Tough as Nails (COBRA Securities Book 10)

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Tough as Nails (COBRA Securities Book 10) Page 21

by Velvet Vaughn


  He did trust her. Completely. But to have her put her life in jeopardy was more than he could handle, especially if he had to watch.

  “Stop right there,” Sal demanded. Hillary stopped. “I know you have a piece. Take it out and toss it away. Do it now. And no sudden movements or,” he aimed at Reed again, “blondie gets it in the head.”

  Good. As long as the gun was off Hillary, he could actually breathe. He took advantage, drawing oxygen into his starved lungs.

  “Turn that damn camera off.”

  Reed watched Tim fiddle with a couple of buttons, one being the light indicating the camera was on. Then he carefully sat it down, keeping it angled on Hobart. It would be good to get this on tape, but if something happened to Hillary, Reed would never be able to watch the news again.

  “What is this, Hobart? I found the money. Finders keepers,” Morrow griped.

  “Shut up or I’ll shoot you right now.” He jerked his chin at Hillary. “Get over here now.” Then he motioned to Frank with the gun. “Get the rest of the bags out.”

  Morrow shot him a dirty look, but he retrieved another bag, tossing it next to the first one.

  Hillary was close now and Hobart grabbed her around the neck, wrapping her ponytail in his fist to anchor her in place. She gripped his arm, the entire time keeping her gaze trained on Reed. Sweat ran down his temple when Hobart dug the gun into the side of her head.

  “Faster, Morrow.” Hobart looked panicked, his eyes darting around the room.

  “I’m going as fast as I can. Damn things are heavy.”

  “How do you think you’re going to get out of here, Hobart?” Reed asked, surprised to find his voice steady when his heart was hammering against his rib cage. “There are two dozen people between you and safety.”

  “Her.” He jerked Hillary’s head back and Reed winced. “No one will stop me when I’ve got a hostage. And what a pretty one, too. I’ve had my eye on her from the first day. Think her and I will have a little fun when we get out of here.” He licked the side of Hillary’s face and Reed’s fists balled in anger. He’d rip the guy’s tongue out for that indiscretion.

  “What makes you think this is yours?” Morrow slapped the last bag on top of the others, seven in total, and stood with his hands on his hips.

  “Because I’m the one who stole it in the first place.”

  Reed glanced at the bags. First Metro Bank. “So, what, you get caught, go to prison, but your sentence is short since they can’t find the money?”

  “Exactly. I paid my time. Now I’m collecting my dues.” He tugged harder on Hillary’s hair, wrenching her neck. Her face showed no sign of distress. Reed took a step forward but she stopped him with a look.

  “You’re the one who kept breaking in, Sal,” Hillary gritted out, obviously wanting to keep him talking. “You’re the one who hit Reed with the shovel.”

  Sal sent a sheepish look in Reed’s direction. “Nothing personal. Big fan.”

  “Why not just take the money then and get out of town?”

  Sal made a noise of frustration. “Because I didn’t know where Calvin hid it. We did the job together but I got caught and sent to the slammer. I made him a deal. I wouldn’t rat him out if he kept the loot safe. Then the bastard had to go and die before he could tell me where he’d stashed it. This was my hard-earned money. I spent five years in the pen for it. Five years.” He glanced at the bags, his eyes goggled. “Get the rest of them, Morrow.”

  Frank held up his hands. “That’s all of them.”

  Sal frantically shook his head. “No, there should be three more.” Then his face darkened with rage and he muttered, “Bastard spent my money. I’d kill him if he wasn’t already dead.”

  “I thought those spider webs on your elbows meant you’d been in prison, but your background check came up clean,” Hillary said, drawing him from his ranting. “I’m guessing Sal Hobart isn’t your real name.”

  “Nah, it’s Rocky Dixon. And I didn’t mean for anyone to get hurt. This was just supposed to be a grab and go. Find the cash and then hop on a plane to Tahiti. I just wanted what was rightfully mine. I didn’t touch the old man. Might’ve scared the shit out of him, but he fell down the stairs on his own.”

  “You mean Mack Arnold?” Hillary asked.

  “How should I know his name. Mean-looking old bastard. I surprised him and he fell. Hell, he scared me, too. Damn near had a heart attack.”

