Pure Dynamite

by Lauren Bach

  Renata tried to rise, but Ethan kept a hand on her shoulder.

  "He's hurt," she said. "Let me check him."

  "He tried to jump the pilot," one of the men explained to Ethan. "Had to cold-cock him."

  "Where are Burt and Nevin?" Willy asked.

  The two men dropped Adam. "There was a problem—"

  "They killed your sons, Willy." Adam's voice was raspy. "Executed both of them. Head shots."

  Behind Willy, Tristin let out an anguished cry. "You motherfucking bastards!"

  Tristin started firing, catching everyone off guard. He shot the two men standing over Adam. Both men fell, dead, as pandemonium broke loose.

  Adam grabbed one of the men's guns and rolled behind a chair. He struggled to sit up, his head throbbing. Renata. He had to save her.

  Almost as quickly as it began, the shots ceased. Easing forward, Adam peered around the chair. On the floor, in pools of blood, were the bodies of Ethan's other man and Tristin McEdwin. Willy had disappeared. So had Zach.

  Ethan stood in the center of the room, one arm around Renata's neck, his gun pointed at her. "Throw your gun out, or she gets it."

  Adam complied. "Let her go."

  "Stand up where I can see you," Ethan ordered.

  "You mean shoot me?"

  "The choice is yours. I can shoot you ... or her."

  Adam stood. Now he saw Zach, sprawled on the ground, his blood staining the floor red. "You'll never get away with this."

  "Wanna bet? I'll be a hero," Ethan laughed. "I killed all the McEdwins—"

  A shot rang out. Renata screamed as Ethan staggered forward.

  "Not all of them," Tristin rasped.

  "Renata, drop!" Adam shouted, but she'd already moved away, giving Adam a clear view of Tristin.

  He was propped on his elbow, his gun now pointed at Adam. Blood oozed from his shoulder. "That was for Burt. This is for Nevin."

  Tristin swung his gun toward Renata.

  Adam lunged toward her, pulling her down, shielding her. Behind him another shot rang out. He braced.

  "I got him." It was Zach's voice. He sounded weak.

  Adam tugged Renata to her feet and rushed to his brother's side.

  Zach waved him back. "Go after Willy. He went upstairs."

  "I'll help him." Renata was already ripping open Zach's shirt. Adam could see his brother had been shot in the side.

  Pausing just long enough make certain all the others were indeed dead, Adam raced up the stairs. He heard voices coming from Lyle's room and eased up to the door.

  "It's over, Willy," Adam shouted. "Give up peacefully."

  "You can come on in," Willy replied.

  Cautious, Adam stayed behind the wall, and shoved the door open. Angling slightly, he saw Willy standing next to Lyle's bed.

  "Lay down your weapon and put your hands where I can see them," Adam ordered.

  Willy nodded, but didn't move. "Where's Tristin?"

  "He's been shot, too."

  Willy's shoulders dropped, shook with noiseless sobs. Moving slowly, he stepped away from the bed. Then he put his gun on the dresser and raised his hands. "Were you telling me the truth down there? Nevin and Burt... they're really gone?"

  "Yes."

  Now Willy's voice cracked. "They were good boys. They kept their word."

  Behind him, Lyle moaned. "That. . . fucking . . . oath. McEdwins ... never get taken alive."

  Adam watched in surprise as Lyle drew a gun from beneath the sheet.

  "Drop it, Lyle!" Adam quickly took cover. But instead of pointing the gun at him, Lyle had pointed it toward his father.

  Willy's mouth gaped. "What are you doing?"

  "Helping you keep your word, too." Lyle fired once and dropped the gun. It slid to the floor.

  Clutching his chest, Willy fell.

  Cursing, Adam moved quickly, kicking the gun away before kneeling beside Willy. The old man gasped, then closed his eyes and simply quit breathing.

  Lyle had passed out. Checking him for more weapons, Adam collected the firearms and raced back downstairs. Zach was propped up, Renata beside him talking quietly into a cell phone.

  "She called 911," Zach groaned. "I heard a shot. You get Willy?"

  "Lyle did. You okay?"

  "Okay? I was shot. That's never okay."

