No Turning Back (30 page)

James gave me a shove and I stumbled forward, quickly turning so my back wouldn't be toward him. I was wary now, realizing that I was in the presence of the man who had most likely killed Sheila. I recalled how James' moods changed so rapidly, charming and gentle one moment, furiously angry the next, and it struck me how apt his 'Mercury' moniker was.

I knew Blane hadn't done it, no matter what Gracie had said. I may not trust him but I knew he wouldn't have committed the horrendous act I saw that night.

Leisurely taking off his mask, James moved towards me and the smile he wore made a chill run down my spine. As he moved into the light, I was taken aback to see the mask had been hiding a black eye, and with a jolt, I remembered Blane's raw knuckles.

"I think you have some explaining to do," he said quietly.

I shook my head, backing away from him. "I don't know what you're talking about." I was proud that my voice didn't shake. My eyes darted around the room frantically for anything I could use as a weapon.

James stalked me, his eyes taking on that unhinged look that was terrifying. I tried to look for a way past him to escape out the door, but there wasn't a path beyond his reach. I decided to try my luck anyway. Grabbing a stack of books from the shelf, I threw them at him his head and darted past to the door.

I heard him curse and the door was inches away when his hand grabbed hold of my hair. I was brought up short and yelped in pain. He dragged me backward toward him and I was helpless to do anything about it. He ripped the mask off my face and paused before a short, humorless laugh issued from him.

"Kathleen. I must say, you've surprised me. I didn't know this was your sort of thing." Releasing my hair, he turned me to face him, his hands closing with brutal force on my upper arms.

"Why are you here?" he demanded. I raised my face to his and felt anger building inside me. I was tired of being pushed around by James and if he was going to kill me, and I was pretty sure that was on the agenda, then he was going to tell me the truth first.

"I'm here because I wanted to know who killed my friend, Sheila," I said through gritted teeth. "Why did you do it, James?" I asked. "What did she ever do to you that she deserved to be killed like that?"

Whatever he thought I was going to say, that obviously wasn't it. "What are you talking about?" he said, his face creasing in confusion. "Sheila's dead?" His hands loosened slightly on my arms. "They told me that her boyfriend made her quit."

"She was murdered," I said accusingly. I wasn't sure if I believed that this was new information to him. It was too convenient.

"And you think I did it?" he said angrily. "What kind of screwed up fuck do you think I am, Kathleen?" He shook me roughly.

"The kind of screwed up fuck who gave me a black eye," I shot back, refusing to be cowed. He abruptly released me as if he'd been burned, stepping away from me slightly.

"I didn't mean to do that," he said roughly. "I was...upset."

"What else do you do when you're upset?" I persisted, pressing my advantage. "Do you slit someone's throat, James? Because that's how I found Sheila."

"I didn't kill her!" he insisted angrily, shoving his fingers through his hair. "I'm running for office, Kathleen. Why would I screw that up by killing someone?"

"I would think that might be exactly why you'd kill her," I replied. James was suddenly in my face again as he grabbed my arms and I winced in pain.

"You can't think that," he said urgently, shaking me again. "You're going to ruin everything. You have to believe me!"

"You're hurting me," I managed to say, trying to pull away from him.

"What's going on here?" We both turned and I sagged in relief to see someone else had entered the room. Another man, mask still intact, stood in the open doorway. James immediately removed his hands from my arms.

"Dad," he said, "it's nothing. Kathleen and I were just having a disagreement." As if I couldn't get any more shocks tonight, I watched as William Gage, Sr., calmly shut the door and walked forward, removing his mask as he did so.

"Good evening, Kathleen," he said cordially.

I nervously acknowledged his greeting with a nod, not knowing what else to do in a strange situation that was becoming even stranger. I wondered, a little hysterically, if the entire firm was here.

"What kind of disagreement?" he asked, turning toward James who was obviously still rattled. He paced the floor, repeatedly pushing his hand through his hair.

"She thinks I killed Sheila!" he burst out, pointing an accusing finger at me. I didn't say anything.

"Sheila who?" Mr. Gage asked, unperturbed.

"That whore I was with a few weeks ago," James clarified, and before I could think better of it, I'd stridden forward and slapped him.

