Extreme Measures

by Brenda Harlen

  "I'm not going to sign, Ian."

  "What?"

  Colin couldn't blame him for being shocked. He was a little stunned himself, but now that he'd spoken the words aloud, he felt infinitely better.

  "I'm sorry. I know you worked hard to put this deal together, but—"

  "You asked me to put this deal together," Ian reminded him. "You told me to contact the press, to announce your intention to sign."

  "I had my reasons for that," Colin said. "But this contract isn't going to happen?"

  "Why the hell not?"

  Colin only smiled, at last secure in the knowledge of what he wanted. And determined to get it.

  "Please, Colin. Tell me you're not throwing your future away over a woman."

  Colin shook his head, but his smile widened. "Not just a woman," he said. "Two very special women."

  "This is it," Duncan said, pulling into a mostly vacant parking lot behind what he'd called the "rink." Nikki glanced around at what was, in reality, a huge coliseum-style sports complex that seated upward of fifteen thousand hockey fans.

  "Nice," she said, eyeing the building.

  "You never been here before?" he asked.

  "I've never even been to Texas before," she admitted.

  "If I'd known that, I would have pointed out some of the sights along the way."

  She smiled as she followed him through the lobby. He reminded her so much of Colin when they'd first met. All cocky self-confidence and boyish charm.

  They walked up several flights of wide stairs and past a series of concession stands, finally arriving at a closed door.

  "This is Coach's office," he said, sliding a key into the lock.

  Nikki frowned. "Isn't he here?"

  "The meeting is down the hall," Duncan explained. "But I thought you'd be more comfortable waiting in here until he's done."

  "Okay."

  She didn't think anything was amiss until he closed the door behind them and locked it.

  Nikki's heart stopped for a beat, then began to pound slowly, laboriously, against her ribs. "What's going on, Duncan?"

  He turned. His mouth was no longer smiling, and his eyes were no longer warm. "We're going to wait here."

  "Why did you lock the door?"

  "Because this is a private party—by invitation only." Then he reached into the back of his pants and pulled out a gun. "This," he said, gesturing with the weapon, "is your personal invitation."

  Nikki was at a complete loss for what to say or do. The moment he pulled out that gun, her brain had simply frozen.

  Duncan gestured toward the chair behind the desk. "Sit."

  She sat.

  She tried to think of something to say, figure out some way to reason with him, but his waving of the gun made her nervous. Even if he didn't intend to shoot her, the gun could discharge accidentally, and a stray bullet could kill her as effectively as a well-aimed one.

  "Pick up the phone," Parnell said.

  Again she did as she was told.

  "Call him."

  "Who?"

  Duncan glared at her. "MacIver."

  She reached a trembling hand toward the receiver.

  "No." Duncan's hand came down on top of hers. "Use the speakerphone," he instructed, then grinned. "I want to hear the panic in his voice when he realizes you're with me."

  "What are you planning to do?"

  "We can discuss that later," he said dismissively. "After you've made the call."

  He pressed the button for the speakerphone, and the sound of a dial tone filled the air.

  "I only know his cell-phone number."

  "Then try that one first," he said, gesturing for her to do so.

  She dialed carefully, her finger shaking so badly she was afraid she'd misdial, and afraid of the wrath that might be directed toward her for such a mistake.

  Colin answered on the second ring.

  "Hello?"

  The relief of hearing his voice was almost overwhelming. Tears sprang to her eyes and she had to bite down on her lip to keep from sobbing.

  "Hello?" he said again, just a little impatiently.

  Duncan nudged her shoulder with the muzzle of the gun. "Talk," he muttered the order in her ear. "The idea is for him to know that you're here."

  Nikki swallowed the emotions that clogged her throat. "C-Colin, it's me."

  "Nicole." She could hear the pleasure in his voice. "I've been trying to get in touch with you. I—"

  "Colin, wait."

  He must have sensed the tension in her voice. "What's wrong? Is it Carly?"

