Killer Bunny Hill

by Denise Robbins

  That’s when she almost tossed her cookies. Sam covered her mouth stifling any sound, and prevented the bile that sat in her throat from escaping. She shivered at the sight of the bruises and cuts that covered her father’s torso. This man, her father, her rock, had been tortured. She wanted to cry, to wail to the heavens, and ask them why, who. Samantha shook her head. She would find out.

  “Go,” he murmured.

  “Don’t talk, Dad. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of everything.” Then she would hunt down and kill the bastards that had tortured her father.

  “Go,” her father begged in a barely audible voice. “Too dangerous.”

  “You need a doctor, a hospital. Then you need a safe place, and I don’t think this is it.” Biting her lip, Sam scanned the room. Where the hell was Betty? Samantha wished she were here. She needed help to move her dad. Could she move him? Did she dare? To her mind, Sam didn’t have a choice. If someone deliberately blew up the restaurant, who was to say Betty’s house would not be next?

  “No. Danger.” He grasped her arm. Not the iron grip she knew him capable, but as strong a hold as he could muster, she imagined. Underneath the black and blue marks, Sam discerned the anguish on her father’s face.

  Sam heard the click of the front door knob, the door opened, and then closed.

  “Shh. Don’t move, Dad.” Hell, she didn’t think he could move.

  On silent feet, Sam tiptoed down the hall, weapon out and ready. Reaching the end of the hall, she peered around the corner. At the bottom of the stairs, she made out the silver-blond hair of Betty Jacks. Relieved, Sam blew out a sigh and met Betty at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Damn you, girl. That’s twice you scared the hell out of me.”

  It seemed Sam’s presence frightened Betty even more because all of the sudden Betty shoved the sack she held tight against her ample chest into Sam’s hands and took off in a dead run up the stairs. Her speed stunned Sam.

  “Is he okay?” Betty called over her shoulder.

  Compared to what? By the time Sam made it to the bedroom, paper sack in hand, Betty sat at her father’s side.

  “Oh, Sam, honey,” Betty soothed in her husky voice, stroking his hair.

  “Betty?” Samantha whispered.

  “I’m here, hun. I got the supplies,” Betty assured her father.

  Samantha checked the bag. Sure enough, it looked as if Jacks had cleared out the pharmacy. The sack contained an array of medical supplies ranging from gauze, tape, bandages, peroxide, alcohol, needles and silk thread, everything to outfit a small army for first aid.

  She laid a hand on Betty’s shoulder. “Jacks, he can’t stay here. He needs a doctor, a hospital.”

  Betty looked at her, eyes pooling with unshed tears.

  “They’ll find you both here. You had to have left a trail from the drug store with all of the supplies,” Samantha told her, indicating the sack. “They’ve already blown up your restaurant.”

  “What?” Betty asked in high-pitched disbelief. “How do you know? I thought it was an accident, a gas explosion.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think so. And if it was arson, they could very well do it again.”

  She could see Betty wanted to disagree, but then she asked, “What do we do? If you are right, we can’t go to the hospital either. And Sam, the stubborn fool that he is, won’t go, he refuses.”

  Samantha thought a moment, and then an idea came to her. “Casey has a vacation place in Portland. You’ll go there. I’ll give you the directions. Once you get there, call Casey, tell him what’s happened and that he needs to get you a physician to look after Dad.”

  Casey, her best friend and business partner, would take care of her father. Discreetly.

  “No,” her father responded with a quiet voice.

  “Shut up, Sam Spenser,” Betty ordered.

  Samantha almost smiled. Betty taking charge was a heck of a sight to see, especially when she commanded ex-police chief, Sam Spenser.

  “I’ll pack the car while you get Dad ready to travel.”

  SUV packed with the medical supplies Betty purchased, clothes, and food, Sam returned to the bedroom. Betty managed to get her father bundled in a parka, swathed in blankets, and sitting up. His head lulled to one side. Samantha couldn’t believe he had any strength left.

  She strode into the room. “Okay, let’s go. I wrote the directions and Casey’s contact information on a piece of paper. It’s in the ashtray. Once on the highway give him a call. He’ll take care of you from there.”

