Monroe, Melody S. - Verdict (Siren Publishing Classic) (29 page)

The clever woman had managed the impossible. He bet Susan’s own mother would take a moment before recognizing her.

“Thank you.” Susan gave Mai a hug and stepped over to Stone. She ran a hand over his bald head. “You better get a hat. You’ll catch cold.”

He scrubbed a hand over his chin, fishing for a compliment. “But what do you think? Is it me, or what?”

“Definitely not you.”

“Perfect.”

He laughed, believing for a moment they could move around unnoticed for a while.

Nicky’s wheels squeaked on the tile floor as he came toward them. “Let me take a look at you two.”

He and Susan stood side by side. “I wouldn’t recognize either of you at first glance. Now you better get going before someone figures out you might have stopped here.”

She stepped next to his chair, leaned over and kissed him on his paper-thin cheek. “Thank you for all your help.”

He grabbed her hand. “Just make sure you take care of Stone.”

“No problem.” That brought a smile to her lips.

Nicky turned back to Stone. “Go, before the neighbors spot that truck of yours and call the cops.”

Stone leaned over and gave Nicky a hug. “Thanks, old man.”

“Don’t you ‘old man’ me.”

Stone squeezed the key chain in his fingers. “Any way Henry can do me a favor?”

“Name it.”

He told them where he’d grabbed the truck. “I’d like to see it returned.” He faced Henry. “You think you can hotwire that puppy?”

Henry stole a glance at his employer. “Not a problem, sir.”

“Dump the backpacks somewhere too.”

Henry nodded.

After a few more goodbyes, they grabbed the suitcases Mai had purchased, stuffed with at least a week’s worth of clothes and toiletries, and left the Caravello sanctuary.

With the scarf securely tied under her chin, she braved the weather with a smile. The light snow tickled her nose, and the air seemed sweeter and fresher. Even the thin layer of snow on the lawns lay undisturbed, signaling a fresh start. Just like them.

With more pep in her step than she remembered having in a while, she waited for Stone to unlock the door of their very nice ride.

They took back roads to the Maryland shore using the GPS as a guide. As they drove through St. Michaels, she admired the majestic homes.

“When was the last time you visited Uncle Nicky’s place?”

“Oh, gosh. Maybe ten years ago? He used to bring Peter, James, and me here during the summer. As a kid, I couldn’t get enough of the place. Especially the fishing.”

“My family had a boat, but Dad was often too busy to take us out on the water. When we did go, I remember we’d fish for flounder for hours on end.”

“You had a nice childhood, I take it?”

“When my father was home.” Her tone came out too wistful. She hadn’t planned to bring up her issues. If she was honest, her life had been quite good before Carlton came along, before Craig got into his car accident, and before Mom became depressed. Susan had tried to hold the family together after Dad died, but all she’d held dear disappeared after he passed.

Stone must have sensed she didn’t want to talk about those times and kept quiet. They made a quick stop at a fast food restaurant, then picked up some food supplies at a local market, not talking about anything they didn’t want the world to hear.

Less than twenty minutes later they pulled into the drive of a two story, Craftsman-style home. Not as big as she expected, but quaint and cozy nonetheless.

He cut the engine and got out. This time the weather wasn’t balmy and her wounds weren’t making her body scream.

 
He slipped the suitcases out of the trunk while she shuffled up the walkway with her head down, careful not to slip on the snow. She shielded her face with one hand to avoid anyone identifying her.

Once on the porch, she stomped her boots on the straw mat to get rid of the slush and waited for Stone to unlock the front door. No one had driven by on the brick street since their arrival. Maybe they had escaped unnoticed.

The sticky key worked on the second try. She expected the furniture to be covered in white sheets and the inside air temperature to be cold and damp, but someone must have come in recently and freshened up the place.

“Nice.” While not as down-to-earth as the Traynor’s cabin, this house oozed an elegant comfort, decorated in polished cotton prints and antique furniture. Uncle Nicky must have had a decorator. She didn’t see him as the kind to pick out the feminine style.

Stone set the suitcases down and marched around the house, checking the window locks before closing all the blinds. “Don’t want anyone snooping.” He waved a hand. “Look around, pick a bedroom, then relax.”

Pick a bedroom? They’d spent the last few nights next to each other, and she liked the security. She debated telling him she wanted to sleep by his side, but he was back into the I-am-the-protector role now. “Sure, as soon as I put away the groceries.”

Once she emptied the food into the fridge, she carried her suitcase upstairs. After checking out each of the three bedrooms, she picked the one with the attached shower. Not knowing how long they’d be here, she decided it best not to unpack.

Voices from the television floated upstairs. With all chores completed, she went downstairs to see what Stone was up to. In the living room, she found him asleep on the sofa. With care, she moved behind him. His face relaxed for the first time in many days, she itched to touch him but held back. They had to stay alert, even if they were hidden away in a small town on the ocean.

She debated waking him to suggest he climb into bed, next to her, but given he hadn’t slept in who knows how long, she let him be. It was close to bedtime anyway, so she tiptoed upstairs. Susan sat on top of the comforter, leaned against the padded headboard, and clicked on the TV, her mind not ready to rest.

She watched the Weather Channel for a few minutes. More snow was predicted for tomorrow. Wonderful. Just what they didn’t need. Of course, if they got snowed in, no one would be out looking for them either.

Next she flipped to the local Maryland news. Her body shot to alert. The screen showed a photo of her brother in his wheelchair, bound and tied.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Palms sweating, Susan flipped through the channels, trying to find more information about her brother’s kidnapping. How was this possible? Dominick Francisco was dead. Wasn’t he the one behind all the murders?

