Redemption Key (A Dani Britton Thriller) (32 page)

He jerked beneath her and she swung the dripping cleat back over her head for another blow and felt a tight hand on her wrist, stopping her. A white canvas sneaker pressed the bloody man’s face against the dock.

Tom.

“What’s this, Dani?”

“You.” She let him pull her to her feet and she did nothing to hide her disgust. “This is who you are? This is who you work with now? You sell kids? You sell babies?”

He held her arm, his eyes wide. When Joaquin groaned, he moved his foot down and pressed it against the man’s bloody throat, cutting off the sound. “What are you talking about?”

“That’s why you’re here, right? To protect this deal?” She could see the words hitting home and she desperately wanted to bury the cleat in his skull. “Is that what kind of man you are? Selling little kids to pervs to play with? You’re nothing like I thought you were. You’re not a man at all.”

Something shifted in his face, something that turned his beautiful eyes hard and alien. If it hadn’t been for the adrenaline, Dani might have been afraid, but she was past fear now.

“What children?”

She looked over her shoulder at the
Pied Piper
. “On that boat. Twenty-five of them. Alone with Juan Wheeler to be sold to Tucker
Bermingham. So which one of them hired you? Huh? Which pedophile signs your paycheck?”

His grip on her wrist tightened to the point of pain, but Dani refused to flinch. He bared his teeth, staring past her toward the boat. She could feel her fingers tingling before he came back to himself, dropping her wrist as if just noticing he held it. Dani didn’t know which was more terrifying—the look of unfiltered rage that had glowed on his face or the ease with which he put it away.

He slid his fingertips over the red marks on her wrist, following her fingers down to the bloody cleat. “Don’t hit him in the forehead. It’s too hard to break. Bring it down on his nose; let the screw go into his brain.”

Dani nodded.

He dropped his gaze from hers. His hands moved slowly. With care, he lifted the neckline of her dress to cover her breast. Then he slipped into the water.

4:18pm, 107° F

Bermingham surprised Oren by throwing him a bar towel when Joaquin left the room. “Put pressure on the wound. He’ll live.”

He dropped to his friend’s side quickly, relieved to see Caldwell conscious and calm. The blood had slowed.

“No talking.”

Oren nodded reassurance to Caldwell while Bermingham paced the floor. Ned stayed in the doorway, scanning the grounds.

“What the hell is taking so long? Where’s Joaquin?”

Ned nodded toward the water. “He went that way to check out the noise.”

“And?”

“And nothing yet. He went behind those shrubs. There’s been no noise, no shots. No boats on the water. Nobody walking around. Maybe he’s taking a leak.”

“This is wrong.” Bermingham shook his head and Oren could hear the anxiety in his voice. “Something’s up. We’ve got to call this. They’re going to blow that boat. Vincente is going to fuck us.”

“Give it another fifteen minutes,” Ned said. “Give Juan a chance to tell Vincente we’re going with cash.”

Bermingham stared down into the inlet, frowning. “Where’s Dani? Where’s that blond kid? Have you seen him?”

“I left him at that shed where she sleeps. He’s sitting right there. Hasn’t moved.”

Bermingham stomped over to Oren and pressed his gun to the side of his face. “Tell me where Dani is.”

“How should I know?” Oren looked up as much as possible past the muzzle.

“Tell me where she is!”

“How?” Oren asked. “I didn’t put a fucking bell on her. She comes and goes as she pleases. You’re the one who’s so tight with her. Aren’t you the one pulling her strings?”

Bermingham stared at him for several beats before lowering his gun.

“This is bullshit. Ned, keep an eye on these two. If either of them moves, shoot them. If anything moves, shoot it. If this deal turns to shit . . .”

4:22pm, 107° F

Dani stood over Joaquin’s bloody body. He labored to breathe, red bubbles popping on his nose and mouth. The cleat weighed a thousand pounds in her hand. She didn’t need to kill him. She needed to get out of there, to find a phone, to get someone who could get those kids off that boat. But Joaquin Wheeler still breathed and that meant he could still be a danger.