  Too bad he didn’t.

  “And it was Farmington’s fault he got shot. He tried to grab my gun. I wasn’t going to shoot him. I just wanted him to let me in the house.”

  Reed’s heartbeat hammered in his ears. His lungs pumped furiously and red colored his vision. “You killed Neil?”

  “I just told you, it was his fault. He grabbed the gun. We fought for it and it went off. His fault. Not mine.”

  It took every ounce of willpower Reed possessed to stay rooted to the spot. The only thing keeping him from lunging at the bastard was the thought of the gun going off and shooting Hillary. As if sensing his internal battle, she locked eyes with him. The communication was silent but it calmed him.

  “You hired on to work for the company remodeling the house,” Hillary continued. “Is it a coincidence two of their men were in a serious automobile accident right before the job started, opening up positions with the company?”

  Sal/Rocky, whatever his name was chuckled and held his fingers an inch apart. “That one was a little my fault.”

  Reed couldn’t take it every time Sal’s hand tightened on her hair. “Look, man, why don’t you just take the money and leave?” He indicated the bags of cash. “There’s still plenty there. Let her go and we’ll let you walk out the door and drive away. No one needs to get hurt. Or hell, if you need a hostage. Take me.” He ignored Hillary’s furious glare.

  “This is bullshit,” Morrow spat. “Finders keepers. I’m the finder.” He stabbed a finger against his chest. “I say I get to be the keeper.” He whipped out a wicked-looking blade, snapped his wrist and locked it into place. He pointed around the room. “None of you are getting in my way.” He lunged for Sal.

  “Stay back!”

  Everything happened at once. Sal waved the gun at Morrow and it went off, hitting him in the thigh, sending blood spurting out in an arc. Morrow staggered back in shock, the blade dropping from his grip as his hands covered the wound trying to staunch the flow. Reed caught him just before he fell to the floor and eased him down. Hillary used the distraction to grab Sal’s arm while simultaneously jerking her knee up and slamming Sal’s arm on it. A bone cracked and Sal howled in agony as the gun clattered to the floor. Kota rushed to her side, his body rigid and poised for attack.

  “Ow, bitch, you broke my arm. Let me go.”

  Reed wasted no sympathy for the pain he knew first-hand. Hillary swept Sal’s feet out from under him and he landed face down, screaming out when his nose cracked against the floor. In two seconds, she had his hands tied behind his back.

  “My arm, my arm. Cut me loose. My nose,” Sal bellowed as blood gushed. “Can’t breathe.”

  Hillary ignored him and secured his feet. “Kota, guard.”

  Damn, she really was poetry in motion. Once again, she’d just taken down an armed man twice her size, without breaking a sweat. She was incredible. He shook his head and focused on helping Frank. Hillary hurried over to where he and Tim were trying to stop the blood pumping out from Morrow’s leg with every beat of his heart.

  “Was that a gunshot?” Someone called out from below. Feet pounded on the stairs and Sally appeared. “What was th—oh my God.” Her mouth gaped open at the scene. Sal/Rocky was trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, blubbering incoherently. Reed and Tim were covered in Frank’s blood. And millions of dollars in stolen money resided in a heap on the floor.

  “Call 9-1-1,” Hillary ordered. “Tell them to dispatch an ambulance as fast as possible. Ask for them to send Detective Polizzi, too.”

  “And don’t let an
yone else up,” Reed added. Not only was it a crime scene, but millions of dollars in cold, hard cash could make smart, sensible people do incredibly stupid things.

  Sally fumbled her phone but managed to dial the number to request help, while blocking the steps.

  “I need something to tie a tourniquet.”

  Tim quickly unbuckled his belt, pulling it from the loops and handed it to Hillary. She wrapped it above the wound and jerked tight, but Reed could tell it was a losing cause. Morrow’s femoral artery had been hit. Frank took one last shuddering breath—a death rattle—and then it was as if all the life drained out of his body along with the flow of blood, which thinned into a trickle now that his heart ceased to beat. Reed had heard that term before but he’d never experienced it. He wished he hadn’t now. His jeans and a large portion of the floor were covered in red. Hillary sat back on her heels and hung her head.

