“I’m going in,” Dane said. “The files are my leverage.”
“Stall! Give me time!” Sullivan was shouting. Marnie was almost to the door, Dane close on her heels. He grabbed her arm.
Marnie didn’t pull away, only shook her head and waited to hear what he had to say. “I’m going in, Sullivan. When I have Elizabeth, you’ll see it on the screen.” They’d search him for wires, find the comm, and know he’d brought cops to the exchange. He couldn’t risk that. He understood the danger going it alone posed, but this was his daughter. What wouldn’t he risk? Dane discreetly dropped the earwig on the ground. “Go back to the van, Marnie.”
Marnie stepped on the device and ground her foot on it. “Too late for that.” She took a steadying breath as guards approached, familiar guards, and they had assault rifles aimed and at the ready. “How to make friends and influence people.” One guard grabbed Dane’s shoulder, and against every instinct, he allowed the man to hustle him into the building. She was in this now, and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Marnie,” Dane said. “Let me do the talking.”
Hands raised, she gave the security guards the evil eye as they shoved her inside the building. “Hey, fine, fine, I’m here, no need to get all riled,” she said. Two guards gripped her by the upper arms, forcing her to walk on her toes. Five guards total had greeted them, and three were aiming assault rifles. They pushed her into Dane’s back.
“Are you okay?” Dane pulled her to his side, shielding her with his body.
“Assholes,” she said. When they reached for her, Marnie leaned away from Dane, hands clawed in front of her. “Just try it, you fucking baboon.” They hesitated long enough to rethink their decision.
“Stop,” Dane hissed. The last thing he needed was to instigate a fight, yet Marnie was putting on a show. This wasn’t like her. What was she thinking?
One guard’s portable radio beeped on his shoulder. He pressed the receiver. “Bring them upstairs.” It was Whitman’s voice.
“You heard the boss,” Marnie said. “Time is money.” She stepped onto the elevator without being asked. Dane followed, trying to keep his body between her and the irritated guards. They crowded in, and the handguns came out as the assault rifles lowered.
When they filed out of the elevator, Whitman stepped from his glass-fronted office like a peacock with its plumage unfurled. “Did you pat them down?”
“Daddy!” Elizabeth was tied to a chair next to Whitman’s desk. She was scared, shaking.
“Elizabeth, honey, it will be all right!” In Whitman’s damn office? Why the hell didn’t Sullivan’s video feed pick it up? He saw the problem immediately. There was electrical tape over the security cameras. He searched for the other security camera in the hall and saw more electrical tape.
“Hi, Elizabeth! Don’t worry. This will be over soon.” Marnie lifted her arms, welcoming a pat down. “Who’s the lucky guy that gets to pat me down?” She smiled at the guard that stepped forward. When he stood no more than a foot in front of her, he grabbed her breasts.
Dane punched him in the face. Marnie jumped back, grabbing the guard to help right him. Two guards threw Dane to his knees and aimed their assault rifles at him.
“Whoa, whoa,” Marnie said. “Maybe I should just give you what I have.” She handed over two phones, some cash, and keys. A guard put them in his pockets and patted her down anyway. He came back with two knives from a waist sheath, a knife she’d hidden in her boot, and a gun she’d lifted from the guard that was bleeding from his nose. When the wounded guard gave her an irritated look, she shrugged. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”
Dane wasn’t patted down so gently. He received an elbow to the jaw as they emptied his pockets. He grabbed where it hurt and spoke through his hand. “I don’t have any weapons.”
“He’s clean,” a guard said. “The hard drive was in his jacket.” He handed over the device to Whitman.
“Excellent,” Whitman said. “Let’s make sure it’s the real thing and that it’s the original.”
“There are no copies,” Dane said, “and the files were never opened, as you demanded.” It was true. He’d been afraid a cyberexpert would be able to tell the difference, so he complied with that demand. It made it harder to get the warrant, but Dane wasn’t willing to risk Elizabeth for anything, and giving the evidence to the cops…well, he was positive they wouldn’t comply.