  Betty nodded, while Sam’s father gave no sign of hearing her.

  “You take that side, I’ll take this one, and on three we get Dad to his feet.”

  With her head and shoulder positioned in the crook of her father’s underarm, and Betty in the same position on the opposite side, they managed to lift Sam Spenser to his feet. With additional support of their arms clasped around his waist, they walked her father out of the bedroom.

  “Don’t worry, Dad, we’ve got you, and I’ll see to it your safe.”

  They made it down the stairs before her father spoke. “Di –m–n,” he mumbled.

  Samantha’s footsteps faltered and she jostled her father. Diamond? Did he say diamond? Without letting go of her father, she regained her footing. “Yes, Dad, what about diamonds?” Sam asked, excitement tingeing her voice.

  When they reached the car, and she and Betty had him buckled in, her father spoke again. “K—vn,” he slurred.

  Her heart almost stopped in her chest. “Kevin? Is that what you said?”

  She would have sworn he nodded, but she wasn’t certain. “Dad? What about Kevin? Is he alright? Where is he?”

  When he tried to answer, his words came out in babble. She hoped his abductors hadn’t beaten him into brain damage. Frightened, Sam pulled her father into a hug, closed her eyes, and prayed he would be all right. “I love you,” she whispered, emotion choking her up.

  When she would have stepped back, her father clutched her hands in his, held them to his chest, and struggled to open his eyes. He succeeded in getting the right one partially opened.

  “L—v—u,” he garbled. “K—v—n. Fw—en.”

  Sam hated to see her strong father struggle. “I know, Dad. Do you know where he is?”

  His head shook a faint movement. “N–n–o.”

  “We’ll find him.”

  His grip tightened. “No,” he forced out stronger than all the other words. “Da—ger.”

  “Si—th di—nz.”

  He inhaled, and when he winced, Sam wanted to kill the bastards that caused him pain. “Don’t talk, Dad. Save your strength.”

  “No twus, no fw—en.”

  When her father’s head dropped to his chest, Sam knew that was the last of him for a while. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear, then stepped back and shut the car door.

  “Go, Betty. Don’t stop until you get there and don’t call me unless something happens. Otherwise, I assume you made it and Casey is taking care of you.”

  Betty backed out of the garage, and Sam murmured to no one, “Be safe.”

  Then she took off. As she approached her childhood home, she expelled a sigh of relief. The house was pitch black.

  * * * *

  Max shoved the barrel of his Glock against the intruder’s temple. “If you want to live, don’t move, don’t even breathe. All you have to do is tell me what you did with Samantha and Kevin.”

  His captive swallowed audibly. Good, he thought. He hoped the idiot was scared.

  “Max,” she murmured, “it’s me.”

  Me?

  “Samantha,” she said, answering his unasked question. “Samantha.”

  Samantha. She was here. His heart skipped a beat as relief swamped him. Then he realized he was a hair’s breadth away from killing the woman he loved, the snow bunny he had fallen for the moment she landed on his doorstep. Here she was, on his doorstep, again. Only this time he was the one who almost shot
her. Almost. With caution, he moved his finger from the trigger, and set the weapon on the granite counter. Then he touched her.

  She was alive. She was here. For a moment, Max could not breathe, but then he felt Sam shiver in response to the light caress at the nape of her neck.

  He cupped her face in his hands. “Sam,” he whispered.

  She nodded. “Yes.”

  “You’re alive.” He hugged her to his chest. “I couldn’t bare it if I lost you. I should have known you would get away.”

  “Ma…”

  Max kissed her. He pushed her hat from her head, and raked his fingers through the cinnamon tangles of her hair. His hands skimmed her shoulders, trailed down her arms. “Mine,” he murmured, unzipping her jacket with hurried fingers, and let it fall to the floor along with the hat.

  He reassured himself of Sam’s health. He ran his hands over her hips, down her jean-clad legs, feeling for bullet holes or blood. Then he made his way back up her body. Reaching her waist, Max tugged the shirt out of her pants, slid his hands underneath. When his palm touched the warm flesh of her stomach, he heard her sharp intake of breath. Need ripped through him, hot and electric.

