Deadly Silence

by Rebecca Zanetti

  Norton went in the opposite direction.

  “What the hell?” Ryker asked.

  Norton flashed a smile and grabbed his phone.

  * * *

  Zara stomped snow from her boots just inside the garage. Arrested. She’d actually been arrested. There would be a trial. “I just don’t understand who would plant that knife,” she stuttered. Again.

  Heath pushed out of his coat. Anger vibrated around him and had since he’d heard that the airport was still closed. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

  Zara’s phone dinged, and she lifted it to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Ms. Remington? This is Detective Norton. Don’t say a word and don’t let anybody know who I am.”

  She blinked. “Um, all right.” What in the world?

  “I have your boyfriend cuffed in the back of my car, and I’m planning to put a bullet in his head unless you do exactly as I say,” the detective said slowly and clearly.

  Zara stopped breathing. Her lungs hitched. “Wh-what?”

  Heath turned around, his gaze intense.

  “You heard me. I’ll let him go if you get me the package from Julie,” Norton said.

  Zara’s mind scrambled facts into place. “Wait— You were seeing her? You’re the guy.” Shock coated her throat, with fear following. The cop had killed Julie, and now he had Ryker? Oh God, Ryker. She partially bent over to keep from passing out.

  “You have twenty minutes to bring the package to me at your house. If you’re not here, or if you bring anybody with you, I’ll blow a hole in your man’s forehead.” While Norton sounded calm, a thread of pure panic had lifted his tone.

  “Okay,” Zara said, her stomach cramping. “I’ll be there.” She clicked off, looking wildly around.

  “What?” Heath asked, appearing big and broad.

  Norton had said to come alone and not tell anybody, but that would get Ryker and probably her killed. She was smarter than that, damn it. Heath was probably as well trained as Ryker, and she needed his help. “Detective Norton has Ryker and said he’d shoot him if I don’t bring a package to him. He was the guy seeing Julie.” The words had burst out of her. If she was going to save Ryker, she definitely needed help. “He said he’d kill Ryker if I told anybody or brought anybody with me.”

  Heath’s face hardened and he was quiet for two seconds, no doubt calming himself the same way Ryker did. “Do you have a package?”

  She shook her head, panic swarming through her. “I think there was one in my mail that I picked up this morning, but it’s in Ryker’s truck. In the glove box.”

  “Okay.” Heath grabbed both her arms. “Take a deep breath and relax. Norton thinks we have something he needs, and he won’t hurt Ryker until he gets it. You find a package or envelope around here that’s about the same size, and I’ll go grab Denver. Okay? Can you do that?”

  She nodded.

  “Good. I’ll be right back.” Heath turned on his heel and ran up the stairs.

  She sucked in air and scrambled up to Ryker’s office, where she found a large padded envelope that kind of looked like the one she remembered. Quickly, she stuffed a book inside just as Heath and Denver ran from one of their offices.

  “What’s going on?” Denver asked.

  Heath quickly brought him up to speed and gave the lowdown on a plan he’d already put together. “I’ll take the package to the front door and Denver will come in the back. We’ll hit him from different directions.”

  Zara held up a hand. “No. I have to go in the front. He’ll be waiting for me.” If he didn’t see her, he just might cut his losses and shoot Ryker before running. “If he sees me on the front step, then you two will have time to get into the place. It’s the only way. He’s a cop and he’s trained.”

  Denver shook his head.

  Heath blanched. “If we take you, Ryker is gonna kill us. You’re his heart, lady.”

  Hearing the words from Ryker’s brother filled her with warmth. If she was his heart, then she had to save his ass. “I understand, but the best plan is if I’m there.”

  Heath glanced at Denver. “We don’t need you to go, sweetheart. It’s better, much better, if you stay here.”

  “Better for whom?” she asked, already moving toward the garage.

  “Ryker,” Denver said.

  “And us,” Heath added, loping into a jog. “If my brothers let my woman confront an armed man who’d already killed one woman, I’d rip their skin from their bodies inch by inch and then use a squirt gun to spray them with saltwater.”

  Zara looked over her shoulder. “Dude.”