One of the guards plugged the hard drive into Whitman’s computer and pulled up the directory. Two other guards dragged Dane across the room, keeping him on his knees. They zip-tied his hands behind his back. When done, one stepped away, but the other pulled a gun and pressed it to his head. Dane saw Elizabeth’s horror. Mouth agape, she was rendered mute. His poor baby.
“Ah, what do we have here?” Whitman chuckled and pointed to a file listed on the screen. “Open this one.”
Marnie stepped forward, easily garnering the room’s attention. “The kid is in the room.”
Dane wasn’t sure what Whitman wanted opened, but if it had Marnie looking upset, he suspected it must be the video. He tried to prepare himself as Marnie hurried to Elizabeth’s side. He was grateful she was able to. Then she untied his daughter’s hands, all the while fighting off the hesitant guards, unsure if they were supposed to stop her. It was a pleasure to watch her bloody a few noses and still get her way. Though guns were drawn, she ignored them and tugged Elizabeth to the door.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Whitman seemed amused by the abuse she leveled on his guards.
“Elizabeth needs to go.” Marnie pointed to one guard. “You. Take her to another room.”
Whitman nodded to the guard. “Might as well.” He turned his back on them, concentrating on the file list. “Once we verify these files are legit and haven’t been copied, we can all get on with our days. I, for one, have an appointment at the Derryfield Country Club and a new putter to try out.”
Dane kept his eyes on Marnie long enough to see her slip a stolen knife to his daughter before hustling her out of the room. Just how bad was this file that Marnie chose Elizabeth with a knife against an armed guard rather than her seeing it? It had to be the video.
When Elizabeth was gone, the bloody-nosed guard forced Marnie to kneel next to him, zip-tying her hands at her front. Then the video played, and Dane wasn’t thinking about the cops outside, the gun to his head, or his daughter in the other room with a guard and a knife—all he saw was Alice on the monitor, standing on a chair with a noose around her neck. His late wife appeared exhausted and angry.
“Enough, Joe,” Alice said. “Let me down.”
“I don’t think so.” On the screen, Joe looked off camera. “This was your idea. We need to play it out.”
“No one will know if I’m made to stand here for hours. We can just say I did.”
“Across town, your daughter is screaming, Alice.” Joe was angry.
Alice’s face clouded with guilt. “It’s for a good cause. It will be over soon, and then we’ll run away. The money we’ll get from Dane is freedom, Joe. You, me, Elizabeth, we’ll start over.”
Joe shook his head. “You always were delusional. I’m married, Alice.”
“If this won’t work, why are we here? Why did you jump at the chance to arrange it?” She held up her tied hands, confused.
“Things are going on that you don’t know. Be patient. This will be over soon, and then things can go back to the way they were. We’ll all be safe again.”
“Safe? What do you think Dane will do if he finds out you’re screwing his wife? None of us will be safe ever again. Elizabeth and I have to disappear. It’s the only way this will work. He’ll think—” Alice extended her hands to him. “Listen, Joe. Untie me. We can go now. We don’t have to wait. He’ll drop off the money and we can get Elizabeth and go.”
“Taking Elizabeth—it will kill him.”
“I’m tired of putting him first. I want a life, too. With you, Joe.”
Joe approached Alice, and from her expression, Dane could tell she was relieved. She extended her hands, offering them for Joe to untie. Instead, Joe kicked the chair out from under her. “He deserves better than you.”
For the next minute, the room watched her die, slowly. Kicking and choking, clawing at the rope around her neck. Joe stood by, at first unmoving, and then pacing, as if deciding whether to save her or not. Everyone watching knew how it played out, but the video continued. Alice continued to suffer, continued to die. Joe didn’t intercede. It felt as if Dane, as if everyone watching were keeping vigil with Joe as he waited for Alice to die, as if they too were complicit. It was intolerable, unconscionable.
Dane was numb, and then he wasn’t, and it felt as if someone had opened a vein and his life was bleeding onto the carpet. He shook, feeling betrayed on every level. Joe, Alice, both were supposed to love him. Dane thought he hadn’t moved a muscle, but he must have revealed the violence he barely kept in check, because guards converged on him, as if they expected him to go berserk. In the commotion, Marnie was shoved to the side, knocked into a guard. She shouted up a storm. Guards pounded on Dane from all angles, making it difficult to deflect their kicks and blows with his wrists tied behind his back.