  "He'll survive. I've stopped the bleeding." Renata hurried to Adam's side. "Your head is bleeding, too."

  "Lucky I've got a thick skull."

  "The police are on the way," she said. "I told them we need ambulances, preferably medivac helicopters. Is ... Lyle dead?"

  "No. But he needs immediate transport."

  "So it's over?" she asked. "And you'll tell me everything?"

  "Everything." Including how much he loved her.

  Epilogue

  Six months later

  "I... can't... breathe." Renata's ribcage felt dangerously compressed.

  "Don't use your diaphragm; inhale through your nose," Janet advised.

  "But my liver—"

  "You know, I never took you for such a whiner. And I'm almost finished. There. Now turn around and look."

  Renata gasped. The woman in the mirror looked like she'd just stepped out of an X-rated magazine. The black lace corset, with its lace-up boning, had her waist cinched tight, which in turn thrust her breasts up and out at an unnatural angle. Beribboned straps of satin snaked down her thighs to grasp silk stockings. And the four- inch stilettos ... hurt.

  "I can't do this," Renata began. "It's too out of character for me."

  "Duh! That's the whole point of role playing, girlfriend. And there's no time for second thoughts. We have five minutes. Hold still!" Janet fastened an elaborate jet and black crystal choker around Renata's neck, then handed her matching dangling earrings. "Put these on and do your lipstick. I'll finish lighting candles on my way out."

  "Wait! Tell me again what Zach said." Adam's—Jake's brother had called while Renata was in the shower and left a cryptic message with Janet.

  "He said your package would be delivered at seven," Janet said. "Which means now you've only got four minutes."

  Renata panicked. What had seemed like a wonderful idea a week ago now seemed harebrained.

  Jake had been on the west coast the last four months, working undercover out of the Seattle office. She understood it was what he did, but still she'd been glad to hear the job had ended.

  After returning from Willy's compound, they'd stayed in touch, talking mostly by phone. The awkwardness, the anger, she had expected to feel toward him never surfaced. And while Jake lived in Baltimore, he'd flown to Durham several times. For dates. He'd brought her roses. Taken her to dinner. And was a perfect gentleman.

  "We'll take it slow this time," he insisted. "To make certain your feelings are real."

  Then he'd been temporarily assigned to Seattle. The distance, the time apart, indeed made her heart grow fonder. She'd counted hours until he came back to Baltimore, secretly determined that his days as a gentleman were over. And then he'd called, wanted to fly to Durham to see her.

  Renata had enlisted Janet's help in planning a special night. Janet had come up with a role-playing, kidnap-your-lover-for-a-night-of-ecstasy idea. Turnabout's fair play had been her logic. "He kidnapped you first, right?"

  Janet had offered to meet Jake's plane and abduct him, but at the last minute, Renata had decided to askZach for help with the actual faux kidnapping. To keep it a surprise. Jake would have suspected something if Janet had showed up at the airport. Zach had agreed to have his brother picked up in a limo, then blindfolded and brought to her door.

  "I owe you a favor," Zach had said. "Remember?"

  Renata had stayed with Zach after he'd been shot in Idaho. Fortunately, his wound had been minor. And she hadn't said anything when he'd slipped away from the emergency room before authorities could question him.

  She understood that Zach's background was checkered, his past dark. Jake promised to explain it some day. Some day s
oon, she thought, recalling the news she'd received earlier in the week.

  Lyle McEdwin, the only surviving member of his family, had recovered and ended up accepting a plea bargain to avoid the death penalty. He'd been given a life sentence, with no chance of parole, for murdering his father. There would be no trial.

  Thanks to Stan and Willy's files, Ethan Falco's tangled past was neatly documented. With Falco dead more people came forward with accusations, prompting a congressional investigation. An ugly chapter of history was about to be closed.

  All that remained now was for her to convince Jake that she truly cared for him. The circumstances of their meeting be damned.

  "I'm out of here," Janet shouted from the living room. "You've got thirty seconds!" The front door slammed.

  Renata walked—carefully—into her living room. She didn't recognize it. With the help of a hundred strategically placed candles, and four miles of thumb- tacked gossamer netting, Janet had converted her apartment into a gauzy fantasy.

