A friendly smile spread over Sam’s face as he leaned against the doorframe, his thumbs in his pocket “Hey, Hank, it’s been a while.”
“Cut the crap, Sam. What do you want?”
His smile turned to a sneer as Sam stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Like, I said in the note, Garrett owes my boss a great deal of money.” He motioned. “May I sit down?”
He squared his jaw. “No.”
Sam chuckled and began absently stroking his goatee. “Always the big man on campus, huh Hank?” His eyes went hard. “Garrett left a debt, and now that debt has fallen to you.” He pulled his pants up higher on his waist. “Nothing personal, man, just business. You understand how this works.” He began grinding his fist into his hand. “Don’t make me do this the hard way.”
A hard amusement glittered in Hank’s eyes. Is this where he was supposed to throw up his hands and beg for mercy? Wasn’t going to happen! “How much does he owe?” A lifetime of memories flooded him as he stood there eyeing this snake of a man—there was the Sam from his youth—the man he’d naively trusted—the man that had started him on his life of crime—the man that had betrayed him with V while he was incarcerated—the man that drove Garrett to fake his death.
“$350K.”
Hank laughed out loud. “Right! Even Garrett’s not stupid enough to run up that high of a debt. How much is it really?”
Sam’s face fell a notch. “$350K. Honest.”
“And I’m just supposed to take your word for it?” He shook his head in disgust. “You’re a lousy liar.”
“We’re friends, man, remember the good old days?” His voice became as smooth as butter.
“Let’s get one thing straight. You and I might be a lot of things, but one thing we’re not is friends!”
“Okay, it’s like this—Garrett owes $200K. I swear it on my life, that’s the amount.”
“And why is this my problem?”
“He was your brother.”
“Yeah, well, my brother was an imbecile to ever get involved with you.” He clenched his fists. “Let me tell you how this is gonna go—you’re going to walk out that door and never come back, and if you’re lucky, I just might let you live to see the light of day.”
Sam shook his head, his eyes taking on the cold flat look of the predator he was. “I just don’t see that happening.”
Hank’s senses went on full alert, and he could tell the situation was approaching the critical point. Before Sam could make the first move, he pulled the pistol and pointed it at his chest. “What part of this do you not understand?”
Sam held up his hands. “Easy, man.”
“I said GET OUT!”
“All right. I’ll go, but first, there’s something you need to see.”
Warning bells went off in his head. Something was wrong here. Something was very wrong. He was the one holding the gun. Then why was Sam looking so confident? When Sam reached into his pocket, he jerked back the slide on the top of the barrel to load a bullet into the chamber.
“Whoa, man. Easy! I’m just getting my phone out of my pocket. See.” His voice was deadly calm, sending chills running down Hank’s spine. He held up his phone. “I just want to show you a video.”
It took Hank a second to process what he was seeing, and then the breath left his lungs. He staggered. It was Chloe, and she was in a room—tied to a chair and gagged. Her cheeks were wet with tears, and the sheer look of terror on her face turned his stomach. “I’ll kill you for this!” His instincts took over, and he stepped forward in panther-like movements and pressed the gun to Sam’s temple. “Where is she?” he yelled, a hot rage blanketing him, clouding out all reason. He wanted to rip out Sam’s throat.
“If you kill me, she dies.”
Hank’s eyes went wild as he considered the options.
“Listen to me. There’s only one way out of this. You’ve got to do a job.”
“A job? Have you lost your mind? I’ve told you—that part of my life is over.”
“If you want the girl to live, you’ll do the job. If my guy Bill doesn’t hear from me in the next five minutes, then he’ll kill her.” Sam had a satisfied smirk on his face. “Your decision.”
A minute later, Hank lowered the gun. “What do you want me to do?”
The blow seemed to come out of nowhere as Sam punched him in the face, knocking him to the floor, sending the pistol flying out of his hand. “Don’t you ever point a gun at me again!” Before Hank could rise to his feet, Sam kicked him viciously in the stomach, knocking him back to the floor. “And in case you have any thoughts about starting things up again with V, this is your one and only warning—STAY AWAY FROM HER!”
