“What in the world?” My words were a whisper in the chaos.
Grant pointed to me. “See, I told you Lucy is alive. She’s fine.”
I held up my palms. “Gigi, put the needle down. You’re safe.”
Her brows dipped and her voice came out raspy. “How do I know you’re you?”
“Look at me, sweetie,” I said, peeling the fingers off my arm. I twisted until the guard gasped in pain.
I stepped closer. “Of course, I’m me. Who else would want the job? Now, I know you’re probably scared and don’t know what’s going on, but I need you to remove the needle from Grant’s neck. You love him. You don’t want to hurt him.”
“I don’t love him. I don’t even know him. He tried to kiss me,” she said. Her familiar green eyes turned wild. Fine tremors shook her body. Her knees started to collapse and somehow she managed to stay on her feet.
Grant’s gaze turned wounded.
I needed her unarmed and off her feet, before she did any damage to herself or Grant. “Trust me. You don’t want to hurt him, and I don’t want you to hurt him. So, let him go, and let me visit with you. You’ve been sleeping for a long time, and I’ve missed you, Gigi.”
I approached her slowly and tossed my purse on the end of the bed before climbing up onto the mattress with her. I eased the needle out of her hand and threw it across the room, embedding the syringe into the wall.
Grant turned in her hold. His shoulders deflated. Pain simmered in his eyes.
“Let me talk to her and explain.” I said as Gigi collapsed in my arms to sit on the bed. Obviously, the adrenaline to protect herself was starting to wane.
His jaw ticked, but he nodded. “Everyone out. There’s nothing to see here.”
The doctor didn’t leave. “I need to check her vitals.”
“In a minute, Doc. You can see she’s scared.”
The doc hesitated and then nodded before quietly walking out of the room.
With a backward glance filled with longing and dread at Gigi, Grant followed the doctor out of the room.
“Oh, Lucy,” Gigi said and threw her arms around me tight. “What is going on? Why am I in the hospital?”
I hugged her back before leaning out of her hold. “What exactly do you remember?”
“Mom and Dad died, and we had their funeral.”
“That’s right we did. Then what do you remember after that?”
“Nothing.”
My mouth dropped open, and my hand flew to cover it. “You don’t remember college? You don’t remember marrying Grant? You don’t remember me saving you?”
Her brows knit together as despair clouded her eyes. “I don’t remember any of those things.”
Seven years’ worth of memories were gone. Seven entire years, some that were the happiest times in her life.
“Gigi, sweetie. You were abducted by a serial killer. I saved you, and you fell into a coma.”
She rapidly shook her head. “You’re joking, right? You, who’s scared of spiders and frogs, rescued me from a serial killer?”
I grabbed the purse I’d tossed on the foot of the bed, opened it, and retrieved my wallet. I showed her the only picture I had inside. A wedding picture of her and Grant, with me standing alongside them in an awful bridesmaid gown. “No joke. You know I wouldn’t put that dress on for anyone but you.” Maroon wasn’t my color. “You’re married to Grant, and he loves you to the moon and back.”
Gigi drew her legs in front of her, and hugged them. “I don’t remember. Oh God, Lucy, what’s going to happen to me?”
I tossed my wallet behind me. “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen.” I rested my palm on her knee. “We’re going to get the doctor to check you out, so don’t hurt her. And then I’m going to reintroduce you to Grant. Don’t hurt him either. We like Grant. Then we’ll take this nice and slow. I’m sure you’ll get your memories back. It’s just going to take some time.”
I spent the next three hours with my sister while tests were run. I gave her the abbreviated version of the last seven years. Not a single syringe was used to protect herself, including the one she’d snagged from the metal tray and hidden beneath her pillow. I smiled, knowing a part of her was still in there.
I’d tried to cancel on Sloan, but Gigi wouldn’t let me. She scoffingly gestured at the hospital room, with the machinery that had kept her alive for so long now silenced. She promised that Grant could sit with her for one night. She argued that maybe time with him might spark memories. I wasn’t sure anything but time or another trauma would help us there.
