Harlequin Intrigue March 2021--Box Set 2 of 2

by Nichole Severn

  He drew a deep breath as she left the kitchen. There was no question that things were going to be awkward between them. Sharing space with so many things unresolved between them was going to create more than a little bit of tension.

  When it was time for him to leave for work, he was torn with the desire to get out on the streets and find Peter and remain here with her to make sure she stayed safe.

  “Make sure you only touch the trigger if you intend to shoot somebody,” he said as he took the safety of the gun off. “Where do you want to keep it?”

  “How about on the coffee table. I plan on spending most of the day in the living room.”

  He placed the gun on the coffee table. “You know how to use the television. Help yourself to anything you want to eat, and I’ll bring home dinner for us from the café.”

  “I would be glad to cook something for us,” she offered.

  “I’d rather just bring something home. Is there anything in particular you’d like?” As silly as it sounded, he didn’t want her to cook dinner for them. It felt too intimate...too much like they were a cozy couple.

  “Anything is fine. Just surprise me.” She walked with him to the front door. He started to go out the door, but she stopped him by placing her hand on his arm. “Hunter, stay safe today.”

  “Always,” he replied with a reassuring smile. “If you get scared or something doesn’t seem right, call me. One of the other deputies or I will come running.”

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine,” she replied.

  He wanted to touch her. He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her tight. He needed to run a finger down the side of her soft cheek or touch a strand of her silky hair. He didn’t do any of those things.

  “Lock the door behind me, and I’ll see you later today.” He practically ran out of the house with the need to escape her. It was crazy, but he’d rather face down a psycho killer than face his emotions where Colette was concerned.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The minute Hunter left, he seemed to take all the oxygen, all the life out of the air with him. She locked the front door and then went into the living room and sat on the edge of the sofa.

  She stared at the gun on the coffee table. Could she shoot to kill her ex-husband, the father of her child? As she thought of all the times he’d beaten her, of the intense mental and physical pain he’d put her through, the answer was easy. Yes, she could definitely shoot to kill him.

  More important than the crimes Peter had already perpetrated against her were the crimes she feared he would perpetrate against their daughter. For that alone Colette could kill him.

  If Peter really had left town, then a new nearly insurmountable issue would arise. How could she continue to stay here if he knew where she was? Even if Hunter forgave her and professed his love for her, how could she stay if Peter got away?

  She turned on the television in an attempt to escape her depressing thoughts. Hopefully, in the next couple of days, she would know whether Peter was truly gone from the area. Then she would have to make a decision about what to do next.

  She had told Hunter she’d slept well, but that wasn’t exactly the truth. She’d had trouble getting comfortable. Her ribs hurt and the bruise on her chin throbbed with pain, keeping her awake off and on throughout the night. And if the physical pain hadn’t been enough, she’d been unable to turn off her thoughts.

  She found a channel with a game show on. She kept the volume fairly low so she could hear any other noises throughout the house. Zeus jumped up on the sofa next to her and curled up at her side.

  She stroked his soft fur and tried to keep her mind empty, but it was impossible. She’d dreamed of living here with Hunter and Zeus and Melinda. She’d dreamed of them all being a happy family.

  She definitely owed her daughter a big apology for not believing her about her father speaking to her at night. Who could have guessed it was true, that Peter had installed all the equipment in the café attic?

  Shoving away these thoughts, she tried to focus on the game show. At noon she let Zeus out of the back door and then opened the refrigerator to find something for lunch.

  She’d hoped to hear from Hunter by now and learn that Peter had been found and arrested, but apparently there was nothing new to report. She found a can of tuna in the pantry and made herself a sandwich with chips for lunch.

  When she was finished eating, she walked to the front windows and peered outside. She knew from talking with Hunter that most of his neighbors worked and weren’t home during the days.

  She saw nothing amiss in the area. As she stood there, a patrol car slowly drove by and then disappeared down the street. With a sigh she turned away and walked to the back door to let Zeus back inside.

  The dog danced in, followed by a man she’d seen often in the café. “Hank, what are you doing here? What do you want?” Why would Hank Bridges be here? Why had he just come through Hunter’s back door?

  “Hello, Colette.”

  The familiar voice shot disbelief through her. She stared at him. Her brain froze. No wonder they hadn’t been able to find him. He looked nothing like the photo she’d given to them. He was the new man in town...he’d walked the sidewalks free and easy, he’d eaten several times in the café with Sheila Turrel. Peter!

  She stumbled backward from the door. The sight of him here and now shot sheer terror through her.

  The gun. She had to get to the gun. She turned to run, but he caught her leg and she fell to the floor. She rolled over on her back and kicked at him. Zeus barked as if to protest what was going on.

  He backed up a bit from her and laughed. “Ah, Colette, I’ve so looked forward to this reunion.”

  “Go away, Peter,” she said breathlessly. “Just leave me alone.”

  He laughed again, the sound shooting arctic chills up her spine. “Now you know that isn’t going to happen. You have to pay for leaving me, for taking my daughter away from me.”

