Since he’d phoned Jock earlier that day to let him know the case had been wrapped up, he found it odd that his friend would be calling back so soon. “I’ll take it in my office.”
Liza surprised him by extending the receiver. “He says he can’t wait that long.”
Steve’s earlier reservations flooded back full force. Something was wrong. Very wrong. In his gut, he knew whatever it was, it involved Kate. Heart thumping and adrenaline surging, he crossed the room and snatched the receiver from Liza’s fingers.
“Gallagher here.”
“I’m afraid I’ve got bad news, buddy,” Jock said without preamble. “Turns out the guy who was arrested for stalking your ex-wife is Quincy Ellis’s brother-in-law. Not only that, but everything he did, he did under Quincy’s explicit orders. Or so he now swears.”
Steve sucked in a harsh breath. “Why?”
“He claims he had no choice, that Quincy was blackmailing him, and that he was terrified not to do what he’d been told. He also claims that killing your ex-wife was never part of the plan. She wasn’t even the real target. I’ll give you two guesses who Quincy was really after.”
There was no guesswork involved in his answer. “Me,” he said dully.
“You got it.”
Like the tumblers of a lock under a master thief s fingers, the missing puzzle pieces fell into place. He finally understood. All those near misses. It had never been about Kate. All along, it had been about him. That was what had been niggling at him. He was the target. Kate was just the bait.
Quincy was the only one who truly knew the extent of Steve’s love for Kate, and he’d used that knowledge to his advantage. He’d forced Kate to hire a bodyguard, knowing she’d come to Steve. Then he’d played with them, with their emotions, like a cat with a cornered mouse. Quincy had wanted Steve to know that, even behind bars, he was a force to be reckoned with. And that when and if he was ever released, he’d be exacting his revenge. Personally.
For once, when the familiar rage filled him, Steve welcomed it. Visions of exactly how he’d make Quincy pay for every second of anguish the man had caused Kate swirled drunkenly through his brain. They were followed by the echo of a familiar voice. You’re just like me, boy. You’re just like me.
His rage died immediately. Self-disgust left a sour taste in his mouth and an ache in his gut, and he found himself yearning for the bottle of antacid that was out of reach on the desk in his office. How could he have let himself go like that? But then, hadn’t he always known that this was the way he would react in times of great stress? Wasn’t this the very thing he’d fought against for most of his life? The very thing he had to continue fighting with every ounce of his strength?
“Why didn’t Quincy’s brother-in-law say anything about this last night, when he was arrested?” Steve asked Jock. “Why plead guilty to all the charges? Why change his story now?”
“Because,” Jock replied, “last night, this morning even, circumstances were different.”
“How were they different?”
There was a brief pause, then Jock said, “Less than an hour ago, he was charged with aiding in the escape of a known felon. I hate to be the one to tell you this, buddy, but Quincy’s broken out of jail.”
Steve drove like a madman. Repeated phone calls to Kate’s house continued to go unanswered. While the rational side of his brain told him that she was probably out running errands, that Quincy wasn’t stupid and would go underground until the heat cooled off, his gut told him that his farmer friend would waste no time coming after him. And that meant he was going to try to get Kate. He’d had an hour head start. To Steve, it seemed a lifetime.
When his car screeched to a halt in front of Kate’s house and he saw the note that had been taped to her front door, Steve knew he was too late. Quincy had Kate.
He didn’t bother to close the car door when he jumped out onto the sidewalk. It took him less than two seconds to reach the porch and grab the note. Hands shaking, he read the words that had been cut and pasted to the page.
As much fun as this game’s been, I’m wearying of playing. Time for a trade, old pal. I give you Kate, and you give me your life. Sound fair to you? If you want to know where to find her, think two words: déjà vu. Come alone and unarmed, buddy. Otherwise, I won’t be able to vouch for her safety.