"Don't call her that," I spat at him. "She was a good friend and just trying to make it the best she could. She didn't deserve to die like she did." James grabbed my arm again, fury in his eyes, and I flinched, expecting a blow. But his father brought him up short.

"James," he said, steel in his voice. "Release her." I waited. After a moment, James reluctantly let me go. I breathed a sigh of relief, hurriedly stepping beyond his reach.

"Kathleen," Mr. Gage said politely, "of course James didn't kill that woman. He may be a bully but he's certainly not a murderer."

"Then who did?" I asked him, still not wanting to let go of my suspicions. Mr. Gage smiled and I felt a chill go through me.

"She was collateral damage, my dear. A warning, if you will." My jaw dropped and I stumbled backward, away from him. James appeared to share my shock as he looked at his father in horror.

"What?" I stammered. "A warning for what? But why? I don't understand." I couldn't believe the nice gentleman I'd known and respected as the head of the firm could be behind something so heinous. Mark's suspicion that Sheila had been killed because of him echoed in my ears.

"There are lots of things you don't understand, Kathleen," he said condescendingly. "My son is in a very unique position. About to be elected as District Attorney, as I'm sure you've heard. Sheila's death was necessary to help keep...certain people...in line. People who would try to thwart those plans."

"You killed Sheila and framed Mark," I accused, furious. Mark had been right after all. Sheila's murder had been a message to him. "And then when he didn't do what you wanted, you had him killed, too."

"Of course not," Mr. Gage replied, "Mark committed suicide. The police were quite sure about that."

I swallowed heavily, my mouth suddenly dry. Whereas James was scary because of his lack of control, his father was terrifying because he was so controlled. He told me all this as if he were talking about the weather, the only emotion in his voice was when he allowed his feelings for James to show. And I'd seen enough movies to know what happens when the killer finally confesses. I wasn't going to be allowed to leave the room alive.

"Jimmy!" Mr. Gage called, and the door behind him opened. I sucked in a breath when I saw Jimmy Quicksilver standing there.

"Yes, sir?" he said, taking in the scene in the room with a quick cold glance.

"Jimmy, this lovely lady has been too inquisitive for her own good. Would you be so kind as to...assist...her from the premises?" Jimmy's eyes flicked to mine and my palms started to sweat.

"Absolutely," he said with a leer, entering the room and heading toward me.

"No!" James shouted. "Dad, you can't-!" James was cut off by a loud crack as Mr. Gates backhanded him across the face.

"Shut up, Junior," Mr. Gage hissed at him. "This is for your benefit, you know." I tried easing slowly toward the door while their attention was diverted but was abruptly stopped by Jimmy.

"Touch me and I'll scream," I threatened. He laughed.

"Well, we can take care of that." Pulling off his bowtie, he handed it to Mr. Gage. "Gag her. I'll hold her." That's when I began fighting for my life, kicking and scratching anything within reach, screaming bloody murder.

Jimmy twisted my arm up behind me and I cried out in pain. "That's enough of that," he hissed in my ear. "Now be a good girl and hold still." I pressed my lips firmly closed but Mr. Gage was able to yank the fabric into my mouth, my teeth cutting my lip when he did so. I tried to meet James' eyes, begging for his help, but he turned away, unable to look at me. Bitter despair rose inside me.

"Give me your tie, James," Mr. Gage demanded. A moment later, Jimmy was tying my hands behind my back, cinching the knots so tightly that numbness set in almost immediately.

"That should do it," Mr. Gage said. "Now take care of it and let me know when it's done." He turned away, dismissing us. Jimmy dragged me out the door and down the dimly lit hall.

We reached the front door and stepped outside. I tried to think. As much as I could, I dragged my feet, but he was too strong. Once we were on the porch, he pulled me away from the door, backing me up against the wall.

"Out of sight, out of mind," he breathed quietly, leering at me. His eyes focused on my bleeding lip. "I don't think I'll kill you right away," he mused, almost as if he was talking to himself. "We can have some fun first." His tongue darted out, licking the blood off my lip and I shivered in revulsion.