  Denver snorted and hustled alongside her. “I agree with most of what he said. We can take the house without you.”

  She shook her head. “Yeah, but he said he’d kill Ryker if I even told anybody else.”

  “He’ll try to kill Ryker anyway,” Heath said curtly. “It’s better if we go without you.”

  She shook her head. “Maybe, but with me there, Detective Norton will be distracted just long enough for you guys to get inside. You know that, or we wouldn’t all be moving toward the vehicles right now.”

  Denver sighed. “Ah hell.”

  “Exactly,” Heath said grimly.

  Zara said a quick prayer in her head. Ryker had to be all right. He just had to be.

  Chapter

  31

  Ryker settled onto the sofa in Zara’s living room, his hands still cuffed behind his back. The cushions were way too soft and gave him barely enough leverage to jump up if necessary. Detective Norton was no idiot. “Why did you kill Julie?” Ryker had to get the gun from the bastard before his brothers showed up. No way was Zara stupid enough to come alone, and the second she told his brothers about the detective, they would set a plan into motion. So now Ryker needed to distract the prick. “Detective?”

  Norton paced by the front window and moved a filmy curtain aside to look at the raging storm. “She was gonna tell my wife about us and about our time at the Picalo Club.”

  “You created the fake badge for Zara.”

  Norton nodded. “Yep.” He clearly had no intention of letting them live. He wouldn’t be confessing everything otherwise.

  “So what if Julie told your wife?”

  “So what?” Norton turned around, his eyes hard. “My wife is Margaret Rapperton.”

  Ryker snorted. “The governor’s daughter?”

  “Yeah. She would divorce my ass, and her daddy would destroy any hope of my making chief. Ever.” Norton shook his head. “Julie and I did drugs together along with a couple of other things I’d rather weren’t made public, and that bitch put it all in her diary.”

  Ryker kept his gaze stoic while adrenaline flowed through his veins. “So you killed her. Just stabbed her until she bled out. A woman you’d been intimate with.” The bastard deserved to be skinned alive.

  Norton rolled his eyes. “She was a great lay, and on drugs, we were flying. But then she got all clingy. We had too much meth, got in a fight, and before I knew it, she was dead. It wasn’t my fault.” His gun rested loosely in his hand. “I’d planned to frame her dickhead of a husband for her death, but you and Zara Remington kept getting in the way. This is much better, though.”

  Ryker gingerly moved to the edge of the sofa.

  “If you move another inch, I’m shooting you before she gets here.” Norton aimed the gun at Ryker’s chest. “Then I’ll have some fun with her before I have to shoot her in self-defense. So sad. She got caught up with the wrong guy, and look what happened.”

  The man was insane. Smart but insane. “I’m not going to waste my breath telling you this will never work.” Ryker calculated the distance between them.

  “Good.”

  “But I will tell you that if you somehow do succeed in this, my brothers will rip you apart limb by limb. They won’t rest until they’ve destroyed you.”

  Norton turned back to the window. “We’ll see.”

  A noise behind the house caught Ryker’s
attention. Footsteps and breathing. What the hell? Neither Heath nor Denver would make so much noise. The kitchen door opened, and Ryker instantly started coughing, trying to mask the sound.

  Norton turned around and studied him.

  “Swallowed down wrong tube,” Ryker gasped out.

  Norton frowned and looked toward the kitchen. “Shit.” He strode by the couch toward the kitchen.

  Ryker leaped up and slammed his shoulder into the cop’s side, throwing them both into a wall. Norton pivoted and punched Ryker in the jaw, smashing him into the arm of the couch.

  With an explosive roar, Brock Hurst leaped from the kitchen, a frying pan in his hands.

  What was the lawyer doing there? Ryker shouted a warning.

  Brock swung just as Norton fired. The explosion ripped through the house. Blood bloomed across Brock’s leg, and he fell back, his mouth wide in shock.

  Ryker bunched and moved. Norton pivoted and shot again. Pain burst across Ryker’s shoulder. He dropped and then jumped up, ramming his head beneath Norton’s chin. The cop’s head snapped back and hit the wall. Ryker kept going, using his head, knees, and feet, keeping the detective off balance and ignoring the blood flowing from his arm.

