“Douse the whole place. Top to bottom.”
“I’ll do this room,” Dante told him, starting immediately. “You get the living room.”
Thankfully, Marcus didn’t put up a fight.
Half an hour later, they’d completed their task, the walls, the floors, the furniture all bloodied. There were smears on the walls, the linens, even the hardwood.
Dante’s mind had cleared the closer they got to the end. The only thing he could think about was his next fix. Marcus had promised him he’d get all he needed once they took care of setting the scene.
He eyed JJ, who was still unconscious in her bed. He hoped she didn’t wake up. Not until they were gone. Then he hoped she panicked when she saw the blood and remembered how scared he’d been. If all went well, she would call his dad, tell him she thought he was kidnapped … although he was a bit confused about that part. Why would JJ think someone had taken him? He hadn’t had a chance to set the scene with a story.
Dante was still pondering that dilemma when Marcus returned to the room wielding an enormous chef’s knife.
“What’s that for?” he demanded, coming to stand to block JJ.
“Don’t worry, you big sissy. I ain’t gonna cut her.” Marcus sidestepped him, then grabbed the syringe. “I’m gonna give her this so she’ll sleep till morning. The longer the better.”
“Why the knife?”
Marcus glanced at the shiny blade then back to him, smirked. “Just felt like the thing to do. Now get outta the way.”
As much as it pained him, Dante kept his eyes on JJ the entire time, watched as Marcus jabbed her in the arm with the needle, right through her sweatshirt, then pushed the plunger and filled her with the drugs. Not once did it cross his mind that she might not wake up from that. Not until after it was done.
“What now?” Dante asked, hating that his stomach was churning. What he needed was another hit, something to get him through the rest of the night.
“Now you leave.”
Turning, Dante walked out of JJ’s room, into the minuscule hallway. He didn’t make it very far when Marcus started laughing.
When he turned, it was to find Marcus standing with his hand on the door, gearing up to close it so Dante was on the wrong side of it.
“Why don’t you go wait in the car,” Marcus said with a snort. “I’m just gonna be a few minutes.”
Instinct took over and Dante slammed his hand on the door, pushing it open. His other hand went to the jamb, allowing leverage to keep Marcus from closing himself in the room with JJ.
“I can’t let you do that,” Dante growled. “Let’s get outta here. Now.”
Marcus’s eyes were a little wild when he said, “You’re not gonna let me?”
“You’ll screw up the whole plan,” Dante warned, wanting to get back on track. He knew better than to push Marcus. The guy was a lit fuse as it was, but no way was he going to allow Marcus to assault JJ. No way.
“Ain’t nobody gonna be the wiser.” Marcus glanced over his shoulder to where JJ lay unconscious on the bed. “Certainly not her.”
“I said no,” Dante demanded. “Not part of the deal.”
When Marcus’s eyes met his again, that sense of foreboding returned. Only this time, there was good reason.
“Fine. You win.” Marcus let the door swing open as he stepped forward.
Relieved, Dante gripped the doorjamb to keep himself upright. “Now can we get outta here? I need another fix.”
That was the moment Marcus took advantage, swinging the knife like a heavy hitter, the blade severing Dante’s finger clean off before lodging in the doorjamb.
Slouching back on the couch, Dante cradled his arm to his chest, willing the throbbing in his hand to abate. The white bandage he’d fashioned around the missing digit was showing blood again, but surprisingly, it was a lot less than he’d thought. What he needed was a doctor, but Marcus was right when he’d told him their plan would fail if he sought medical treatment, because they would realize he hadn’t been kidnapped.
If the fucking idiot hadn’t hacked off his finger, they wouldn’t be in this predicament.
Dante watched through drug- and pain-hazed eyes as Marcus paced the floor, his eyes continuously sliding from his phone to the clock on the wall and back again.
“Why aren’t you calling them? Making demands?” Dante asked.