A gun discharged. All eyes were on Whitman. His gun, aimed at the ceiling, had shot a hole in the drywall above. Plaster dust settled on his dark blue suit jacket. Then he aimed the gun at Dane.
“Hey, hey! Wait a minute! Get my phones,” Marnie said. “It’s your turn for a show.”
“Phone?” Whitman looked as if he were calculating if Marnie was wasting his time.
Dane hurt, but he was able to struggle back onto his knees. His wrists bled from his failed attempts to break the zip ties, and with the guns pointed at him, he didn’t see a path out of this room alive.
“Your wife’s phone.” Marnie moved toward Dane on her knees, until she knocked into his side and then scurried behind him. It looked as if she were using him as a shield, and no one, least of all Dane, was complaining. When he felt the blade move against the zip tie binding him, nicking his skin, a wave of relief hit him. Marnie had been busy. While he and Whitman’s guards were going at it, she’d secured a knife in the confusion. A glance at the nearest guard showed his sheath empty. “You kill us and your family’s dead,” she said. There was no hesitancy in her tone. There was no one listening that didn’t believe her. He could see it in everyone’s expression, but only Whitman had skin in this game. Everyone else waited for orders.
Whitman waved a guard over. “Give me the phone she came with.” The guard complied and handed the two over. Whitman recognized his wife’s phone and picked it up. “Where did you get this?”
“Does it matter? I wiped the passcode. You can access the pictures simply by turning the phone on.” Marnie sawed with the knife once more, and the zip tie binding Dane’s wrists split in two. She pressed the knife into his hands. Now his hands were free and he was armed. He slipped the zip tie and the knife into his waistband, under his shirt, afraid either would be spotted by a guard. “Look at the photos,” Marnie said. “Turn the phone on.” She moved to Dane’s left, kneeling beside him. If she was afraid, she hid it well.
Whitman opened the app, and his jaw dropped. He threw the phone at her. Marnie ducked in time. Dane had assumed she’d come with a plan. It was what he was afraid of. But now it was in play, and he had to trust her and allow it to play out. If he rushed Whitman with only a knife against all those guns, odds were Elizabeth would be orphaned tonight.
“When were these taken?” Whitman waited, like a businessman looking for a counter offer.
“An hour ago. The person who took those photos is there now, watching them sleep, waiting to see how this night shakes out,” Marnie said. “Release us. This can end now.”
Dane heard activity in the hall, saw police officers rushing from the stairwell and elevator. Whitman didn’t believe it at first. Dane could see it on his face and posture. His guards scattered.
Enraged, Whitman shot at the fleeing guards, but his aim was poor and they were wearing Kevlar. He turned to easier targets, aiming the gun at Marnie, murder in his eye. Dane dived on top of her, knocking her to the floor as he covered her with his body. Shots were fired. Dane retrieved the knife from his waistband and threw it, planting it deep in Whitman’s shoulder, buying Dane time to push off Marnie and tackle Whitman. They wrestled for the gun. It went off as he ripped it from Whitman’s hand, shattering the glass wall. Marnie screamed.
Dane glanced back, needing her safe. She’d rolled clear of the falling glass, swung her legs out, and took down the last remaining guard with an ax kick. He saw her steal his gun as the man struggled to his feet, running from the approaching cops. With Marnie safe, Dane was now free to concentrate on not killing Whitman, because he really wanted to kill Whitman.
“Put the guns down! Put the guns down!” Sullivan and his men burst into the office, subduing the guards. “Ian Whitman, this is a warrant for your arrest and a subpoena for your servers, any files in the building—”
“Daddy!” Elizabeth ran into the room, a bloody knife in her hand.
“Typical cops.” Marnie gave a hovering cop the gun she’d stolen and grimaced in pain when he cut her bonds. “Always showing up after the show is over.”
Two uniformed officers wrestled Whitman to his feet and walked him from the room with the knife still lodged in his shoulder. His adrenaline rush must have worn off, because Whitman’s legs gave out halfway to the elevator and they were forced to drag him the rest of the way.
