He none too gently got her in a headlock so he could put the mask on her. The last thing she saw before her world went dark was the maniacally gleeful eyes of the man in front of her. The sound of the door locking made her want to scream. Not to mention the mask was evidently a child's size and her head probably resembled the number eight.
"Where's Tonto when you need him?" Only her heart cried out for Beau.
Chapter 57
Hardy was still trying to process the information Mitch had been able to give him. As soon as Matt finished telling him about Haley, he’d handed the phone to Hardy. Then, Hardy listened to Mitch while driving. He hoped what he’d learned would save Haley. That’s all he cared about at this point.
“Let me out here.” Matt pointed to the gates of the tool factory. “I’ll come on foot the rest of the way. Weston won’t be expecting me, so he’ll think you’re alone.”
Hardy was well aware he was the police officer and should be planning Haley’s rescue. His emotions were too deeply involved this time, though, and Matt’s idea made sense. He pulled over and waited until Matt was out of the car before driving away.
The address Weston led him to was that of an out-of-business laundry. There were no vehicles or people in sight when Hardy pulled into the parking lot. Since there was no way of knowing what the risk was to Haley, he decided to simply walk into the building.
I need some help here, Father. Lots of it. If it’s my time to go, then take me. But please don’t take Haley. She deserves to have a full life. Please show me how to save her. Please don’t make me watch the woman you gave me to love die. Please.
Hardy took a deep breath and walked into the building.
“Give me your gun.” After what Mitch had told him, Hardy wasn’t at all surprised to see Wyatt Millan standing there. It did disturb him to see the gun in his hand. Tim Miller was twelve eggs shy of a dozen, and there was one thing more dangerous than a man holding a gun. A man who didn’t know how to use it holding one. He silently pulled the nine-millimeter out of his shoulder holster and leaned over to drop it on the floor.
“Put your hands up,” Wyatt ordered him.
“That’s not necessary, Timothy.” The smooth voice drew Hardy’s attention to the other side of the room. He recognized the man immediately.
“Where’s Haley?” he asked Rob Weston. “I’m here, so you can let her go.”
Wyatt shook the gun at him. “You can’t have her. She’s my new sister.” Suddenly, his anger was replaced by childish joy, and he giggled like a child. “She’s my new sister, and we’re going to see the fireworks pretty soon. Wanna come?”
If it would get Beau to Hardy, he’d go see whatever the disturbed man wanted to show him.
“No.” Rob Weston “Those are only for you and your new sister. Remember?”
A blank look slowly disappeared as Wyatt looked at his father. “Should I shoot him now?”
Again, if Hardy thought it would help Haley, he’d take a bullet. But Weston was making it pretty obvious that his son mattered very little, if at all. Hardy had too much experience with men like his dad’s supposed friend; if the old man had his way, not a one of them would walk out the door alive. He would even sacrifice his son.
“He can—“
“Why are you doing this?” Hardy interrupted what was more than likely permission for Tim Miller to pull the trigger. Besides, Matt wasn’t there yet; Hardy needed to stall. “You were my dad’s friend.” He ignored the younger man and spoke to Weston.
“You let my sister die, and you killed my brother.” Although he sounded like an adolescent, it seemed Wyatt didn’t want to be left out.
Hardy gave the disturbed man his attention. “I tried to stop your sister from dying, but it was too late before I even got there. She was already as good as dead.”
Wyatt’s jaw moved soundlessly up and down as he must have been weighing Hardy’s truth against his father’s lies. Hardy wasn’t very surprised when Weston’s influence won. “That doesn’t make sense. I saw it. You were with her when she died.”
“Why don’t you tell your son the truth, Weston?” Hardy had to keep them talking. It was his only hope. He could only imagine what Wyatt’s “fireworks” might be.
Rob Weston smirked as he sat on a chair. “You go ahead. It will be interesting to hear your version, and he won’t understand it, anyway.”