Chapter 4
Two military-fatigue-wearing men stood at the front of the hotel meeting room. With their sharp hard gazes and bulging muscles, they looked like strippers ready to perform on stage. All they needed was to ditch their shirts and let me rub baby oil all down their chests. Yum.
The third man looked like he’d been dragged off the golf course. His beer gut hung over his plaid golf shorts. The Oxford pullover shirt had a ketchup stain near the collar. His hands were loosely bound in front of him with a rope. A black rag was tied around his head and used as a gag.
Sloan stood next to them. “Our training game this year is just like playing capture the flag.” Sloan gestured to the bound man. “In our case, the flag is Mr. Sizemore. He’s been kidnapped and is being held for ransom.”
I’d expected more of a challenge. “Give me your gun, Sloan. I’ll shoot the kidnappers, and then we can all go to the bar.”
Sloan lifted a brow, and the kidnappers turned their gaze on Sloan.
“Everyone, meet Lucy Bray. This is her first time playing our survival games. Lucy, we don’t shoot anyone in these games.”
“Okay, how do we do it? Knife? Fistfight? What’s allowed?”
Sloan’s lips quivered into a smile. “The only weapons allowed are your brain and your wits. You must out-think these captors, out-smart them, and save Mr. Sizemore. The mastermind who was in on the kidnapping will be at our benefit tonight. He has four keys in his pocket. One per team. Figure out who he is by asking the right questions, and he’ll give you a room key. Not even pickpocketing is required.”
No picking pockets? Where was the fun in this if we weren’t stretching our criminal muscles? “That’s it? Find the guy, collect the key, and save the hostage?” I asked.
“That’s it,” Sloan said.
I fired off a text to Sloan. Start icing the champagne in your suite, Boss Man, and get ready to break the law. This won’t take long.
He glanced down at his phone when it vibrated on the table in front of him. A slow grin tugged up the corners of his mouth.
One of the kidnappers shoved the hostage forward and lowered his gag. “Help, I’ve been kidnapped. Please save me.”
That man wouldn’t win an Oscar or Emmy for his acting.
An hour later, after two phone calls to Grant and one to my favorite hacker, I was ready to party. Sam, the resident IT guy, had already hacked the hotel security feed. He’d be my eyes and ears when I was ready to save the innocent.
Sloan never said I had to do it alone. I grinned at the thought as I mingled with the partygoers all by myself in my low-cut dress with a slit so high it rivaled the Empire State Building.
Everyone in attendance were employees, clientele, or hotel staff. I scanned the room for the ones that had been in our meeting. Two of the guys stood across the room, exchanging notes and watching others in the room. Two more chatted it up with women from the party.
And then there was me. I had a different objective. I was going to draw a straight line to my prey and bypass the mastermind. I spotted my target across the room. A smile slid onto my face. He’d been talking to a group of waiters and caterers. Yet now he was standing alone in the corner, continuously glancing at his watch. I set my empty champagne flute on a waiter’s tray as he passed and grabbed another one.
Smiling as I approached, I glanced in Sloan’s direction, where he was watching, unmoving. He lifted a brow
, and his lip twisted at the corner into a smile only seconds before it disappeared.
The energy in the room was a typical mixture of alcohol-induced haze and people enjoying themselves. Everyone but my target. He was watching the events around him, authoritative and unassuming, standing in the shadows. Even if I hadn’t tapped into his energy, I knew what role he played just by the hotel emblem on his jacket.
He didn’t look like he belonged with this crowd. Just like me.
I stumbled into him and spilled the champagne down the front of his suit jacket.
“Oh my! I’m so sorry,” I cooed, grabbing a napkin from a nearby table. I started to dab his chest and farther down his pants near his crotch.
He caught me around the wrist. “It’s fine, miss…” His face turned red, and he took the napkin from me just as I slipped the master key to the rooms out of his pocket. He really should have been paying attention to my other hand.
