by Brant, Kylie
Mac nodded. A small, intimate eatery, it was just around the corner.
“Good. Why don’t you meet us there? Maybe between now and then you’ll figure out just what it is that’s bugging you.” Chuckling, the man walked away.
Going out for an intimate drink with Raine, especially with Bonzer in tow, was the last thing Mac thought was going to cure this itchy feeling. But he knew he’d go. He’d seize the opportunity to be with Raine, even if they weren’t alone.
The last of the guests left, and still André and Raine hadn’t come out of the office. Fighting the urge to go and drag her away with him, he strode to the rest room. When he emerged and returned to the front door, the white limo was pulling away from the curb. André was locking the front door.
“I never thought you were such an art lover that you’d be the last one out of here,” the man snapped, barely civil.
“I have varied tastes.” Striding toward his van, he hoped like hell that Klassen wasn’t going to join them tonight. He felt like crawling out of his own skin, and a good fight sounded like a satisfying way to cure the feeling.
Entering Sheena’s, Mac squinted in the dimness. Seeing Bonzer in the corner, he approached the table.
“Where’s Raine?” asked Bonzer.
“Raine?” Mac repeated, uncomprehendingly. “You said she was coming with you.”
Harold shook his head. “I thought so, but at the last minute she decided to go look for you and see if you’d agree to come tonight.”
“Damn,” Mac swore, turning to stride rapidly away. He met André at the door. “Give me the gallery keys,” he demanded.
“Have you finally taken complete leave of your senses, O’Neill?” Klassen demanded.
Remembering what the gallery owner had told him when he’d questioned him about security, Mac grabbed André’s shirt. “Give me the damn keys. Raine must be locked in there, and the damn lights are on a timer. They’ll be going off any minute.”
Klassen jerked out of Mac’s grasp. “There wasn’t anybody left in the gallery when I closed up. And if she was there, she’s fully capable of calling us here.”
Mac didn’t waste any more time arguing. Thoughts of Raine alone, even for the slightest amount of time, in near darkness in unfamiliar surroundings made his muscles contract. He already knew too well how the news of Burnett had affected her. He’d seen the night-light and recognized the ghosts that refused to be banished. He didn’t want her to be traumatized any more. Lowering his face to Klassen’s, he gritted out, “Last chance, Klassen. Give me the keys, now, or I’ll take them off your unconscious body.”
Recognizing the threat in Mac’s face, André reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. Mac snatched them away and ran out the door. Deciding it was quicker on foot, Mac avoided the parking lot and loped around the corner. The gallery was in sight. Even as he caught sight of it, the lights in the building dimmed automatically. Cursing fluently, he put on more speed.
Raine held the heel of one red pump in her hand and childishly kicked the rest of the shoe across the rest room. Closing her eyes and sighing, she leaned heavily against the wall. This could only happen to her, she thought fatalistically. Every other woman in the world managed to dress up occasionally without courting minor disasters. But when it was her turn, fate always took a satirical turn. She’d spent the last ten minutes in here trying without result to force the heel onto the shoe. It was time to admit defeat.
She might have avoided this if she’d just gotten in Harold’s limo, as planned. But she hadn’t been able to resist the urge to search out Macauley. Her intent had been to see that he joined them, but she hadn’t found him in the large room of the gallery. Stopping in the rest room to freshen her makeup, she’d turned her ankle and neatly snapped her shoe into two useless pieces.
She slipped out of the other shoe, rescued the first from where she’d kicked it and left the room. She padded almost silently down the corridor, and when she got to the gallery’s large room, she stopped, nonplussed.
It was completely empty. She hurriedly checked the other rooms, the office, rest rooms and storeroom. All empty. Feeling more and more like a second-class Cinderella forgotten at the bail, she heaved a heavy sigh and went to the door to let herself out. She could manage to get to Sheena’s herself. It wasn’t far, and the streets were extremely well lit. However, she was going to look darn funny limping along without shoes on.
