The Viper (COBRA Securities Book 15)

by Velvet Vaughn

  “But he’s so delicate,” she insisted. “He cries if he gets a paper cut. What if the men hurt—”

  “Dammit, I said shut the hell up, woman!”

  Kellan covered a laugh by clearing his throat. “I’ve had enough of this reunion.” He lifted his cell phone. “You have approximately ten seconds to get in your car and vacate the premises before I summon the police. And don’t even think of coming back. I will shoot you, no questions asked.” He glanced at her, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smile. “That is if Annabelle doesn’t beat me to it.”

  Robbie’s chest heaved with angry breaths. She knew he wanted to argue, but he grabbed Vespa’s hand and jerked her with him. She stumbled on her spike heels but kept her balance.

  “Bye, Felicia,” she called after them.

  Vespa turned with a confused look. “Who? My name’s not Felicia.”

  “You are such a dingbat,” Robbie snapped at his wife. “Pick up a damn newspaper sometime. Learn current events. It means she dismissed us. She’s glad to see us leave.”

  “You got that right,” Annabelle muttered under her breath.

  Vespa sent her a hurt look. “But that’s mean,” she sniffed as she tottered after him to the car.

  “You’ve just signed my death warrant, Annabelle. I hope you can live with yourself,” he tossed over his shoulder.

  “You killed innocent people. I hope you can live with yourself,” she shot back.

  Once the car squealed out of the driveway, Kellan hustled her to the SUV. “We need to make this fast. He could be going for reinforcements.”

  They drove through the gate and once it closed, Kellan followed the instructions the man from the security company gave him and changed the code before he continued along the drive. “Does anyone live here now? A maid?”

  “No. Rob’s housekeeper retired. He used a landscaping company to maintain the grounds and pool. Mr. Windham was going to take care of continuing the contract until the will was finalized. I need to find out if he did that before...”

  Kellan squeezed her hand in sympathy. “Are you planning on living here once the will clears probate?”

  She shook her head, leaning forward to peer at the house through the windshield. “It’s too much for me.” She smiled sadly. “When Rob first brought my mother and me here, I thought it was a fairy tale castle.” She could still picture her mother giving the chef the evening off and cooking her boxed macaroni and cheese and serving it in a gold Limoges bowl in the gourmet kitchen because that’s what Annabelle wanted to eat. Rob had made her and her date to her senior prom pose for endless pictures on the sweeping staircase, much to Annabelle’s embarrassment at the time. The house held so many happy memories. “I’m going to sell it.”

  In the last weeks of his life, Rob had given her the name of a real estate agent that he trusted. He told her that he’d already spoken to the woman and she knew that the house might be on the market soon. He was giving her permission to sell the house. At the time, she thought she’d be handling the sale with Robbie, had even thought her stepbrother might want to buy her out of her share. She never dreamed it would be hers alone.

  “Your stepfather had good taste.”

  She nodded slowly. “He did. He left me two other homes as well.”

  Kellan gaped at her. “You’re kidding.”

  “No. A ski chalet in Aspen and a beach house in Maui. I need to figure out what to do with them, too.” She’d always enjoyed visiting both places. They would make nice vacation homes.

  Kellan navigated the circular drive and then continued around to the side of the house. He backed in beside the four-car garage.

  “Why are you parking here?”

  “I don’t want it to be obvious that anyone is here.”

  He meant in case Robbie came back. She wouldn’t have thought of doing something so clandestine, but that was his world. She started to open her door but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Wait there for me. I’ll escort you inside.”

  She glanced out the windows. “You don’t think there are snipers, do you?”

  “I’m not taking chances.”

  He got out, scanning the area as he rounded the hood and opened her door. Once she was out, he wrapped his arm around her and hustled her around the sidewalk that edged the house and up the steps to the porch. There was a keypad attached to the door that hadn’t been there before. Kellan punched in a number and a panel opened, revealing a key. He extracted it and unlocked the door. As soon as they were inside, he relocked it and punched in numbers on another keypad to deactivate the alarm, then more buttons to activate it again.