“I’m so sorry. I really should be more careful,” I said, folding my arms beneath my boobs to lift them provocatively.
“It’s my fault,” he said, unable to look away from the swells of my breasts while blotting the part of his suit that didn’t even get wet.
“If you’ll send your dry-cleaning bill to Mr. Sloan, I’ll make sure it gets paid.”
“There’s no need to involve Mr. Sloan. He owns the hotel and already pays for our uniforms to be dry-cleaned,” he said before visibly swallowing hard.
I fanned myself. “I think I’ve had enough to drink tonight, although I sure did want to win Mr. Sloan’s game. All of his employees think I’m an airhead.”
The man licked his lips. “I’m sure that’s not the case.”
“I’ve never been able to beat them at this game. I have to find the right room, and I never get it right.” I wetted my lips and batted my eyes, using every sexual cue I could muster.
He leaned in to whisper in my ear. “He’s currently in room 602, but they’re about to move him. You should check on the fifth floor.” The man winked.
“You’d let me cheat?” I gasped and blew him a kiss.
“I’m in room 301 if you care to celebrate winning when you’re done.”
A smile split my lips, and I stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I’ll do just that.”
Smart moving the hostage around. Stupid to tell the manager of their plans. Keeping secrets gets harder when more people know.
I winked and walked away, glancing down at the master key in my hand. Regardless of what room, I’d have access.
Sloan had one arm crossed over his chest, his elbow resting on it. He rubbed at his chin as I passed. “Lucy…”
“You never specified I couldn’t interrogate,” I said and kept walking. I stopped in the lobby to use one of their phones and dialed Sam’s number. Sloan never said I couldn’t use reinforcements, either. He really should put those specific rules in his game. I was doing him a favor by showing him where he’d gone wrong.
My favorite IT guy, Sam, answered on the first ring. “You’re right. They’re tapped into the security feeds. They can keep the guy on the move, so none of the guys find them.”
“Perfect.” I smiled. “Take the entire building offline and in ten minutes set off the smoke detector.”
“Your wish is my command,” Sam teased as I glanced over my shoulder to find a group of Sloan’s guys standing at the elevator, which looked to be stopping on every floor on its way down.
I bypassed them and took the stairs. Five floors later, I was cursing myself for taking the long way. I’d reached the fifth floor and slipped into the hallway in time to spot a door slowly click closed, as if the occupants had been monitoring the halls.
The fire alarm blared, and all of the rooms opened except a few, including the one I was watching. Men and women filed out, some half-dressed, others with their clothes askew. Several were employees who had disappeared during Sloan’s party, and one escorted two women out of his room.
I scrutinized each group as they reached the stairwell, but hadn’t located the hostage in any group. I didn’t see the kidnappers either.
“Looks like we’re doing this the hard way,” I muttered to myself as I began a methodical search of the rooms where the doors hadn’t opened. I didn’t bother with the ones where people had come out.
I got to the door that had slid closed when I stepped out of the stairwell and stuck my key into the slot. Easing the door open, I peeked inside. The bed was made, yet there was a suitcase nearby and what looked to be rope with blood stains sitting on the bed, just like the kind they’d used on the kidnap victim.
I stepped farther inside, quietly closing the door behind me. I turned the corner into the room to find a young teenager with a backpack slung over her shoulders, standing at the desk rummaging through the drawers.
She met my stare and pulled out a knife and held it up to me. “Who are you?”
“Me?” I asked. “Who the hell are you? Don’t you know the fire alarm is going off? Shouldn’t you run along and find your mommy?”
The lock made a clicking sound behind us. Someone was coming in. I grabbed the teenager’s hand and pulled her into the closet. If Sloan’s kidnappers spotted her, they might call off the game.
And no way was I letting that happen. Not with champagne and Sloan as my reward.
I had just stealthily shut the closet door when something lifeless and fleshy fell from the shelf.
