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Authors: Lena Diaz

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Suspense, #ROMANCE - - SUSPENSE

The Bodyguard (15 page)

BOOK: The Bodyguard
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Daniel continued to his car and got in without glancing toward Luke, who was parked in the shadow of some oak trees on the street. Luke waited until Daniel turned the corner. Then he floored the gas and headed after him.

* * *

C
AROL
STUMBLED
AND
fell onto the hard concrete floor. The door slammed shut behind her before she could make it to her feet.

“Grant,” she called out. “Please, don’t do this! Let me out of here.”

The sound of his footsteps rapidly walking away was his only response.

She ran to the door and tried the knob, unsurprised to find it locked. The upper part of the door was glass, but on top of the glass were iron bars. No way out, unless she could figure out how to pick the lock. That was one “lesson” Richard had never taught her.

She made a quick circuit of the room. A row of tiny windows near the top of the ceiling were too high for her to reach. A fluorescent light illuminated the small room, which wasn’t much bigger than her master-bedroom closet at the mansion. The walls were concrete. And there was nothing inside the room, not even a chair to sit in. She moved back to the door. If she was going to get out of here, it would have to be through the door. Somehow she had to figure out a way to get it open.

Would Grant really hurt her? She’d thought so, at first. He’d certainly been rough as he yanked her out of the car and shoved her in front of him, forcing her to go into the processing plant. But he’d turned solicitous, taking her to the restroom and waiting outside for her. Then he’d taken her to an office where he had sandwiches and drinks waiting in a cooler. They’d both eaten in tense silence. She tried to glance around, looking for a way to escape without seeming obvious. He checked the time on his cell phone every few minutes.

They sat in the little office for hours. Every one of her attempts at conversation had been met with stony silence. He’d become more and more agitated the later it got, and when the last of the sunlight disappeared from the windows and he was forced to turn on some lights, he swore and grabbed her arm. He tugged her after him and gave her another chance to use the restroom. She took advantage of every minute he gave her, testing the windows, looking for something she could use as a weapon. He must have grown suspicious at how long it was taking her, because he came in as she was trying to pull a paper-towel dispenser off the wall.

His eyes had narrowed dangerously and, without a word, he’d brought her to this room and threw her inside.

Footsteps sounded again down the hall. She peered into the gloom. A moment later, Grant appeared, carrying what looked like little pieces of paper in one hand and a roll of duct tape in the other.

She moved back from the door, rubbing her wrists at the memory of the tape he’d wrapped around them earlier. But he didn’t open the door. Instead, he ripped a piece of tape off the roll and used it to hold the pieces of paper in place on the glass part of the door.

When he was done, he tossed the roll down and motioned her forward.

She hesitated, then moved to the door. She glanced at the papers and realized they were computer printouts of pictures. She gasped and pressed her hand to her mouth when she realized who was in the pictures—Grant’s wife and daughter. They were both tied up, blindfolded, gagged. Carol couldn’t even tell if they were alive or dead.

Her gaze flew to Grant’s.

“I didn’t kill Richard, or that photographer.” His voice sounded muted through the thick glass. “But I did kill Leslie, and I’ll kill you, too, if I have to.” He tapped the glass above the pictures. “Daniel took them, Caroline. And if I don’t do what he wants, he’ll kill them.” He tapped the glass again. “I would do anything for them, Caroline. Anything. Even if that means slaughtering you like one of the cows they butcher in this place.”

He turned on his heel and disappeared down the hallway.

Carol sank to the floor and covered her face with her hands.

Chapter Sixteen

Daniel Ashton didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get home. Then again, he didn’t have anyone waiting for him. He was single, never married, no girlfriends or even close friends that Alex’s investigator had been able to find. The P.I. had called while Luke tailed Daniel through the city. The only real news he’d been able to tell Luke was that he’d traced Stellar Security through dozens of holding companies to its real owner.

Daniel Ashton.

Luke had immediately called Cornell and told him the news. He also reminded Cornell that Mitch had once worked for Stellar Security and had quit to work for Luke. While Mitch had never shared the details of why he’d quit, Luke knew something ugly had happened while he’d worked there.