* * *
Darbie was chewing on her fingernails and pacing back and forth across the living room floor, trying to decide what she should do about Chloe. She’d not had any contact with her since that phone call where they’d had a bad connection. Chloe was supposed to have gotten home the previous night, and Darbie had not heard a word from her. She’d called her repeatedly, but it kept going to voicemail. She glanced at Beasty, who was sitting on the sofa, watching her intently. It was crazy, but she kept getting the feeling that he was trying to tell her something. “What is it, boy?” He let out a loud meow. She frowned. “I miss her too.”
Her anxiety rose to new heights when she’d gotten the call from Naomi, Chloe’s mom. She’d not heard from Chloe either and was starting to get concerned.
“How well do you know her boss?” Naomi had asked.
The question burned through her like acid, and a part of her was tempted to blurt out all she knew. But it would only add to Naomi’s stress. There was nothing the poor woman could do at this point, seeing as how she was on the other side of the country. Think, Darbie! Think! Not knowing what else to do, she got down on her knees and said a prayer on Chloe’s behalf. She’d hoped that would help her feel better, but it did just the opposite. A cold feeling of dread came over her, and she had the strong feeling that Chloe was in danger. Her heart began to pound as she tried Chloe’s phone once more. When it went to voicemail, she knew what she needed to do. She punched in 911.
“Hello … I’d like to report a missing person …”
* * *
Hank jabbed the doorbell and waited. When no one answered, he pushed it again. Finally, after the fourth time, the door opened. A glower came over Lila’s face as she straightened to her full height and pulled her sweater tighter around her ample stomach. “What’re you doing here?”
“Hi, Lila. It’s been a long time.”
“Not long enough.” She lifted her chin.
“I need to talk to Pete.”
“You’re not welcome here.” Her eyes went hard. “You’ve done enough damage to my family to last a lifetime.” She tried to slam the door in his face, but he wedged his foot in. “If you don’t leave this instant, I’ll call the police!” she cried.
“It’s about Chloe. She’s in trouble.”
She reopened the door. “What have you done?”
“Sam Lowden has her.” His voice caught. “He’ll kill her if I don’t do a job for him.”
Lila’s face crumbled into itself like a cake too dense to hold its weight. Her lower lip began to quiver. “I warned her to stay away from you,” she said hoarsely. “I told her she was in danger.” A feral look settled into her eyes, and she seemed to have forgotten that Hank was standing there. “I saw it,” she gasped. “The cold fingers of death were gripping the life out of her.” She stared through him. “It was horrible.”
Dread pricked over him, but he pushed it aside. He couldn’t let himself get caught up in Lila’s madness. He had to stay focused. That was Chloe’s only hope. He touched her arm. “Lila! Please. There’s no time. I have to talk to Pete.”
This seemed to jerk her back to reality. Tears simmered in her eyes. “This is all because of you!”
“I know,” he said flatly. “You’re right. It is because of me, and now I hav
e to fix it.”
“Like you fixed things with Guy?” She bit her lower lip. “You promised me that you would look after him. I trusted you. I told Pete that you were a good guy and that you would look after Guy. And now he’s dead!”
“I can’t change the past,” he said quietly. Would the hurt ever end? “All I can say is that I’m sorry.” He gave her a probing look. “There’s still time to save Chloe. Please.”
She nodded and stepped back so he could enter. “Pete’s in the study.” She motioned with her head. “You know the way.”
Pete was sitting behind his desk, intently inspecting a diamond through a loupe. He jumped when Hank knocked. Hank could tell from the way Pete cleared his throat and pushed his glasses up on his nose that his presence had jolted him. Always the consummate professional, Pete stood and extended his hand.
“It’s been a long time. It’s good to see you.” There was a note of sincerity in his voice.
“It’s good to see you too,” Hank said, and he meant it. Pete was one of the few people that he actually missed having an association with. Despite his dealings in the underground world of theft, Pete was one of those rare people who still believed that his word was his bond. “May I sit down?”