Wyatt—Timothy, listen to me.” This was the way Hardy had approached the juveniles hoping to get in on the Dohner action. He had saved several boys and girls by talking them into walking away. He had to be calm and forceful. “Your sister stood up because she wanted to die. Your father helped her hire those men to shoot her. She wanted to die.”
Wyatt wildly shook his head. “Father loved her. Like he loves me, and like he loved Jimmy.”
“Do you know how insurance works, Wyatt?” Hardy calmly asked.
Weston’s exaggerated eye roll told Hardy the older man thought he was wasting his time.
But Wyatt had heard him. “Insurance is when you pay some people to give you money. Jimmy and I used to get lots of money from insurance before we found Father.”
“But you found me, and you didn’t have to do that anymore. Remember?” Was Weston starting to worry?
Harding still had Wyatt’s attention. “Your father paid money to a bunch of companies, for your sister. If she died, they would give him a lot of money. He found out she wanted to die. But if she did something to herself, the company wouldn’t give your father any money. So he helped her hire two men to come into the store and shoot her.”
“Forget about your sister.” Weston saw the same thing Harding did. He was getting through to Wyatt/Tim. Weston snarled. “He killed Jimmy. You can go ahead and kill him now.”
“Your father had Jim shot. Or he may have tried to kill your brother, himself.” Hardy spoke quickly, seeing confusion come to Wyatt’s face.
“I did no such thing.” Weston actually sounded affronted. “It was another man who killed my team and James. Somebody else hired him; I didn’t.”
The con man had evidently forgotten his son was listening. “Another man . . .” Wyatt covered his ears with his hands and shook his head. “You can’t say that! You said Davis did!”
“Shoot him!” Spittle sprayed from his father’s mouth as he yelled.
“I think he’d be better off dropping that gun.” Matt’s calm voice came from directly behind Wyatt right before he stepped into the light. Hardy immediately saw that his friend was holding his pistol steadily aimed at Rob Weston. “I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t bat an eyelash if I shot your boy, Weston, but I know you’re mighty fond of yourself. Now, tell him to put the gun down.”
Wyatt looked helplessly from Hardy to his father as he dangled the weapon in the air, precariously aimed at Hardy. “What do you want me to do, Father? I’ll mind you. I’m a good boy.”
For what seemed like forever, Hardy actually believed Weston was going to instruct his son to shoot him. But, instead, a grim smile came to the older man’s face.
“Put the gun down, Tim.” Something was wrong. Weston was too pleased by the situation. “We’ll just all stay and see the fireworks with Miss Johnson.”
Wyatt immediately dropped the gun and clapped his hands. “I like fireworks, Father!”
Hardy had his gun aimed directly at Weston’s heart before Wyatt’s had barely hit the floor.
“Where is Haley?” He had a feeling time was of the essence. “Tell me right now.”
“Or you’ll what?” Weston smiled smugly at him. “You’re just like your old man, you know. Too good at your job for your own good. The minute my name and the insurance payouts hit the paper, you’d have figured it out. And if H.B. wasn’t so good, he might not have noticed when I found your address on his computer.”
“My father is a thousand times more of a man than you will ever be.” Hardy wasn’t going to quietly stand there and listen to the criminal put down H.B.
“He’s a sno
op.” Weston’s eyes went back and forth between Hardy and Matt, once again showing his lack of paternal feelings.
“You’re a murderer.” Hardy was about three seconds from handing his gun to Matt so he’d have both hands free to pulverize Rob Weston.
Apparently, Weston wasn’t good at reading people. “H.B. wouldn’t have learned about Kari and the insurance, or my plans, if he hadn’t snooped in my desk.” Hardy tightened his grip on the pistol.
Still, Weston smirked as he continued. “Did you know some prescribed drugs are known to cause strokes, Davis? In fact, my son over there was on pretty powerful medication with a common side effect of causing a stroke. Your father shouldn’t have finished his coffee after he had decided it tasted funny.”
If he’d been angry before, Beau Davis was now full of rage. He took a step, intent on making the criminal pay for what he’d done to H.B.