Luke would lay odds that the “something ugly” had to do with Daniel Ashton, either directly or indirectly. And now Mitch was dead. Luke had had a crash course today during all those phone calls about the Ashton brothers, and it wasn’t a pretty picture his contacts had painted.

The brothers had always been rivals, but with Richard and Daniel in particular, that rivalry went to extremes. Carol was the one who’d told Luke that Daniel didn’t visit the mansion much anymore. And while Luke didn’t have proof yet, he’d heard speculation that the reason for that was because Richard and Daniel had gone after the same acquisition, a business takeover, and Richard had come out the winner.

Daniel had never forgiven him.

The business Richard bought had taken him from millionaire to billionaire in less than a year. But Daniel was still a mere millionaire and appeared to blame his brother. The only question was, did he blame his brother enough to kill him over it? Or had the other brother held a grudge no one knew about and
he
was the one who’d decided to shoot Richard?

At this point, Luke didn’t care which one had killed Richard. They were both dangerous, a pit of vipers. But they were still family, and Luke was betting Carol’s life that there was a bond between the two brothers, a bond that meant that Daniel knew where Grant was.

* * *

D
ANIEL
SMILED
AT
the waitress and stood to leave the restaurant Luke had tailed him to half an hour earlier.

Luke held a menu up in front of him. As soon as Daniel went outside, Luke would scramble after him again and see where else the man went.

“Mr. Dawson, fancy seeing you here.”

Luke slowly lowered his menu.

Daniel Ashton stood beside the table, staring down at him as if he were the worst kind of vermin, his mouth curling in contempt. “Why are you following me?”

Luke tossed the menu on the table and slid out of the booth. He rose to his full height, which was only an inch taller than Ashton, but it was enough to make Daniel’s smug look fade. He seemed to assess the breadth of Luke’s shoulders as they stood toe to toe.

“Where is she?” Luke asked.

Daniel arched a brow. “‘She’? I’m sure I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Luke grabbed Ashton’s lapels and slammed him against the nearest wall.

Diners at the next table gasped in shock. Excited voices rose from the nearby waiters.

Luke ignored all of them and pressed his hand against Daniel’s throat. “Tell me where she is, you filthy piece of—”

“Now, now,” Daniel clucked. “No reason to act so uncivilized, Mr. Dawson.”

“Sir, you need to let him go before we call the police.”

Luke glanced over his shoulder. A group of five men stood behind him. Three appeared to be waiters. The others, judging by their clothing, were the bartender and the restaurant manager.

“You heard the man, Dawson. Let me go. Now.”

The laughter in Ashton’s voice had Luke gritting his teeth. He forced his hands to relax their death grip on the other man’s lapels and he took a step back.

Daniel straightened his collar, frowning at the wrinkles Luke had made. He flicked the fabric and gave Luke a smile that didn’t come close to reaching his cold, dead eyes.

“You should try the filet mignon in this restaurant, Mr. Dawson,” he said. “I hear the meat’s never frozen. It’s freshly butchered.” He laughed as if at a private joke and headed out the front door.

Luke moved to follow, but the restaurant manager stepped in front of him. “Hold it, sir. I think you should sit and calm down. Whatever happened between you two—”

Luke shoved the man out of his way and ran through the double doors to the street.

The sound of squealing tires had him turning to see Ashton’s green BMW speeding away. Daniel lifted a hand out the window, waving, before the car turned down a side street and disappeared.

Luke cursed viciously and ran to his car. But ten minutes later he pulled to the curb and slammed his fist against the dash. No sign of Daniel Ashton. His last link to the man who’d taken Carol was gone.

Or was it?

He stilled, thinking about the list of holdings on his phone and the last words Daniel had thrown at him.

You really should try the filet mignon. It’s freshly butchered.

He fumbled for his phone and opened the email. He quickly scrolled through the list. Yes, there, on the fifth page—
Matheson’s Beef Packing Plant.
Sweat broke out on his brow.