“Of course.”
Pete returned to his seat. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
He skipped the preliminaries and got down to business. “Sam Lowden has Chloe. He wants me to do a job. Otherwise, he’ll kill her.”
Pete made a steeple with his fingers and brought them to his chin. “I see.” He looked thoughtful. “What kind of job?”
“This coming Saturday and Sunday, jewelry house, Finckle & Co., is hosting a private gala at the St. Regis Hotel in Deer Valley. There will be an exhibition of rare jewelry, including a pink diamond that’s rumored to rival The Rose of Dubai.”
“The Rose of Dubai, huh? Do you believe that?”
He spread his hands. “At this point, what I believe or don’t believe doesn’t matter. All I care about is saving Chloe. Sam obviously believes it, or he wouldn’t have gone to such great lengths to try and get me to do the job.”
“Surely, you’re not thinking of doing a heist there … with that level of security—in a high-profile area—I’m not sure that even you could pull that off.”
“No, thankfully, it’s not there. On Friday evening, Gerald Gunther is hosting a pre-gala reception in his home where he’ll be showing a preview of the jewels, including the pink diamond. Gunther is storing the jewels in his safe that night, until an armored truck picks them up and takes them to the hotel the following morning.”
“You’re talking about the Gerald Gunther, the venture capitalist and real estate tycoon turned philanthropist? That Gerald Gunther.”
“Uh, huh. The very one.”
Pete leaned forward, and Hank could tell he’d captured his interest. “Tell me more about it.”
“How familiar are you with Gunther’s estate?”
“I know it’s located in Holladay.” He rubbed his chin. “Let’s see—if my memory serves me correctly, the mansion is around 26,000 square feet and located on about ten acres.”
A wry grin formed on Hank’s lips. He suspected that he wasn’t telling Pete anything he didn’t already know. Pete was not only one of the sharpest guys he knew but also the most well connected. His success as a fence hinged on his ability to keep his ear to the ground, scouting out the best tips. “So you know the place?”
“Yeah … a little.” He switched gears. “So, how are you going to do it? The security in that place is almost as tight as St. Regis Hotel, and Gunther has a state-of-the-art safe, which is why he feels comfortable holding something of that value until the following morning. I would suspect that he’s also hiring a security team to protect the jewels.”
“Yes, a team of six—two to patrol the grounds, two roaming the floors, and two guarding the safe.”
Pete looked impressed. “You’ve done your homework.”
Hank scowled. “No, this is all according to Sam, which is why I need your help. I don’t trust him.” Pete detested Sam almost as much as he did.
Pete looked Hank in the eye. “Are you sure you want to open up this door? You’ve fought so hard to close it. You own a reputable business … put this all behind you.”
A fierce look came into his eyes. “Sam has the woman I love.”
“You could always call the police.”
Hank let out a harsh laugh. “She’d be dead five minutes after I placed the call. You know how Sam operates. This is the only option.”
Pete began drumming his fingers on the desk. “Okay, I’ll help. What do you need?”
“Blue prints of the mansion, and I need to know what type of security system they’re using … the company that installed it. Also, a rundown of the safe would be nice.”
“A Mesa 382 OE … or so I’ve heard.”
Hank thought for a minute. “Okay, I can handle that.”
“How are you going to get into the mansion?”
“That’s the beauty of it—I don’t have to. Sam is getting me in through the catering group. I’ll go down to the basement and hide there until the party is over. I’ll come out in the dead of night and make my way to the safe.”
“What about the security guards?”
“A tranq gun.”
“The cameras?”
“I’ll need help with that—someone who can hack into the security network and be my eyes and ears. Once we learn where the fiber optic cables are installed, we can gain access to the system from there. The person won’t even need to go into the mansion.” He looked at Pete. “What do you hear from Asa Wang these days?”
