Tristan (The Kendall Family #1)

by Randi Everheart

  A low stone wall surrounded the inn’s small front yard, but he bypassed the front entrance for the building’s side, pausing at the first window to peer in. An unoccupied bathroom. He moved to the next window. An elegant dining room, with two couples enjoying dessert. Continuing around flower beds and bushes to the final window, he looked in. Empty. Just the bottom of the stairs, a foyer, and a registration desk.

  Suddenly a woman’s legs appeared, descending the stairs. As Victoria came into view, he felt relief. But another woman came down right behind her, discreetly holding a gun at Victoria’s back. Shock ripped through Riley. Then the Marine snapped into focus, pulling out his own weapon.

  Tristan descended next, and right behind him, the bike thief, holding a gun at Tristan’s back. The four paused at the bottom, all glancing around for witnesses. Riley watched them move toward the back door. He made it to the rear corner and watched them enter a gold Acura MDX SUV, which faced away from him, offering no clear shot at the kidnappers. The thief sat behind the wheel, Tristan and Victoria were in back, and the woman took the front passenger seat, turned around, and trained her gun on them.

  When the car started, headlights blazing on, Riley realized the thief had to drop the gun to drive. Only the girl would be ready. As a trained sniper, he could take her out fast despite the darkness. He might even get the driver quickly enough, but it was risky. And there’d be the question of whether Riley had murdered them, but he’d accept jail before letting Tristan and Victoria be killed, which seemed the obvious outcome here.

  As the car turned down the driveway on the opposite side of the house, Riley took off at a run down his side of the house. Both made it to the front yard at the same time. No traffic was coming so the SUV pulled out without hesitation. Riley swore. It turned away, giving him no shot. He noted the license plate and ran for his motorcycle and jumped on, not bothering with the helmet, which he just knocked to the ground while holstering his Nighthawk. He took off in pursuit.

  * * *

  Larry watched from upstairs as the kidnappers left, red tail lights vanishing into a darkness that matched the feeling in his heart. A beautiful day had turned sinister. He felt sick.

  He’d known about Rick’s affair with Jane and the operation for years, but the details were largely kept from him. He’d been in charge of shipments when he’d overheard Rick lying to Sheriff Ryan about where a bike had come from. Snooping had led to catching his boss in more lies and finally Rick had read him in on it.

  He’d found out about Jane, too, but not the blackmailing, because a drunk Rick had let it slip one night while bemoaning the state of his marriage and this business with the mob. It helped explain why Rick had been adamant for so long that no one else from CMS come on the trips; it was impossible to not realize he was screwing someone other than his wife while here. Since then, several other employees had become part of the operation, even being the ones stealing bikes, like they had with Tristan’s. They’d never stolen Victoria’s because Larry told them he wouldn’t tolerate something being done to her. And now something so much worse was underway.

  “We have to do something,” Larry said to Rick.

  “Like what? We don’t even know where they’re going.”

  “I overheard Derek through the door. They’re going to a warehouse in Crozet. I have the address.”

  Rick perked up. “Well, that’s a start.”

  Larry pulled a gun out of his trousers. “I’ve been carrying this for a while,” he admitted, holding it with vague familiarity instead of the confidence of Derek. “So at least one of us has a gun.”

  “When the hell did you get that?”

  “After Derek beat up Mike at CMS last year. I knew that fucker was trouble the first time I laid eyes on him.”

  “No shit.” After a moment of silence, Rick suggested, “Let’s just call the cops. Stay out of it.”

  “They might not get there in time.”

  “They’ll get there faster than us. Besides, what are you gonna do? Ever fire that thing at someone?”

  “No, but—”

  “Well Derek has. You can tell from looking at him. He’s not bluffing. And both of them have guns.”

  Larry yelled, “Are you really just gonna do nothing while he murders them?”

  “Keep your voice down! I said let’s call the damn cops and let them handle it. And do it anonymously.”

  “Well the hell for?”