Oh, God. Please. Don’t let her die like that.

He slammed his foot on the accelerator and rocketed away from the curb, praying harder than he’d ever prayed in his life that he wouldn’t be too late.

* * *

C
AROL
SHIVERED
IN
the concrete room. It might have been hot outside, but the air-conditioning in the plant kept it chilly, and the longer she was there the colder she became. As minutes ticked away and Grant didn’t return, she began to wonder if it wouldn’t be better to just try to go to sleep and hope she was cold enough to succumb to hypothermia. It had to be a better way to die than whatever her brother-in-law had planned for her.

She closed her eyes and leaned her head on her arms, resting on top of her drawn-up knees. Footsteps sounded outside the room, but not just one set. This time, there were two. She jerked her head up. Grant rounded the corner, and beside him was Daniel.

The chill that went through her had nothing to do with the temperature in the room.

The men stopped at the door.

“Open it,” Daniel ordered.

“Not until you tell me where you’re holding Susan and Patty. That was the deal.”

Daniel calmly raised his hand and shot Grant in the forehead. He dropped to the floor like a rock.

Carol screamed.

Daniel pointed the gun at her through the glass. “Shut up.”

She clamped her shaking hands over her mouth.

He took out a handkerchief and wiped the specks of his brother’s blood off his face. He put the handkerchief in his suit pocket then unlocked and opened the door. “Hello, there, dear sister-in-law. It’s been a while, if we don’t count that little visit at the hospital, or the exchange of pleasantries at the funeral. Before that, I hadn’t seen you in a year or more, I suppose.”

He clucked his tongue and shook his head as he stepped into the room. “Not my choice, I assure you. Entirely your late husband’s. Tell me—” he crouched down in front of her and used his gun to tilt her chin up “—did you miss me? No? I missed you very much. You see, I’ve always wanted you.” He slid the cold barrel of the gun down the side of her neck, then across her lower lip. “Grant wasn’t the only person who argued with Richard. He and I argued, too, about business and money mostly. But that wasn’t
all
we argued about.”

He slid the gun lower, until it pressed against the valley between her breasts.

Carol flinched and flattened herself against the wall behind her.

He smiled, as if delighted by her reaction. “Richard caught me sneaking into your room when you’d gone to bed early one night. I’d told him I wasn’t feeling well and wanted to lie down in the guest room for a bit before driving back home. I guess he didn’t trust me, so he checked on me at a most inopportune moment.” He laughed. “I wanted you. And he wouldn’t let me have you. And that’s the
real
reason he died.” He grimaced. “Unfortunately, dear old Grant over there suspected I was up to no good. It’s a long story, really, and I don’t have the time. Suffice it to say, I have contacts in security, and I knew exactly where you went every time you left the house. I knew Leslie was helping you.” He shook his head. “She paid for that, of course, after doing me a favor or two. Like switching wills.”

“I...don’t understand.” She tried to keep calm, to keep him talking, stalling for time. “Why would you switch wills? You didn’t get much money in the will Leslie filed.”

He shook his head. “Still haven’t figured it out, have you? I didn’t want all that money going to Grant. I wanted it for myself. I knew the courts would suspect something if I got the bulk of the estate, so I played it the other way. I would have gotten all the money eventually, of course. When I married you.”

She shivered with revulsion.

His smile faded. “Richard would have knocked you flat for that.” His eyes flashed with anger. “I’d planned on killing him at that little cottage of yours and framing Grant. You know, two birds, one stone. But ‘Grant the pest’ followed me, walked right in after I shot Richard. From then on, it was all about damage control. I’d hoped to make Grant look like a lunatic, a three-way loversʼ triangle. I was having fun framing him for everything I was doing, but things got so screwed up.”

Nausea coiled in her stomach. She pointed at the pictures on the glass door. “What about Grant’s family? They never did anything to you.”

“True. Their fate is regrettable, I agree. They were nice enough to me. But they’re collateral damage. Nothing anyone can do for them now.”

