by Davis, Jo
The barmaid returned and Shea ordered a glass of white wine. Howard and Tommy sauntered over, and Cori caught the very interested gleam in the younger man’s pale eyes as he studied Shea. Howard spoke first.
“Man, the girls kicked our butts. Winners play.” Noticing Shea, the lieutenant cocked his head. “Hello, I’m Howard. You look really familiar.”
Shea’s merry attitude sobered a bit. “My twin brother’s a detective. He worked your case a few months ago. Not that Shane blabbed about you or the details, but I read the papers—”
“Your brother is Shane Ford?” Howard gave her a brilliant smile. “Any sister of his is a friend of mine and Kat’s.”
The server handed Shea her glass of wine and left. Shea looked up at the big man, hesitant. “That’s nice of you to say, but . . .” She bit her lip, then sighed. “My brother still has nightmares about your shooting. He blames himself for what happened to you.”
Howard looked stunned. “Christ, why? He did everything he could to break the case. Nobody could’ve predicted what was going down.”
“Well, that’s my brother. He feels like he failed.”
“No way in hell. I’ll tell him myself.”
“Just don’t mention I said anything, if you don’t mind.”
“I won’t,” the lieutenant promised. “Thanks for telling me.”
Tommy cleared his throat. “Do I get an introduction to the new babe?”
Shea stiffened, and Cori smirked inwardly as she and her friend exchanged a knowing look. Hollywood beautiful or not, Shea had a real problem with exactly Tommy’s type: immature, ruled by his libido, and he possessed a vocabulary that included words like “dude” and “babe.”
“I’m Shea,” she said coolly. She did not, Cori noted, extend her hand, as she’d done to greet Zack.
“Tommy Skyler.” His open, infectious grin seemed to have no positive effect on the object of his attentions. He was nothing, however, if not persistent. “Any good at pool?”
She gazed up at him from under her lashes. Took a leisurely sip of her wine. “I hold my own.”
Everyone knew she wasn’t referring to pool. The line was drawn in the sand. She wasn’t the least bit impressed by his boyish charm, and made no bones about it. They all watched, avid spectators as the couple thrust and parried.
“Want to go a round?” His voice, low and sexy, dripped with the double entendre.
“No, thank you.”
“Afraid you’ll lose?”
She rolled her shoulders back, lifted her chin. “I’m an ER nurse. Very little frightens me.”
“Except a simple game of pool.”
Touché. In a blinding moment of clarity, Cori knew this man wasn’t the dumb pretty boy he let everyone believe. She wondered if Shea noticed, too.
Apparently so. Her friend’s lips curved in challenge. “Let’s play.”
Wolf whistles followed them as Tommy took her hand and led her to another open table. Picking up on her misgivings, Zack squeezed Cori’s hand.
“Don’t worry; she’ll be fine with Tommy.”
“She’d better be, or Shane will go Hannibal Lecter on his ass. And it won’t be his brains the man will be feeding him.”
He hugged her close, planting a sweet kiss on her lips. “I love you.”
“Trying to distract me?”
“Is it working?”
Snuggling into his side, she laid her head on his shoulder. “Absolutely. I love you, too.”
“God, enough with the mushy crap,” Howard grumbled, taking an empty seat.
Zack snickered. “Says Mr. Studly Groom. Still having Kat swab antiseptic on those scratch marks on your back, big guy?”
Howard gave him a toothy smile that looked decidedly dangerous, and flexed his arms, making his biceps and massive chest strain in his T-shirt. “Careful, my friend. I’d hate to have to break you in half just when we got you put together again.”
The evening passed quickly, the guys bullshitting one another with gusto. Everyone had fun, even Julian and Carmelita, who eventually loosened up and joined in a few rounds of pool and darts. Everyone except Sean, who stayed too quiet and drank too much . . . and stared at Eve with a mixture of longing, anger, and a load of confusion.