  “Hey, there was nothing you could do for him,” Tim commiserated. “When the artery is nicked they bleed out in a manner of minutes. Besides, that guy would’ve gutted us like pigs for the money without blinking an eye.”

  Hillary nodded and pushed to her feet. She padded to the bags and opened one. “There must be millions here.”

  “Someone get me some help,” Sal hollered. “I can’t feel my arm and I can’t breathe. I’m going to die.”

  Kota, sitting guard duty, bared his teeth and growled.

  Sal shut up.

  Reed stood and it was all he could do to keep himself from stomping over and planting his boot in Hobart’s kidney. He killed Neil. If he couldn’t kick the shit out of him, he’d settle for the next best thing…scaring it out of him. He walked over until his feet were directly under Hobart’s eyes. Hobart glared at him mutinously, the lower half of his face smeared with blood.

  “You know Sal, or Rocky or whatever the hell your name is, the only thing keeping me from ripping you apart with my bare hands is knowing that you will spend the rest of your life locked away behind bars like the animal you are,” Reed taunted. “You killed Neil and Mack and now Frank. You’ll never see the light of day again. And you’ll certainly never get to spend that money.”

  Sal stared daggers at him.

  “Sweet.”

  Reed turned to see Tim pump a fist in the air as he fiddled with his camera. “I got it all on tape, including his confession to killing Neil and Mack.”

  “That don’t count,” Sal insisted, spitting blood. “I was coerced.”

  “I’m pretty sure you don’t know what that word means.” Hillary shook her head. “You offered that up all on your own.” She called Kota to her side and he trotted over, butting against her legs. She rubbed his head.

  “But I didn’t kill them!” Sal claimed. “They were accidents.”

  “Police are here,” Sally called out. She stepped aside to let them through. Two paramedics raced up the steps first and headed for Frank. “He’s gone,” Hillary said, stopping them.

  “Thank, God. You have to help me. I’ve been battered,” Sal wailed. “Police brutality.”

  Hillary indicated the crying man. “Wait to take him anywhere until Detective Polizzi arrives. He just killed that man in cold blood.”

  Sal glanced from one paramedic to the other. “Wait…aren’t you going to help me? Didn’t you take an oath or something? I’m dying here!” He looked like a demented circus clown with his hair sticking up in odd angles and red-stained teeth.

  The female paramedic turned to Reed, ignoring Sal. “You probably don’t remember me. I tended to you a few weeks ago.”

  “I remember. Lily?”

  “Close. Libby. I’m surprised you remember. You were pretty out of it. Glad to see you walking round.”

  “Thanks, Libby. And thanks for taking care of me that night.”

  Kellan Polizzi appeared at the top of the steps and took in the scene. His hands fisted on his hips. “What the hell happened?”

  “I’ll tell you what happened,” Sal screamed. “Bitch brutalized me, broke my arm and nose and now she won’t let the paramedics take care of me. Police brutality! I’m suing!”

  Kellan ignored him.

  “How about if you see for yourself,” Tim offered, angling his camera so Kellan could watch the screen. Reed’s heart hammered seeing Hobart manhandle Hillary again. Even though his mind knew she was okay, the organ inside his chest hadn’t gotten the message.

  “Damn,” Kellan muttered in awe when Hillary took Sal down. The filming stopped and he glanced at the sheet the paramedics draped over Morrow’s body. “That’s murder, and he confessed to killing Mack Arnold and Neil Farmington, too.” He walked to the bags of money and whistled. “That’s a ton of cash.”

  “Seventeen million at the time of the heist.” Sally held her phone aloft. “I Googled it.”

  “Damn, no wonder he tried so hard to break in the house.”

  “That’s my money,” Sal cried. “I earned it.”

  More crime scene personnel arrived and Kellan finally gave the okay for the paramedics to wheel out Hobart, much to everyone’s relief. His incessant whining was grating. But not before he was read his Miranda rights and arrested on three counts of murder. More charges would be tacked on later.

  Morrow’s body was removed and sent to the morgue. The bags of money had been logged and removed under heavy guard. Tim’s tape had been bagged and tagged for evidence.