After all, that was the plan. Stage the abduction, let JJ warn his family, then call with the ransom demand. Maybe not exactly smart, but it sounded foolproof. And as much as Dante hated to do it, he knew there weren’t a whole lot of options. Since he was eyeball deep in debt to both his bookie and his dealer, and Marcus had been sent to collect for the failed bets, Dante didn’t have much of a choice. He damn sure wasn’t waiting for the next collector to appear.
Marcus smiled down at his phone, then tucked it into his pocket. “We’ve got to be patient,” he replied, his hands wringing as he continued to pace. “I figured the drugs’ve worn off at this point. She’s probably awake.” Marcus glanced his way. “Such a shame you had to be such a dick. I could’ve left her something to wake up to.”
Dante’s stomach lurched, the thought of what Marcus had intended to do to JJ making him nauseous.
“Oh, well. Maybe next time.” Marcus started pacing again. “You said the first thing she’d do is call your old man, right?”
Yeah. Dante had said that. That and a whole lot more. “Or her boss,” Dante supplied.
“He’s the cop guy, right?”
“Task force,” Dante corrected. “But yeah. Once he knows what happened, he’ll call my dad. They’ll be expecting a ransom call.”
Even as the words came out, Dante couldn’t believe he was saying them. He couldn’t believe he’d stooped this low.
He blamed it on the drugs. While he was capable of moving through life pretending not to be high as a kite, Dante had long ago given himself over to his addiction. It was an expensive habit, but it allowed him to get through each day, to deal with the shitty hand he’d been dealt. People thought it was easy being the son of a politician, but they were wrong. So many rules, so many expectations. Everyone thought he had it easy because his parents paid for most of what he had—his two-bedroom apartment overlooking Lady Bird Lake, his brand-new Lexus LS.
Dante didn’t see it as them providing for him. It was more of a payment. For him to continue to play the dutiful son. After all, his father expected so much, said he had to always be on his best behavior. Whenever he went to a strip club, he’d get read the riot act. God forbid he went to a club and was seen with a hot chick who wasn’t some debutante. No one should have to live like that.
“Once they see all that blood, they’ll think you’re dead,” Marcus mused.
They would. And that, Dante knew, could be a problem. The intention had been to make them believe he was seriously injured, to plant the idea that the kidnappers weren’t playing around. But the amount of blood they’d left in JJ’s house … no way would anyone survive an injury like that.
The majority of the blood—which was supposed to be all the blood—that they’d decorated JJ’s house with had been that of animals. Dante hadn’t been a part of the blood-gathering process, thank God. Marcus had gladly offered to gather what they needed to make the scene believable. As for what they’d do when the task force decided to run a DNA test on the blood and found out it wasn’t human, Dante had no idea. But he seemed to be the only one worried about it. According to Marcus, it was handled.
Only a little while longer. Another hour. Two. Then it’d be time to call his father, demand money. Once it was delivered to Marcus—a plan that, in Dante’s opinion, was also rather foolproof, too—Dante would be returned safely.
At least that was what Dante was telling himself. He absolutely did not want to think that Marcus could actually be a crazed killer and, in doing this, he’d unleashed the beast.
*
Juliet Prince sat cross-legged on the bed in the cheap, run-down motel room, he
r pawn-shop-purchased laptop open in front of her.
No, her accommodations weren’t what she was used to, but she’d been learning how to deal. She had enough clothes to last her three days, enough quarters to wash those clothes when it became necessary again, and free Wi-Fi. What more could a girl ask for?
Everything.
That was what Juliet wanted. She wanted every goddamn thing. And she wanted Travis Walker to give it to her.
Lifting her head, Juliet caught sight of the peeling tan wallpaper just beneath the water stain on the ceiling in the corner.
Yeah, she fucking hated it here. It smelled like cheap booze and piss, and she refused to think what they might actually wash the sheets with. If they washed them at all.
But it was easier staying in the rent-by-the-hour, no-questions-for-cash motels than worrying about identification and whatnot. Since she’d been forced to give up her identity thanks to that bastard Travis Walker, she was honing a new skill: adaptation.
In the interim, of course, because this damn sure wasn’t how she intended to live out the rest of her days. Nor did she intend to spend a minute in a cage.