The door didn’t move under her hand. Surprised, she used more strength, pulling with all her might. The set of front double doors remained immobile.
And then, just when she was cursing the fates, the lights went out.
The sudden blanket of darkness sent an all-too-familiar wave of panic through her. Her reaction was as inevitable as it was unavoidable. Her breathing grew erratic, her palms clammy. Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm herself. The doorway outside the gallery remained lit. She wasn’t in total darkness. She looked over her shoulder slowly. The rest of the gallery was as black as a tomb.
Raine peered into the dim light that came through the doors, trying to find the light switch. She didn’t see it. Moving to the wall nearest the door, she stepped a little deeper into the room, feeling her way on the wall. No luck.
Stopping, she wrapped her arms around herself and fumbled with her purse. All she had to do was call Mac. He’d see to it that she got out of here.
But her fingers were clumsy. Dialing a number was beyond her. The small light coming from her phone was her only beacon in the darkness. Her chest was tight, her heart pounding. Her breath was coming in quick, short spurts. She hadn’t felt this panicked in a long time. Despairingly, she wondered if just finding out who had been responsible for the threats was going to undo all the gains she’d made through the years.
Her spine stiffened. That wasn’t going to happen; she wouldn’t let it. Using the light from her cell to guide her way she forced herself to take another step, and then another. Her progress was slow and laborious. But she knew where the light switch was in the office. She just had to get there before her fear of the dark paralyzed her.
Raine looked over her shoulder toward the doors. The light seeping through them beckoned like an oasis on a desert. She turned resolutely away. The need to continue went beyond the need to find a way out of here. She had something to prove, at least to herself. She wouldn’t allow herself be a coward.
When she reached the hallway, she took a great breath. She was almost there, and yet it seemed as though the farther she came on her journey, the harder it became for her to continue. Inching toward the door, she moved with very little noise, save for her ragged breathing. When she reached the office door, she clasped the doorknob as though it was a lifeline and pushed the door open quickly, reaching for the light switch at the same time.
Her body went limp, and her eyes closed in relief as light flooded the room. She leaned heavily against the wall, her heart pounding as rapidly as if she’d finished a marathon. It was several moments before she opened her eyes again, and moments later before her adrenaline-loaded brain observed the other figure in the room, by the desk.
“Sarah!” she gasped.
Sarah was staring at her, dismay written on her face.
“Raine! What . . . what are you doing here?”
Her pulse was just beginning to resume its regular beat as she explained ruefully, “I was in the rest room and got locked in. I was just going to call Sheena’s to tell someone to come get me.” She frowned quizzically at her friend. “I thought everyone had left.”
Sarah gave a shaky laugh. “Were we born under the same star, or what? Would you believe that I came back tonight because I thought I’d left my purse? I was in the office looking for it and never realized that everyone else had gone.”
Confusion warred in Raine’s mind. “But you weren’t here before the lights went off. I looked around.” Noticing the vapor rising from a jar on the desk, she frowned and took a step closer. “What’s that?”
<
br /> Sarah didn’t answer.
Raine took a step closer and stopped. “It looks like acid, Sarah. I know it wasn’t here when I came in earlier.”
In the face of her friend’s continuing silence, a feeling of dread began to seep through Raine’s system. “Sarah?” she whispered, her gaze rising to meet her friend’s.
But Sarah’s gaze was fixed on the wall beyond the desk. The shade on the window was pressed inward, and someone was crawling over the sill. He jumped lightly to the floor and turned around, saying, “Sarah, you idiot. Turn off that damn light before someone sees it.”
Joe Jennings’s voice stopped abruptly when he saw Raine. Then a grim smile crossed his face, and he addressed his sister again. “Looks like things are going to turn out my way, after all.”
“No, Joe,” Sarah said sharply.
“Shut up!” he ordered. Sarah’s mouth trembled, but she remained silent. “Get over there and turn off the light. Come here, Raine.”