“We have to find Haley.” Haley’s name and Matt’s calm voice broke through the fog of fury threatening to engulf him. “She’s what’s important right now, Hardy.”
Haley. His heartbeat slowed down, and he took a deep breath. Then he managed a small smile. “It’s too bad my mom took out the man Sam Weiss hired for you.”
It was evident Hardy had finally hit a nerve. “How do you know about Weiss?”
“He confessed.” Hardy took a step closer to him. “He figured out you hired the Janitor, and he decided not to wait until you put him on the list for your next hit man.”
“I did not hire the Janitor!”
“Where’s Haley?” Hardy was finished with the chitchat. “Tell me right now.”
“She’s with the fireworks!” Wyatt seemed blissfully unaware that Matt stood beside him with a gun aimed directly at his head. “We’ll all see the fireworks when Mickey is ten.”
Hardy realized what Tim Miller was talking about at the same time Matt spoke. “There’s a bomb with Haley. Wherever she is.”
Suddenly, a loud and erratic thumping came from a dark corner of the room.
“Go check it out,” Matt told Hardy. “These guys aren’t going anywhere.”
Hardy wasted no time in walking to the source of the noise. Barely visible was a locked door he assumed opened into a utility room, and someone was definitely causing a ruckus on the other side of it. With Weiss’s surrender, all the people involved in this mess were accounted for. So, it could only be one person in that room.
It took every bit of his strength as he pulled at the door, but it finally flew open. Hardy was totally unprepared for what met him. A fireball of hitting, kicking, biting woman pounced on him.
“Tie me up with shoelaces, you idiot!” She yelled as she went after him. “You didn’t even double knot them!”
“Haley!” Hardy wasn’t defending himself because he didn’t want to take the chance of hurting her, but she was going to do some real damage. “Haley, it’s me! Stop!”
“Beau?” Her arms and legs went still, and Hardy barely had time to get his arms under her before she went down like a lead weight.
“She passed out.” He held her tightly against his chest.
“Get her out of here,” Matt instructed. “It’s nearly ten o’clock, and if there’s a bomb in here . . .”
Hardy didn’t need to be told twice. He rushed out of the building with Haley safely in his arms. He had just reached the edge of the parking lot when what sounded like gunshots rang out. Then Matt appeared, running full speed toward them.
The explosion knocked Hardy off his feet. He was barely able to protect Haley’s head when they fell. His ears were ringing so loudly he didn’t even hear the sirens before he saw Mitch leaning over him.
Then it seemed like scenes from a movie he’d never want to see again. It ended with the ambulance pulling away to take Haley to the hospital. Neither he nor Matt had suffered more than scratches and bruises. Mitch told them to let Wayne drive them in to be checked, just in case, but Matt refused.
Since Hardy wanted to be where Haley was anyway, he followed Wayne. He heard Matt’s words as he walked by him and the sheriff.
“I was distracted by the bomb, I guess. Wyatt got his gun and shot the old man. Then he shot himself before I could stop him. I had to get out of there before the bomb blew.”
So, that’s what he heard—a murder-suicide. Even with everything Tim Miller had done, Hardy felt sorry for him. If his father hadn’t convinced him to go off his medication and hadn’t blatantly used him, the mentally ill man might have stood a chance.
Hardy pushed it out of his mind for now. Right now his focus was on Haley. She was more important than anything else.
Chapter 58
The first thing Haley saw when she opened her eyes was Beau, his head resting on the hospital bed beside her stomach and his hand gripping hers. He was asleep.
“Beau?” She only knew she was in the hospital. What had happened?
“How are you feeling?” His voice was hoarse. “You’ve been asleep for hours. Dr. Potter said your body needed time to recover from the stress you were under, so he sedated you.”
“I'm all right.” She reached over and touched his cheek. “What about Weston? Is it over?”
Beau’s eyes were troubled as he answered her. "Matt said Miller—Wyatt—somehow got the gun and shot his father, and then himself. They were both dead before the explosion.”