  "No—"

  "Hey, Coach." Duncan interrupted, his tone filled with false cheerfulness.

  There was a brief second of tense silence. "What the hell's going on, Parnell?"

  "I'm just taking some time to get acquainted with your pretty ex-wife."

  "Where are you?"

  "We're at the arena, in your old office, in fact."

  "I'm on my way."

  Duncan grinned. "You have ten minutes. I'm not sure my finger will be able to hold steady on the trigger any longer than that."

  Ten minutes.

  Nikki closed her eyes, silently praying that Colin would make it on time. But even if he did, she didn't know what Duncan Parnell's next move would be. Would he kill her anyway? Did he plan to kill Colin?

  Her eyes flew open as he nudged her chair aside and began rummaging through the desk drawers. Although his attention seemed focused on his search, the gun remained pointed in her general direction.

  "Aha," he said at last, and held up a roll of duct tape.

  Nikki wasn't as thrilled with his find, especially when he began wrapping the tape around her ankles.

  "Is that really necessary?" she asked.

  "I can't take any chances that you'll try to get away," he said, wrapping the tape so tightly it dug into her flesh. "Put your hands on the arms of the chair."

  She considered refusing. Meek submission wasn't in her nature, but she thought of her daughter waiting for her in Fairweather, and of Colin, and the sacrifices he'd already made for them. Accepting that the tape was a lot less lethal than the bullets in the gun, she did as he instructed.

  "It was you, wasn't it?" she asked.

  "What was me?"

  "You hired someone to kill Colin."

  "If you want something done right, you've got to do it yourself."

  She wasn't sure if his statement was supposed to be a confirmation or denial, but the grim purpose of his tone convinced Nikki that this man was her ex-husband's stalker. And she'd walked right into his trap.

  He'd introduced himself as one of Colin's players. She'd never even suspected that he could be the one who'd tried to kill Colin. But why would she? Colin had never told her the man's name, and she'd believed he was in jail.

  "Why are you doing this?" she finally ventured to ask.

  "Because my life is ruined," he told her, tearing the last piece of tape from the roll. "And it's all MacIver's fault."

  "Because he scratched you from the lineup?"

  "Right before the play-offs," he said, as if that explained everything. "Everyone knows that's the real reason we never made it to the Cup."

  "He must have had a reason." She was desperate to keep him talking, desperately praying for a solution out of this situation she'd somehow managed to get herself in.

  "Because he was jealous of my success."

  "Colin was a pretty good hockey player in his day," Nikki said.

  "Pretty good," Duncan scoffed. "After only my second year, the press were making comparisons to Gretzky."

  "What happened?"

  "Damn car accident. Buggered up my back pretty good. I lost five weeks in the middle of the season."

  "Must have been difficult to get back into the rhythm of things after so much time off," Nikki said sympathetically.

  "Maybe for someone else," he said. "Coach said I needed to take some time—get myself back together. Dammit, I was together. There was no one mo
re together than me."

  "Did you talk to him about this?"

  "Talk? Hell, I begged him to let me play." He shook his head. "He took away my shot at the Cup."

  "You're young," she appeased. "You'll have other years, other chances."

  "Maybe. Maybe not. My contract is up this year, and no one's expressed any interest in signing me. If he'd let me play, I would have shown them what I could do. This was my year, and he took that away from me."

  She was no longer convinced that talking was a good idea. The more Duncan ranted, the more agitated he became. But there was just one more question she needed to ask. "What does any of this have to do with me?"

  He shrugged philosophically. "Wrong place at the wrong time, sweetheart. I was waiting for MacIver and you showed up instead. And now I'm going to make him suffer, like he made me suffer."

  Colin was at the arena in seven minutes, somehow managing to dial Detective Brock while en route. He didn't bother to park his car but left it in front of the building, then took another minute and a half to race up the stairs toward the executive offices.

  He tried the knob, but it wouldn't turn. He banged his fist on the door. "Open up, Parnell."