Raine didn’t move.
“I said get over here!”
Sarah moved to obey her brother and turned off the switch.
Even forewarned, Raine couldn’t stem her panic from being cast abruptly in darkness again. As she stood immobile, even her mind seemed frozen. Then a hand yanked her by the shoulder and pulled her off balance. A hard arm crooked around her throat.
There was a roaring in her ears. Wild scrabbling in her chest. This was a scene from her nightmares, a stranger in back of her, touching her, the very real element of evil surrounding her. Her frozen state lasted only for a moment, until reaction set in, and she fought wildly to free herself.
“Damn you,” Joe cursed, as one of her backward kicks made contact with his leg. She raked her fingernails over his arms, her actions fueled by panic and renewed adrenaline. “Stop!” He removed his arm from her neck and grasped both her wrists, yanking them behind her.
A flashlight clicked on, and Joe and Raine were caught in its beam. “Joe, let her go!” Sarah insisted. “This isn’t going to work.”
“Of course it will work,” he retorted, panting from his struggle with Raine. “This solution will be a more permanent one, is all. We don’t need to worry about ruining the pictures. We can get rid of her once and for all. I failed in the car, and the fire didn’t do the trick. But this is almost too perfect. It can be arranged to look like an accident. Poor Miss Michaels got locked in here at night and got disoriented in the dark. She panicked. Surely there’s something in here she could trip over and hit her head. Head wounds are so dangerous, you know.”
“Sarah, for God’s sake,” Raine choked out, the horror of the situation too much to comprehend. “You can’t possibly want to go along with this!”
Sarah sounded dazed. “The fire? And the accident? God, Joe, you swore to me you weren’t involved with them! I told you I wouldn’t be a party to anything that would really hurt Raine.” Her voice was beginning to rise. “I told you that from the beginning!”
“You don’t tell me anything!” he lashed out. “If it hadn’t been for me, you’d still be crying in your vodka martinis about your career going to hell. Remember how well you were doing when Harold Bonzer was sponsoring your shows, before he’d ever heard of your dearest friend? You can’t even get a commitment from him to plan another, now that she’s on the scene. Isn’t that what you told me when the money your sculptures brought in started to slow to a trickle? Didn’t you cry and curse Raine Michaels for being the cause of your career drying up?”
The words swirled through Raine’s mind, chasing through the panic-induced fog. “No,” she said disbelievingly. She wished frantically to see Sarah’s face. But the ray of light was the only clue she had to her friend’s location. “That’s not true, Sarah. Tell him. You’ve done great these last few years, you’ve told me yourself.”
“I told you.” Sarah’s laugh sounded a little wild. “That’s just it, don’t you see? But what I told you and what really has been happening are two completely different things. You don’t know how many times I’ve cursed the day you met Harold at one of my shows. He was interested in me. It was my career that was taking off. And then, once he met you, it was all over. He started concentrating on you. Everything was for you.”
“But you just had a show last year,” Raine insisted desperately. Her fear left a cold, metallic taste in her mouth. “Harold sponsored that. He’s still interested in your development as an artist. That proves it.”
“He told her that he wouldn’t be doing another,” Joe said then, his voice tinged with malice. “He was going to concentrate on Raine Michaels. The great Raine Michaels. She thought she was well enough established to make it on her own, but she overestimated herself. My life-style can’t afford another year like the one she just had.”
“But . . .” Sarah’s voice seemed disjointed, coming from the darkness. “This isn’t the way, Joe.”
“It’s exactly the way,” he disputed her words. “Without her to concentrate on, Bonzer will switch his attention back to you again. Especially when you tearfully show him the sculpture you’ll do of your dear friend. The old fool won’t be able to resist it. And when it becomes known that he’s again sponsoring you, the money will start flowing once more.”
Raine shook her head, dazed. “Sarah, I can’t believe you arranged all of this.” She was filled with incredible pain at this evidence of her friend’s deceit.