  “Because I don’t want to be associated with a kidnapping.”

  “Too fucking late for that! What do you think, Tristan and Victoria aren’t gonna say anything if they live? You’re already fucked.”

  “I know that, Goddamnit!” Rick yelled, his face turning red.

  Larry pulled a smartphone from his pants and began dialing. “This is all your fucking fault. Stop thinking of yourself. I’m calling the damn cops now and heading to that warehouse.”

  “Then what?”

  “I’ll figure that out after I get there. Are you coming or not?” Not waiting for an answer, Larry stomped out of the room.

  * * *

  The gold SUV cruised along Route I-64 East toward Charlottesville with Riley not far behind. Light traffic in both directions made the pursuit easy. And darkness made it harder for Derek to recognize Riley from earlier. The Marine decided to risk letting his brother know he and Victoria weren’t alone in this. He pulled into the next lane and slowly advanced until beside the seat where Tristan sat looking forward. Pulling ahead would get his brother’s attention, but also Derek’s, possibly. He revved the engine twice. Still Tristan didn’t look, but Victoria did. Her eyes widened in recognition and Riley revved the engine one last time. His brother turned, made eye contact, winked, and turned back, all with a stone-faced expression. As Riley began to drop back, he saw Tristan start gesturing as if arguing with his captors.

  “Good,” Riley said to himself. “Distract them so they forget about me.”

  A few miles later, the SUV pulled off onto Rockfish Gap Turnpike, a more localized road leading toward Crozet. Riley increased the gap because the lighter traffic made him more conspicuous. They reached the town minutes later. The SUV pulled into the rear lot of a warehouse, the kind of place where criminals murdered people. He drove by, loudly revving the bike to make the thieves notice and assume he was continuing onward. Tristan would know better.

  As Riley passed the warehouse’s front lot, he saw no vehicles or signs of activity. He pulled into the next building’s empty lot, disengaging the clutch so that the engine made no noise while he coasted to a good parking spot far from the road, out of sight. He turned off the Night Rod, dismounted, and grabbed the binoculars and hunting knife. Then he jogged around the building to a parked car in the rear lot overlooking the SUV, and ducked behind it. Peering through the binoculars, which had night vision, he saw no signs of life in the SUV.

  “Already inside,” he said, wishing he knew which door. He pulled out his phone and dialed.

  “Officer Conway,” said the voice on the other end.

  “Hey, it’s Riley Kendall. I got a problem and you need to come quick.”

  “Where are you? I thought you’d be here. I’m at Somerset Inn with other officers. Found the bike.”

  “Never mind the bike. Bigger problem. After I called you, I saw a man and a woman, both with guns, forcing my brother and his girlfriend into a gold SUV with Virginia tags.”

  “Kidnapping? Are you serious? Stuff like that doesn’t happen around here.”

  Before Riley could respond, he heard other voices in the background over the phone, telling Officer Conway something. Only snatches of words reached him before Conway spoke to him again.

  “Hey, Riley, we just got an anonymous call about a kidnapping here at the inn. Guy and a girl, both with guns, taking out another guy and a girl.”

  “No shit.”

  “We got an address for a warehouse in Crozet. Caller wouldn’t say how they came to have that.”

  “That’s w
here I am, watching the car,” he said, wondering who’d called. “There’s an old warehouse south of the main intersection by the railroad tracks. They’re inside.”

  “Be there in ten minutes.”

  “No lights or sirens.”

  “Hey, don’t do anything stupid. You’re not a cop.”

  “I’ll worry about that later.”

  “Riley—”

  He snapped the phone shut. If he had a choice between jail or the death of his brother and Victoria, he’d already made it. Riley pulled out his gun and spare clip and prepared to go to war.