  Annabelle turned around and inhaled sharply. The house had been ransacked. She stared in horror at the overturned furniture, opened drawers, broken lamps and busted picture frames.

  “Damn,” Kellan murmured, taking in the destruction.

  “This was Robbie’s work.” She was sure of it. “He was looking for money or things he could pawn or sell.”

  “You’ll need to make a list of missing items so we can file a report.”

  She shook her head. “It’d be a waste of time. Rob sold everything of value when he became ill. He moved the contents of his home safe to my safe deposit box.”

  “Sounds like he knew what Robbie was capable of,” Kellan said.

  She nodded slowly. “He knew.” Another task she’d need to add to her growing list: contact a company to clean up the debris before she listed the house on the market. At least he hadn’t done structural damage that she could tell. She’d watched a renovation show once where people had broken in and destroyed the house by spraying graffiti, hammering the wood floors, breaking all the windows and worst of all, pouring cement in all the toilets, showers and sinks. It’d destroyed all the plumbing in the house.

  “The things I need are in the rooms upstairs.” She led the way up the curving double staircase, glancing around at the place she’d called home for many years. She’d miss it, but it was time for a new family to make memories here.

  She paused in front of Rob’s door. His room was a master suite in every sense of the word. Expansive with heated travertine tiles on the floor, it featured a three-sided fireplace, a vaulted ceiling and wall of windows with double doors leading to a private balcony. The last time she’d been in here, it was to pick out the suit for his burial. He told her that he didn’t care what he wore, as long as it included the tie that she’d given him the first Christmas they spent together as a family. Her mom had helped her with the gift. Screened onto the sunny yellow silk was a picture of the three of them, smiling for the camera. Rob wore it often and called it his lucky tie. The people at the funeral home had crossed his hands beneath the picture, making sure it was visible.

  With a deep breath, she opened the door and felt like crying. Robbie had been in here, too. It hurt her heart to see Rob’s clothes and shoes strewn haphazardly about. Drawers had been upended, their contents littering the floor. He’d probably been looking for a hidden safe. Rob did have one, but it was empty, as was the one in his study. She shuddered to think of the damage Robbie had done to that room. She needed to check it out before they left.

  She stepped over a pile of cashmere sweaters. Donating his wardrobe to charity was another to-do item. It wouldn’t be easy to find what she was looking for in the mess—assuming Robbie hadn’t snatched it already. It took some digging, but she spotted the purple and gold jersey with the number twenty-three beneath a blue hoodie. Obviously, Robbie didn’t know about it or he’d have stolen it to hawk for the few hundred it’d bring in. At Kellan’s raised eyebrows, she explained, “I’m sending it to Andre. LeBron gave it to my stepdad. It’s an official game jersey.”

  “Nice.” He took it from her and looked it over with interest. “Autographed, even.”

  She’d intended to have it mounted under glass and hung on the wall of Rob’s room, but his illness progressed quickly after the visit to the Staples Center. He’d decided he wanted to spend his last
days in the solarium so he could see the sky and the trees. She’d had his hospital bed and equipment moved there. She slept on the daybed by his side.

  She hated to leave his room in such disarray, but time was of the essence. She closed Rob’s door and headed to her wing of the house, which consisted of a suite of rooms including one that held a comfortable seating arrangement with a fireplace and television. It led to her large bedroom with windows that overlooked the pool and landscaped grounds. Double doors off to one side was her walk-in closet slash dressing area. Off the other side was an opulent bathroom featuring marble floors, double sinks, a sunken tub with jets and a walk-in shower with four decadent rain shower heads. She’d miss the shower most of all.

  Opening the door, she expected to see the same damage to her suite. She wasn’t disappointed. Her belongings cluttered the floor. The thought of Robbie touching her things had her blood pressure rising to the boiling point.

  “I should’ve shot him when I had the chance,” Kellan muttered.

  “I was thinking the same thing.” The destruction was unnecessary. Though he’d tossed Rob’s clothes and shoes, Robbie took the time to destroy most of hers. Bastard.