And she wanted to kill him.

She had to get to Choo-Choo, find some way to get him out of there too. If Bermingham realized the law was on its way, he’d kill
everyone. He’d kill Mr. Randolph. She didn’t want to care about that but she did. The people she needed to worry about were herself, those kids, and Choo-Choo. Everyone else would have to take care of themselves.

But the cleat felt so heavy in her hands.

It felt so good smashing into Joaquin’s skin.

“Put it down.”

Bermingham stepped through the gap in the shrubbery, his gun trained on her. Dani knew the Canadian was far too savvy to fall for any adolescent seduction scene, especially now, standing over a bloody Wheeler. He kept the gun on her as he crouched, feeling for Joaquin’s pulse. “Shit,” he muttered, moving his fingers through the mess. “Shit.”

“Dani, I swear to God . . .” He straightened and grabbed her by the arm, squeezing it until she had to drop the cleat. “If you have fucked this deal, I swear to God, Dani, I will blow a hole in you big enough to drive through.”

“Fuck you.”

“You have no idea what you’re screwing with, what you’re risking.”

“Fuck you.” She let him jerk her forward. “You fucking pedophile. You filthy panty raider. Get your rocks off on little boys’ tighty-whities. Is that it?”

“Shut your mouth,” he hissed in her ear, but Dani wouldn’t keep it down.

“You like ’em small, Bermie? Huh? Can’t push ’em around when they’re grown up, right?”

She didn’t know what she said, she just knew it felt right to scream. It felt righteous. She barked at him, laughed at him. When he slapped her face, she spit blood on his shirt. When he jerked her forward she tilted her head back and screamed.

“Tucker Bermingham buys little boys to fuck!”

When he put his hand over her mouth, dragging her, she bit his fingers hard enough to break the skin until finally, when he slammed
her head against the deck post of Jinky’s, she slid into blackness, crumpling onto the gravel.

4:36pm, 107° F

Oren heard footsteps coming up the stairs to the deck. The blond came through first, propelled by a kick from Bermingham. Oren couldn’t tell who looked angrier, the kid or the Canadian, and he didn’t care. All he could focus on was the limp body of Dani draped over Bermingham’s shoulder, blood dripping from her forehead. Ned hopped to attention, grabbing the blond and holding him at gunpoint. Bermingham lowered Dani to the floor. Oren didn’t miss the way he cradled her head.

“Get Juan on the phone.” Bermingham yanked the screwdriver from around Dani’s neck, tossing it several feet away. “I don’t know who she’s working for. I don’t know what’s going on, but Joaquin is dead. If she’s fucked us, if Vincente sent her to fuck us, she’s going to regret drawing her next breath. Get him on the phone.”

“I’ve been trying,” Ned said. “While you were gone. No answer.”

“Shit!” Bermingham grabbed the blond. Although tall, the kid had none of the Canadian’s bulk. He also didn’t have a gun and so didn’t resist when Bermingham pressed the weapon underneath his jaw. “Who do you work for?”

“Casper van Dosen.”

“Who?”

Oren shook his head. Did this kid have a death wish?

“Casper van Dosen. I was supposed to start tonight on the sunset cruise.” He rolled his eyes toward the deck. “I suspect I’ve missed my launch. No chance you’re hiring, eh?”

“Shit!” Bermingham threw the kid toward the bar where Oren sat willing himself into invisibility. The kid stumbled, falling to one
knee before straightening up and settling onto a barstool. It was an odd thing to see. The kid was graceful, the stumble out of place. It was then Oren saw what Bermingham didn’t.

He’d kicked the screwdriver closer to Dani.

Dani’s hand slid over the handle as Bermingham stood with his back to them all, scowling at Ned. The kid sat half-perched on the edge of the stool, his long fingers wrapped around the stool’s leg on his right side. Oren knew all the signs of a bar fight when he saw them.