by Rebecca York
“My best guess? Either the cops or the guy who’s been trying to contact Raymond—Freemont. How long do we have to get ready—if it’s him?” Brand asked.
“It’s a big car, and the curves in the road are slowing it down. I’d say we have about twenty minutes before they get here.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I’m not betting on the cops,” Brand said. “This was a completely illegal operation. Nobody here was going to call in the cavalry—before they ran away.”
“I agree,” Ben answered. “Plus, if they thought something bad was going on up here, they wouldn’t send one car to an isolated location like this. And the vehicle’s not police issue. It’s a honking big Caddy.”
Brand crossed to the phone and scrolled through caller I.D. He saw several recent calls from Gary Freemont, starting before Brand and Tory had busted out of the facility.
“Freemont’s been calling with increasing frequency.”
“Can we listen to what he said?” Tory asked.
Brand shook his head. “We’d need a password to access the messages, but I’m betting Freemont was pressing for progress reports.” He checked the time stamps. “A lot of the calls came in after we forced Raymond to leave at gunpoint. Now Freemont is coming here to see why the doctor blew him off.”
Tory looked on the verge of panic. Then her expression changed. “We have a helicopter,” she said in a breathless voice. “We can get out of here before he arrives.”
“We don’t know what kind of firepower he’s packing,” Brand answered.
“Something that could shoot down a helicopter?” she asked.
“Probably not. But we’d be making ourselves vulnerable. And we’ve got an advantage if we stay here.”
“Like what?”
“I want to nail the bastard who hired a quack to make you think you were crazy.”
“He’ll see the helicopter,” Tory answered.
“Raymond could have a helo, for all this guy knows” Brand said.
“We’d better hustle,” Ben said.
Brand turned to him. “Right. You close the gate, then open it like you’re the guard when Freemont gets here.” He ushered Tory back to the office where Raymond had set it up like a place to see patients. “You will be sitting in one of the office chairs, playing like you’re drugged and out of it.”
She looked like she wanted to tell him to do it himself. Then with a sigh, she sat down.
He reached for the Glock he’d stuck in his waistband and handed it to Tory. “Have you shot one of these before?”
“No.”
“Well, you probably won’t have to. But just in case—there’s no safety on a Glock. You just put your finger inside the trigger guard and squeeze.”
She looked doubtful but took the weapon and wedged it down between her thigh and the inside arm of the chair.
Brand heard Cole coming downstairs, and the four Decorah agents stepped into the hall where they could confer in private.
Frank looked at Brand. “I can play Freemont. From the correspondence, I’m assuming Freemont and Raymond never met in person. But Raymond’s picture might have been available.”
“Just tell him you never put your real picture online. Let him think you’re paranoid.”
“Now the big question,” Cole said. “Do we use two wolves or one?”
Brand was torn but said, “I think I have to stay in human form. Tory will expect to see me here.”
“Too bad you haven’t told her yet.”
Brand gave him a hard look. “And you’re telling me you rushed to give Emma the news?”
“No,” the other werewolf clipped out.
“Let’s stay focused on the current situation,” Frank reminded his shape-shifters.
Both men answered with tight nods.
They continued to speak quickly, all of them used to working together in developing and improvising tactical plans.
Brand returned to look at Tory, who was sitting in the chair with her head slipping to the side.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“No. But I guess I have to be.”
Frank cleared his throat. “I may have to fake a session with you.”
Her gaze zeroed in on him. “Maybe you should tell me what I’m going to reveal to you.”
“Think of a plausible hiding place and tell me that’s where the money is stashed.”
“Okay.”
Brand wanted to go to her, but he knew they were on a deadline. “Sit tight,” he said as he followed Frank out of the room.
He, Frank, and Cole went to the front hall to wait for the mobster.
When the car pulled up in front of the fake clinic, Brand held his breath as he waited to see who got out.
First came two tough-looking guys in the front. One was the driver, who walked around to the right passenger door and opened it.
A short, dark man wearing a well-cut suit who appeared to be in his late fifties or early sixties got out of the back.
Okay, Brand thought. Freemont and two bodyguards.
He studied the guards. Both were tall, well-built and probably in their thirties. Old enough to know what they were doing but young enough to have a lot of physical reserve. One was going bald and had shaved the rest of the hair on his head. The other had a thick blond mop. Both were wearing suits, undoubtedly to hide the guns they were carrying.
After taking their measure, Brand focused on Freemont. He had a full head of hair that had turned gray at the temples. The solid darkness of the rest signaled that the color had come out of a bottle. His suit was more expensive than those of his men. His face was ruddy, like he spent a lot of time at the bar and in the sun.
Was he armed, too? Or was he depending on these guys in case there was any trouble.
Frank stayed at the top of the steps.
“Freemont?”
The other man nodded.
“Glad to finally meet you in person,” he said, and Brand waited to see if the man was going to say they’d had drinks in New York or something.
