Monroe, Melody S. - Verdict (Siren Publishing Classic) (35 page)

He decided he’d go in the back way. The wind swirled around his feet and the snow fell in silent prayer. Lights blazed inside, but with the shades closed, he couldn’t tell who was where. Damn.

Stone scouted the area to locate the extra men who were supposedly there. He spotted no one. Had the killer been bluffing? It wouldn’t be the first time a criminal lied.

With his gun by his side, he slipped the key from his pocket. As slowly as he could, he inserted the key into the lock. Muted voices sounded from inside. The knob twisted, but when he pulled on the door, the wood didn’t move. Shit. The deadbolt was on and required a different key. Now what?

Stone stepped back, glanced up and studied the large, snow-covered tree next to the house that was taller than one of the bedroom windows. If he managed to climb without falling, he’d have to break the window to get in, and the killer would hear him, defeating the purpose of the surprise attack.

Ticktock. Time’s up.

Stone raced to the front of the house, committing what his FBI manual would be called a very stupid act. He rang the doorbell. Before the door opened, he tossed his gun in the bushes. The weapon might come in handy later. As he waited for the killer to open the door, he held his hands up in surrender.

The door eased open. Stone kept his gaze straight ahead. James smiled and pointed a 9mm at his face. Stone’s heart sank. He wasn’t who Stone wanted to answer the door and the gun wasn’t what he wanted to be staring down.

“Welcome. Gun, please.”

James acted almost civilized, but then again, he’d been raised by a family who believed in good manners. “Came without one and without backup, just as you requested. See? I can follow instructions.”

James motioned him in. His gaze raced around the room. He debated twisting around and trying to take down Peter’s brother, but with his bad leg, he might lose. James was stocky and strong while Stone was in pain and off balance. Not to mention, James held the weapon.

He halted once he made it to the living room. Peter was gagged and tied to the chair. Shit. He’d be no help. Even though his right eye was swollen shut, and he had several cuts on his face, his friend was alive. Barely.

He wondered where Maria was. Stone turned around. The gun remained raised. “Where’s Susan?”

“In due time. In due time. Now sit on the sofa. We have things to discuss.” So cool, detached and sociopathic.

He never did like James. “What is there to discuss?”

“My immunity.”

He’d learned to act as if any criminal demand was a reasonable one. “From what? What have you done?” The words stung his throat.

“So far, nothing.”

He didn’t believe that lie. “Then why do you need immunity?” He wasn’t sure why he was playing this game.

Yes, he did. For Susan.

He should have called Harrison and told him to follow him. Christ. He didn’t deserve to be an agent. Fear should be punching him in the face, but some kind of strange calm had taken over his body. He bet the composure would shatter if he learned Susan was dead.

“I need immunity because of what I’ll need to do to get out of here. Okay, I might have assisted Dominick Francisco in finding some of the jurors, but that’s all. I never killed anyone.”

Sure. And the earth is flat.
He could hear Susan saying all criminals claim they were innocent. “Why call me? Why not just leave Peter and Susan to fend for themselves? You knew I was on my way. You could have been long gone before I arrived.”

James tilted his head to the side and shook it. “I have plans for you. Or rather Joseph Francisco has plans for you for killing his son, my half-brother.”

Stone kept his gaze focused on James. “Mind if I see Susan before you carry out those plans?”

He waved a hand. “I like to cooperate with the FBI.”

Make a deal.
“If you walk out right now, I’ll make sure the FBI doesn’t come after you, though you’ll have to get your brother to buy into the deal. You roughed him up pretty bad.”

James didn’t have to know he probably wasn’t a member of the FBI any more. The asshole leaned against the wall, all relaxed and confident. “Oh, he’ll agree to anything I want. I have Maria.”

Stone stole a glance at Peter fighting against his bonds, the fear pouring out of his eyes confirming what James had said was true. Stone fought to keep his hands unclenched and swallowed the urge to attack.

