by Mary Burton
The middle peg was the easiest to reach, so she started with it. She tried to pull it free of the hinge, but it didn’t budge. She tugged harder, her hand slipped, and she snapped the French manicured nail on her index finger. “Shit.”
For a moment she was incensed. She’d just had her nails done last night. And then the absurdity of it all made her laugh. Good Lord, she was bleeding, trapped, and most likely would have to face down a killer. And she was worried about a damn nail. She laughed so hard, tears rolled down her cheeks.
Finally, she stayed her nervous laughter. She’d have to find something to jab the hinge free. She didn’t want to be here when Denny returned.
Charlotte needed something stronger than her finger to wedge the peg out of the hinge. Glancing around the room, she saw nothing that would work except the sharp heel of her pumps.
Grimacing, Charlotte leaned over and picked up the shoe. The pumps had cost her three hundred dollars a few years ago and she’d lovingly cared for them like children.
She started to work on the peg. In seconds the soft leather ripped. She cringed and then reminded herself dead women didn’t wear shoes.
Chapter Seven
Wednesday, December 24, 8:00 A.M.
Nicole couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt, well, complete. She loved Beth and couldn’t imagine her life without her child, but last night with Ayden had filled a need that went beyond the mind-blowing sex. For the first time, the idea of a life with him didn’t scare her.
She stepped out of the shower and toweled off her hair. She dressed in yesterday’s clothes and dried her hair quickly with the hotel’s blow dryer. When she stepped out of the bathroom, Ayden was standing with his back to her. He’d dressed and stared out the window. His cell phone to his ear. Under his white shirt she saw the outline of his bulletproof vest and frowned. She didn’t like the idea of him being in danger.
“The roads have been cleared and salted, so we’ll be able to get on the road. It just depends what we find at the bank,” he said into the phone.
At the bank. Richard. For the last few hours, she’d felt so much like her old self—a vibrant, twenty-nine-year-old woman. And then the thought of Richard’s name made her feel a hundred again, as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders.
Ayden hung up. He smiled and winked. “It’s going to be okay.”
In that moment the weight drifted from her shoulders and she felt as if she could do anything. She would get through this. She would survive. And life would be good again. “Let’s go.”
Charlotte worked on and off through the night on the doorjamb. Her side pinched each time she shoved her hand up and jammed the heel into the peg. Sometimes it was so painful she had to stop and rest. A couple of times she’d sat down and drifted off into a fitful sleep.
Now, however, she was wide awake. She’d removed the middle and bottom hinges and now had only the top one to tackle.
She lifted her gnarled, scuffed shoe over her head and jabbed the heel under the peg. The upward motion made her grimace but she kept working. Slowly the peg started to budge.
“Come on, you son of a bitch. Move!”
Charlotte shoved with all she had and the spindle wriggled free of the latch and fell to the floor with a loud ping. She cast her shoe aside and yanked on the door handle. The lock remained fused but the other side opened several inches. It wasn’t enough for her to squeeze through.
Charlotte rested her head against the door and swallowed. “Please just get me out of here.” It was the closest she’d ever come to a prayer. Until now she’d never asked God for a favor because, well, she never figured he listened. “Please.”
She straightened her shoulders and pulled against the doorknob. This time the door opened more. It was a tight squeeze, but enough for her to get through.
Charlotte pressed through the opening, crying in pain when the hard wood grazed her wound. She tumbled out into her office onto the floor. She curled her fingers into fists. “Take that, you son of a bitch.”
She glanced up to her desk to the phone. Half pulling and half climbing up the side of her desk she laid her hand on the phone receiver and lifted it. The line was dead.
“Damn.”
She moved around behind her desk and dug her purse out of the bottom drawer. She burrowed her hand deep in the leather sack until she found her cell phone. She dialed 911 and waited for the operator.
“Nine-one-one. State your emergency.”
Charlotte had never been more grateful to hear another human being in her life.