Wyatt had probably snapped.
She smiled as her fingers brushed his jaw. “You need to shave.”
“I know.” His eyes met hers, and the small smile on his mouth faded. “I’ve never been so scared in my life, Haley. I mean when I didn’t know where you were. I don’t think I’ve ever prayed so hard before.”
“You found me.” She was amazed by the man she was going to marry. “I’m sorry I attacked you. I thought you were Wyatt coming back in.”
“You and my mom.” Beau smiled wryly. “You didn’t even need a bedpan. You just used bunny slippers.”
“Did I hurt you?” She tried to sit up so she could see more of him.
His hands firmly pushed her shoulders against the pillow. “Nothing a couple of Band-Aids and iodine didn’t take care of.” He frowned in puzzlement. “Did you say something about being tied up with shoelaces?”
Haley still couldn’t believe it herself. “I practically bent in two, but I managed to get the stupid mask off. Thanks to Wyatt's fear of the dark, I could see that he used regular shoelaces to tie me up. And he tied them just like you’d tie a shoe. All I had to do was get my leg up high enough to catch the loop, and then my right hand was free to untie the rest.”
Beau shook his head. “He had a problem, didn’t he?”
“You think?” Haley knew she should, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to feel sorry for him yet. “Beau, he had his laundry there. He was washing his clothes while he kept me there.” Then she remembered more of the experience. “He spoke about having a brother and sister, Beau. I think Kari Jeffries was his sister.”
“Are you up to hearing everything? Mitch has found out a lot.” His eyes were full of concern. “And my dad was able to help, too.”
No. She’d rather bury her head under the covers and try to pretend that none of this happened. But that was exactly why she needed to know. “Tell me.”
“Wyatt Millan never existed. He was a character James and Timothy Miller took turns playing. From what I understand, Tim was stuck at home most of the time. Even before he went off the medication, his problem was hard to hide."
She thought of what Melissa called his bipolar behavior; two Wyatt’s made sense.
"They’ve been con artists since they were in their teens," continued Beau. “Somehow, James found out Rob Weston was their biological father. He and Tim planned to con him, too. Only Weston turned the tables on them.”
“What do you mean?” Haley reached over and laced their fingers together.
His grip tightened reassuringly. “Weston presented them with a sister. The twins saw her from very different perspect
ives. To Tim, she was his little sister. He was supposed to be her big brother and take care of her. Jim saw her the same way their father did. As a moneymaker. Kari Jeffries had attempted suicide at least four times. Weston offered her the perfect solution. He helped her hire two men to kill her. It was guaranteed to be successful.” Beau turned his head and kissed her fingers. He evidently needed physical contact with her as badly as she did.
“Weston had over a million dollars of insurance policies out on her. Jim and the other guys Weston hired thought they were going to get a share of them once he collected. But I messed everything up.”
“I don’t understand.” Maybe she had hit her head too hard again. “I know your mom said he was aware that you were alive, but how did Weston know where you were?”
Beau smiled sadly. “At some point, my dad let something slip. Then I guess Weston waited until they had a get-together at my parents’ house and somehow, he was able to get on Dad’s computer and find my address. Dad’s more tech savvy than you’d think, though. He knew right away somebody had been in the files, and it didn’t take him long to suspect Weston.” He couldn’t quite hide the anger in his eyes. “Dad repaid the favor. Weston saw him digging in his files the night Dad had his stroke.”
“But if your dad knew the kind of man Rob Weston really was, why did he stick around? If Weston caught him, I mean, why . . .”
“Dad didn’t know Weston saw him.” Anger flashed in his eyes. “Weston gave Dad coffee laced with medication that most likely caused his stroke. Weston wanted him out of the way.”
“Why did he want you dead so badly? His daughter was gone, and he didn’t have to worry about suicide nullifying the insurance. Not when everybody thought it was murder.”
“Weston didn’t stop to wonder if his daughter’s suicide attempts were reported, and when most of the insurance companies wouldn’t pay until it was proven to be a murder.”
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