  “I’m starting to think this house is cursed,” Kellan muttered.

  Reed nodded his head. “I’m starting to agree.”

  #

  Hillary’s adrenalin was still pumping thickly through her veins. She’d been faced with a life or death situation and she’d remained calm. Even when Sal held the gun to her head, she hadn’t panicked. No flashbacks of Greece. No self-doubt. Her breathing had steadied and she prepared for battle, just as Dante had taught her. All she had to do was wait for the opening and when it happened, she reacted.

  She did feel guilty that Frank Morrow had to die, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he might have taken them all out to get his hands on all that money. The dollar signs had been dancing in his eyes when he pulled out the wicked blade.

  Thanks to Tim’s camerawork, the network had an exclusive and the head honchos were chomping at the bit to release the footage, pending notification of Frank’s family and police okay. Hillary could do without the notoriety, but she was glad for Luke and Logan and the publicity that would result from her working for COBRA Securities.

  “I am so sorry, Ms. Billings.” Tony Tindale walked up to her looking years older. “I feel like it’s my fault. If I hadn’t hired Sal…”

  “It’s not your fault, Mr. Tindale. He stole an identity that passed even our basic background check. If you hadn’t hired him, he would’ve found another way. That much money is a pretty big incentive.” Tony nodded but she could tell he still blamed himself. She turned to see Reed walking towards her. He kept coming until she was in his arms. He exhaled against her hair.

  “God, I was so terrified.”

  “I had it all under control.”

  He leaned back and framed her face with his hands. “I know you did. Still scared me to death.” He pressed his lips to hers and she whimpered, falling against him. She’d been the scared one when the gun was pointed at him.

  His phone jangled and he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers. His thumbs stroked her cheeks. Then he pulled back and answered just as Kellan’s phone buzzed. He listened for a few minutes and then said, “You’re kidding me. How bad? I’m on my way.” He disconnected and looked up, catching her gaze.

  “A car pulled out in front of the ambulance as it was transporting Sal Hobart to the hospital. The driver slammed on the brakes, sending the cop who was riding in the back tumbling. Sal was handcuffed with his good arm but he used his broken one to grab the cop’s Taser and he zapped him. When the female paramedic tried to intervene, he backhanded her, knocking her unconscious. Sal freed himself from the handcuffs and grabbed th
e cop’s gun. Alerted by the movement, the driver stopped and when he opened the doors, Sal shot him and escaped.”

  “Oh, no. Did Sal get away?”

  “The unit following the ambulance pursued but a shoot-out ensued. He was cornered and outnumbered but refused to surrender.”

  “Suicide by cop. What about the paramedics?”

  “The driver was hit in the shoulder and he’s in surgery. The other is awake and conscious with a possible concussion. I’m headed to the hospital now.”

  “Keep me posted.”

  “Will do.”

  Reed hung up his phone and watched as Kellan jogged out the door. “What’s up?” She told him about the accident and shoot-out. “Damn, he got off easy. I wanted him to answer for Neil’s death.” He pulled her into his arms again and she went willingly. He rested his head on hers. “That was Josh Hannigan on the phone. I left a message to let him know what happened so he’d hear it from me before the news. Connie isn’t going to like this.”

  “Connie isn’t going to like what?” Connie asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “There isn’t much Connie has liked so far, so go ahead.” She waved with her hands. “Bring it on.”

  “Josh doesn’t want the house anymore.”

  Connie’s mouth dropped open. “What? He can’t do that! We’re flying his parents out for the big reveal and everything.”

  “He’s reluctant to gift his folks a house that’s been used as the burial ground for a serial killer, not to mention the other deaths. I don’t blame him.”

  “I don’t blame him, either,” Hillary murmured. “This house is evil.”

  “That’s just great,” Connie fretted. She threw up her hands. “I don’t blame him either!” She paced back and forth. “I can always go back to selling real estate. That’s a solid career.”

  “What are you talking about, Connie?” Reed asked gently.

  “Oh, the network will definitely fire me. I mean, come-on, we are so far behind schedule, we’ll never get caught up. Just when I think there’s hope, something happens to delay us more. Nothing has gone right from the beginning, starting with you getting the crap beat out of you.”

 

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