“Show me Susan. Alive. Then I’ll do whatever you want.” Or not.

“She’s in the there. Through the door. But don’t expect her to greet you with open arms.”

Stone launched off the sofa. The urge to strangle James overtook him. Two strides took him halfway to James. The cocking of the gun stopped him cold.

“See your woman. Then we’ll talk.” Stone moved toward the door. “And keep the door open. Try anything, and I mean anything, and I’ll kill her.”

He believed James, though he was surprised he didn’t add that Stone would be next in line to get a bullet.

His palms sweated as he twisted the knob leading to the den. He steeled his body for what he would see. When he pushed open the door, he froze.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Susan was bundled in a blanket on the sofa with her eyes closed, but Stone couldn’t tell if she was still alive. He raced over to her, listening for James’ footsteps to approach from behind for a rear attack.

As he knelt in front of her, he choked back a sob. “Susan?”

She didn’t move. He fumbled for a pulse, but his heartbeat drowned out hers. James chuckled from the doorway. “Is she dead yet?”

“I can’t tell.” If it was the last thing he did, he’d take the man down.

“A pity. I didn’t do this to her, by the way.”

Stone looked back over his shoulder. “Who did? Jack the Ripper?”

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

Smug bastard. Stone had to understand if she was alive in order to figure out his next move. He dipped a hand under the blanket and placed his palm over her heart. Elation sped through him at the faint beating and warm skin. He wanted to kiss her, hug her, hold her, but giving away his feelings for Susan in front of James would add to the list of dumb moves. Indifference was the only emotion Peter’s brother understood.

He stood and eased his way toward James. “You stuck to your word. She’s here.” He shrugged, praying his casual act was believable, despite his outcry of Susan’s name. “Now what?” He jabbed his hand in his pocket and kept his gaze focused on James. His fingers itched to pull out his weapon.

“Hmm. I’m tempted to just leave you here to care for your woman and my brother, but then I’d disappoint my father.”

Stone didn’t react to the obvious attempt to bait him. “Mr. Francisco won’t stop until his son’s killer is destroyed. Right?”

“You are perceptive. I really would like to leave you, but your buddies will come after me for kidnapping, even though I didn’t take Susan in the first place. You can ask her when she comes to. Did you know I found her naked?” His lips curled. “In the shed in my back yard. Tied up. Nearly frozen.” He tapped his chest. “I saved her.”

He didn’t believe a word of it. “Why not call the police?” Peter was wiggling, trying to get out of his bonds. Maybe he’d succeed if Stone could stall James long enough.

“And end my fun? Besides, I saw her as the perfect lure to get you here.”

What a sick bastard. “So now what?”

James lifted his arm, the gun pointed at his chest. The twitch in James’ cheek told it all. The fun did stop here. “Come with me.”

That wasn’t going to happen. Without hesitating, Stone dove halfway between the two of them and did a tuck and roll. As he jumped up, he shielded his eyes and sprayed pepper spray into James’ face.

James let out a yelp and stumbled backwards.

Go
. He ran at James, who was wiping his eyes. Stone, too, reeled from the spray in the air. Ramming his shoulder into James’ gut, the two tumbled to the ground. His leg rebelled, stealing his breath, but he tucked away the pain. James let out a grunt. Stone used both hands to grab James’ gun. Before he was able to wrest the weapon from his opponent’s grasp, James swung his leg upward and smashed Stone’s side. The impact pushed him away and forced Stone to let go of the weapon.

James turned the gun toward Stone. With a swift side kick, Stone’s foot met bone, and James grunted but kept his aim steady. He pulled the trigger just as Stone rolled to his left. The bullet splintered the glass coffee table behind him.
Close call.

Before James had a chance to fire again, Stone shot to his feet, vaulted at James, and smashed into him. The force caused the gun to fly out of James’ hands and skitter across the floor.