All of the channels showed the same image with little information. Shit.

Susan jumped off the bed and paced. She stabbed a hand through her spiked hair, forgetting for a moment there was little to play with.

Mom. My God, she’d be beside herself. First her mother was told her daughter was dead, and now her son had been kidnapped. With no one to calm her, there was no telling what kinds of pills her mother would ingest.

She pulled back the curtains to check the weather outside. Snowy, dark, windy.
Think
. It was a little after nine, and Arlington was only ninety miles away. If the storm got worse, it might take her two to three hours, but she’d arrive before her mom went to bed. She had to see her and tell her everything would be okay.

Stone. Dammit. He’d never let her waltz out of the house and drive by herself, and he sure as hell wouldn’t come with her. It didn’t matter the person who was after her no longer was alive. He’d argue someone was trying to get her attention. And he’d be right.

Her gaze shot around the room. Climbing out of the window wouldn’t work. She was on the second floor and Stone had the keys to the car.

A phone sat next to the bed. Dare she hope it worked? Walking softly across the plush carpet so as not to disturb Stone below, she picked up the phone and listened for a dial tone.

She pumped a fist in the arm. Wait. Given the age of the house, the walls were probably not insulated.

In order to lessen the chance he’d overhear her conversation, she turned on the shower full blast and dragged the phone into the bathroom. The cord barely reached. She sat on the cold floor and dialed her mom’s number.

The phone rang and rang. “Pick up, Mom.”

The answering machine came on, and she dropped her head against the wall. Her fingers trembled and her throat nearly closed. Susan cleared her throat when the beep sounded.

“Mom. Don’t freak. It’s Susan. I’m alive. Are you there? Please pick up.”

Seconds went by. And then her mother answered. “Susan?” Her voice cracked.

She sounded drunk, tired, and depressed.

“Mom, I’m okay. The FBI lied to you and Craig. I wasn’t in the car when it blew up.” She didn’t have time for a long discussion. “I can only talk for a minute. What happened to Craig?”

“You heard?”

Isn’t that what she just said? “Yes.”

“I got home from the grocery store and Craig wasn’t here. I thought maybe Doug had picked him up, but when I called, he said no. Then I got a phone call from someone who said they’d release Craig if you came to the warehouse, but I told him you could never come since you were dead. I didn’t understand what he wanted me to do.” Her mom sniffled.

Her mother must have gotten the information wrong. “Who called and said what?”

“I just told you.” Her tone came out scolding, like it did when she was ten.

“Did he give you a name, a number, the location of the warehouse?”

“A number.” Her mother rattled off a Virginia number.

“Let me get something to write with. Hold on.” She set the phone down, opened the bathroom door, and pawed through the side table drawer next to the bed. She came up with a pen, but nothing to write on.

Her hand. “Give it to me.”

Once her mother told her the number, Susan knew what she had to do. “Mom, I love you and I’ll talk to you soon.”

“When can I see—”

Susan disconnected, her blood pressure drilling a hole in her temples. The number on her hand mocked her. Dare she call this person? He’d tell her where she could retrieve her brother, and then she and Stone would figure out a plan of attack.

With her heart beating slower, she dialed the digits, praying she wasn’t making a mistake.

An electronically altered voice answered. “Hello.”

Did she want to talk to this robot? “This is Susan Chapman.”

“Tomorrow at 8:00 a.m., meet me at the warehouse on Richter and Arlington. Come alone, if you want to see your brother again. I’ll be in touch.”

“Can I—”

The dial tone didn’t answer back. Stunned, she dropped the phone back onto the receiver. Was Craig even alive? Would he kill both of them once he lured her to the site?

In need of a warm shower to help her sort through the tangled emotions before she broke the news to Stone, she stripped and jumped into the stall. The hot water poured down her face and her body. The steam helped settle her mind. As she lathered the minty soap, she came to a decision. They would do what the man asked. If Craig died because she stood by safe and sound, she’d never be able to live with herself.

“Were you on the phone a minute ago?”

She jerked, nearly slipping on the wet tile. She must not have heard Stone knock, if he had at all, but she was thankful the steam had misted the glass shower door when he stepped in, though it shouldn’t matter. It’s not like he hadn’t seen her naked, had his hands all over her breasts and his fingers and big cock inside her.

She didn’t have to see the expression on his face to know he was beyond pissed. “Maybe.”

“We need to talk.”

She didn’t do commands well. “When I’m done showering, I’ll be happy to discuss the length of the stick up your butt.” She dropped her head and sagged. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

“Water off. Now.” He waited a beat before he added the magic word, “Please.”

She shut off the water, reached outside the shower for the towel and wrapped the fresh-smelling cloth around her body. She stepped out with shoulders straight, ready to do battle.

His eyes widened perceptibly, but his wide stance told her the rest of the night wouldn’t go well. Her father always taught her to go on the offensive.

“My brother was kidnapped, and I spoke to his captor. There. Happy?”

“I wondered if you’d seen the report. Apparently, you had.” He stepped toward her and she battled anger, lust, and need at the same time.

“Yes.”

“You want a hug?”

Those were the last words she expected to hear, and the sweetest. All she could do was nod and step into his waiting arms. He cradled her, rocked her and kissed her, then stepped back.

“Now tell me everything.”

* * * *

Without help, Stone would never be able to protect Susan. The stubborn woman wouldn’t take no for an answer. She wanted to leave right then and go to her mother.

That was out of the question. Whoever had her brother, Craig, would no doubt have the mom’s place under surveillance. If he still had his cuffs, he’d chain her to the bed again. But this running had to stop. He wanted to get the bastard as much as she did.