The mobster kept his gaze fixed on Frank. And his next comment told everyone that he and Dr. Raymond had never connected in person. “You don’t look anything like your photograph.”
Frank laughed. “A little strategy of mine. I never put out my real image.”
Freemont nodded, still studying Frank. “I tried to call you several times, but you didn’t answer. Would you mind telling me what’s going on?”
“I was working with our patient, and I had left instructions not to be disturbed. The staff is very good about not interrupting when I’m working.”
“Okay,” the mobster said.
“We’ve had a real breakthrough. I’m sure you’ll want to hear what she has to say. Come inside.”
He turned and entered the front hall as though he owned the place. And at the moment, he did.
Freemont followed. When his driver and bodyguard moved to keep pace,” Frank held up his hand. “Inside, you’re going to hear proprietary information.”
“My men don’t care about that. They go with me.”
Frank kept his gaze steady. “They may not care, but I do. I’m sorry. You are the only visitor I can allow to see the patient.”
Brand watched the mobster considering the statement. Finally he gave a quick nod. “All right. But this better be good.”
“You’re going to love it. She’s like a lamb eating out of my hand.”
“I’d like to see that.”
Frank held out his arm in a grand gesture. “This way. I was going to invite you up here myself. You came at an excellent time.”
Freemont followed him inside and down the hall, glancing into the common room and the dining room. “Quite a place you have here.”
Frank shrugged. “I like comfortable working conditions. They help me get into the right mood for breakthrough discoveries.”
Brand glanced at him, thinking he might be laying it on a bit thick, but Freemont seemed to be eating it up.
&
nbsp; As they walked, Cole detached himself from the group and walked back toward the kitchen.
The mob boss was still focused on Frank. “How much did you pay for this place?”
The Decorah director didn’t miss a beat. “I got it cheap. The owner committed suicide in the parlor, and nobody wanted the property.”
“Oh,” Freemont answered.
“Let’s recap,” Frank said. “You wanted to know where Denato is keeping his money.”
“Not his money. My money! He cheated me out of millions, and I know the bastard doesn’t trust banks. It’s got to be in his condo.”
Frank led the way to the office where Tory was sitting in the chair with her head lolling to the side.
She looked up languidly when the men entered the room.
“How are feeling, Tory?” Frank asked.
“Very good,” she said in a slurred voice that made Brand’s stomach clench. This must be the way she’d looked and sounded when the real doctor had drugged her. Turning her head, she looked at Freemont with a puzzled expression. “Who are you?”
“He’s a colleague of mine,” Frank said.
“I thought he might be a new patient,” Tory answered in the same spacey tone.
“We were talking about Johnny Denato,” Frank said.
“Yes.”
“You were his mistress, right?”
Brand saw Tory stiffen.
“It’s all right to admit that,” Frank said in a soothing voice. “Nobody is going to think less of you.”
“It was supposed to be a secret,” Tory answered.
“You and I have no secrets,” Frank said. “Do we?”
“No,” Tory agreed, continuing the masterful performance.
“We understand each other very well.”
“Yes,” Tory agreed again.
But the little play was interrupted by the sound of gunshots from outside.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Freemont’s reflexes were excellent. As he heard the exchange of gunfire, he did two things almost simultaneously. He reached for Tory, snatched her up and clamped her against his chest as he pulled a gun from inside his coat, which he held against his captive’s neck.
She gasped, and the sick look on her face made Brand’s throat clog. The scam had been working perfectly. Then everything had gone to hell in the space of a few seconds.
“Make the wrong move, and she dies,” the gangster said.
“And you won’t get the information you want,” Frank said, his tone icy.
Brand spared him a quick glance. If he didn’t know better, he’d think that the Decorah owner was prepared to sacrifice Tory.
“What the fuck is going on?” Freemont asked.
Neither Frank nor Brand answered.
“And what do you know about it?” he asked, directing the question to Tory.
“Are you here to save me?” she asked in a thin voice.
“Save you?”
“You came to help me, right?”
Brand gave a tiny nod. Way to go, he thought. That ought to confuse the bastard.
“I said, what’s going on?” Freemont said. As he spoke, he took a step backwards, pulling Tory along with him.
She looked scared but determined.
There was utter silence outside now.
“I know you two are carrying. I want you to drop your weapons. First Raymond and then you,” he said to Brand before turning back to Frank. “Ease your gun out of your holster or pocket. Hold the butt between your thumb and finger, then drop the weapon.”
When Frank had complied, Freemont looked at Brand. “Now you.”
Brand had given his gun to Tory. “I’m not armed.”
“Why not?”
“House rules,” Frank said. “He was in too close proximity to the patient.”
Freemont’s eyes narrowed, but he apparently accepted the explanation, at least about the weapons. “What is this—some kind of scam? You told me you could get the information I wanted so you could lure me up here?”
“You came up here on your own,” Frank said in a level voice.
“And now what just happened outside?”
“I have no idea. Maybe your guys started something?”