  Her two most prized possessions were Kiki, a stuffed teddy bear that her biological father had given her when he’d returned home from one of his military assignments overseas, and the outfit her mother made for the bear. Though both Kiki and the sundress had undergone several surgeries to fix the various age-related deterioration that had resulted from wear over time, they still looked beautiful. She kept Kiki on her bed and though her comforter and sheets had been ripped off, the bear was, thankfully, unscathed. She grabbed her and hugged her before tucking her in her arm. She turned to her cherry dresser and froze. Her jewelry box had been upended and all the pieces scattered. Though none of the items were particularly pricey—she kept those in her safe and the safe deposit box—many had sentimental value. She gasped when she spotted her laptop. It’d been smashed. No, smashed wasn’t the right word. It’d been demolished.

  Kellan knelt beside her. “Maybe our tech guys can salvage anything you need.”

  “It’s beyond saving. Thankfully, I have backups of my projects.”

  Pushing to her feet, she shoved the dresser aside, which was easy since it was on rollers. Running her finger along a board, she found the latch and a section of the floor slid open to reveal a safe.

  “Very James Bond,” Kellan murmured. “It doesn’t look like it’s been tampered with.”

  “I’m pretty sure Robbie has no idea it’s here.” Crouching down, she entered the code along with her fingerprint and it opened. The safe wasn’t large. Inside was her passport, the pearl necklace, two external hard drives that held the backup copies of her work, a photo album, and other assorted items including report cards, her college acceptance letter and her diploma. There was also a key with a number on it, but no other writing to indicate what it opened. She thought about leaving most of the items but decided to take anything of value with her. It could be months before she returned.

  She stood. “I’ll find a bag.” Stepping into her closet, she spotted her Louis Vuitton luggage set.

  Kellan’s brows creased when she rolled out the hardback Horizon 55 case. “Do you have anything else? A canvas bag, maybe? Something easier to travel with and a little less…eye-catching.”

  She glanced at the fuchsia bag. It was a bit in your face. “I have a backpack.”

  “That’d work. It will be easier to tote around, too.”

  She wheeled the luggage back inside and found her Coach Rivington backpack. Technically, it was a man’s bag, but she didn’t care. She’d carried it to work in Seattle so she knew her laptop would fit, along with the other items she wanted to take with her. Except, her laptop was now in thousands of tiny pieces.

  After adding Kiki, the signed Lakers jersey, and everything from her safe, she tossed in a few other items. “I’d like to take some clothes…if I can find any that aren’t destroyed.” She started for her closet, but Kellan grabbed her arm and held a finger to his lips. He reached over and flicked off the lights.

  “What—”

  “Shh.”

  “Oh Annabelle, I know you’re here. Where are you, sweet cheeks?”

  Her eyes snapped to Kellan. “That’s Bixby,” she whispered.

  “How the hell did he get past the alarms?”

  No time to worry about that now. “Come with me.” She grabbed his arm and the backpack, toting him inside her closet to the mirror on the back wall. Reaching up, she pressed a hidden button and it slid open. She shoved Kellan inside and followed, reaching for the mechanism to slide the panel back in place. The mirror was similar to the ones in police interrogation rooms, allowing you to see outside but not be seen.

  “You are a regular Jane Bond, aren’t you,” he teased.

  She couldn’t respond. Her breath sawed in and out as panic threatened to consume her. Reading her emotions, he pulled her into his arms and held her. “I won’t let him get you,” he promised, a hand stroking her hair.

  She sighed and melted against his chest. It felt so good to be in his embrace. He made her feel safe. “Rob had this room made for me when I was younger. I was fascinated with hidden rooms and this was my hideout.” It still held memories of her childhood. Stacks of books she’d spent hours reading. Pictures of *NSYNC and Zac Efron. A bean bag chair and a day bed covered with more stuffed animals that she’d collected over the years, and looking at them now, she realized she might have a slight addiction. This was her happy place. Her refuge.

  “Annabelle, come out, come out wherever you are.” Bixby’s voice was getting louder. He was close. “You’re mine now, Annabelle. Did you know that? You, my dear, are part of the debt your brother owes me, so that means I own you now.”