  He heard a click as the bolt was released. Detective

  Brock's warning to wait for the police echoed dimly in the back of his mind.

  Parnell had Nikki inside—Colin wasn't waiting for anything.

  He pushed open the door and stepped into the room. And directly into the line of fire.

  Parnell glanced idly at the clock on the wall. "You made pretty good time. Coach. You must have been … motivated."

  Colin ignored the comment, his attention focused on Nikki. She'd been tied to his chair, but other than the restraints at her wrists, she looked unharmed. Terrified, but unharmed.

  The sense of relief almost overwhelmed him.

  He exhaled slowly before turning back to Parnell. His hands clenched into fists, and it took all of his willpower not to lunge. He'd never before experienced the urge to do serious bodily harm, but the fear in Nikki's eyes released in him a primitive urge to wrap his hands around the kid's throat and slowly choke the life out of him.

  Unfortunately, giving in to the urge could have disastrous consequences if Parnell decided to actually use that gun in his hand.

  "Whatever this is about," he said, attempting to sound reasonable, "it has nothing to do with Nikki."

  Parnell rubbed his jaw. "I'm not entirely convinced of that fact."

  "This is between you and me. Let her go."

  Parnell tilted his head, as if considering for a moment. Then he shook his head. "I don't think so."

  "Why not?"

  "Because she's obviously important to you, or you wouldn't have broken land-speed records to get here."

  "I'm only interested in making sure nobody gets hurt," Colin said.

  "You were married to her once."

  "A long time ago," he said.

  "You were with her in Pennsylvania."

  Colin didn't know how Parnell could know that, but he didn't dare deny it. He shrugged, deliberately nonchalant. "I was lonely. She was available."

  He couldn't look at Nikki. He didn't want to see how she might react to his callous dismissal of everything they'd shared over the past few weeks. He could only hope that he'd get a chance to explain, and that she would understand.

  "She really doesn't mean anything to you?"

  Colin shrugged again, hoping against hope that his cavalier attitude would succeed in getting Parnell to let Nikki go. He didn't care if she didn't let him explain, if she hated him forever, as long as she was alive to do so. "We had some good times."

  Parnell considered for a moment. "That's a good story," he said at last. "Except for one thing."

  The faint stirring of hope faded. "What's that?"

  "She came all the way to Texas to see you."

  "I didn't ask her to come," Colin said quickly. "I didn't even know she was here until you called."

  Parnell pointed the gun at him. "Don't lie to me."

  "He didn't know I was coming."

  Nikki's blurted admission succeeded in drawing Parnell's attention away from Colin and back to her, which was exactly what Colin had been trying to avoid.

  "Then why are you here?" Parnell demanded.

  "Colin left Pennsylvania rather abruptly," she said. "I wanted to see him again … to clear up a possible misunderstanding."

  "What kind of misunderstanding?"

  She finally turned and met his gaze. He didn't have any trouble reading the emotions in her eyes this time: regret, fear, love.

  "There was something I forgot to tell you before you left," she said softly.

  He knew what she was going to say, and at any other time he would have been overjoyed to hear the words. But now, an admission of her feelings could get her killed.

  "There's nothing left to say," he interrupted harshly, silently begging her to back off.

  But her gaze never flickered. "I came to Texas for a reason," she told him. "This may be my last chance, so I'm going to say it. I love you, Colin."

  The joy at hearing her finally speak those words filled his heart, as did the terror of what Parnell would do with this information.

  "Ahh," Parnell mocked. "Isn't that sweet?"

  He turned to Colin, a triumphant gleam in his eye. "Now I want to hear you say it, Coach. I want to know how you really feel about this woman."

  It was an effort to tear his eyes away from Nikki, but he forced himself to do so. If Parnell had even a hint of his true feelings for Nikki, it would all be over.

  "I feel sorry for her," Colin said. "She obviously can't let go of the past. She can't accept that whatever feelings I had for her died a long time ago."