  “You don’t care about Melinda. You never loved her or me.”

  “Love has nothing to do with this. You belonged to me.” He leaned over her and grinned.

  She had to get to the gun. She’d been stupid to open the door without the weapon in her hand. She needed to get up. She kicked at him again, needing to gain some distance to get to her feet and run for the gun.

  He kicked her, connecting with the rib he’d broken. Pain screamed through her, blurring her vision as she lost her breath.

  Before she could fully recover, he grabbed her by her hair and yanked her up to her feet. She screamed but knew there was nobody who would hear her. She was vaguely aware of Zeus running from the room.

  “You want that gun?” he whispered in her ear. His grip on her hair tightened. “You want to get that gun and shoot me?” He punched her in her side. Once again pain ripped through her, weakening her knees. “That wouldn’t be nice, Colette.”

  His hot, stale breath made her want to throw up. “If anyone is going to shoot somebody, it’s going to be me shooting you. But that would be too easy.”

  He pulled out a syringe. New horror swept through her. She fought to get away, but he stabbed the needle into her arm.

  She flailed her arms and kicked at him, desperate to get free. He laughed at her efforts, his laughter sounding like the devil’s happiness.

  Within minutes her arms began to feel too heavy to fight and her legs could barely hold her up. What had he given to her? Oh God, what had been in the syringe?

  Her eyelids grew heavy. He loosened his grip on her hair, and she nearly fell against him. Help, her mind screamed. He laughed as he picked her up in his arms.

  He’d won. That was the last thought that drifted through her mind before she knew no more.

  * * *

  HER HEAD POUNDED. Her mouth was dry. Colette came to in confusion. She opened her eyes and frowned. She was in a
kitchen she’d never seen before. The floor was an old, faded linoleum, and an old table stood in front of a window with a cracked pane of glass. The air held an unpleasant odor.

  Where was she? She tried to raise a hand to her head and realized she was tied to the chair. That’s when everything crashed back into her head. Peter...who didn’t look like Peter...the stab of the needle in her arm... Oh God, she was in trouble. Peter was actually Hank Bridges, and nobody knew that.

  As if to punctuate that thought, Peter walked into the kitchen. He grabbed a chair, flipped it around backward and sat directly in front of her. “Hello, Colette.”

  It was so disconcerting to hear the familiar voice coming out of the unfamiliar face. But the eyes were the same, dark blue eyes that burned with evil intent.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me how happy you are to see me again?”

  She kept her mouth shut. She had no desire to engage with him in any way. If he was waiting for her to beg and plead for her life, it wasn’t going to happen.

  How long had she been unconscious? Did Hunter know yet that she was missing from the house? Were they all out looking for her now?

  They’d never find her. They could look everywhere, but they’d never suspect she was here. They were all looking for Peter, not this new, improved version of her ex-husband.

  She wanted to weep with defeat, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing her tears. He’d always gotten off on seeing her cry.

  “Gee, I guess you aren’t talking to me. Maybe I can make you scream.” He started to stand up from the chair.

  “Of course you can make me scream. You’ve got me tied to a chair and helpless. Congratulations, big man. You’re a real hero.”

  The slap snapped her head to the side. She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out. “Show me some respect. I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to get you here,” he said. “I’ve spent hundreds of thousands of dollars to make this happen.”

  “Why, Peter? After all this time, why come after me at all?” she asked. Her hands were tied behind her back, and she twisted and turned them in an effort to gain some give in the rope.

  “You belong to me. Don’t you remember that was our song? We danced to it at our wedding.”

  “We divorced,” she replied. “And I never belonged to you. I belong to myself.”

  She hadn’t intended to talk to him, but she now realized she needed to keep him talking. She needed time, time for somebody to find her. She desperately hoped somebody—anybody—would find her.

  “A piece of paper doesn’t change the fact that you belong to me,” he said.

  She sighed in frustration. “Why did you marry me in the first place?” she asked.

  “I married you because I wanted you. I knew after our first date that you were the woman I wanted to bear my children, the woman I wanted to spend my life with. Why did you marry me?” He looked at her in amusement.

  “I fell in love with you, Peter. I thought you were a good man, a gentle man who would take care of me and any children we had. But you became a cruel and abusive man.” She stiffened, waiting for another blow from him.

  “That’s because you failed to live up to my expectations of you as a wife.” His eyes were dark and flat, like the eyes of a serpent. “You had to be taught, Colette. It wasn’t my fault that you were a slow learner. I hope our daughter doesn’t need to be taught.”

  She wanted to tear his eyes out, stab him in his sick, black heart. As she thought of Melinda in his care, she wanted to scream at the injustice of evil winning. Peter would steal all the sweetness, all the happiness out of Melinda.

  Colette would gladly spend a thousand years in hell to save Melinda from him. But the devil was already working with Peter. “Please just let me go, Peter. I’ll make sure you get plenty of visitation with Melinda.”

  “Why should I settle for visitation when I can have her full-time?”