With his right hand, James pushed at Stone’s chest and slammed a fist into his face with the other, temporarily stunning him. Disoriented, James succeeding in shoving him backward, then raced toward the fallen weapon. If Stone lost this fight, more than his life would be at stake. Using every Academy lesson he’d learned, he kicked James’ butt and sent him sprawling. The sound of the man’s knee cracking as it hit the floor sped up Stone’s resolve to win.

As James reached under an end table for his weapon, Stone snatched the spare pistol from his ankle holster and shot. Once, twice.

A splotch of blood colored James’ shoulder. Then a second patch appeared on his side. Two for two. Neither wound appeared lethal. Too bad. James turned and fired. The bullet hit Stone’s arm. Shit.
That burns bad
.

James pulled the trigger once more. Stone expected the second hit to hurt, but he felt nothing. How had James missed from point blank range? The target jumped up, ducked to the side and raced out the room. Another shot rang out. Stone looked before he dashed out of the room to make sure James wasn’t waiting for him around the corner.

Footsteps pounded through the kitchen. Stone went after him. He got off another shot, but the doorframe splintered instead of the man’s body. Damn.

The deadbolt slapped open and the door banged against the wall. James was getting away. Stone charged after him, with one hand clasped over the hole in his arm to stem the blood. As he reached the open door, he stilled.

If he went after James, who would get help for Susan? If James did have backup outside, he’d be running into an ambush. Then where would Susan be?

A loud crash came from the living room. Peter.

He needed to help his friend. He slammed and locked the back door to prevent James from returning with his small army. When he reached the living room, Peter’s chair had toppled with his head on the floor. A large, bloody stain spread out on his chest.

“Hold on.” James had shot his own brother. Christ.

He pulled Peter’s cell from his friend’s top pocket and
called 9-1-1
, asking for two ambulances. Stone raced into the den to make sure Susan’s condition hadn’t deteriorated. She remained still as death on the sofa.

He needed to stop the bleeding in Peter’s chest, then attend to her. He raced to the bathroom and grabbed two towels. He ran back to the kitchen for a knife to free his friend. In less than two minutes, he had Peter on the sofa holding the towel firmly to the wound. Peter’s eyes turned glassy. He was going into shock.

“Hold on, buddy. Help is on the way.”

Stone dashed between Susan and Peter. He feared he’d drop Susan if he moved her to the living room, so he stroked her red cheek and kissed her nose.

“You’re going to make it. I promise.”

* * * *

Harrison and Tom both charged into Susan’s hospital room. Stone jerked upright, his shoulder sending out a piercing stab.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Harrison shouted.

“I wasn’t.”

Stone hadn’t sleep in God knows how long, and his mind wasn’t thinking clearly. His wound hadn’t been serious, or so the paramedics had claimed. The hole sure hurt like hell for something superficial. The fact the doctor had ordered an arm sling confirmed the bullet had done more than just graze him. The shot felt like it took some muscle with it. The doctor had checked his leg, which was healing, and put a few stitches in his arm, insisting he stay the night.

“You walked into a hostage situation without backup.” Harrison got in his face. From the red blotches on his boss’ cheeks, the man’s blood pressure had hit two hundred. “Did you forget everything you learned at the Academy?”

Maybe. “I had exactly ten minutes to get to Susan and Peter before the bastard killed them. If I’d told you right after my phone call that I knew where she was, what would you have done in that time?”

“Told you to go, but we’d have had your back.”

He scratched his bristly scalp. “I’m sorry. I let my heart take over my brain.”

“No shit.”

Tom pulled up a chair across from him. “I checked on Peter. He’s still in surgery.”

“Still?” How long did it take to remove a bullet?

Stone looked over at Susan. Her face was pale, and she was breathing on her own, but the doctors were unsure when she’d wake up, or if she’d wake up. He couldn’t think about her dying. That option was unacceptable. He’d never forgive himself if she didn’t make it.