That can’t be good. But since she didn’t know Zack’s friends very well yet, it wasn’t her place to voice an opinion.
Squinting one eye shut, Cori aimed a dart at the target a few yards away. She let the little missile fly, and huffed as it buried itself in the wall a good three feet to the right of the target.
“Well, damn! I aimed right at the bull’s-eye.”
Beside her, Zack laughed and put both arms around her shoulders, giving her a fierce hug. “How about a dart contest? Loser has to strip for the winner when we get home.”
“I already gave you a show.” Turning, she leered at Zack. “It’s your turn.”
“Oh, boy. Time to go.” He cupped her chin, love shining in his blue eyes. “I’ve been practicing my act, you know.”
Grinning, she pressed against the part of him that liked the suggestion. A lot. “Now you’re talking. Take me home and seduce me, handsome.”
Quickly, he said their good-byes. The men shook hands with Zack, clapping his back, and the women hugged Cori. She felt incredibly at peace. Shea embraced her last, and Cori frowned in sudden concern.
“I don’t like leaving you here.”
Flushing, her friend gestured to her new admirer hovering in the background. “Tommy said he’d make sure I got to my car safely. You two go on—I’m having fun.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I’ll call you,” she whispered in a conspiratorial voice.
“Details?”
“You bet!”
“Girls,” Zack muttered. “Come on, baby.”
He put an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him, encircling his trim waist as he steered them toward the exit. They stepped into the brisk February night, and the clean air, the smell of the nearby Cumberland River, shocked her senses like a slap after the dingy atmosphere of the pool joint.
She breathed in a lungful of cool air, and caught a whiff of Zack’s spicy cologne, as well. He was warm, strong, and solid against her side. Hers.
Suddenly there was nothing she wanted more in the world than his body covering hers. Around and inside her, making sweet love to her all night long. No scarves or props. They’d make their own music, together.
“Zack?”
“Hmm?”
“When do I get my surprise? The one you’ve been working on?”
She could practically feel his radiant smile as he answered. “In the morning, when the sun comes up.”
“Why do I have to wait? And why so early?”
He chuckled. “You’ll see, beautiful.”
“Good. Because I have a surprise for you, too.”
“Give me a hint?”
“No way.”
They headed around the side of the building toward the far end of the parking lot, shoes crunching on the gravel. Anticipation of getting him home and in bed hurried her steps.
“Going to a fire?” he teased.
“Nope, that’s your job. Mine is to get you naked as soon as possible.”
“If you don’t fall asleep first.”
“Ha! You just wait—”
Coming to an abrupt halt, he removed his arm from her shoulder and took her hand. Tugged as though in warning. “Hang on a sec.”
Blinking, she glanced around the parking lot crowded with vehicles. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s too dark out here.”
“It’s after midnight, silly.”
“That’s not what I mean.” He stayed put, scanning the lot.
Every muscle in his body seemed spring-loaded. Alert. His intensity made her nervous, and the prickle at her nape sent a trill of fear down her spine.
“Zack, where’s your car?”
He pointed into the shadows. “Right over there.�
��
“Where—oh, I see it, barely.” She shuddered, yanking at him, anxious to be gone. “Come on.”
“No, wait.” After a brief silence, he pointed to the side of the building, then to the three poles spread at intervals throughout the lot. “The lights are out. All of them.”
“Power outage?”
“Broken.”
She saw it then. The shards of glass glittering in the moonlight on the walk next to the building. “Zack . . .”
“Okay,” he said quietly. “Let’s go inside and give the management a heads-up about the lights. We’ll wait until some of the others are ready—”
“The waiting game is over,” a voice sneered from behind them.
His voice.
They spun together and Zack pushed her behind him, shielding her with his body. Cori looked past him to the man standing just a few feet from them, and clutched at Zack’s shirt.
“Oh, God, Zack!” The glint of a gun barrel was trained on the center of Zack’s chest, cold and menacing in the man’s hand.