  Parnell's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Wrong answer."

  Then he pulled the trigger.

  Chapter 18

  "That was to get your attention. To let you know that I'm not afraid to use this gun."

  Parnell was pleased that his voice was calm, despite the fact that the recoil from the shot had startled him. He looked from the hole in the wall to MacIver to the woman and back again. MacIver's face had gone positively ashen and the woman's eyes were filled with tears.

  He smiled. "Now tell the truth, Coach, or the next bullet may be fatal."

  MacIver swallowed, glanced helplessly at the woman.

  Before he could speak, the phone on the desk began to shrill.

  Parnell jolted at the sound.

  It rang again. Dammit, how was he supposed to think with this kind of interruption? He snatched up the receiver with his free hand.

  "What?"

  "Duncan Parnell?" a cool voice asked.

  He muttered a curse, wondering how anyone could have tracked him down here. "Who's asking?"

  "It's Detective Brock with the Austin P.D.," the caller informed him. "We heard a shot fired inside and wanted to make sure everyone was okay in there."

  Sweat beaded on his upper lip as the implications of the cop's words sank in. He stretched the phone cord over to the window. Looking through the slats of the blinds, he saw at least a dozen police cars parked outside the building. Dammit, this was not part of his plan.

  "Is everyone okay?" Brock asked again.

  "What the hell business is it of yours?"

  "I want to negotiate with you for the release of the hostages," the cop said patiently. "But first I need to know that they're unharmed."

  Sweat trickled into his eyes, stinging them. He blinked fiercely, as his mind grasped for a way to salvage the situation.

  "We have the building surrounded," Brock warned him. "There are snipers on the roof across the street."

  He was bluffing. Even if there were snipers, Parnell was confident they wouldn't be able to target him through the blinds. From outside, they'd only be able to see shadows. They wouldn't risk shooting McIver or the woman by mistake.

  "The only way for you to get out of there alive is to release t
he hostages and surrender."

  Parnell shook his head. No way in hell was he going to surrender. This was his show and he'd be damned before he'd let anyone take him off center stage.

  "They're not hostages," he told the cop. "They're victims. And the only thing left to negotiate is which one will die first."

  He slammed down the phone.

  Colin flinched, his last hope that he and Nikki would get out of there alive decimated by Parnell's words.

  "You must have thought you were pretty clever," Parnell snarled at him. "Bringing the cops in."

  "I was trying to help you."

  Parnell's laugh was derisive. "Like you were helping when you benched me?"

  "Even Gil saw that you were too messed up to be playing."

  Parnell faltered for just a second. "Gil?"

  "He's the one who told me about the pills."

  "Bullshit. Gil wouldn't betray me. It was Jonesy—Jonesy figured he could have my slot if you pulled me from the line-up."

  "It was Gil," Colin said again. "And he told me because he was worried about you."

  "You're lying," Parnell said again, sounding just a little desperate now. "It was Jonesy. You and Jonesy ruined my career. Now it's time for payback."

  He leveled the gun at Colin.

  "Think about this, Parnell," Colin was openly pleading now. "You won't get out of here alive if you start shooting."

  "I only need one shot," Parnell said, and he turned the gun toward Nikki. "For her."

  Please, God, no.

  Colin had never been a particularly religious man, but he was praying fervently now.

  "It will be even better than killing you," Parnell told him. "Because you'll suffer more watching the life bleed out of the woman you love than you would by dying."

  He was going to pull the trigger.

  Looking into his cold dark eyes, Nikki didn't doubt it for a second. Duncan Parnell was going to pull the trigger again, and this time she was going to die.

  Fear paralyzed her for half a second, until she remembered why she'd come to Texas today. She wasn't going to give up.

  She needed that determination now more than ever. She refused to let Duncan Parnell destroy their hopes for a future together or make their little girl an orphan. She wasn't going to let him win.

  She bent her knees and braced her bound feet against the desk.