  Chapter 19 – Murder

  Inside the old warehouse, Tristan stood with one arm around a trembling and barefoot Victoria. He felt tense, alert for any chance to escape, the knowledge that Riley was nearby his only comfort. The fear in her brown eyes hurt Tristan more than any bullet could; knowing that a trained sniper was on their side hadn’t helped her. The moment a shot was fired, he knew Riley wouldn’t be far behind, so he prepared to sacrifice himself and draw their attention. Maybe if he took every bullet, there’d be none left for Victoria.

  On entering the building through a rusting door, they’d found themselves in a small office with dust-covered desks and filing cabinets. Derek and Jane had ushered them through another door to a loading bay with a tall, wide garage door to let trucks in. A few empty pallets and discarded cardboard boxes littered the room’s corners. On one side, tall stacks of boxes made it hard to tell if another exit stood beyond them. From the dust and general disrepair, it seemed no one had used the place in quite a while.

  The two captives stood in the room’s center while the pair with guns barred the way out. Derek stood fifteen feet away from his victims to discourage a lunge toward him, and yet close enough that any bullet he fired wouldn’t miss. His eyes darted around the room and Tristan had the impression he’d never been here.

  “Watch the door,” Derek commanded Jane.

  “Expecting someone?” Tristan asked, hoping to put off his execution with talk.

  Derek replied, “Yeah, someone to take your bodies out of here.”

  “You gonna tie them up?” Jane asked, in position.

  “Nothing to do that with,” replied Derek. “We won’t be leaving them alone, so I’m not worried about it. If anyone makes a stupid move, they get a bullet in the head.”

  Tristan took a deep breath. “My cousin’s a cop,” he began.

  Derek interrupted, “Good. I like killing cops.”

  “They tend to shoot guys like you instead of bring them in.”

  Derek waved the gun around, smirking. “Fortunately for me, they aren’t anywhere around here.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Don’t try to play mind games with me, kid. No one knows you’re here except the three guys coming to help dispose of your remains.”

  Three more, Tristan thought. Better do something before they arrive. At least I know how many to expect. He had an idea for stalling and said, “You know my brother’s a Marine. Sharpshooter.”

  “Good. I can kill him, too.” Derek laughed.

  “He’s also a biker. This morning, he followed you from CMS.”

  Victoria squeezed his hand in warning. He just squeezed back, feeling certain of himself.

  “Bullshit,” Derek said.

  “He knows what you look like.”

  “Sure he does.”

  “On Skyline Drive, you stopped at an overlook to take a shit. A guy on a Harley stopped next to you, talked to you a minute about the bike you were on. My bike.”

  Derek’s smirk fell, eyes narrowing. Somehow that made him appear more dangerous.

  Tristan continued, “Then he rode behind you to Rockfish Gap. You lost him at a stop light when you went west on 64.”

  Derek hesitated. “Even if that was true, like you said, I lost him.”

  “He knows I was on the mountain tour,” began Tristan. “He was grabbing a bite to eat and then was on his way to the inn. He’s probably there even now, looking at the bike.”

  Derek’s bravado returned. “Then I’ll know where to go to shoot him.”

  “He’d have called the cops by now and they should be there already. I doubt you’d have the chance to shoot anyone.”

  “Then I’ll just leave the damn bike.”

  “I’m guessing your fingerprints are all over it.”

  “I wear gloves, asshole.”

  “All the time? You take off a glove to get into your wallet, don’t you? Are you sure you didn’t touch the tank while filling it up?”

  Doubt appeared in Derek’s eyes, but what he said was, “Don’t think that you’re getting out of this.”

  “You’re the one who needs to get out of this,” Tristan remarked. “My brother discreetly snapped your picture beside my bike,” he continued, though it had only been a picture of the bike, not Derek. “He sent it to me. It’s on my phone back at the inn. The investigation into our disappearance will turn it up. You’ll be the prime suspect.”

  “Shit,” Jane swore. “Maybe you should go back for the phone. Or I should.”

  Derek shook his head. “He’s just stalling for time.”

  “Christ,” she said. “This is getting out of hand. I didn’t sign up for this shit.”

  Derek shot her a hard look. “Yes, you did. Now shut your mouth and do what I tell you.”