“For no reason? I rather doubt it. But we’re going out and have a look.” He gestured with his head. “Over there, or I shoot the girl.”
Both Brand and Frank moved to the side of the room the mob boss had indicated.
Brand’s gaze flicked from Tory to the chair. His gun was wedged beside the cushion. But he couldn’t get to it with Freemont holding a weapon to his lifemate’s neck.
He prayed she was going to be okay. Christ, what had happened outside to fuck up their well-oiled charade?
A low, ominous growling noise in back of Freemont made him stop in his tracks and half glance around to see what was back there.
Knowing it was Cole in wolf form, Brand took advantage of the distraction and leaped toward the man, knocking his gun away from Tory.
Freemont whipped the gun toward him and fired, but Brand had already come in low, then jerked the man’s gun arm up. He shot himself in the chest, and the mobster went still.
Brand grabbed the gun as Cole backed away.
Frank had already grabbed Tory and pulled her behind himself.
It was over in seconds.
Cole trotted toward the back of the house and disappeared. Brand rushed to Tory and took her in his arms. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
When footsteps pounded down the hall, Brand reached to snatch the gun he’d just put down.
But it was Ben.
“What the hell happened?” Brand spat out.
“The bodyguards were taking a look around—and stumbled over a body.”
“Shit. Who the hell was it?”
“I just took a look,” Ben answered. “I’d say—it’s the cook.”
“I guess he got in the way when Raymond’s men were desperate to split.”
“Freemont’s guys came back at me and started shooting,” Ben continued his explanation. “I ducked behind their car and returned fire. They’re dead.”
Brand turned to Tory, who had a puzzled look on her face.
“What?”
“It sounded like an animal was in back of Freemont.”
There was a long moment of silence as Brand tried to figure out what to say. He was saved by Cole who must have changed to human form and pulled on his clothing in record time. His gaze flicked to Brand and back to Tory. “Actually, it was me. I’m really good at animal sounds.”
“I would have sworn it was a wolf,” Tory said, glancing at Brand.
“But you couldn’t see him, right?” he asked.
“No. But I saw a wolf looking at me when I was on the balcony that first night.”
“I guess there are some of them around here,” Brand said, feeling Cole’s eyes on him. What did his cousin expect him to do, confess to being a werewolf in front of an audience?
Frank stepped out of the room to make a couple of phone calls. When he returned, he jumped back into the conversation. “We should get out of here while the getting’s good.”
Tory cleared her throat. “What . . . uh . . . about the bodies strewn around?”
“A cleanup crew is already on the way,” Frank answered.
“And I’ll take Raymond’s computer,” Brand said. “I’d like to understand this whole plot better. Too bad Freemont’s thugs stumbled on that body before we finished the conversation.
Brand checked the doctor’s password file and swore. “Apparently he got into the system with ‘mastermanipulator.’”
“Nice,” Tory murmured.
He turned off the machine and closed it up.
As they started down the hall, Tory asked, “Where are we going?”
“First to Decorah Security headquarters. Then to one of our safe houses.”
She drew in a quick breath. “You think I’m still in danger.”
“
I’m not taking any chances with you.”
Probably she’d like to ask, “And then what?”
But he thought she didn’t want to have a private conversation now any more than he did.
This time, there was no need for Brand to give directions. He sat in the middle of the backseat, between Tory and Cole, while Frank took the copilot’s seat; and Ben assumed the pilot’s position again.
As they flew toward Maryland, Brand felt Tory’s head drift to his shoulder. He looked over and saw she was sleeping, which was good. She’d been through a hell of a lot in the past few days, and he knew she needed to rest.
As they came down on the helipad next to the office, she woke again and looked around, not exactly at ease.
While he’d been sitting in the backseat of the helo with Tory, Brand had been texting Frank in the front, going over further plans. Frank had given him the use of a house in the rural part of Montgomery County.
“I need the keys to the place where we’re staying,” Brand said to Tory when they exited.
“You’re staying with me?”
“Of course. Unless you don’t want me there,” he forced himself to add.
“Of course I want you there.”
“Good.”
Frank had also texted the office, and Teddy Granada, one of the IT guys came out with the keys to the safe house, along with a set of car keys, since his vehicle was still up at the Finger Lakes National Park.
“We’ll send someone up there to put on new tires and drive it back,” Frank said.
“Appreciate it.”
He and Tory got into the company car and started off. He could tell she wasn’t entirely comfortable. They’d met under pretty strange—and intense—circumstances. Now she could be having second thoughts about going off alone with him. Which was another good reason for staying away from the subject of werewolves.
When he sighed, she must have heard him.
“What?”
“I wish we had more information about Freemont—and Denato.”
“You can get more, can’t you?” she asked.
“Yeah. I think Frank already put Teddy on it. He’s the guy who delivered the keys.”
“The one who looks like he slept in his clothes for the past few days?”
Brand laughed. “Yeah, but he’s the best IT guy in the business.”
