Dark Waters (2013) (39 page)

It
was
a smart place for the bad guys to hole up.

The cops had left, but the area was still officially a crime scene. It was remote, but had everything from a fully stocked kitchen to wireless Internet. They just hadn’t counted on the small community’s inability to keep their noses out of other people’s business. And they hadn’t counted on the Carver brothers.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar and a thin sliver of light gave them some illumination, revealing a bulky shape on the bed.

Brent swallowed the fear and panic for Anna’s well-being and concentrated on not making a sound as he dropped to the floor. He might not be military, but he’d grown up tracking animals in the bush and all his survival instincts had been honed in an abusive household and then in prison. He aimed the Glock at the unmoving shadow and took the rifle that Finn lowered to him before his brother landed like a cat beside him.

The lump on the bed didn’t move. He and Finn went to opposite sides of the bed and squinted at the gray tuft of hair that stuck out of the bedclothes. Not Anna’s mother, and her stepfather was bald. Finn raised a handgun as Brent eased back the blanket. An older guy’s eyes were wide open, a gag stuffed in his mouth. He looked exhausted, dirty, and terrified. One eye was swollen shut. Finn checked his back and ankles. “Cuffed,” he breathed quietly.

Brent lowered the gag but placed a finger to his own lips. “Who are you?”

“Name’s Harvey Montgomery. I was with Katherine when she was abducted in Anchorage.”

He and Finn exchanged a glance. That fit with the information Holly had gleaned.

“You guys the rescue party?” Harvey whispered as Finn cut his ties. Brent removed the covers so Harvey could flex his arms and legs to get the blood flowing again. It must have hurt like a bitch from the look on his face.

Brent grimaced. “I’m a friend of Katherine’s daughter, Anna. This is my house.” And damned if these bastards were killing the woman he loved in a place that meant so much to him. Damned if they were killing her anywhere.

“Cops are on their way,” Finn reassured the man. Finn went over to the bedroom window and opened it up.

Brent pointed to it. “If you can get out of there without making a sound, do it. But if you make a noise, I’ll shoot you myself.”

Harvey shook his head. “I’m not about to abandon a woman to these maniacs. Give me a weapon. I’ll help you.”

“You know how to use a gun?” Finn asked.

“US Marine Corps, soldier.” He obviously pegged Finn as part of the pack. Brent’s lip curled. Another clique he didn’t belong to.

Finn handed Harvey the Beretta and a handful of ammunition. “Don’t shoot the ladies.” He slung the rifle on his back.

There was a cry from downstairs and Brent went for the door. Finn grabbed him. “Softly,” he whispered. “Let’s not prove the assholes from ERT correct, OK?”

Finn was right. He nodded. “How many bad guys?” he asked Harvey in a low whisper.

“I’ve seen three but heard two more since they stuffed me upstairs. I’m rich, which is why I’m still alive. I’m the backup plan.”

“Where are they keeping Katherine and Anna?”

“Katherine was in here with me until about fifteen minutes ago. They came and took her downstairs when the others arrived.”
Harvey’s eye was swollen shut—from the look of his face, he’d tried to stop them and failed. “I didn’t see her daughter.”

People could do a lot of harm in fifteen minutes.

Brent eased onto the landing, keeping below the solid oak stair rail. They knew one guy was watching the back door. Downstairs was pretty much open-plan, except for the laundry room. There was a heated conversation going on that he couldn’t make out. Finn tapped his shoulder to tell him something when someone opened the bedroom door behind them.

Fuck.

The guy was blinking sleep out of his eyes, which gave them a split-second advantage. Finn caught him in a headlock, smothering any sound the guy made with his hands and arms, driving him smoothly back into the room. Brent and Harvey swept in behind and closed the door quietly behind them.

“Keep lookout,” he murmured to Harvey, who nodded and cracked the door, peering out.

The big guy slumped in Finn’s arms, sagging to his knees, unconscious. Finn hoisted him onto the bed. “We need to tie him up.”

They were in Brent’s bedroom so he grabbed the SIG Sauer out of a secret panel in a false beam. Finn raised his brows. “I didn’t see that.”

“Me neither,” murmured Harvey appreciatively.

“Got any duct tape in there?” Finn asked.

“No, some in my studio though. Want me to get it?”

Finn shook his head. “Ties? Belts?”

Brent went over to his wardrobe that was mainly full of worn jeans, board shorts, and faded T-shirts. He pulled three ties
from next to a tailored jacket he’d worn for his parole hearing. The clock was ticking. Anna was in danger. He grabbed a pair of woolen socks from his top drawer and stuffed them in the guy’s mouth and secured it tightly with the first tie. Finn bound the wrists together and Brent took the ankles, tying the shoelaces in a knot for good measure. Brent grabbed a couple of leather belts and they trussed him across the bed and attached him to the bed legs.

“How long will he be out?” Brent asked.

“Not long enough,” Finn answered.

“Shit.” Brent did not want this guy to start to bang around up here and raise the alarm.

“I’ll watch him.” Harvey came to stand beside them. They all kept their voices barely a whisper. “I’ll keep him covered and shoot anyone who comes to find him. It would be my pleasure.”

“Just make sure they aren’t cops,” Brent said. “And if cops turn up or if someone throws a flash bang in here, you put the gun down and stick those hands as high in the air as they go.”

With his luck Brent would get an RCMP bullet through the skull, although he wasn’t sure it would be termed “friendly fire.”

“Cops’ll be here soon,” Finn agreed. He turned to Brent. “I can’t get a clear shot from inside. I’m going to take the rifle outside and find a position where I can see the living room. You sit tight. Only interfere if Anna or her mom are in imminent danger, and whatever you do, keep the fuck out of the line of fire.” And then he was gone. Brent nodded to Harvey and slipped out after him.