Terror injected her blood with ice. She took in the man’s form, so familiar . . . and yet not. He was tall and lithe, but the long blond hair was history. Instead, dark locks were shorn close to his head, lending his face a much rougher, sinister appearance.
“Figured it out yet, darling? Do you know who I am?”
His voice. It wasn’t quite right, and neither was his facial structure. A few adjustments to the nose, forehead, and cheekbones and she’d almost believe . . .
“No,” she whispered in horror. “You can’t be.”
“Who can’t I be, Corrine?” He laughed, enjoying this. “Satan himself? Your worst nightmare risen from the bowels of hell?”
If she hadn’t been hanging on to Zack, she would’ve fallen. Her knees turned to water, her heart ready to explode.
“Alex.”
Zack sucked in a sharp breath, and let it out on a vicious curse, keeping her firmly behind him. “Stay the fuck away from her, asshole.”
“Oh, I don’t think so. Cori dearest has something belonging to me.” Alex waved the gun, leering in the darkness.
“And unless she’s ready to see her lover die, she’s got about fifty million and one reasons to cooperate. Turn around and start walking.”
18
Zack kept Cori in front of him as they walked toward the very back of the parking lot, their captor behind him. Rage and fear roiled in his stomach, and he was sick with the need to kill this sonofabitch before he hurt her.
He didn’t believe for one second this man was her deceased husband risen from the dead. She’d spent time with him as Tony. She would’ve known. A mannerism, a phrase. He couldn’t have hidden forever behind a new face. Plastic surgery covered the skin, not the rotten soul underneath.
She was shocked and afraid. When her mind cleared, she’d realize this man wasn’t Alex. But who the fuck was he?
Someone who not only desired her fifty million but clearly believed he had the right to the fortune. That alone made him extremely dangerous.
As they reached the edge of the lot, the man’s order broke the silence. “Keep going to the tree line, to the van parked there.”
Once he got them in the vehicle and away from here, their chances of survival dropped dramatically. Those grim figures danced in Zack’s brain, but he shoved them away. One split second. All he needed to go for the gun, tackle “Alex,” and allow Cori to run back to the bar for help. The man couldn’t possibly keep an eye on both of them, especially in the dark.
But as they reached the old van, their situation plunged to a new low. The bastard had thought out his plan well. Skirting his captives, he laid the keys to the van on the hood and backed away.
“Cori, you’ll drive,” he snapped. “I’ll ride in the front passenger seat. But first, I want your boyfriend to open the side door and buckle himself into one of the middle seats.”
Damn, he’d covered almost every angle. But maybe I can attack him from behind. Get the gun or strangle his sorry ass.
It might work. He climbed into the old bucket seat directly behind the passenger’s spot and buckled his seat belt, tensed and ready for an opportunity to strike. The gun was trained on Cori now, to ensure his cooperation as she and Alex climbed in.
At the man’s nod, Cori started the van. Zack was working on the best method of attack when Alex turned in his seat, his grin feral and ominous in the overhead light inside the vehicle.
“Here, lover boy. Catch.”
Something light bounced off Zack’s chest and landed in his lap. Puzzled, he looked down—to see a syringe filled with clear liquid. His blood ran cold and he scrambled to come up with a way out of this. He’d stick it in their captor instead—
“I’d put a bullet between your eyes before you finished your swing,” the man broke into his thoughts, pointing the muzzle at Zack’s head. “Inject the drug into your vein, my friend. Every drop.”
“No.”
“What’s in the needle won’t kill you, but the bullet will. Do you want your sweetie to see your brains splatter all over the interior of the van, all over her? To endure this very long night with your death on her conscience?”
Oh, sweet Jesus. Help us. “You’re going to kill us both anyway.”