Déjà vu, Steve thought, the sense that you’ve already experienced something you’re encountering for the first time. His brow furrowed and his panic rose. What the hell did Quincy mean? How would thinking of déjà vu help him find Kate?
It took him the better part of the next thirty minutes before he finally figured it out. Quincy was holding Kate at the old warehouse where he had conducted his illegal drug business. He planned on taking Steve down in the same place that he himself had fallen.
When her fear faded to the point where she could think beyond her immediate survival, Kate called herself all kinds of a fool. After all the precautions, she’d been caught woefully unprepared. Now here she lay, on the floor of a vehicle, hands and feet bound, eyes blindfolded, mouth taped, body covered by a blanket, and she didn’t have a weapon anywhere near her. She’d left the whistle and pepper spray on the bedside table in Steve’s bedroom. The cane Mrs. Edmund had given her reposed on the floor beside her computer. Quincy had her purse. She was totally unarmed.
Except for your brain, Kate, she told herself. Use it. Think of a way out of this mess.
For the first few minutes, she tried to keep her wits about her, tried to figure out where Quincy was taking her. But the vehicle made far too many turns, and she quickly became hopelessly disoriented. They could be in China for all she knew.
Finally, after what seemed hours, they rolled across gravel and came to a halt. After untying her legs, Quincy roughly pulled her to her feet. A hot breeze smelling of diesel fuel and the river lifted her hair from her face. Other than the roar of a jet in the distance and the soft lapping of water, there was no other sound. Kate kicked out blindly at her captor, missed, and sat down hard on her backside.
The next thing she knew, she was hauled to her feet and the barrel of the gun had been shoved into the middle of her back.
“I wouldn’t try that again, if I were you,” Quincy breathed hotly into her ear.
The tape over her mouth muffled her cries of outrage and frustration. She should run, she knew, but where would she go? She couldn’t see, and repeated shaking of her head refused to dislodge the blindfold. With her luck, she’d only tumble into the river. Bound and gagged as she was, she would surely drown. That is, if Quincy didn’t shoot her first.
Once again, her fear took over, nearly paralyzing her. Whatever was going to happen was going to happen here. Wherever “here” was. From the silence, and the general feel of decay and isolation, she knew she couldn’t count on someone witnessing her plight and coming to her rescue.
Using the gun in her back as a prod, Quincy gave her a shove. “Move,” he commanded.
Kate moved.
A minute later the pressure of the gun eased, and she heard a door screech open. Taking her by the arm, Quincy thrust her inside. Kate barely had time to register the blessed coolness before she was pushed forward.
She stumbled and lost her balance. Since her hands were bound behind her back, she had no way to break her fall. Unprotected, her chin slammed into a concrete floor. The impact was blinding. Pain drove through her, and she tasted blood.
Quincy left her no time to nurse her injuries. After dragging her to her feet, he propelled her relentlessly forward. Ignoring her pain, Kate concentrated on not falling again.
They climbed a pair of metal stairs that clanged hollowly in the silence. At the top of the stairs, Quincy shoved her through another doorway. A final shove, and she tumbled onto a bare mattress whose springs squeaked with age.
Winded, she lay quietly, trying to still the pounding of her heart and the ache in her jaw. She heard the Hare of a match, and then silence. A minute later, she felt Quincy
’s fingers fumbling at her ankles as he rebound her legs. By the time she realized what was going on, it was too late to fight back. When she was once more immobilized, he undid the knot of her blindfold.
Candlelight bathed the room in a soft glow. Through the dimness, Kate saw that it was very small. Other than the narrow bed on which she lay, the only other furnishings were a scarred metal desk, some empty bookcases lining the wall and a filing cabinet. A thick layer of dust covered every surface. There were no windows.
The mattress beneath her back smelled mildewy. What she could see of it was stained. Kate decided she was better off not knowing the source of the stains.
Quincy removed the tape from her mouth, and she gingerly moved her jaw to see if it would function. When it did, she opened her mouth to scream.