There was a gunshot from downstairs, and Brent’s blood turned to ice. Maybe he was already too late.

Anna came awake in a pile of limbs on the floor, her head feeling like it had been cracked open like a raw egg. Her vision was blurred, but she realized her mom was snuggled up beside her. Slowly everything clicked back into place. Like why she was lying
on the floor wearing only an open shirt, a tattered bra, panties, and socks.

She sat up, woozy and unbalanced. She gripped her mom’s hand and tried to loosen her ties so she’d be more comfortable, but her mom seemed out of it, as if she’d been drugged or had just given up. The men at the kitchen counter flicked her a glance, but ignored her as no real threat. And really, she wasn’t. She couldn’t even see straight and her head pounded.

The men were whispering. She strained to hear.

“What’s the name associated with those accounts?” Rand asked.

“Plantain. Ed Plantain.” The geeky guy shot her another glance. But she concentrated on her mother’s eyes and willed her to come out of the fog. She watched the men out of her peripheral vision.

“So he set Davis up?”

The accountant’s brow’s rose. “I don’t know, but yeah, it looks like it. Sly bastard.”
What did that mean?
“It’ll take me thirty seconds to move our money back…” His hands hovered over buttons and then he frowned. “Hmmm. I think someone’s onto us.” The guy tapped faster and then grinned. “They locked down one of the accounts, but I’ve moved the rest. And,” he said archly, “we are all cosigners on each other’s accounts, so let’s not think about getting rid of anyone else.”

Anna eyed the dead man on the floor. One of their own. Murdered.
God
.

“Browning was a liability.” Rand was chillingly reasonable for such a cold-blooded killer. “Get Kudrow. We’re gone in ten minutes.” They both looked at her and her mom huddled on the floor. “I’ve got a little unfinished business with the schoolteacher.”

Ten minutes
. Well, at least it would be fast.

Her throat was tight, but she had something she really needed to know. Something more important than his plans for her.

“What did you mean?
Who
set Davis up?”

Rand’s lip twitched. He nudged her mom with his foot as she lay almost comatose on the floor. “Seems your stepfather set your dad up so he could be there to pick up the pieces for your sweet mama. That’s a lot of trouble to go to for some ass. Bet you’re glad now I shot the fucker.”

Her mom’s eyes widened infinitesimally, but she didn’t meet her gaze. Anna’s mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Her dad had been innocent. Everything he’d ever said had been true, but no one had believed him—except Brent.

Oh, Jesus. It was awful. She’d let him down, thanks to that creep Ed. Her heart crumbled inside her chest, that they’d hurt him that way. Her mother would never forgive herself. Anna would never forgive herself. But if she wanted to survive the next ten minutes, she needed to do something drastic and that didn’t involve going off to la-la land like her mom. Anger surged through her body.

Rand grabbed her wrist, his iron grip bruising flesh as he hauled her to her feet.

She fought him, stumbled forward. “Let go of me!” Despite the pain, she twisted and jerked against his hold, his fingers biting ruthlessly into her skin. She grabbed at the heavy couch but struggled to find purchase in the thick navy fabric. Her nail tore and she bit down on a scream. He had a hundred pounds of pure muscle on her, but she refused to let go. Coming to a halt, Rand gave a savage jerk and almost pulled her arm out of its socket. She cried out and he laughed. Tears burned her eyes, but she wasn’t about to let them fall.

She wasn’t going to let him destroy her. She’d rather he shot her than raped her, so pissing him off didn’t matter. It was all going to hurt. She certainly wasn’t going to curl into a fetal ball and give up.

At the bottom of the stairs, she hooked her flexed foot on the end rail and refused to budge. The hard edge of the gleaming wood cut into her ankle. She gave a silent scream as the agony of being
violently stretched tore through her. Rather than the pain, she concentrated on not letting go. If she could slow him down, maybe he wouldn’t have time to finish what he started. Maybe a miracle would happen and she’d be rescued. For a long time she hadn’t believed in miracles, but right now she was willing to give one a chance.

Rand let out a furious bellow and heaved her sideways. She crashed into the opposite wall, screaming with shock and frustration. He gave a satisfied growl as he dragged her up the torturous risers. Every step raked the fresh bruises on her body until she writhed in agony, every hard edge inflicting new injuries as he unceremoniously yanked her along like a sack of flour. Her flexed feet caught against the edge of the last stair and she dug down hard as he swore with anger and frustration. He was going to hurt her anyway, so she had nothing to lose. Which brought another shocking realization. The life she’d made for herself in Minneapolis meant nothing anymore. She wanted Brent—not just to save her, but to love her.

God, could the secret of happiness be
that
easy?

Brent didn’t want a live-in lover. But so what? She could change his mind, or they could keep separate homes. She’d travel a lot. She could even teach in Canada, and move back to the island. For the first time in her life, Anna wanted to fight for a man. For a life with someone. And he might not go for it—hell, he was stubborn—but he’d already admitted he cared. Something unfurled inside her chest. From a man like Brent Carver, “care” was tantamount to a full-on proposal.

“Let. Go. Of. The. Fucking. Step. Bitch.” Rand jerked her forward, anger penetrating that emotionless gaze for the first time. She yelped as he freed her from the step and she plowed straight into the wall. She caught a sharp blow to the nose, which made her eyes sting.
Dammit
. Rand looked amused. He dragged her across Brent’s highly polished floors. Frantically she flailed around, but there was nothing left to grab on to. The monster was going to rape her and then he was going to kill her. Then he was going to
kill her mother, and chances were Brent would find their bodies when he came home.