  He was instantly rock hard. Frantic with the need to touch her, kiss her, every inch of her, Max discarded his pants then hers, taking her panties with them, and the shoes that got in his way. He jerked the shirt over Sam’s head, leaving her arms tucked in the sleeves, and clasped one hand over both of her wrists lifted above her head, and pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the wall.

  Sam’s breathing quickened. With his free hand, he touched her breast, squeezed and kneaded it until the nipple pebbled and her hips wriggled. Max kissed her, his tongue delving into the sweetness of her mouth, and she responded, kissing him back, her tongue tangling with his. Her hips moved against his, and the heat between her legs urged him to an even harder madness.

  Max slid his hand down her stomach, slowly, caressed her navel, teasing her. His hand continued down between her legs, circled the swollen lips. With two fingers, he opened her, exposed her, and slipped a finger into her, into her wet depths. When her hips writhed against him, he couldn’t hold back.

  As Sam exploded in his arms, he surged up, and plunged inside her, rode her and the wave of passion until she crested again, and crashed down at the same moment he released himself into her, and cried out her name.

  Spent, and breathing hard, their chests rising and falling rapidly, Max leaned his forehead against Sam’s. “I thought I’d lost you. I should have known you would get away.”

  “What?” She gasped in a breath. “What are you talking about?”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Huh? Still naked, Max pressed against her, Sam slid her arms down, took his face in her hands, and kissed him. “Did you have a bad dream?”

  Max’s eyebrows drew together, and she felt the muscles in his jaw tighten.

  “No.”

  “Then what? What’re you talking about?”

  He moved away from her, and she ached from the loss of his body heat.

  “Where were you? Do you have the diamonds?”

  “They’re in the pocket of the jacket you practically ripped off me.”

  While Max stepped further away, pulled on his pants, and snatched up her jacket, Samantha managed to hold onto her temper and get dressed. She knew she had risked the trust they had built between them when she left to find her father. But to go from hot and heavy to pissed off and distant made that gnawing sensation of guilt ache again. She clutched at her stomach.

  Clothes back where they belonged, Sam prepared to take whatever Max dished out when he turned to her, a look of hurt on his face.

  “I’m not mad. Just tell me you’re okay, and that you were cautious.”

  No third degree? She had been ready for the verbal bout. She hadn’t prepared for Max’s quiet acceptance of her disappearance. Instead, the punch of shame hit her straight in the heart.

  “I’m fine. Yes, I was careful.”

  Max eyed her for a moment, and then nodded.

  “I’m going to shower and get some rest. I’ve had enough excitement for one evening.” He started by her then twisted back. “We’ll have to find a new hiding place for these.” He indicated the diamonds and USB drive he carried in the envelope. “I’m pretty sure whoever broke in here saw the open safe box. Not to mention the floor is all shot up. Watch your step when you come up, but take your time.”

  Max was up the stairs and in the hallway before his words sank in. Someone broke into the house? Someone shot at the stairs? Did they hurt Max?

  She hurried to catch up with him. Taking the stairs two at a time, she reached him just as Max shut the bathroom door in her face. She stared at the closed door, contemplated not following him. “Screw it,” she muttered, and shoved open the door.

  “Who was here? Were you shot? Are you okay?”

  Sam didn’t need Max to answer the last of her questions. She saw for herself that he was perfectly fine. Perfect, she gulped. Every inch of him.

  Max turned on the water, and ignoring her, climbed into the shower, slid the curtain across, and shut her out.

  “Max,” she demanded fisted hands on hips.

  Not mad my ass. Fine, she got the point, but she refused to let the conversation drop. Tired and scared, she knew she screwed up, but the silent treatment only prevented them from getting any answers. Sam stripped, yanked the shower curtain back, and stepped into the shower with Max. Whether he wanted her there or not, he was going to listen and talk.

  “Shit,” she cursed, and scooted away from the spray. The water just like Max chilled her.

  When she reached for the knob to turn up the heat, he tugged her back. “Don’t,” he snapped.

