Security Blanket (11 page)

“Kinley?” Lucky practically shouted into the phone. That was his sister’s voice all right—or else a very good imitation. “Is it really you?”

“Yes. You have to tell that man to leave. You have to come now.”

He wanted to do just that. But he had to think of Marin and her safety. “How do I know it’s really you?”

Lucky heard some whispered chatter between the women on the other end of the line. The woman next to him, however, sat silent and frozen. She was probably as stunned as he was.

“When I was six,” the caller said, “you made me a dollhouse out of Popsicle sticks. You painted it lime-green.”

Hell. It was Kinley.

Now, the question was, what was he going to do about it?

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Marin said, making the decision for him. His gaze snapped to hers, but she offered no apology. “We have to do this.”

They did. But how?

“Sixty seconds,” Brenna said, coming back on the line. “Tell your PI friend to get lost and come to the drive-in. Park just beneath the movie screen. Oh, and Bacelli, if you do anything stupid, your sister is the one who’ll pay the price.”

“Let’s go,” Marin said the moment that Brenna ended the call.

Lucky tried to push aside all his doubt, but he couldn’t. He was taking Marin directly into the line of fire.

“Get in the backseat,” he instructed Marin while he called Burney Rickman. “Burney, make it look as if you’re leaving. But stay nearby, hidden, just in case I need you.”

“Will do.”

Lucky started the engine and drove toward the drive-in.

“There’s no reason for me to stay in the backseat,” Marin insisted. “I have a gun.” She took the snub-nosed .38 from her purse. “And I’m not a bad shot.”

“Doesn’t matter. I don’t intend for you to be doing any shooting.”

She mumbled some protest, but thankfully did as he said. The backseat wasn’t bulletproof, but if something went wrong, she wouldn’t be an easy target.

Lucky didn’t turn on the car headlights. Though Brenna had him under surveillance, he didn’t want to announce his arrival to anyone else. This was a complicated game with a lot of potential players, and what mattered most was surviving this so that he could get Marin and his sister out of there.

He approached the drive-in slowly. Cautiously. On one side was the concession building and projection room. The windows were all shattered. No doors. The concrete-block building was blistered with what was left of flamingo-pink paint.

On the other side of the drive-in was a thirty-foot-wide screen, that had essentially been a white wall, but it was now pocked with baseball-size holes. Moonlight spewed onto the ground, which was littered with metal poles that had once held speakers. Now, though, it looked more like some eerie haunted obstacle course.

Lucky checked his mirror to make sure Marin was staying down and came to a stop where the speaker rows began. He waited, the seconds ticking off in his head.

The phone rang again, and he snatched it up while keeping a vigilant watch on their surroundings. “Drive forward,” Brenna instructed. “Stop directly in front of the center of the movie screen.”

Of course. The center. The most vulnerable spot. Too vulnerable. And that meant it was time to set some ground rules of his own.

“I have a better idea. You drive forward, too, and meet me halfway. We both stop in the center.” He made sure it wasn’t a suggestion.

More seconds ticked by. He could hear the rapid jolts of Marin’s breath. The wind. The pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears.

“All right,” Brenna finally conceded. “But remember, I have your sister.”

“And remember that I have something you want or you wouldn’t have demanded this meeting.”

Though Lucky didn’t have a clue what it was that he had. Hopefully, it was something he could use to bargain so he could get his sister and Marin safely out of there.

Brenna ended the call again, and Lucky proceeded to drive forward.

“You think this is a trap?” Marin asked.

“I just don’t know.” He had a bad feeling, but then it would have been worse if he’d decided not to come.

He spotted the other car. A black two door. It crawled across the grounds toward him, and they stopped at the same time. About ten feet apart.

“Stay put for now,” Lucky told Marin. He drew his gun and held it against his leg. After saying a quick prayer that firing wouldn’t become necessary, he stepped out of the car, using the door for cover.

A moment later, the door to Brenna’s car opened. There was a shuffle of movement, and two women emerged from the driver’s side. A tall blond with a sturdy build who dragged the other woman from the vehicle. The other woman, a brunette, was practically frail in comparison, at least six inches shorter and twenty pounds lighter.

Because the brunette had her head hung low, it took him a moment to realize it was indeed Kinley. His sister was there, right in front of him.