She glanced at the burner phone sitting beside her, saw that Marcus had moved on to the raunchy portion of their conversation. Juliet was happy to ignore it. No way in hell would she touch that man. Not with another woman’s vagina, thank you very much. However, he’d become the perfect patsy when she’d hit a roadblock during her attempt to seduce Dante Greenwood.
Juliet wouldn’t say it’d been luck that had brought Dante to her attention. No, that was due to an incredible amount of research into the life of Travis Walker. Through myriad connections to various people, Juliet had lucked out in finding the one she thought would be the perfect target. When she had learned that Travis Walker’s cousin was the one who had found Kate and forced Juliet to run, she’d looked more into him. It was then she learned that the governor of Texas had created a task force and put Brantley Walker in charge of it.
Meaning there was a connection between Travis Walker and the governor, and that was an avenue she found far too intriguing to ignore.
She’d reached out to the governor’s son, Dante, via an online dating profile he’d created, which was rather bleak if you asked her. The guy honestly had nothing much going for him except for material things. Not that Juliet cared. She wasn’t looking for love or romance, nor had she been when she came across him.
Unfortunately, the man was far too wrapped up in himself to be of much use to her. When she had attempted to get details about his past, he’d shut down real quick, fostering more discussions about sex in order to find out what her various fetishes might be. And since the only reason she’d made the connection was to get dirt on Travis Walker and those he associated with, and Dante wasn’t willing to dish, she decided not to waste her time.
Granted, striking up a conversation with the Marcus guy had been pure coincidence. Or luck, either way. She’d been making one last-ditch effort to connect with Dante when she got a response from this guy.
Based on the few text conversations they’d had, she was pretty sure he was batshit crazy, but Juliet figured that could certainly work in her favor. When he mentioned a plan to extort money from the governor of Texas, she’d thought he was delusional. Nope. He wasn’t. They had in fact concocted a fake kidnapping scheme that they were hoping would net them a million dollars.
What was amusing was the fact Marcus actually thought a million dollars was enough to incentivize her to screw him.
In that he was delusional.
But she couldn’t write Marcus off just yet. When he had informed her they were using Dante’s ex-girlfriend—Jessica James, also an acquaintance of Travis Walker—in their plan, she knew she’d hit gold.
Well, a little bit of the credit had to go to Samuel Aldering, a man who Juliet had gotten acquainted with a couple of months back. He happened to be a computer genius and quite the hacker to boot. Getting him to assist had required some effort on her part. But who was she if not dedicated?
Fucking the man so she had something to hold over him had been relatively easy. Being that he was married with four kids and didn’t wish to have his wife find out he was a lying, cheating bastard, he had gladly given Juliet the access she requested.
Which was how she’d ended up sitting here watching the scene at Jessica James’s house play out. It was disappointing that two of the cameras weren’t working, so she was restricted to only seeing what was going on in the front yard, but it was getting interesting. She’d just watched one man whisk Jessica away while Brantley Walker, the Navy SEAL who had spoiled her plans in Mississippi, and his partner, whose name she still did not know, did a cursory search around the house.
“Come on. It’s time to go back inside,” Juliet whispered to the men on screen. “Don’t you want to take one more look?”
Juliet peered up at the clock on the screen. She had set a timer to count down based on what Marcus had told her. When it reached the sixty-minute mark, she intended to send a text that would set everything in motion. By the end of today, she would be home free, and her plan to end Travis Walker once and for all would be a success.
“Not long now,” she muttered at the screen.
Not long at all.
Chapter Fifteen
“What the fuck!” Brantley exclaimed, watching Baz’s truck disappear down the street.
“Somethin’ wrong?”
Turning his attention back to the man on the other end of the phone, Brantley answered his brother the only way he knew how. He lied. “Nothin’ that wasn’t already wrong. I’d appreciate if you could get over here. We’ve got a crime scene to process.”
“What do you mean a crime scene?”
“I don’t have time to explain, Trey. Get your ass over to JJ’s.”
“At least tell me she’s all right,” Trey demanded.