“No!” Sarah cried, “It’s not my fault! I didn’t mean for all of this to happen!” Joe laughed, an ugly sound. “I told Joe about the letters you were getting. It was my idea to copy them and step up the pace, but I never wanted to hurt you! I just thought you’d be too shaken up to work. And then when your show couldn’t come off on schedule, you’d lose credibility with Harold. He’d turn to me once more.” Her voice turned petulant, colored with hysteria. “You have so much already! I just wanted my turn again!”
Mac was still several yards away from the building when he noted a light in the office. Good girl, he thought with relief. Raine had managed to walk through the dark hallway to the office to get to the lights. He knew the kind of courage that had taken. He’d barely finished the thought when the light went out. He paused, frowning. Though he had the utmost respect for her strength, he couldn’t believe that she would have made a call from her cell in the office and then blithely walk back into the shadows. Something was wrong.
Suddenly the feeling he’d had all night made terrifying sense. In his mind’s eye, he saw the office again when Raine had spoken to André. And remembered the window shade flapping. The window had been open.
He crouched down and sidled along the building to the window. It was still open, and he could hear voices inside. What he heard was enough to curdle his blood.
Damn it, Sarah Jennings was involved in this? He’d never really considered her a serious threat to Raine, but from the conversation drifting through the window, she’d been storing up resentment toward her friend for some time.
He’d heard enough. Turning from his post, he ran softly toward the front of the building. There was no time to waste.
“Forget the acid, we’ll come back for it later,” Joe told his sister impatiently. “Lead the way with that flashlight and let’s find a good place for Raine’s accident.”
The light’s beam turned away from them, and Joe used his grip on Raine’s wrists to propel her forward. The adrenaline that had been pounding through her for the last several minutes had her heart beating wildly in her chest. How long could it be, she wondered wildly, before André or Harold missed her? Had Macauley joined them? She knew without doubt that he would come for her, if he had.
She had to try to buy time, to allow an opportunity for help to arrive. Her body needed no commands from her brain to progress slowly through the hallway. She was encased in her two worst nightmares, and in her panic couldn’t determine whether her greatest fear was the darkness around her or the man behind her.
“Move, bitch,” Joe said in her ear. He
forced her forward more quickly until they were standing with Sarah in a corner of the gallery’s large room. “All right, Sarah, find one of those little tables they have scattered around here. We can arrange the scene to look like she tripped over it.”
The flashlight beam shone in Joe’s face, illuminating Raine’s at the same time. She welcomed the glare in the otherwise dark room.
“I’m not going to let you do this, Joe.” Sarah’s voice sounded thin but determined. “It’s over. It never should have started.”
“Don’t start babbling now,” her brother growled. “It’s over, all right—for Raine Michaels. I’ve already told you how it’s going down. Don’t make me repeat myself, Sarah!”
The beam of light moved away, and Raine could hear something scrape across the marble floor.
“You got it?” Joe asked. “Dammit, give me that light. I can’t see a thing.”
“Sarah, think,” Raine blurted out, still unable to believe the extent of her friend’s duplicity. “Whatever you blame me for, you can’t want me dead! We’ve been too close. For God’s sake, think!”
“She’s right, Joe.” Sarah’s voice wavered. “You know she’s right.”
“There’s no choice now. Do you think she wouldn’t tell what went on tonight? She has to die. And when she does, it won’t be long until the money from your sculptures starts rolling—”
The beam of the flashlight bounced crazily as Sarah brought it down on her brother’s head. Grunting in pain, he stumbled, letting go of his grip on Raine’s hands. With a snarl of rage he turned and backhanded his sister with a vicious slap that sent her reeling. The flashlight flew in an arc across the room, before shattering at its contact with the marble floor.
The gallery was once again completely dark, and Raine started to run for the faint light that beckoned from outside the front doors. She hadn’t gotten more than a few feet before her arm was grabbed and she was pulled backward.