And Brenna had a gun pointed at Kinley’s head.

His sister had lost some weight, but other than that she looked the same. Short dark brown hair. The Bacelli eyes. One thing was for certain, unless this was some kind of hologram, she was very much alive.

He wanted to go to her. To hug her. To tell her how relieved he was that she was alive. All these months he’d grieved for her and blamed himself for not doing more to save her. But she’d already been saved.

Well, maybe.

After all, Brenna was holding the gun, and it was clear that Kinley was her hostage.

“I’m sorry, Lucky.” Kinley was hoarse, and judging from the puffiness around her eyes, she’d been crying.

It took Lucky a moment to find his breath and another moment before he could speak. “What happened to you?”

But Brenna didn’t let her answer. “I think Kinley’s the one who’s been trying to kill me.”

Kinley shook her head, her hair swishing against the gun. “No. I didn’t try to kill anyone. But someone tried to murder me. Many times.”

Lucky wanted to know every detail about what’d happened the last year, but first things first. “Brenna, you need to put down the gun so we can all talk.”

“Where’s Marin Sheppard?” she asked, obviously ignoring Lucky’s request.

He tipped his head to the backseat. “There’s no reason to bring her into this. Marin just got out of the hospital, and she’s not up to another confrontation.”

Brenna jammed the gun harder against Kinley’s head. “There are plenty of reasons to bring her into this. Get her out here now, or this meeting is over.”

Lucky believed her. Apparently so did Marin because she stepped from the car and lifted her hands in a show of surrender. However, when she joined Lucky behind the door, he could see that she had her gun tucked in the back waist of her jeans. Maybe Marin wouldn’t need to use it, but he hated that she was right back in the middle of danger.

“I want to know where Dexter is,” Brenna demanded of Marin.

“Is he alive?” Marin demanded right back.

A sound of pure frustration left Brenna’s mouth. “I figured you’d be the one person who could tell me that.”

“I honestly don’t know,” Marin assured her. “In fact, I thought all three of you were dead. But now that you’re here, I’d like to know if my brother is alive.”

“So would we,” Kinley agreed. “If he is, he hasn’t shown his face. Not to me, anyway. Brenna thought you’d been in contact with him.”

Kinley’s comment earned her another jab from Brenna’s gun, and it took every ounce of Lucky’s willpower not to charge at the woman to stop her from further hurting his kid sister. But he couldn’t do that. It would put them all at risk. Brenna was obviously on the edge.

“Why don’t you put down that weapon,” Lucky tried again. “We’re all in the same boat here. Someone’s tried to kill all of us, and we need to figure out who the enemy is.”

Brenna continued to grip the weapon. “Well, it’s not me.”

“Nor me,” Kinley insisted.

“I’m not a killer. I didn’t try to run myself down with a truck,” Lucky clarified.

Marin glanced at all of them. “I wouldn’t have risked my son’s life in a train explosion.” Then, she stared at Kinley. “But maybe you did?”

“No!” And Kinley continued to repeat it.

“But you were on the train,” Lucky reminded her. God, he hated to do this, to accuse her, especially under these circumstances while she was held at gunpoint. But it had to be done. And if she had endangered Noah and Marin, then heaven help her. Being his sister wouldn’t give her immunity from his rage.

“I got on the train because of a note that threatened to kill you. And someone else,” she added in a whisper. “But I didn’t set those explosives. Once I got on, I checked the suitcase, and it was empty.”

“Someone sent you on the train with an empty suitcase?” Marin clarified, though it was more like an accusation.

“Yes,” Kinley insisted.

Brenna shook her head. “There’s too much missing information from her story. And it just doesn’t make sense. A threatening note. An empty suitcase. An explosion, and she comes out of it without a scratch.” Brenna spoke in raw anger, but Lucky thought she had a valid point.

“Who threatened to kill me, Kinley?” Lucky wanted to know. But his sister didn’t answer. Apparently stunned by his demand and his rough tone, she just stared at him. “Dexter? Who?” Lucky pressed.

His phone rang again. He cursed. It was the worst timing possible. Still, he had to answer it in case something had gone wrong at the ranch.