  Ookaay. She could deal with it if he could, even if it did cause her teeth to chatter. Straightening her spine, she squirted soap, and started to suds up. Then she reached out and used the soap on Max. When he didn’t pull away or object, Sam stepped closer.

  “I’m sorry. I should not have left without telling you. I didn’t mean for you to worry.”

  “It’s fine.”

  His gruff response told her it was anything but fine. She ran her soapy hands across his hard chest. “I went to see my father.” The muscles under her hands bunched and tightened. “I figured out where he called from and I had to see that he was safe. Can you understand that?”

  Max nodded and she felt the muscles relax.

  “Dad was at Betty’s.” Fighting back tears, she took a deep breath before continuing. “Oh, Max, it was awful. He was beaten and bruised, and could barely speak. He refused to go to the hospital because of the danger.”

  Sam pressed her forehead to his chest. “Whoever did that to him will pay,” she vowed.

  Max’s arms wound around her waist, and he stroked her back, offering her the comfort she needed. “We’ll get the bastard.”

  The flat firmness of his tone told Samantha he meant it. She looked up, gazed into his eyes, and in them saw steely determination, and love. Despite his anger, Max still loved her. Before she could speak, Sam had to swallow the knot of emotion that choked her.

  “Betty and I practically carried Dad to the car. How he even made it to her place is beyond me. I sent them to someplace safe.” Max’s fingers tightened on her hips then loosened. “My dad’s not the bad guy. He tried to help your brother. He needs medical attention, and this way there will be two less people to worry about while we find your brother’s kidnappers and the person who beat my father within an inch of his life. Dad even mentioned Kevin’s name. Well, more like slurred it, but I understood. I think he wanted me to know Kevin was alive.”

  Max held her tighter in his arms. “I’m glad you’re here. When I went downstairs and found a masked and armed intruder instead of you I thought…”

  His word halted, and Sam looked up, saw him squeeze his eyes shut and swallow.

  “I thought they’d taken you again. I was afraid that if I couldn’t f
ind my brother, I would never find you.”

  She reached up and touched his cheek. “We’ll find Kevin.” As she said his name, Sam thought of her father’s words. Kevin…friend. No trust friend. Sixth diamonds. Sixth Element! The answer jolted her back to Max.

  “Sixth Element. I think my father tried to tell me it was Sixth Element. We were right.” She thumped his chest with a fist. “That ID we found was a lead.”

  Max picked her up, kissed her hard and swift. When he put her back on her feet, he grabbed her hand and tugged her behind him.

  “Let’s make a call.”

  * * * *

  The call to Ruby was a bust. She hadn’t answered the phone, which meant Ruby was probably in a place where she couldn’t take his call. He would just hope she got out soon enough to help them and in one piece.

  Disappointed, Max took Sam to bed. While she slept the sleep of the innocent, he hardly slept a wink. Instead, his mind churned, images of Kevin’s beaten face haunting him. Then pictures of Lucy, with her lithe athletic body dressed in bootie shorts and tank top, smiling at him across the wood beams of the small addition to the deck they built together flashed through his head followed by her lovely face gone white and blank in death. Now, he lay in bed beside Samantha, arms crossed behind his head, afraid to close his eyes.

  Staring at the ceiling, he could not get Sam’s conclusion out of his mind. If she was right, and he had no doubt she was, then someone who worked at Sixth Element was responsible for the explosion that destroyed Betty’s restaurant. And that being the case, it was plausible, more like probable that the same person or someone he reported to was behind the diamonds and the kidnapping of his brother, not to mention whatever had been done to Samantha’s father. He wished Sam had told him she found her father. Maybe he could have gotten more information out of him, a better lead.

  With a sigh of frustration, Max got out of bed, slid into a pair of jeans, and without a sound, walked downstairs. He needed caffeine. After making a pot of coffee, and pouring himself a cup, Max straddled a chair at the table and powered up the laptop. It was about time they looked into the charred ID Sam found and Sixth Element. The web search resulted in multiple websites to find the movie with the same name, a feng shue business, a music group under the name, and an online skate, snow, and surf shop. No diamond manufacturing company.