by J. M. Madden
‘No eyes. Too risky. No known shots. Stay in contact.’
He caught his breath, which sounded ragged and loud. So they were okay. For now.
Part of the house’s original butler’s pantry, the kitchen’s arched doorway had once led into the servants’ private hall. But that portion had been busted open by the builders and now opened into the great hall, just near the stairs.
The big staircase should block Ward’s view, but Cage kept his eyes fixed on the doorway. His hand steady on the trigger, he quickly scanned the hall.
Empty.
He quietly opened the door to what remained of the servants’ hall. To his right were Nick’s office, and then the other servant’s bedroom, set up as it used to be more than a century ago.
Cage debated. He needed to stay on the main floor, and in order to get to the eastern side of the house, he would have to either go directly into the front hall with very little area to give him the element of surprise, or take the long way around, going through the closet in the big stairway, which butted directly against the back of the house.
To guests, the wide, mahogany staircase separated the house in half, and the only way to get from one side to the other was through the great hall. From his position in the parlor, Ward no doubt had a clear view of that route.
Cage was one of the few people who knew about the storage closet underneath the massive staircase. Legend claimed Dupont’s wife had hung herself in the closet after one of their children died of scarlet fever. Dani kept trying to talk Jaymee into having a séance, but Jaymee didn’t want to know what ghosts resided in the old house. Cage didn’t blame her.
Cage checked his weapons once more and then edged down the narrow servants’ hallway. Honoring his aunt–who still used servants during her lifetime–Gereau had kept the workers’ side of the house as plain as it would have been years ago. Jaymee had done the same, and she brought guests through the back hall to see the old way of life. All except the old kitchen. Cage knew she lied and said the kitchen was in disrepair.
His heart began to drum as he reached the closet beneath Magnolia House’s massive stairway.
Cage really didn’t want to go inside that stupid closet.
Ward started yelling at his wife again–more hatred dripping from him. “I never should have married you. I thought you’d be better. That you’d learn. But you don’t. You just keep doing stupid shit and making me hurt you. Why can’t you just behave, Kendra?”
She said nothing, her whimpers barely audible.
A violent thump echoed through the space, followed by a guttural moan.
“Enough.” Jaymee’s hateful voice sent a dagger through Cage. He’d hoped to reach her before she reached her breaking point.
“Excuse me?” Ward mimicked her thicker drawl, a mixture of warning and humor in his ugly voice.
“Don’t kick her again.” Jaymee sounded completely unafraid. Years of her father’s cruelty had taught her how to hide her fear.
“What are you going to do about it, little girl?”
“Jaymee, don’t.” Nick sounded desperate. “He’s got the gun.”
“Of course he does,” she snapped. “He’s a coward, just like my father.”
Oh please, don’t say anything else, Jay.
“What did you call me?”
“Stop,” Nick said. “Just put your head down and be quiet. Please.”
“I did that my entire life while my mother got her ass kicked.” Jaymee’s voice rose, her tone shaking the way it did before she did something really impulsive. “I did it when he forced me to get rid of my child. I won’t do it anymore, not for this piece of trash.”
Cage rushed into the pitch-black closet, forgetting his plans to update Gina. He slammed against something slick. Nick’s waders. No time for the flashlight. Ward cussed at Jaymee, his hoarse voice ringing through the house. Cage shuffled through, praying he didn’t trip. Hands outstretched in the dark, his fingers jammed against the opposite wall and searched for the door. He knew the lock was broken, but his push met with resistance.
Jaymee’s voice again, still full of hatred. She wasn’t backing down.
Cage dropped his shoulder and pushed again; the door was jammed at the bottom, old wood swollen and stubborn. He jammed his boot against it and pushed again.
The door popped loudly, and he stumbled into the library.
“What the hell was that?” Ward’s voice was clear now.
Cage flattened himself against the wall and quickly slid to the corner, knowing the connecting archway would give him some element of surprise.