“Go ahead,” he said calmly, moving to perch on a corner of the desk. “Scream yourself hoarse. There’s no one to hear you.”
She did scream once, out of sheer desperation and a faltering hope that someone might be nearby. The echo of it bounced off the walls and rang in her ears. Silence was her only answer. No one came running.
“I told you so,” Quincy said mildly. “Sorry about the wrist and ankle restraints. But after that little episode outside, something tells me I won’t be able to trust you to remain lying on that bed. Will I?”
Instead of answering, Kate stared at him in mutinous silence.
He laughed. “Still the same old stubborn Kate, I see.”
“Where are we?”
“In an old warehouse. It hasn’t been used in years, but structurally it’s still sound. I thought I’d tell you, just in case you were worried.”
“Is this where you did your drug dealing?”
His smile faded. Though his body blocked the flickering candle and cast a huge shadow over the room, she could still see the light of fanaticism that rekindled in his eyes. “That’s none of your concern.”
“I thought you were in jail.”
“I was, until this morning.”
“I can’t believe they just let you walk away.”
“They didn’t.”
He pushed off the desk and brushed the dust from the back of his pants. A second later, he let loose a string of curses. When his head twisted back to peer over his shoulder, he turned his body at such an angle that she could see he was looking at a rip in the back of his pants.
Kate felt a surge of irritation. There he stood, having kidnapped her and planning to do goodness knows what to her, and he was all upset about a stupid rip in his pants?
“If they didn’t let you walk away, how’d you get out?” she asked.
As she’d intended, the question seemed to distract him from the examination of his pants. “Again, that’s none of your concern. As you can see, I’m here. That’s all that matters.”
Which meant he’d broken out of prison and had managed to get a new pair of clothes and a gun. She didn’t want to think of the resources he possessed that allowed him to accomplish that feat. Or of what those resources might still accomplish.
“You’re my biggest fan, aren’t you?”
He gave a low bow. “At your service.”
“Who’d they arrest last night?”
When he straightened, she saw that his lips were curved mockingly. “My brother-in-law. He did my legwork for me. He’ll do anything for money.”
“Including going to jail for you?”
“Even that. I have some...leverage, shall we say, over him.”
So he was blackmailing his own brother-in-law. “Why are you doing this?”
A look of disappointment crossed his face. “Haven’t you figured it out yet? I thought you were smarter than that, Kate.”
Yes, she’d figured it out. She’d known the truth the minute she’d seen him standing in her den. “You did this to get back at Steve.”
“Good girL” He glanced at his watch. “He should be on his way here any minute. I left a note for him on your front door. It’s a little cryptic, but he’ll figure it out.”
“Why use me as bait?” she asked, trying to buy time, to think of a way out. “Steve and I are divorced, remember?”
“He agreed to act as your bodyguard, didn’t he?”
“That’s because I hired him. It’s what he does for a living. But now that he knows who’s behind all the threats and why, what makes you think he’ll come here to save me? Maybe he’ll send someone else.”
“He’ll come,” Quincy stated confidently, “because he loves you. He’s always loved you. The way you love him. Everyone seemed to know it but you two.”
Kate didn’t want to think about her love for Steve, a love that he deemed hopeless. If she did, despite the danger confronting her, the ache in her heart would surely overtake the throbbing in her jaw. She’d become lost in memories and self-pity. Then what good would she be? She’d certainly never figure a way out of this mess.
“Why?” she asked again. “Why are you doing this. Quincy?”
He began pacing back and forth. “Because of Steve,” he spat, glaring at her, “I lost everything. Everything. My wife. My kids. My job. My freedom. He has to pay for that, Kate.”
“Steve didn’t make you jump into bed with those drug dealers,” she felt compelled to point out. “He didn’t force you to accept their blood money.”
Quincy’s face darkened with fury, and she shrank back against the mattress. “He never should have turned me in,” he shouted. “A cop doesn’t turn on his own.”