  “Please, Peter. If you ever loved me, then just let me go.” She had thought she wasn’t going to beg, but she was now begging for her life...for Melinda’s life. “I won’t tell anyone what you look like or that you’re living as Hank Bridges. Your identity is safe with me.”

  His eyes burned into hers. “You were my everything, Colette. I needed you as much as I needed air to breathe.”

  “You tried to kill me,” she replied half hysterically. She continued to work at loosening the rope holding her hands, but so far she’d had no success. Her fingers were numb, but her wrists felt raw and painful. “Peter, you stabbed me in my stomach. You almost killed me.”

  “I’ll admit my need to discipline you got a little out of hand, but that didn’t give you the right to leave me. You were mine, and you’ll be mine until you die.”

  He stood abruptly and shoved the chair he’d been sitting in aside. “The only way I’ll truly be free of you is for you to be gone...dead. That’s the price you pay for leaving me, Colette.”

  He stalked over to the nearby door and yanked it open. Immediately a noxious smell wafted in the air. Squeals and grunts could be heard.

  Peter turned to look at her. “Hear that? Those are my pets. Did you know that sixteen pigs can completely eat a human being in eight minutes? There are twenty-five starving pigs in my pen. I tested the information with Ted, who got me access to the café attic.” She stared at him in horror.

  “It actually took seven and a half minutes for Ted to get crunched up and swallowed. Then this morning they got fed again. Poor old Sheila was another loose end that needed to be taken care of. I figure by late this evening the pigs will be hungry again.” He grinned at her. “Of course I’ll feed my pets...I’m going to feed them you.”

  As he turned and left the kitchen, she worked desperately on trying to free her hands. She was horrified not only by what he’d already done but also what he planned to do to her.

  * * *

  THEY HAD SCOURED the town for Peter Waverly and nobody professed to have seen him. “How can one man stay so far under the radar?” Hunter asked Nick when they were both in the office for a few minutes.

  “You got me.” Nick shook his head. “We checked the motel and the few places in town that are rented out. We’ve asked people if they’ve noticed anyone in or around their barns and outbuildings, and we’ve come up empty-handed. We’re going to start checking on some of the abandoned buildings in the area, but if you want my opinion, I think he’s probably left town.”

  “That’s the last thing Ains...Colette wanted.” Hunter frowned.

  “This all must have been a shock to you. How are you doing with it all?” Nick asked.

  Hunter drew in a deep breath. “To be honest, I don’t know how I’m doing with it all. Right now I want to stay focused on minimizing any danger toward her.”

  “And after that?” Nick asked.

  “After that I don’t know,” Hunter replied honestly. “I kind of feel the same way I did when I realized all the lies Emily had told me.”

  “But there’s a difference. Emily lied to deceive you so she could continue her affair. Colette lied to save her and her daughter’s lives.”

  Nick’s words haunted Hunter during the rest of the morning as he worked street patrol. Yes, there was a difference. He tried to put himself in Colette’s position. What lengths would he go to in order to protect Danny if the little boy had lived?

  He would have lied, stolen and done whatever necessary to save his son from danger. Why would he hold it against Colette for doing the same thing?

  It was just after noon when his phone rang and he saw George’s caller ID. Why on earth would George be calling him right now?

  “Hey, George, what’s going on?”

  “Hunter, I got something to tell you...something really, really important.”

  “What’s that?” Hunter asked. George had spoken superfast, and Hunter wondered if perhaps G
eorge was off his meds again. He didn’t sound drunk—rather he sounded amped up.

  “I thought today was your day off and I spent most of the morning thinning out some plants and I repotted some because I thought you might like them.” The words spewed out of George so fast Hunter could barely digest them. The man was obviously agitated about something.

  “So, I took them down to your house and was just about to knock on the door when I heard two people talking inside and then I heard the side gate in your backyard open. I...I peeked around the corner of the house and saw him—he was...he was carrying Ainsley over his shoulder.”

  A sick burst of adrenaline shot through Hunter. “Who was it, George? Who was carrying her outside?” he asked urgently.

  “I can’t remember. I know him from somewhere...but right now I can’t remember from where. Dammit, I knew she was in trouble and I hid behind the bushes like a damned coward. I’m sorry, Hunter. I’m so sorry. You needed me to save her and I...I failed you.” He began to weep.

  “George, where are you now?” Hunter asked as he turned his car around to head for home.

  “I’m at your house on the front porch.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Hunter hung up and raced for home. How in the hell had a man they were all looking for managed to get to Colette? How had this happened? Oh God, where had Peter taken her?

  As he drove, he called Nick to let him know what had happened, and the lawman agreed to meet Hunter at his house. Hunter stepped on the gas, his heart thundering so hard he could hear the frantic beats in his head. Dammit, he’d thought she’d be safe in his house. He shouldn’t have worked today no matter how much he was needed to do patrol. He should have stayed with her, kept her near to him.

  The good news was there was an eyewitness to the kidnapping. The bad news was the witness could be off his medications and might never be able to identify whom he had seen.