“Probably the ghost coming to beat your ass like you deserve.” Jaymee’s hard voice made Cage wince. “You know my friend Lana said she saw a ghost in this house once. It’s supposed to be the wife of the man who built it. She hung herself because he abused her, and she’s mean. Legend says he even kept her in a cage when she didn’t behave. I locked my best friend in it, and he’s never been the same.”
Cage couldn’t help but smile. She knew he was here.
“That’s a good idea,” Ward said. “Kendra might learn something from that.” A thumping sound, followed by Ward’s snide voice. “Right, honey?”
Cage couldn’t hear Kendra’s response.
“She’s got internal bleeding,” Nick said. “Her arm’s so broken her bone has nearly torn through her flesh. She needs to go to a hospital.”
“What do I care?”
“Murder one has a lot bigger penalty than assault,” Jaymee said. “You need to make a choice because you won’t leave here. The police will stop you. You’re just putting off the inevitable.”
Ward’s bare feet slammed against the hardwood floor. Cage swore the cadence matched the drumming adrenaline in his head. “Then I’ll take care of your mouth before I go.”
Cage moved along the arch wall, head ready to explode. Nick started to yell, but it all happened too fast: Jaymee’s scream, the sick sound of something solid connecting with flesh, and then a loud bang against the wall followed by something shattering.
“Stop!” Nick screamed.
Cage rounded the edge of the arch, looking across the family room with the modern flat-screen television and Nick’s shabby recliner that Jaymee hated. John Ward held Jaymee’s hair with one hand, slamming her head against the wall. Blood streamed from her mouth. His other hand still held the gun, pointed directly at Nick.
Cage tasted cotton and the filth of the earth he’d just crawled through. “John Ward, drop your weapon and back away from the woman.”
Nick was on his knees, reaching for Jaymee. He froze at the sound of Cage’s voice.
Ward released her, but he kept his gun raised, pointing it at Cage. Jaymee swayed on her knees, but Cage saw the smile as her arms reached for a jagged chunk of the porcelain vase that had been shattered.
Before Cage could react, she thrust the broken piece into the soft flesh of Ward’s thigh.
NINE
“You bitch!” He grabbed Jaymee’s hair and yanked her to her feet.
“Let her go.” Cage had the shot, but Ward moved quickly, pulling Jaymee in front of him. The porcelain still protruded from his thigh, blood trickling down his leg.
Ward jammed the gun against Jaymee’s temple. “We’re going upstairs. You don’t follow.”
He twisted around, balancing their weight on his good leg. Jaymee’s eyes bore into Cage’s, bright with fear and anger. She gritted her teeth, clenched her fists.
Cage couldn’t allow Ward to get her upstairs. Too many rooms for him to barricade in. And Jaymee would try to make a run for her own gun. This had to stop now.
“You’re trapped,” Cage said. “This place is surrounded by cops. The sooner you let these people go, the better.”
He fought against the urge to keep talking, to force Ward to think quickly.
Patience. He needed it now more than ever.
Ward hesitated, glancing toward the stairs. Cage saw the apprehension in his eyes. The first
step was still several feet away, Ward’s leg bled, and Jaymee would fight him. Cage might get the shot.
Ward glared at him, as though he knew Cage understood his internal debate. “How’d you find out my name?”
“Shopkeeper remembered you,” Cage said.
Ward grunted. “Knew I shouldn’t have bought that old piece of shit. I did it for her. Everything for her. But she never appreciates it. It’s never good enough!”
Kendra moaned and tried to push herself up off the floor. She tried to speak, but her eyes rolled back in her head, her consciousness waning. Her arm hung at the wrong angle, the bone bulging. Cage suppressed a shudder. “Nick, take Kendra out of here. She needs a doctor.”
Nick moved toward the woman, but Ward’s shout stopped him. “She stays right where she is.” He kept the gun against Jaymee’s temple. His eyes were the color of steel, Cage realized. And completely wild.
“Mr. Ward.” Cage tightened his grip on his Glock. His shoulder protested the sudden movement. “This is going to end badly for you unless you cooperate.”