  “Stepbrother,” she mumbled as a chill swept over her body. “And never.”

  Bixby appeared in her closet and snapped on the light. He ambled around, fingering her clothes that were scattered on the ground. He reached into an open drawer in the dressing table in the middle of the room and pulled out a pair of her panties. He lifted them to his nose and sniffed. She recoiled, disgusted. Then he slipped it into his pocket.

  “Come on, Annabelle, I know you’re here. You can’t hide from me. I will find you.”

  Two armed men appeared in the doorway. “No sign of her.”

  “No,” she gasped. “Thug A and Thug B.”

  Bixby stopped in front of the mirror and she shrank back, even though he couldn’t see her. Kellan gripped her tighter, his presence a reassuring comfort. Bixby smoothed his pencil-thin mustache with his fingers, sucked something from his teeth and then straightened his shirt. “Look again,” he ordered the men.

  “Yes, boss.”

  Finally, he turned and strutted away. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Do you think they’ll leave?”

  “Eventually,” Kellan answered.

  She hoped so. The thought of meeting Bixby up close and personal again caused a chill to race down her spine.

  #

  A shrill alarm sounded, jerking Kellan awake. His eyes popped open to stare into a pair of vacant brown ones. He tossed the fluffy koala aside and shot to his feet. He’d fallen asleep on the frilly day bed covered in a lacy white comforter and more stuffed animals than a zoo gift shop. Annabelle could be featured on an episode of Stuffed Animal Hoarders, if such a show existed. She’d dozed in the bean bag chair while they waited for Bixby and his men to leave.

  “That’s the fire alarm,” Annabelle gasped, scrambling to her feet.

  “Bixby must’ve set a fire to smoke us out.” They needed to get out before the secret room became their tomb. The two-way mirror allowed him to see that no one was waiting to ambush them on the other side. “How do you activate the door?”

  She pressed a button with a shaking finger and the panel slid aside. He grabbed her backpack and slung a strap over his shoulder as he led the way out of the closet and into her
thankfully-empty room. Smoke was making its way through the house. “How many exits besides the front door?”

  “Five.”

  “What about an attic?”

  “There’s a rooftop deck.”

  “How do you access it?”

  “From the room across the hall.”

  “Stay close.” Kellan stuck his head out the door and checked both directions. The smoke was starting to thicken. Suddenly it was so quiet, the only sound he could hear was Annabelle’s rapid breathing. Someone had silenced the alarm, probably hoping the fire department wouldn’t arrive. They needed to get to the roof before Bixby came looking for them. Tiptoeing across the way, he opened the door to make sure the room was clear. A quick check assured him it was, and he motioned Annabelle ahead of him. He followed as she climbed the circular wrought iron staircase. The roof-top deck was flat, with padded chairs and tables with umbrellas that were closed and strapped tight. Lush, tropical plants were placed around in terra cotta pots and a raised round fire pit held river rock. The rest of the roof was several different heights, with a few steep slopes. They needed to get to the balcony off the master suite. From there, they’d have to drop to the deck off the great room where they’d have access to the steps leading to the ground.

  Kellan turned to Annabelle. “How are you with heights?”

  “I don’t love them, but I can manage.”

  Right answer. “Good. Follow me.” He’d have carried her if he had to, but thankfully it wasn’t an issue. He slid both arms through the backpack straps and took Annabelle’s hand. “Stay low. People often forget to look up, but we can’t afford to take that chance.”

  They carefully made their way from one level to the next. When they came to a sharp peak, he’d released her hand so she could keep her balance on the uneven surface. Swinging one leg over, he controlled a slide down the slope to a flat spot and turned to wait for Annabelle to follow. She climbed over one leg at a time but her back foot lost purchase and slid out from under her. His heart stopped as she teetered back and forth, her arms flailing as a look of pure horror crossed her face before she pitched forward. He braced his feet and caught her, the force of the hit sending him tumbling backward. They landed hard against the round peak of a turret.