  Then Norton slammed the gun down on his wounded shoulder. The world went black. Ryker dropped to a knee and shook his head, trying to focus. His vision cleared. He tensed to strike, and Norton rested the barrel of the gun against his forehead.

  Fuck.

  “Get up,” the detective hissed.

  Ryker used the coffee table for balance and shoved to his feet. Norton checked him into the sofa, and he bounced, heat flaring through him. “Brock?”

  The attorney was leaning against the wall by the kitchen, his face pale, his leg bleeding. He grimaced and pressed on his wound. “I came to help.”

  A timid knock sounded from the front door.

  Ryker angled his head to see who was outside. Zara stood there, pale and being bombarded by the snapping storm. What the hell was she doing there? He stopped breathing.

  Norton leaned in. “If anybody moves, I’m shooting the bitch in the head.”

  Ryker snarled. She wasn’t supposed to show up. God. She’d told Heath and Denver about Norton, hadn’t she? “You touch her, and I’ll make sure you beg for death. Which I won’t grant.”

  Norton moved toward the door, the gun pointed at head height for Zara. He opened the door. “Give me the package.”

  “Not until I see that Ryker is alive,” came Zara’s clear voice.

  Everything in Ryker settled and stilled. She was in the crosshairs of a gun, and he was handcuffed. He moved to the edge of the sofa, tucking his feet beneath him, preparing to ram the detective so Zara could run. She had better, by God, run.

  Norton yanked Zara inside and shut the door, quickly locking it.

  She saw him, and her eyes widened. “Ryker. You’ve been shot.” She tried to move for him, but Norton stopped her with a hand on her arm.

  “I kill him right now if you’re not alone,” Norton growled, jerking her up onto her toes.

  Ryker readied to attack.

  “I’m alone.” Zara reached into her jacket and shoved an envelope at Norton, her gaze not leaving Ryker.

  Brock coughed, and she stilled, craning her neck to see beyond Ryker. “Brock?”

  “Hi, Zara,” Brock rasped out.

  She paled. “You’ve been shot, too?”

  “This is a mess,” Norton agreed, taking the envelope. “I’m afraid you all have to die.”

  Ryker’s head swam, but he focused on the envelope. It wasn’t the same as the one in the truck. Zara was bluffing with the psychopath? He jerked his head to the left, and she gave a barely perceptible nod.

  Then he struck, his head down.

  He smacked into the detective’s chest and jerked up, hitting Norton beneath the chin with his head. The cop’s head snapped up, and he bellowed, smashing his elbow down on Ryker’s wound. Ryker howled and levered his legs up with a series of kicks.

  Movement caught his attention from the other room, so he dodged to the side and took Zara down to the ground, covering her with his body.

  Cool steel suddenly rested against his temple.

  Norton stood above him, his legs splayed. “I guess you die first.”

  Two additional guns cocked.

  Ryker stilled and slowly turned his head. Then he smiled. “There are two guns pointed at you, Detective,” he rasped. Heath and Denver aimed at Norton from opposite angles.

  Norton looked around, his eyes wild.

  The moron might actually go for it. Ryker fell back, twisted, and kicked up, nailing the prick in the groin.

  Norton let out a pained “Oof” and leaned over, his face flushing a deep red. “You asshole.” He swung the gun toward Ryker.

  A shot rang out.

  Norton yelled and dropped the gun, holding his bleeding right hand. “What the fuck?”

  Ryker looked around. Denver grinned and spun his gun before setting it in his back pocket.

  “Nice shot,” Ryker breathed, rolling off Zara.

  She moved with him, her hands pressing on his wound. Pain lanced through him and he grunted. “Sorry,” she murmured, her beautiful face set in concerned lines, tears filling her eyes. “How bad is it?”

  He pushed himself up. “What the hell are you doing here?” he ground out.

  “Told you he’d be pissed,” Heath said.

  “Her plan worked.” Denver took Norton down to the floor and searched his pockets, grabbing a key and tossing it to Heath, who knelt down and uncuffed Ryker, then threw the cuffs to Denver, who secured them firmly around the detective’s wrists.