Crying, Elizabeth launched herself onto him. Dane made her drop the knife first, then he grabbed her hands to see if they were hurt. It’s not her blood on her hands. It’s not her blood. Relief made him weak. Her cries broke his heart. It was over, he thought. They were finally safe.
“Ma’am. You can’t leave.” A uniformed policeman was getting agitated, tugging Marnie back into the room when he’d caught her trying to leave by the stairwell. Marnie broke his hold with difficulty. When he reached for her again, she lifted her hands and walked deeper into Whitman’s office, glass crunching beneath her feet. She continued walking until she was on the darkened balcony, leaning against the rail.
He guessed what she was about to do a moment before she did it, but didn’t attempt to stop her. This was Marnie. She had her reasons for everything. But when she leaned back, flipping over the rail into the dark night, Dane couldn’t stop his shout of panic. It was hard to remember that this was the same balcony she’d scaled down after her first attempt to steal the files. She’d showed him how she did it, the finger holds she’d used. It wasn’t a mystery how she could climb down, but it was still unnerving.
He rushed to the balcony’s edge, Elizabeth held tightly to his side, and watched with Sullivan and the few cops who’d noticed her stunt. They aimed flashlights to dispel the shadows of the security lighting and hissed with awe and sometimes fright as she made her way down, balcony to balcony.
“Let her go,” Dane said. “Without her you wouldn’t have gotten the security feed. She saved us all.”
When she hung from the railing on the first floor and dropped the ten feet to the ground, there was a collective gasp from the onlookers. Marnie tucked, rolled, looked up, and saw their shocked faces. With a fuck you smile, she gave them all the finger, walking backward toward the parking lot.
“I want to be her when I grow up,” Elizabeth said. It made him laugh. He hugged his daughter while Marnie ran to the van. To Smith. It had to be Smith. Everyone gaped as the van shredded rubber on the way out.
Sullivan pulled out his portable police radio and hit the receiver button. “Stand down. Let the woman go.” He dropped the radio from his mouth and caught Dane’s attention. “She looks familiar.”
“That’s Marnie,” Elizabeth said.
And she was gone—until she wanted to be found again. Dane peeled the wire off the edge of his belt and handed it to Sullivan. “Did you get eve
rything you need?”
“Yes. You’re off the hook. The transcripts are being typed now.” Sullivan pocketed the wire, watching Whitman down below in the parking lot being tended by an EMT, cuffed and mouthy to the attending uniform officer. “Elizabeth was kidnapped, so the feds will want a say in the prosecution. The lieutenant will act like he’s pissed to hand it over, but personally, I think he’ll be relieved. Every initialed agency working on the taxpayer’s dime will want in on this case.”
“The company’s bank is in the Cayman Islands.”
“Interpol, too, then. Whitman’s done. He won’t be hurting anyone else.” Sullivan clapped him on the back. “You did good, MacLain. It was good working with you.”
Dane shook out his wrists. The skin was torn from his struggles with the zip ties, and he was still working out pins and needles. With everything that was going on right now, how was it possible that the only thing he wanted to do was run outside and find that dazzling, dark-eyed beauty who’d upended his life when he found her drowning in a creek?
Harper ran onto the balcony, frantic. “Elizabeth?”
Dane pulled Elizabeth within view. “She’s here. She’s safe.”
Harper fell on Elizabeth, crying. “Thank heaven. Oh, Elizabeth, I was so worried!”
“Harper.” Sullivan indicated the door. “I’m sorry, I know you’re upset, but this is a crime scene. You cannot be in here. You need to wait downstairs.”
Harper ignored him. “Elizabeth, I never should have brought you back to the house. It was only a book. We should have waited. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Harper—” Sullivan seemed conflicted. Dane knew he had feelings for his sister, but there was something else going on, too. He just couldn’t figure it out with his head cluttered with the night’s events. “Please. You have to leave. Any defense attorney worth his salt will use your presence here against our case somehow. I have to keep this crime scene clean.”
Harper’s red curls hung down her back, bouncing with her movements as she hugged Elizabeth like she’d never let her go. “We need ice cream, and chocolate, and Pride and Prejudice. The one with Keira Knightley.”
Betrayed by a Kiss Page 23