Denny sat in the lobby drinking his eighth cup of coffee. He’d waited in the lobby an hour for Christina and when she’d not appeared he’d decided to put his time to use. He got his laptop from the trunk of his car, found a corner of the lobby and hooked up to the hotel’s WiFi service.
He searched the Internet for anything he could find about Christina Braxton, aka Nicole Piper. Her Web site showcased impressive pictures, and newspaper accounts detailed that she’d survived.
Too bad she had to die.
His mind drifted to Charlotte. He wondered how she’d fared last night. No doubt time alone coupled with her injury had subdued her. He smiled. He looked forward to doubling back to the law firm.
Denny turned his attention to Ayden. Ayden, it turned out, was a decorated cop who’d proven he was more than worth his salt. Not good. He’d have to be careful when he snatched Christina because he’d prefer not to tangle with Ayden.
Now as he sat in the lobby watching the guests checking out, he knew it was a matter of time before he saw Christina and finished this damn job that had taken far too long.
Ayden pulled open their hotel room door. “I’m sorry to say good-bye to the place.”
Nicole glanced back into the room at the rumpled sheets on the bed. “Me, too.”
“Maybe we should come back sometime.”
The offer hung in the air. She knew Ayden wanted so much more. And something inside her whispered again that the time had come to take a chance. “Sounds good.”
He grinned and pressed his hand into the small of her back. He guided her to the elevator and pressed the DOWN button.
His touch on her back was light, but the points of pressure sent shivers of delight down her back.
The doors dinged open, he kissed her on the lips, and they stepped inside the car. The doors closed behind them.
Ayden stood straight, not touching her but close so that she felt the energy radiating from his body. She missed touching him, missed the connection they’d shared in the room. She slid her hand into his and he gently squeezed it. He rubbed her palm with a calloused thumb.
“I love you,” he said.
Speechless, emotions swirled in her. She’d never heard anything so sweet and so frightening. She wanted to love him, but still feared the vulnerability and pain that came with it. She squeezed his hand and kissed him on the lips.
He stared at her as if trying to peer into her mind. “I don’t expect you to say anything back. I just wanted you to know how I feel.”
“I want to be fair to you. I don’t want to hurt you again.”
He squeezed her hand. “I know.”
The doors to the elevator opened and they walked into the lobby and moved to registration so Ayden could check out.
The Christmas tree in the lobby winked and sparkled in the corner. As Ayden gave the clerk his information, she headed toward the tree. She loved this time of year and she loved looking at the different trees. She touched one of the teardrop glass balls hanging from a branch, mesmerized by the way the morning light hit it.
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
Nicole turned toward the unfamiliar male voice and smiled. The guy wore wire-rimmed glasses and had reddish hair. He looked nice enough, but instinct had her tensing and moving away. “Yes.”
The guy looked at her. “Do I know you?”
“No.” She glanced over at Ayden, who stood at the front desk.
She couldn’t go running to him every time a man spoke to her. Still, maybe she’d wander over to the large fireplace. “Excuse me.”
He moved and blocked her path. “My name is Denny Smith.”
“Okay.”
“No, but I do know you, from California. You’re the photographer, Christina Braxton.”
Nicole’s stomach dropped. Her heart pounded in her chest. “No. I’m not Christina.”
“You sure? I’m a photography collector and I’m certain I bought some of your work in San Francisco.”
“My name is Nicole Piper.” She didn’t feel the least bit flattered. She felt as if the past were sucking her in again.
Ayden’s phone rang as he tucked the credit card slip in his wallet and slid it and his card into his pocket. He flipped open the phone. “Detective Ayden.”
“This is Charlotte Wellington.”
Her voice sounded fragile. It didn’t fit the image of the strong, cold woman he’d met yesterday. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a man. Dark hair wearing a T-shirt and biker jacket. Calls himself Denny. He’s looking for Nicole. He shot me.”
His senses went on full alert. “Shit. Where are you?”