  Ryker bit back a moan. “Brock? You okay?” He tried to see past the coffee table.

  Brock grunted as Denver tugged him up and then helped him to the sofa after apparently having tied his belt around Brock’s thigh. “I’m good,” Brock groaned, settling back into the cushions. Blood covered his pants and hands, but some of the color had returned to his face. “How about you?”

  “I think I’m all right.” Ryker winced as he tried to pull off his jacket. Zara helped him and then pulled his shirt over his head. Pain exploded in his arm again.

  Denver instantly knelt and studied the wound. “Bullet went through,” he said, probing the wound.

  Agony ripped through Ryker’s shoulder, and he jerked away.

  Heath looked around. “Zara? Do you have a big bandage around here? We can use that until we’re back at headquarters.”

  Zara nodded and jumped to her feet, hustling into the bathroom.

  Ryker took in the entire scene in bemused silence. He would rather avoid the hospital and any records. However, Brock needed a doctor. “Brock? You’re solid, man. Thanks for rushing in here.”

  Brock nodded. “Next time I’ll bring more than a frying pan.” He coughed out a laugh and then groaned again. “We should probably call the police.”

  Ryker frowned. “Yeah. Let’s get you and the detective here to the hospital, and then you and I will call them.” He had to cover for his brothers.

  Brock frowned. “Um, why aren’t you going to the hospital?”

  Ryker paused. “I’m undercover and can’t.” He yanked a dollar out of his back pocket and tossed it at the lawyer. “You’re our lawyer now.” That way Brock couldn’t say a thing about them.

  “Okay,” Brock said, his gaze knowing.

  Heath assisted Brock up. “I’ll stick with you guys since I’m Zara’s lawyer, and I’ve met most of the cops around here anyway. We need somebody to grab the real envelope out of Ryker’s truck to give to the police for good old Norton there.”

  Norton watched the proceedings. “I’m going to kill you all.”

  Ryker snorted. “You are such a moron.” Not for one moment had he doubted that Heath and Denver would come for him. His chest warmed. “Let’s start at the beginning. Which of you dumb-asses allowed Zara to put herself in danger?”

  “Allow? Did you
really just say ‘allow’?” Zara emerged from the bathroom, her hands full of bandages. “Boy, are we going to talk.”

  He met her gaze levelly. “Oh, baby, you’ve got that right.”

  Chapter

  32

  Zara’s hands shook as she finished drawing one of Ryker’s big T-shirts over her head in his master bathroom. He’d been shot. The man had actually been shot. Tears pooled in her eyes again, and she shoved them away. Not once in her life had she felt fear like that. She didn’t want to go back to her lonely life without him. Never again.

  She rubbed lotion into her hands and moved into the bedroom, where he rested on top of the bed. Shirtless, with a bandage covering his right shoulder and his long legs stretched out in sweats. “Are you sure Greg is contained?” The kid had finished waiting for the weather to change and now wanted to hot-wire the truck to go searching for his brothers on his own.

  Ryker nodded. “Yeah. He’s bunking at Denver’s, who’s going through all the computer searches with him to prove we’re trying to find Dr. Madison. The airports are still closed, but I’m thinking they’ll be open tomorrow, and Heath will head to Snowville on the Copper Killer case.”

  Good. That was good. “How’s the shoulder?” she asked.

  “Better.” He scratched at the bandage. “Denver stitched me up nicer than a doctor would have.”

  Zara lifted both eyebrows. “Brock Hurst called from the hospital while you were being stitched together. He gave the diary to the cops along with a cuffed Detective Norton, and it looks like you and I need to go give statements tomorrow. Right now Brock is handling everything as my lawyer, and he said the cops seem to be reeling a little bit.”

  “I’m sure. Norton had it all planned out.”

  “I guess Mayor Pentley has already held two news conferences and is using the situation to his advantage,” Zara said.

  “He’s a prick,” Ryker agreed.

  “Also, Brock said that Julie’s autopsy results came back. Her body shows long-term use of several narcotics.” Zara’s voice wavered, and her stomach hurt.