How did one fight such crazy logic? It was impossible. To try to reason with someone like Quincy would be a waste of breath. He was incapable of understanding. And he wasn’t about to accept responsibility for his actions at this late date.
“You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?” Quincy would never know what it cost her to utter those words.
“The thought of hearing him beg for mercy is the only thing that’s kept me going these past months. First, though, I want to make him suffer. I want to make him lose everything that is precious to him the way I did. That means you, Kate.”
Which meant he planned to kill her, too. “You’ll never get away with it.”
“Won’t I?” His smile sent a chill up her spine. “I’m out of prison, aren’t I? Don’t worry about me, Kate. Once I kill Steve, I have enough money stashed away to get me out of the country. I’ll do just fine. My only regret is that I have to kill you, too.” He shrugged. “Just think of it as being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
He was insane, she realized. Completely insane. Somewhere, during his time in prison, or maybe even before, he’d gone over the edge. Instead of being afraid for herself, she was terrified for Steve and what awaited him when he arrived. She had to do something to help him.
Quincy stopped his pacing and blew out the candle. “Much as I’m enjoying our little discussion, I have to leave you now. There are a few things I have to do before your ex-hubby arrives. Don’t worry. I’ll be back. In the meantime, why don’t you take a nap? You look a little...stressed.”
When the door closed, the room was plunged into a blackness so complete Kate felt she’d been imprisoned in a cave. The fear that had laid claim to her when Quincy blew out the candle increased a hundredfold at the turning of a key in the lock. She was well and truly trapped.
Taking deep breaths, Kate fought against the panic that threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn’t let her fears take control. She had to keep her wits about her.
Where was the cavalry when you needed them? she wondered in despair, before smiling grimly in the darkness. Here she was, Miss Independence personified, and all she could think about was getting rescued. The truth was, she was going to have to rescue herself. Because if she didn’t, something terrible was going to happen to Steve.
Her first order of business was to untie the rope around her wrists and ankles. Once that was accomplished, she’d think of what to do next.
Kate rolled onto her side and wrinkled her nose at the odor waftin
g up from the dirty mattress. When she tried to touch the knot at her wrists, her fingers wouldn’t reach. No matter how she twisted and strained, the goal remained stubbornly elusive. If anything, her efforts served to tighten the knot.
When she stopped struggling, she could feel perspiration pouring down her face. She was getting nowhere fast, she decided. Since she wasn’t going to be able to untie the rope, or twist her way out of it, she’d have to find another way to loosen it. But how?
The tear in Quincy’s pants, she thought suddenly. Was it possible that something on the desk had caused it, that he hadn’t just discovered it when he stood up to brush off his pants? There was only one way to find out.
She wasted precious seconds struggling to a sitting position, but finally she found herself on the edge of the bed, her feet flat on the floor. She stood carefully and began hopping toward the desk. At least, she hoped she was heading toward the desk. It was impossible to tell in the blackness that surrounded her.
A few seconds later, she collided with something big and square. Turning her back to the desk, she felt her way along the top until she reached the corner. Apparently, a piece of the chrome that had originally covered it had broken away, leaving a sharp, jagged angle. Her fingers traced over it. If she was very, very lucky, it just might do the trick.
How much time did she have before Quincy returned, before Steve walked into the trap Quincy was setting for him? Minutes? Seconds? Quincy had said that Steve would be arriving shortly. Surely that meant that whatever time she had left, it was of the essence.
Frantically Kate began sawing the rope back and forth against the jagged metal. The tender skin of her wrists was quickly rubbed raw. Think of Steve, she told herself to take her mind off the pain. Think of Steve.
Funny, how she could see things with such clarity now that everything might be lost. She was as much to blame for the breakup of her marriage as he was. Before Steve, she’d never wanted to need anyone, had gone out of her way not to need anyone. When she’d discovered how vital he’d been to her, how much she’d actually depended on him, it had scared her silly.
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