  "God, what was I thinking?" She grabbed a piece of the netting and yanked it down just as the doorbell rang. "Great!"

  There was no turning back now. Squaring her shoulders, she went to the door, glanced out the peephole.

  And nearly died. Two men stood outside, one with a bouquet of flowers. The bell rang again. Damn it! She needed to get rid of them before Jake arrived.

  Grabbing a trench coat from the hall closet, she threw it over the corset and yanked open the door. The wind blew snow inside. It wasn't supposed to start snowing until later, which gave her hope that Adam's plane would be delayed.

  "Renata Curtis? We got a delivery for you. From a Zach Ryan."

  Puzzled, she accepted the flowers.

  The man nodded his head to one side. "Where do you want this?"

  She looked around the corner, saw a rolled up carpet. A very large carpet... lumpy ... complete with bare feet sticking out one end.

  "Oh no! Get him inside. It's freezing out here!"

  The men picked up either end of the rug, and carried it inside.

  "Get him out of there. Now!"

  "Yes, ma'am." The men held the edge of the rug and let the rest drop. Jake hit the ground and rolled across the floor, his hands and feet bound, duct tape over his mouth.

  Renata dropped to her knees, and tried to pry the tape loose. One of the deliverymen bent over and ripped the tape free in a single yank. "It hurts less thatway."

  "The hell it does," Jake growled. "And quit looking at her!"

  Renata glanced down, noticed the front of her coat had come open. She snatched the edges together.

  "If you don't mind, we'll leave before you untie him." Grinning, the men took the carpet and left. "Zach sends his regards, by the way."

  "Tell my brother to watch his back," Jake snarled at the slamming door. "Untie me."

  Renata grabbed a kitchen knife and began sawing through the cords. "This was not supposed to happen."

  The gold flecks in his eyes glittered dangerously. "Don't tell me you're dressed like that for someone else?"

  She shook her head. "It was for you. I was ... trying to get you here for a romantic fantasy, but I see now it wasn't such a great idea."

  Free of the rope, Jake stood. Grasping the lapels of her coat, he opened if and stared. "Anything that involves you in black lace is a great idea. So exactly what was this fantasy?" He looked around her apartment, seeing it for the first time. "And what's burning?"

  Renata caught a whiff of smoke and turned. The piece of netting she'd torn loose had blown too close to a candle and was now going up in flames, melting and crackling like spun sugar.

  Jake reacted swiftly, vaulting over the sofa and yanking the netting down from the ceiling. Blazing pieces dropped to the carpet. Renata took off her coat and smothered the flames just as the smoke alarm started beeping.

  Swearing under her breath, she wrenched open the French doors that led to the small second story balcony and began fanning her arms. Her apartment smelled like burnt nylon, the smoke thick and acrid.

  "Come on," Jake pulled her outside, onto the balcony. "Flames are out but those fumes will kill us."

  Renata sucked in frigid air, coughing as the corset hampered her ability to draw a deep breath.

  In the distance, sirens echoed.

  "The smoke alarms. They're wired into the alarm system," she said. "I need to get dressed before they— tell me you didn't shut the door all the way."

  Jake hovered close, caught her chin. "Why?"

  She reached behind him, tried the doorknob. "Because it locks automatically."

  Fire trucks roared into the complex, their sirens growing louder. They'd be there any moment. Mortified, Renata closed her eyes. "Do you have any idea if Mercury went retrograde today?"

  Jake laughed and brushed snow from her hair. She had no business being outside, dressed like this. Dressed like this, she should be in his bedroom.

  "I can't believe you did all this for me."

  She frowned. "Well, believe me, it won't happen again."

  "God, I hope you're joking." He ran a hand along the top of the corset, his fingers brushing the swells of her breasts.

  Removing his shirt, he pulled it over her shoulders. It went to her knees. He would have preferred it went to her ankles, but it would do until the fireman freed them. He tugged her into his arms.

  "I don't know about retrogrades, but my horoscope said I'd find love today. I always thought those columns in the paper were kinda lame ... until now. I love you, Renata."

  A ladder crashed against the side rail of her balcony. A moment later a fireman appeared. "You folks okay?"

  She smiled. "We're perfect."

  * * *