"If you're really good," he said, "I may even keep you alive for a day or two." I looked at him with hatred in my eyes. I was not going to let him rape me before he killed me, and certainly not for days on end. Snapping my head forward, I made contact with the bridge of his nose and he yelped in pain. I braced myself for retaliation and it came swiftly as he buried his fist in my stomach. I doubled over, the pain excruciating and nausea bubbling inside me. I though somewhat hysterically that if I threw up now I'd die from asphyxiation, which might be better than whatever Jimmy had planned for me.

"Let the girl go." I heard the words and tried to straighten up even though my insides felt like they were on fire. Jimmy was frozen in place by the gun Blane had pressed to his temple.

"I said, let her go." Blane's voice was colder than ice and I heard the distinctive click of the gun's hammer being cocked.

"Kirk," Jimmy said, "you're messing with stuff you should leave alone. Walk away and I'll forget we had this little conversation."

"Not gonna happen, Jimmy," Blane said. "Let her go or you die."

Jimmy's eyes were still on mine and I saw him smile. It sent chills through me. In a sudden movement, he spun toward Blane, knocking the gun away and it clattered to the ground. Instantly, a knife was in his hand and I screamed around the gag as he went after Blane, who leapt backward out of the way. They grappled and Jimmy let out a cackle of laughter.

I watched in horror, not breathing, as Blane twisted and dodged the glittering knife. I winced when he didn't move fast enough and the knife came away red. Blane's hand locked around Jimmy's wrist and I heard a sickening crack. Jimmy cried out in pain, the knife clattering to the ground. Blane's fist landed in Jimmy's face and blood spurted from his nose. Without the knife, Jimmy was no match for Blane, though he did land a few hits. Within moments, Blane had pummeled Jimmy until he'd collapsed face down on the cold ground. Blane quickly retrieved his gun and headed toward where I stood, now several feet away.

"Time to go," Blane said, breathing heavily from the exertion. I noticed the arm of his tuxedo had been sliced. A movement behind him caught my eye.

I screamed helplessly around the gag, my eyes wide. Without turning, Blane dove into me, shoving me to the ground and my head cracked painfully on the concrete. I heard the knife whiz by overhead and bury itself in a tree behind us. Flipping over onto his back, Blane squeezed off a single shot and Jimmy didn't move any more.

"You all right?" Blane asked, helping me to my feet. I nodded, deciding the pain in the back of my head was well worth avoiding the pain from the knife. He took my arm, hustling me down the stairs to the sidewalk. A car pulled up and I stopped, afraid of whom it might contain.

"That's our ride," Blane said, tugging me forward. Pulling open the back door, he helped me climb inside then sat beside me.

"Go," he ordered the driver, who wasted no time in complying.

"It's about fucking time. Thought you were going to need help." This from Kade who was driving. Somehow, I wasn't surprised to see him.

"Not likely," Blane retorted. I watched as Blane pulled out a switch blade, flicking it open to reveal a wicked looking knife. He leaned toward me and I flinched away. My heart was still pounding and I was a hair's breadth away from complete hysterics. He stopped and our eyes met in the darkness.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Kat," he said softly. "I just want to get the gag off. Will you let me do that?" He blurred a bit and I blinked back tears, nodding. Leaning forward again, he quickly cut the gag, pulling it out of my mouth.

"Turn around," he said, and I obediently shifted so my back was to him. He cut the bonds on my wrists and I could feel the blood rushing back into my hands. Turning me back around, he studied me while I resolutely kept my eyes focused on my hands in my lap.

I felt the brush of a cloth against my lip. Blane was wiping away the blood from my cut mouth. After a moment, his hand was beneath my chin, urging me to look at him. Reluctantly I did, expecting to see anger there, especially after hitting him over the head with a candlestick earlier. Instead, I saw nothing but worry.

"Are you all right?" he asked, tracing my jaw with his thumb. "Did he hurt you?" His concern was my undoing and tears began streaming from my eyes. Blane gathered me in his arms, shifting me so I sat on his lap, and I pressed my face into the crook between his neck and shoulder. I tried to stifle my sobs. At this point, I didn't care if Blane was a bad guy or not. He'd saved me.

Blane held me close and the feel of his arms around me made me finally feel safe. After a few minutes, I was able to regain control of myself, my breathing shaky and scattered.

"Is she done yet?" Kade asked impatiently.

"Shut the fuck up, Kade," Blane retorted.