“My office. I’ve called nine-one-one and they’re sending help, but you need to protect Nicole. This guy is dangerous and I think her husband sent him. Go find her. I’ll be fine.” She hung up.
Ayden’s gaze swung over the lobby. He spotted Nicole standing by the tree. A man was talking to her. Her back was to him and he couldn’t see her face. He didn’t fit Charlotte’s description but Ayden wouldn’t take a chance. Without hesitating, he unclipped the strap on his gun holster and started to move toward them. “Nicole.”
Just as he did, the man pulled out a gun and stuck it in Nicole’s side. She flinched and tried to move away. But the man yanked her against him. He dragged her toward a service exit.
In that moment, Ayden realized the man was going to kill Nicole.
Chapter Eight
Wednesday, December 24, 9:02 A.M.
Nicole struggled to free her arm as the stranger dragged her to a metal door. “Let go of me!”
Denny jabbed the barrel of the gun in her side. “Make a sound and I will kill your friend by the reception desk.”
A scream died in her throat as the service door slammed behind them. “What do you want?”
“Your husband sent me.”
Nicole jerked against his grip. “My husband is dead!”
“He hired me before he died. I’m kinda his insurance plan.” He fired at the lock and the bullet mangled the metal before bouncing off. Nicole cringed. Denny didn’t flinch as he pushed her down the tunnellike hallway that led toward stairs.
The air in the hallway quickly grew colder and she could smell the scent of garbage. They were headed to a back alley. She twisted free, lost her balance and pitched forward toward the stairs.
Denny grabbed her arm again, saving her from falling. “Careful, you could have broken your neck.”
If he’d meant to kill her quickly, he would have let her fall. If Richard had hired him then whatever he planned was going to be painful. This time she did scream.
The sound echoed in the hallway and Denny cursed. “Shut the hell up.”
Anger roiled inside her. “Drop dead.”
Ayden’s voice could be heard issuing orders from the other side. Frustrated, the man dragged her down the stairs at such a rapid pace she had to take the steps two at a time.
Behind them, she heard pounding on the door before it crashed open with such force it slammed against the wall.
Ayden. She screamed, “David!”
Denny glanced back but didn’t break stride. “He won’t get to us in time. I’ve got a car parked outside in the alley by the service entrance. Cooperate and that sweet baby of yours will grow up.”
Her heart leapt with grief and fear. “How do you know about her?”
“I discovered a whole lot about you and your boyfriend.” He shoved her toward a metal door. “Sounds like you’re getting your life back on track. Too bad.”
Denny reached for the door handle and twisted it. Outside she could hear the scrape of a snowplow and the honking of a horn.
If they got through this door, she’d be lost to her daughter and Ayden forever. Her heart hammering against her ribs, she reached down and grabbed the gun with her free hand. She twisted it away from him as she drove her foot into his shin and down on his foot. Pain drained the color from his face and for an instant he hesitated. “Goddamn, bitch. Let go.”
“Go to hell,” she hissed.
Denny grabbed her arm. He was stronger, but a fierce energy rolled through her as if she were possessed. She was not going to leave her child an orphan.
He wrestled the gun free from her and shoved her back against the metal door. Her head hit hard and for a second pain blurred everything.
He whirled her around so that she faced the door. “Now get your sweet ass outside.” She felt the jab of metal in her ribs.
Nicole righted and drove the back of her head into his nose. He screeched in pain and grabbed a handful of her hair. “I’m gonna enjoy taking you apart inch by inch.”
“Let her go.” Ayden’s command echoed from behind them.
The man jerked Nicole around so that the two of them faced Ayden. He pressed his gun to her temple.
“This is between Christina and me,” the man said easily. “Let us go, Detective.”
“No.”
The blood trickling from Denny’s nose made him sniff. “You’ve got two boys. I’d hate for anything to happen to them.”