“True, but if you choose to die now, I suppose I should tell you what I’ll do to her after you’re dead. After she transfers the money to my account, I’ll ride her. Hard. All night long. She’ll scream underneath me, but you won’t know, will you? She’ll cry and beg for mercy—”
“Shut the fuck up.” Zack’s fist closed around the syringe. Rage shredded his soul and he fought for reason. Control. This man wanted him alive to play him and Cori against each other. It sucked, but he had no choice. Playing along might buy them some time.
Hands amazingly steady, he uncapped the needle.
“Zack, no,” Cori begged. “Please don’t!”
He didn’t look at her as he extended his arm. Pressed the tip of the needle into a bluish vein at the crook of his elbow. Pushed the unknown substance into his bloodstream, every last bit.
Fire and ice zipped through his system, stealing his breath. He gasped, his heart accelerating. His body went limp and the syringe slipped from his deadened fingers.
Alex leered, pure evil. “Of course, I might have lied.”
No! God help me. . . . Cori . . .
His vision grayed and went black.
The last sound he heard was Cori’s frantic cries chasing him into oblivion.
Cori watched, horrified, as Zack’s eyes closed. His arm flopped to hang beside him, the syringe on the van’s floor at his fingertips.
I might have lied.
“Zack? Zack!” A scream welled in her chest, erupted from the core of her being. She faced Alex, wild fear ripping her apart. “Is he dead? Because if he is, I don’t care what happens to me! Your precious money can rot for all I care, you filthy animal!”
The open-handed slap on her cheek snapped her head back, made her see stars. Brought her to her senses. She had to think.
No, he wouldn’t have killed Zack yet. He needed her cooperation to get the money.
“May I check his pulse?” It galled her to ask, but thankfully, he consented.
“No sudden moves.”
She nodded, biting off a smart-ass retort. Twisting, she reached for Zack’s dangling arm, taking his wrist between her fingers. There. Relief flooded her, and she carefully shifted his arm, putting his hand in his lap, before turning to grip the steering wheel.
“Where to?”
“Good girl. Drive to the road and take a right.”
Cori followed his directions, praying Shea or one of Zack’s friends would exit the bar and see the van leaving. No one did.
Disheartened, she drove out of town, doubt clawing at hope with every mile. About twenty minutes into the drive, he directed her to turn left onto a bumpy county road. Deeper into the hills they penetrated, leaving civilization behind, th
e skeletal branches of the winter forest like bony fingers beckoning her and Zack to their graves.
At last, he directed her to a driveway leading to a log cabin set back in the woods, modest though not run-down. A light glowed in one window.
Will we leave here alive?
An image of Alex burying their bodies in the earth somewhere in the hills beyond gripped her with fear, and she shoved it aside. Calm. He won’t kill you until he gets the money.
Which was why she’d not give in.
“Get out, nice and slow. You and I are going to go inside.”
“Wh-what about Zack?”
“Shut up and you’ll find out.”
Cori got out and stumbled on shaking legs to the front of the van. Alex met her, keeping the gun trained in her direction. He waggled the weapon toward the house, so she walked. Across the uneven yard and onto the front porch, hating that she had to leave Zack even for a few minutes. Then again, maybe he’d wake up and escape. Get to the highway, flag down a car.
Right. The drug had probably leveled him for hours.
“Inside.”
He flung open the door and she walked in ahead of him. Looked like he’d been living here, using the cabin as his home base. The furniture was a bit sparse, but the place was actually sort of nice.
If it hadn’t been inhabited by a jackal.
The carpeted living room boasted a flat-screen television and a sofa. Strangely, the sofa had been moved from its position in front of the TV, off to one side; she noted the four dents where the legs had been. In the center of the room, a single chair had been placed.
One wall was mostly taken up by a stone fireplace, while another was home to the desk and laptop computer. It was here that the vile bastard would attempt to force her to transfer the fortune from her account to his.
As evidenced by the handcuff dangling from a chain, which was connected to a bolt in the wall next to the desk.
She almost laughed. Almost. If he had any clue she didn’t know how to transfer the funds electronically, how to circumvent the maze of online security safeguards, they’d already be dead.