The teen opened her mouth to scream, and, heartbeat pounding in my chest, I slapped my hand over her mouth.
Something cold plopped on my arm. A dead woman was crammed on the shelf like an extra blanket. Her chilled arm hung over the edge.
Under my hand, I felt the girl’s chin trembling, and as quietly as I could, I wrapped my arms around her, spinning her to face the door. I held on, patting her back, hoping to keep her silent.
Through the door’s slats, we watched as a man stepped into the room. Even more importantly the killer’s rage clogged the air in the room. Breath dammed up in my throat, the sour taste reminded me of potato salad left in the sun too long.
I didn't recognize him, but I knew one thing for certain; If he found us, we were both as good as dead.
His designer suit and perfectly styled hair didn’t distract from his twisted expressions or emotions.
Tears streamed down the teen’s face as she cowered in on herself. I held my finger to my lips, giving her the universal sign to be quiet before I released her mouth.
I carefully and quietly stepped out of my shoes, holding one of the spiky heels in my palm and cursing the fact this game hadn’t required weapons.
I might not have had a weapon but the teen did. I dropped my shoe and peeled the teens fingers from the knife handle before she finally realized what I was doing.
The killer's gaze went to the opened desk drawers before he turned to the closet, just as his phone rang.
He stood still in the room, and I could only hear the one-sided conversation, even though it felt like his eyes were on me and he could hear the beating of my heart.
“I see.” His gaze narrowed on the closet. He tilted his head and took a step our direction
I swallowed hard and clutched my shoe tighter. If he opened the doors, it was going to be a fight to the death.
“I forgot about our meeting. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
He gave one last look at the closet and headed for the door. We waited a heartbeat before I eased the closet door open and peeked into the room.
Instead of going out the way we came, I ran to the adjoining door and opened it. The teen remained unmoving. Her face white as if drained of blood as tears streamed down her cheeks while staring up at the dead woman. Her hand trembled, as she grabbed the knife from me as if we’d find the same fate.
I didn’t have time to coddle her. I didn’t have time to figure it out.
“Come on,” I said. “We’re getting out of here.”
She resisted my tug. “Why would I go wi
th you?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I can keep you alive? Or did you want to stay here and wait for that guy to come back? Maybe he could make you dead like the other poor woman.” I tipped my head toward the closet shelf.
The girl bit her lip, as though weighing her options.
I was so done.
I didn’t have time for this.
I took her by the hand and dragged her to the adjoining door. Even if the man did come back, he would never know how we got out.
I was easing the door to the adjoining room shut when the hallway door in the killer’s room slammed against the wall. He turned the corner from the room’s little entryway.
Our eyes met for a mere instant before the freckled girl and I raced through the room next door and out into the hallway. We’d just made it to the stairwell when gunfire sounded behind us. The shot whizzed past my head and plowed into the wall, sending shards of concrete back our direction.
My heartbeat hammered in my chest as we flew down the stairs. Unsure if my feet ever touched the ground, I slammed out the exit door into the lobby.
Sloan was standing with his group of merry men, including the hostage and the kidnappers. Although now none of them were tied up.
I ran to Sloan, only stopping long enough to grab the gun beneath his coat. I pointed it at the door, my fingers shaking.
“Lucy, what are you doing?”
The teen stood behind me, waving her knife in the air toward the door.
“We’re being chased by a killer.”
Sloan tried to grab the gun from my hands. “Is this another ploy?”
I batted his hands away, and I spotted the blood on my arm. Fuck me. I hoped like hell the bodily fluid was the victim’s and not the killer’s. Thanks to the unique testing done on me in the government program I was in, I could be inexorably linked to the owner of the blood. No way did I want to be tied to this killer. Not after seeing what he’d done to the woman in the closet. I gestured with my head toward the exit door and cocked the trigger. “He’s already killed one woman. And now, it looks like he wants us next.”
Hunting Justice (Fractured Minds Series Book 3) Page 2