Nicole’s gaze locked on Ayden’s. He had the gun pointed right at them and there was steel in his eyes that she’d never seen before. It was a hard, cold look.
Claire. Lindsay. Now David. She’d brought such terror into so many lives.
“You’re not taking her,” Ayden said.
Denny pointed the tip of the gun barrel to Nicole’s head. “You can’t stop me.”
Even if Ayden fired, Denny could easily put a bullet in her brain. She couldn’t expect Ayden to save her alone. She jerked forward, trying to break his hold.
Denny’s iron hold didn’t budge. “Stop it.”
“Let her go,” Ayden said.
Denny shook his head. “Can’t do that. There’s a hell of a bonus waiting for me when I deliver her body to the right people.”
Ayden took a step toward them, the gun steady. “You’ve been seen. Too many people can identify you.”
The man laughed. “I can change my appearance in seconds. When I leave here I’ll be a different man in less than a minute.”
“You aren’t leaving here with her.”
“She’s not worth dying for. She’s not worth making those boys of yours orphans.”
Nicole screamed and yanked hard against the man’s grip. She managed to shift her weight slightly to the left. Ayden fired his gun. The bullet hit Denny in the shoulder and the impact knocked him off balance and into the door behind him. Blood splattered Nicole’s face.
Denny fired his gun. The deafening sound cut through her ears. The bullet struck Ayden in the chest. He dropped to his knees before he fell forward.
Nicole screamed as she watched Ayden hit the floor. Tears burning her eyes, she started shrieking and jabbed her elbow into Denny’s injured shoulder. He grimaced and the pain doubled him over.
She grabbed his gun and tried to wrench it free of his grasp. Pain had loosened his grip and the metal gun handle started to slip from his fingers. She nearly had it free when Denny grabbed her hair and jerked back her head. The force was so great she stumbled and fell to her backside.
Denny whirled on her and trained the gun tip right at her temple. He was going to fire. Rage and anger had wiped all reason from his eyes. He was going to kill her.
Seconds passed like days. She saw every detail in excruciating clarity. The blood on his shoulder. The beads of sweat on his forehead. The rapid ri
se and fall of his chest.
The deafening sound of gunshot exploded and echoed in the hallway. For a moment Nicole wasn’t sure if she was alive or dead. And then a plume of blood blossomed on Denny’s shirt and he fell back against the wall. He slid down the wall, his eyes wide with shock and anger.
Nicole didn’t hesitate. She scrambled to her feet and yanked the gun from his hand. Clutching it tightly, she kept the gun trained on Denny as she backed up.
Ayden was standing now, his gun also on Denny. As they moved toward each other, she could see that his face was ashen with pain.
“You’re not dead,” she said. She nearly wept with joy.
“No.” He sounded as if he were in great pain.
“Your vest,” she said, remembering.
“Yeah.” He knelt beside Denny and checked for a pulse. “He’s dead.”
Denny lay on the floor. His eyes had glazed over and his shirt was stained crimson.
“Are you all right?” His voice sounded hard and abrupt.
“Yes.”
“Are you bleeding?”
“No. Just bruised.” There was no tenderness in his gaze. She wanted him to take her in his arms and tell her it was all going to be fine but he didn’t. He was all business.
Ayden flipped open his phone and called 911. He reported the facts to the dispatcher. He hung up. “The receptionist upstairs already called it in like I told her.”
She nodded as she stared down at Denny. “Richard sent him.”
“It was all a trap.”
“Yes.”
Neither he nor Nicole moved. She was stunned by the violence. Ayden was wired from the adrenaline.
The Alexandria cops opened the service entrance and entered, guns drawn. Half a dozen uniforms moved swiftly into the small area, first confirming that Denny was dead and then turning their attention to Ayden.
Ayden lowered his gun to the ground and raised his hands as he identified himself. Slowly he pulled out his ID.
Cold air from the alley swirled around Nicole. Her teeth chattered and she could barely breathe. Her hands trembled.