“Yes. Shit. Sorry. She’s fine.” Not to mention, gone. “Can you put a rush on it?”
“Give me fifteen.”
“Better make it five or the sheriff’s likely to get here first,” Brantley told his brother before disconnecting the call.
He immediately dialed Baz’s number. No surprise, the guy didn’t answer.
Reese strolled out from the side of the house. “I didn’t see any unusual tracks back there, but— What’s wrong?”
“Baz just hauled ass outta here,” he said on a huff. “With JJ.”
Reese peered down the street, as though that might give him insight, maybe? “Did you try callin’ him?”
Rather than answer, Brantley gave him the do you think I’m an idiot? stare.
“And did he answer?” Reese drawled, clearly irritated by the look.
“No. You talk to the sheriff?”
“I did. He’s on his way. I told him to bring only his most trusted deputy for now. We don’t need this to leak before we know what we’re dealin’ with.”
“Good call.” Brantley only wished he did know what they were dealing with.
There were simply too many avenues to pursue and not nearly enough evidence. Especially considering Dante was the governor’s son, which made him high-profile. His first thought was that this was a kidnap and ransom. It was the most logical conclusion.
On the other hand, the scene inside JJ’s was a bit dramatic for that. What was with all the blood? And why tear up JJ’s place? It felt personal to him and most K and Rs weren’t.
He glanced around the yard, the driveway. “Why’d Dante come here?” he mused aloud. “Why’d he involve JJ? If he was comin’ to her for help, I have to assume someone followed him here. Which means, by callin’ her, he led them right to her door.”
“Good point. Maybe he didn’t know they were on to him, and he thought she’d be able to help.”
“Yeah. Maybe. But surely he knew he was in danger. JJ said he was panicked. Why the fuck would he involve her?”
That was what pissed Brantley off the most. Fucking Dante. He could’ve r
eached out to Brantley for help. The fool did not need to drag JJ into this.
Then again, Dante never was the brightest bulb. He tended to leap before he thought, and this time was obviously no different.
“Come on. Let’s go inside and have a look around before the sheriff gets here.” He pulled another pair of gloves out of one of his many pockets, passed them to Reese.
Reese fell into step with him as they returned to the house.
“I’d bet Dante called her because she’s probably the only one he knows who wouldn’t tell him to get fucked,” Reese said, closing the front door and blocking out the bright light.
Brantley chuckled. “Yeah, probably. Although she’s the first one who should.”
It was no secret that Brantley didn’t care for Dante. Not even a little. They weren’t friends, and Brantley had no qualms making that fact known. However, he had a sworn duty to his position on the task force to uphold the law and to protect the governor’s best interest. Although the relationship between father and son was strained, Brantley knew Governor Greenwood wouldn’t want any harm to come to his son.
Then again, unbeknownst to everyone, the task force wouldn’t exist come Monday, so did he really have any loyalties there?
“Did you get ahold of Charlie?” Brantley asked, careful not to disturb anything more than he had to as he pulled out his phone and began snapping pictures.
“I did, yeah. She’s on her way.” Reese moved when he did. “The sheriff’s gonna want to talk to JJ.”
“He’s got every right to want to. Doesn’t mean it’s gonna happen.” He glanced over at his partner. “She doesn’t know anything.”
“Doesn’t matter. She was the last to see Dante, and her house is covered in blood.”
“Blood that belongs to Dante,” he conceded.
“Yes. Although we don’t know that for a fact. Could be some of that blood belongs to whoever’s got Dante. Maybe there was a fight. We don’t know anything at this point.”
Brantley stared at Reese, wishing the man wasn’t always so rational. At the moment, he was considering praising Baz for getting JJ away from all this shit. Although he’d told her she wouldn’t go to jail, he’d been placating her. He knew nothing of the sort. And truthfully, they didn’t have time to prove she hadn’t had a hand in this. If he was a law enforcement officer stumbling on the scene, the first thing he’d do was arrest JJ. The second would be to search for the body, because with that much blood…
Deadly Coincidence (Brantley Walker: Off the Books Book 4) Page 17