“It’s Rickman,” the PI said. “We have a visitor. He arrived on foot and is coming up on the side of the concession stand. Judging from those pictures you e-mailed me, it’s Grady Duran, one of your suspects.”

Not just a suspect. The primary one.

“You want me to detain him?” Rickman asked.

Lucky snared Brenna’s attention. “Grady Duran is here. You want him to join this meeting so we can get everything out in the open?”

“No,” Brenna said at the same moment that Kinley said, “Yes.”

“We need to know the truth,” Kinley added.

Lucky agreed with her. “Escort him to where we are. Disarm him first, and if he does anything stupid, pound him to dust.”

“You can’t trust Duran,” Brenna said the moment he hung up.

“I can’t trust you, either,” Lucky reminded her. “Now, while we’re waiting, how about an answer to my question. Kinley, who threatened to kill me?”

“I don’t know. The threats came by anonymous e-mail.”

“And you believed them?” Lucky asked.

Her eyes filled with tears. “I had to believe them. You weren’t the only one they threatened. They threatened the child, too.”

“Noah?” Marin immediately asked.

“No.
My
child.”

Lucky damn sure hadn’t expected her to say that.

“She had a baby four months ago,” Brenna supplied. “Dexter’s baby.”

The tears began to spill down his sister’s cheeks. “I left him with someone for safekeeping. Someone had been trying to kill me, and the person said he’d go after my son. I couldn’t risk it.”

Lucky waited a moment, hoping to process all of that. Here he’d just learned his sister was alive, and now there was another child involved in all of this mess?

“And this person threatened to hurt your child if you didn’t carry that suitcase onto the train?” Marin asked.

“It’s me, Rickman,” the PI called out before Kinley could respond. “I’ve got Grady Duran with me.”

Everyone’s attention shifted in the direction of his voice. Lucky didn’t have any trouble spotting the two men. The bulkier, meaner looking Rickman had a death grip on Duran, but Duran wasn’t protesting. In fact, he seemed pleased to be present.

And that made Lucky very uneasy.

Lucky looked at Marin to see what her take was on all of this. Her too-fast breathing said it all. This had turned into a nightmare. But at least it had the potential to put an end to the danger.

“Keep a close watch on Duran,” Lucky warned the PI.

“Finally, we’re all together,” Duran said, sparing each of them a glance before he settled on the gun Brenna was still holding on Kinley. “Either you two have learned how to return from the dead or else you’ve been hiding because you’re guilty of stealing the plans for the chemical weapon. Which is it?”

“I didn’t steal anything,” Kinley insisted.

Brenna didn’t deny it. “Are you the one who’s trying to kill all of us?”

But any one of them could have asked the same question.

The corner of Duran’s mouth hitched. “If Dexter’s behind this, then he must be somewhere nearby laughing his butt off. He gets us all to turn against each other. Or better yet, kill each other. When the dust settles, he’ll be the last man standing. And he’ll have the plans for my chemical weapon.”

“You don’t own that weapon,” Brenna pointed out.

“I’m the primary shareholder. Or maybe I should say, I’m the one who got stuck holding the proverbial bag when all of you decided to go into hiding.” He rammed his thumb against his chest. “I’m the one who’d put up the most money, and I’m the one who had to answer the threatening lawsuits and letters from the silent partner that Dexter conned into investing in this project.”

“Silent partner?” Lucky questioned. This was the first he was hearing of this.

As if she’d noticed something, Brenna suddenly jerked her head to the right, toward the old screen. Lucky looked in that direction, as well, though he’d heard nothing other than the wind and the normal sounds of the night.

Hell. Was Dexter about to join them? It didn’t sound like footsteps. More like a click. Like the wind catching a piece of that tattered movie screen.

Brenna shook her head. Cursed. She curved her forearm around Kinley’s neck and began to maneuver her back toward the car.

Lucky couldn’t let them leave. For one thing, Brenna might truly kill his sister. And for another, he was going to get answers.

“Brenna,” he said, trying to soothe her. He stepped away from the meager protection of the car door and inched his way toward the two women. Unfortunately, Marin was right behind him. “Don’t leave.”

She didn’t listen. Brenna shoved Kinley into the car, pushing her into the passenger’s seat.

“It’s probably just the wind,” Lucky let her know, going even closer. “But I’ll check it out, just to make sure.”