Half Chinese, half Hawaiian and about his same age, Asa was a computer whiz and expert at creating unique gadgets that could help Hank navigate around almost any obstacle a job presented. In the old days, Asa was practically his right-hand man. Had he gone with this gut instinct and used Asa on the jewelry store heist, Guy wouldn’t have gotten killed. Brooding on the past wasn’t going to help the present. He pushed his thoughts back to Asa. They had known each other since high school and grew up in the same neighborhood. Several times, he’d been tempted to look him up to see how he was doing, but he wanted to put as much distance between himself and his past as possible.
“Oh, he’s still around … working his magic.”
“Can you put me in touch with him?”
“Yep, that shouldn’t be a problem. Asa’s always looking to make an extra buck. From what I hear, Asa was in pretty tight with Garrett. Helped him out on several occasions.” He paused. “I just assumed that Sam would’ve set you up with a team.”
Hank’s jaw tightened. “Oh, he tried, but that was my one condition—I do this thing my way, with people I can trust.”
Pete was impressed. “Spoken like a man who truly knows Sam. That’s why you’re the best—you don’t leave things to chance.” He gave Hank a speculative look. “How’s your brother doing?”
Hank’s eyes widened. “You haven’t heard?”
Pete peered at him over his glasses. “Which version? The version where Garrett was killed, or the version where he’s still alive?”
Hank let out a half laugh. “You know. I figured as much.”
He spread his hands. “Well, I didn’t know for sure … until now.”
“Do you know where he is?” The very air seemed to be holding its breath as Hank waited for an answer.
Pete began rubbing his hand back and forth over his chin. “I don’t.”
Disappointment pelted over him.
“But I’m sure Asa does. From what I heard, Garrett owed a truckload of money to Sam and couldn’t repay it. Faking a death and disappearing isn’t cheap, if you get my drift. I’m sure Garrett’s trying to find a way to rake together some fast cash … and that most assuredly involves Asa. Garrett doesn’t have your skills. Had he not had Asa backing him up, he never would’ve been able to pull a tenth of those robberies I suspect
he’s responsible for.”
The wheels began to turn as a new light came into Hank’s eyes. “I need you to get in touch with Garrett. Tell him that Chloe’s been kidnapped and that I need him to find out where she’s being held. I need him to rescue her while I’m doing the job. Sam will be so focused on the heist and keeping tabs on me that he won’t see Garrett coming.” He clenched his jaw. “I can’t count on Sam to do the honorable thing and let her go. I have to prepare for every contingency.”
Pete looked thoughtful. “You know, that just might work. I like the way you think.” His eyes met his. “I know you’re being forced into this, but I have to tell you—it sure is good to have you back.”
Hank acknowledged the compliment with a nod.
The corner of Pete’s lips turned down in a frown. “You know, Sam’s not gonna let you walk away, don’t you? He never had any use for Garrett. Garrett was simply a means to an end. It was always you he was after. You’re the genius. A man with your skills is worth his weight in gold—” he chuckled “—or diamonds. I suspect that Sam orchestrated this whole thing, just to get you stealing for him again.”
A dark look came into Hank’s eyes. “Like I said—I have to prepare for every contingency.”
27
Chapter 27
Chloe’s head was pounding and her throat was so parched she could hardly swallow. Every inch of her body felt like it had been pounded with a sledgehammer, and the rope was cutting into her swollen wrists. It took a superhuman effort to lift her head, and she groaned in the process. She was so hungry her stomach was cramping. This was followed by bouts of nausea. She was drifting in and out of consciousness, losing track of time. Had it been two or three days … she couldn’t remember. The room was dark, and there was a hollow feel to it like it was in some type of warehouse. She’d barely been given enough water to survive and a single slice of bread, which she devoured in a handful of bites. It did little to assuage her hunger.
At first, she’d been so worried that the man was going to kill her that she could hardly think of anything else. After all, he wasn’t trying to hide his face from her. She could identify him. She was still worried that she would die, but the immediate needs of her body were starting to consume her thoughts. Then she started to drift …
When Darkness Falls Page 28