Carol looked past him to the open doorway.

His brows rose. “Thinking you can get by me, eh?” He stood and pulled her to her feet. He reached a hand toward her face.

She flinched and ducked away.

His nostrils flared like a stallion scenting a mare. “Skittish, huh? Well, I can understand that, after living with my brother for so long. I never was one to hit a woman. Not that I have anything against the practice. It just wasn’t my thing.” His gaze raked down her body. “As for the rest, well, like I said, if I only had the time.” He clucked his tongue again and shook his head. “What a waste.”

He stepped back and motioned with the gun toward the door. “Come along, Caroline. The only way I’m coming out of this without going to prison now is to make sure no one can connect me to anything. That’s why I had Grant kill Leslie and abduct you. I needed him to leave evidence that showed he was a psychopath and a murderer. When you both disappear, the police will assume he killed you and ran off. And I can go back to my life as if nothing ever happened.” He waved the gun again. “Let’s go. The plant opens in a few hours. I have to get rid of both of your bodies and hose the place down before anyone sees me. Time to disappear.”

Carol lunged past him and ran out the door into the hall.

The sound of laughter followed her mad dash through the plant. There weren’t that many lights on, only an occasional overhead round fluorescent light hanging from a pole that didn’t illuminate much of the area around it.

“I’ll just get rid of Grant first, okay, Caroline?” he called out. “Don’t worry, it won’t take long.”

A whimper bubbled up in Carol’s throat. Why wasn’t he worried she’d escape? She soon found the answer. When she reached the door she and Grant had come through earlier, it was bolted shut with a chain and a padlock across it. She shoved on the door anyway, rattling the chain and rocking the door against its frame.

Daniel’s laughter echoed through the room. “That’s the only door, sweetheart,” he yelled from somewhere in the darkness. “The only other way into the plant is through the cattle shoots. And they’re all closed up nice and tight for the night.”

Carol whirled around, her gaze sweeping back and forth across the low, rectangular building. The room was full of all kinds of equipment she didn’t recognize, scary-looking machines with sharp blades and what looked like giant nail guns hanging from pulleys on the ceiling with rubber hoses attached to them. She turned in a circle, but it looked as if Daniel was telling the truth. The only other doors were the massive overhead rolling kind, like garage doors, only they were closed and she didn’t have a clue how to open them.

The sound of footsteps against the concrete floor had her crouching down behind the nearest machine. Another sound followed in concert with the footsteps, a swishing sound, like fabric brushing against something. She leaned around the machine, peering across the dimly lit area where the sound was coming from.

Daniel passed beneath one of the lights, calmly walking through the warehouse, holding Grant’s hand, dragging his body behind him.

Carol clasped her hands over her mouth again, desperately trying not to wretch.

Laughter sounded from the other side of the room again. Daniel must have heard her, and he was enjoying her terror.

An image of Luke’s handsome, smiling face floated in Carol’s mind’s eye. If he were here, he’d protect her. He’d make everything safe for her. For a moment, she remained frozen wishing Luke could save her. But she thought about the pictures on the glass door in the room where she’d been held. Grant’s wife and daughter didn’t deserve to die any more than Carol did, assuming they were still alive. If she gave up now, she wasn’t just letting herself down. She was letting those innocents down, as well. She couldn’t cower and do nothing. She had to at least try to escape and get help for them.

She forced her shaking legs to carry her forward, into the dark, to try to find another way out or a weapon of some sort. She stumbled over a hose and fell against a smooth concrete wall in the middle of the room. She leaned over it, peering down into the darkness, following the wall as it snaked back and forth on itself through the room.

It was a cattle shoot, one of the serpentine enclosures the cows walked through from the stockyard to where they were slaughtered. She glanced at the heavy doors behind her. They didn’t sink into the floor. They rested flat against the concrete. But the cattle shoots were below floor level, like a subway. Maybe Daniel was wrong. Maybe there
was
another way out. Maybe there were side rooms off the shoot or a control panel that would raise the doors.

BOOK: The Bodyguard
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