  Tristan wondered if Jane was as tough as she’d acted back with Rick. Maybe she wasn’t willing to use that gun after all. Or go down in flames with Derek. Maybe he could widen the discord between them and delay a murder.

  Before he had a chance, Victoria cleared her throat and spoke up. “The cops might not know about the kidnapping yet, but they will when no one can find us but the Goldwing we rented is still at the inn.”

  “Right,” said Tristan, holding her closer. They’d get out of this together. “And how long do you think Larry and Rick will keep their mouths shut with the police questioning everyone? Rick already looked ready to crack.”

  Victoria added, “Are you sure we weren’t seen leaving? A half-dozen guests could’ve seen you. They’re probably got a description of your car.”

  Tristan nodded. “Maybe you should go move it.”

  Jane looked interested in that idea but Derek sneered and said, “Nice try, splitting us up. No more talk. And—”

  The sound of first one car door and then another shutting outside stopped him.

  “A car pulled up,” said Jane, moving toward a front window.

  “Probably my guys,” Derek said, turning to his captives with a grin. “Enough stalling. Which one of you wants to die first?”

  * * *

  Outside, Riley saw only the empty SUV parked behind the warehouse that had seen better days. The gutters were rusted and weeds filled the cracks in the driveway and sidewalks. A few broken windows offered a peek into the nearer rooms. They were dark and empty of people. Before moving in for a closer look, he scanned the area to see if anyone was nearby. No one. Only three cars had gone through the lighted intersection visible from where he stood. Businesses appeared closed, but off to one side, the lights from a supermarket’s parking lot lit the night. Anyone there would hear a gun fired outside.

  His ears heard two motorcycles approaching the same way he’d come, so he turned back to the warehouse. The riders slowed to a full stop in the street, putting their feet down and looking around while gesturing at each other. He watched until they pulled into a nearby parking lot, dismounted, and turned to stare at the warehouse’s rear lot like him.

  “Shit,” Riley muttered. “Now I can’t go down there.”

  The men didn’t remove their helmets, keeping Riley from getting a sense of who they were. Logic said they weren’t helping the thief because they would’ve parked closer and gone inside. And yet they clearly knew something was going on, and had known before getting here. They hadn’t followed the SUV like Riley. Only the motorcycles gave him a clue they might be from CMS’ mountain tour, as those
people could’ve noticed something going on with Tristan and Victoria and come to investigate, but that seemed unlikely, too.

  These guys might prevent him from rescuing anyone. Maybe he could find another way in where they weren’t watching, but taking his eyes off of them and having them at his back didn’t sit well either. One of them pulled out a gun, checked it, and put it back in his pants.

  And then things got worse.

  As a black Dodge Charger pulled up and slowed, the two bikers hid behind some bushes. The car shut off its headlights as it turned into the warehouse’s rear lot, long before stopping behind the SUV.

  Reinforcements, he thought.

  Three rough-looking men got out of the Charger, chatting as they headed to the warehouse. If they went in, they’d come out with two bodies. If Riley shot at them, he’d give away his presence to those inside, ruining surprise, but maybe gunfire would inhibit them from executing anyone. Or hasten that. Either way, Riley had to act now. The two bikers across the way no longer concerned him as much.

  Riley put down the binoculars and quickly took aim, firing a shot. The sound rent the air and sparks flew as the bullet ricocheted off the ground and then the building’s rear door. The men gave out a shout and lurched backward, pulling out guns that confirmed Riley’s suspicion that they were trouble. They hid behind the Charger and looked around, focusing on his direction. Unfortunately, when Riley picked up the binoculars and peered through them again, a reflection on the lenses gave away his position. Two of the men aimed at him. He ducked as bullets struck the car.

  He smiled to himself. It had been a while since he’d been in a gunfight. It might’ve been three against one, but he was a trained sniper. He’d shot at the ground separating the men from the warehouse on purpose, to keep them out. Those guys were never getting in that building.