Ward’s arm tightened around Jaymee’s neck, his pale skin sickly against her tan. She stiffened, still watching Cage. Waiting for him. She didn’t have much more patience than he did, but she’d follow his lead. All he’d have to do was give her a signal, and she’d make her move. He didn’t want the risk, but Ward wasn’t giving him much choice.
“How’d you get inside?” Ward tapped the gun against Jaymee’s temple three times, each time harder than the previous. “I know it wasn’t through the back door.”
“I knew another way,” Cage said.
“Then you’ll tell me.”
Cage shook his head. “No point in trying. More cops waiting for you there too. You need to think seriously about this.”
Ward’s eyes shifted from Cage to Jaymee and then to his wife and Nick, who was kneeling on the floor. The feral look sent chills of fear through Cage. Was the man desperate enough to believe suicide by cop was the only way out? How many lives would he try to take with him?
Ward bit the corner of his mouth until blood oozed out of it. “I just wanted to be left alone.”
“I know,” Cage said. “Things got out of hand. It happens, man.” He could be Ward’s friend for as long as he needed to be. Anything to get the man to stand down.
“It’s her fault.” Ward glared at his wife again. “She pushes me.”
“They do that.” Cage seized the opening. “Every woman I’ve ever known. It’s in their genes.”
“Damn right.” Ward dug the gun deeper into Jaymee’s skull. She bared her teeth. “And this bitch, she wouldn’t stay out of my business.”
Cage forced a laugh. “Believe me, I know. I grew up with her. She’s the pushiest broad I’ve ever met.”
Jaymee snapped her mouth shut, eyes fierce. She kept them on Cage.
“Christ,” Ward said. “I almost feel sorry for you.”
“You should.” Cage hoped he sounded sincere. “One time, we were probably about twelve years old. She decides she’s going to start standing up for herself. Wants to learn some basic self-defense moves, toughen up. I played football, so she figured I could teach her something.” Cage didn’t look at Jaymee. She’d remember and know what to do.
“So we’re in my backyard, right? My dad’s drinking and egging us on, my mom and my sister are all worried Jaymee’s going to get hurt. I didn’t want to do it.” Cage made a show of rolling his eyes. “But she’s not backing down. As usual.”
Ward grunted.
“So I come at her, and I get her in a headlock in about two seconds. She’s all pissed off and running her mouth. I’m laughing, because come on. She was short and skinny, and I’d grown about a foot that year. Then she went real low.” Cage’s eyes burned with the urge to glance at his friend, to make sure she was ready. But he felt the anticipation rolling off her.
“What’d she do?” Ward’s breathing had eased up, his shoulders had inched down.
Cage spoke softly. “Jay, what did you do?”
Jaymee’s right foot shot up and connected hard with Ward’s right shin. He gasped, the gun fell away from her head, his grip around her neck loosened. Jaymee sunk her teeth into Ward’s left arm at the same time she jammed her elbows against his chest and her foot into his crotch. He released her and staggered back. She dropped to the floor and crawled away.
“Put the gun down.”
Doubled over in pain, Ward still gripped the pistol. Cage saw the arm shiver, and then the gun started to raise.
Adrenaline hammered the inside of his head, making his brain feeling like it had been through a blender. His body felt damp and drained, his hands ached. Pressure rushed through his ears.
Ward brought the gun to his own chin.
Cage took the shot.
TEN
The bullet tore through Ward’s right shoulder, the gun clattering to the hardwood floor. Cage rushed forward and kicked it out of reach as Ward landed on his back with a sickening thud that echoed through the house.
Cage snatched the cuffs out of his back pocket and quickly secured Ward.
“You shot me.” He rolled on the floor, blood pooling. “I’ll sue.”
“You were going to shoot yourself.” Cage found his phone and tossed it to Jaymee, who’d crawled over to empty Ward’s gun. Her knees buckled, and Nick wrapped his arms around her to hold her steady. Cage remembered the way Ward had slammed her head against the wall. “Don’t try to walk down to the end of the drive. Call Gina. Tell her the suspect is secure, and we need two ambulances.”
Jaymee allowed Nick to pull her to her feet. She put her head against his chest, breathing hard. Cage waited, knowing she needed to say her piece.
