrenching twist, she jabbed her good knee up and into his rib cage, then snatched the knife from his hand. Blood flowed from her palm, but the pain didn’t even register. She swapped the handle in her bloody grip, blade pointing down.

Theo grabbed her slippery wrist and yanked it toward his body. Once again, she let his momentum work for her—as he pulled, she drove the razor-sharp blade point into the soft, exposed base of his throat, right through the jugular notch, with as much force as she could put behind it.

The pain in her leg exploded, forcing Wallis to push off, roll away from the dethroned killer. She left him to writhe like a headless snake. Listened to him choke and gag as the air escaping his lungs mixed with his own blood and bubbled through the slice in his neck. Listened as his worthless life gurgled away.