She stared at Ward for several long seconds. “Get some towels down as soon as you can. That blood’s going to be a bitch to clean off the floor.” She kissed Nick’s cheek. “I’ll call Gina. You help with Kendra.”
He nodded, something unspoken passing between them. Then Jaymee yanked back the deadbolt on the front door and disappeared onto the porch. Night air rushed into the house, cool and cleansing.
“Can you check on Kendra?” Cage glanced at the woman still laying face down on the floor. She’d stopped moving.
Nick dropped to his knees beside her. “She’s in bad shape. I’m sure she’s got a head injury. She’s been in and out of consciousness the last hour. And her ribs are broken.”
“This is your fault, Kendra.” Ward sounded like the wounded monster he was. “I brought you here because you wanted it. And look what you did, you stupid whore. Look at me now!”
Cage ignored him, breathing in the fresh air. He felt as though he’d been buried for a very long time and had finally found his way to the surface.
“How did you get in?” Nick asked.
Cage smiled. “The tunnel that runs from the old jail. Dupont used it to move slaves. It opens into the cellar.”
Nick sat back on his heels, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “That’s why Jaymee said that about the cellar. I thought she’d lost her mind.”
“Well,” Cage nodded at the paramedics as they hurried into the wide front hall, followed by Gina. “That’s always debatable.”
Cage let Gina go to Roselea General with John Ward, where he would be stabilized before being introduced to his jail cell. She didn’t take the time to congratulate Cage on the rescue, but her single nod in his direction said enough.
Kendra Ward’s injuries were much more serious. Her arm required surgery, and the EMT confirmed she had internal bleeding. She would be life-flighted to Jackson.
Jaymee had a mild concussion but refused to be hospitalized. She had other concerns.
It was past midnight by the time Cage and Dani arrived at the vet with their sleeping infant. He hadn’t bothered to take a shower, much less have his shoulder looked at. He’d just raced home and told Dani to get the baby, and they were going to Natchez. Jaymee and Nick were already on their way.
> Natchez Pet Hospital had two surgery tables in a secluded back room, and Mutt lay on the largest one. All of the lights except one had been turned off, casting the room in a gloomy shadow. The stainless steel looked miserably cold, the various IVs painful. The monitor with the dog’s heartbeat had been shut off.
Jaymee sat in an old chair, her face against Mutt’s wide head. A single overhead lamp provided enough light for Cage to see the tears on her face.
Nick stood on the other side of the operating table. He nodded at Cage as he and Dani entered the back room. Emma slept in her infant carrier, peaceful drool running down her chin.
“I thought you might have gone to the hospital and gotten stitched up,” Nick said.
“No way.” Cage reached for Mutt, running his hand over his coarse, multicolored fur. He’d always thought Mutt was part blue heeler. And many parts something else. “I wanted to see him first.”
Mutt’s eyes slowly opened. Mismatched, one bright blue and the other a murky brown, they suited him. He blinked, clearly still drowsy from the anesthesia.
“Hey ugly Mutt,” Cage said. “How you doing?”
The dog wagged its tail. Jaymee started to cry again.
“He’s going to make it, thanks to you.” Nick looked choked up as well. “The bullet lodged in his hip bone. Probably saved his life. He’ll always limp, but we don’t care.”
“Thank God.” Dani leaned her head against Cage’s chest. She’d refused to allow him to pick up the infant carrier, saying he needed to have his shoulder checked first. “Life wouldn’t be the same without Mutt.”
She sat Emma’s carrier down and went to kneel beside Jaymee. “You sure you’re okay? I know your head is hard as hell, but a concussion is no joke.”
Jaymee finally raised her head, wiping her eyes. “Mild concussion. I’ve had worse. And don’t worry, I’m staying up with Mutt.”
Dani took her hand and then reached for Nick’s. “I’m so glad you guys are all right. I don’t know what we would have done if …”
“Thanks to Cage,” Nick said. “He saved us. I don’t think Ward would have waited until the hostage team got there.”
