“Maybe this is why Toby wasn’t at his place when I got there,” Reese said.
“Probably.” Earlier that day, the custom-car dealership had come through for them with an address. Reese had gone there to “talk” but found the wooded cabin empty.
The twisted lunatic was here, instead.
“That’s Margo’s rental,” Reese added, nodding toward the car parked out front of the house.
“Yeah, it’s a regular f**king party inside.” Logan stared at the darkened front windows, trying to decide how to proceed. “How did they get in?” He turned to Reese. “No way did Yvette or her grandpa invite them. But if they forced their way in, why didn’t the patrolmen notice?”
“They’re supposed to come by every fifteen minutes, but I haven’t seen anyone and we’ve been here—” Reese checked his watch “—almost twenty-three minutes.”
Logan didn’t like the significance of that oversight. “Who the hell would have called them off?”
“Oh, yeah.” Rowdy sat on his haunches, his gaze studying the house from front to back. “My snitch says it was a tall silver-haired man who hired the hit on her house.”
“The hell you say.” Reese stared at him. “You just now think to mention it?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “After Cannon called, that bit of news went secondary.”
Reese turned to Logan. “So maybe the commander also called off the extra surveillance.” And under his breath, “I never did like cheaters.”
Logan didn’t want to get distracted, not now, not with his brother inside. But he had to share. “The address Cannon gave me? I just found out an hour ago that it’s the house Dan inherited from his folks.”
Reese shifted, listening while also surveying the surroundings. “I’d say that seals the deal.” And then he asked, “You asked him about it?”
“Right before Rowdy called us.” They’d each been off following their own leads, but now everything was coming to a head at the same time. “Dan said he hadn’t used that house for months, so whoever gave me the address must’ve gotten it wrong.”
“Of course he’ll be able to come up with an alibi if he needs to.”
“Yeah.” Logan hoped like hell Margo’s father hadn’t aligned himself with Dan. All of it was twisted enough, but the idea of a dad setting you up as kindling for a bonfire would f**k up anyone’s life. “I think Dan has a lot to answer for.”
“Soon as we get this settled.”
“Right.” Logan pulled out his phone and punched in Margo’s number.
It went unanswered.
Grim, he said, “I’ll try Yvette.” Again, nothing. “Straight to voice mail.”
“Maybe she turned it off.”
Maybe murderous scum turned it off for her. Logan turned to speak to Rowdy, but found him gone. “Damn it.”
Reese looked, too. “He is so f**king competent.” Sounding impressed, he asked, “Where do you think he went?”
“Knowing Rowdy, he’s probably finding a way to play the hero.” Logan punched in another number, this time Dash.
He finally got an answer.
* * *
“GET HIS PHONE,” Curtis told Yvette. “And hurry it up.”
Breathing in short, gasping breaths, she skirted over to Dash and then waffled helplessly, undecided.
“Front pocket,” Dash told her gently. “Right side.” He helped by lifting his hips a little...and used that movement to further loosen his hands from the nylon cords.
Awkwardly, her face hot, Yvette dug in his pocket and finally got the phone out.
“Put it on speakerphone,” Curtis ordered her, and then to Dash said, “One wrong word and the lady cop is the first one dead.” To shore that up, Saul pointed his gun at her.
With trembling hands, Yvette opened the phone and held it out.
Knowing who it would be, and knowing his brother was too slick to give anything away, Dash said, “Hey.”
“What the hell, Dash,” Logan said. “You stood me up.”
“Yeah, sorry.” He and his brother had talked often enough about cases that he knew how to convey a message without actually saying it. “I forgot to call.”
Already the kerosene on his legs grew uncomfortable. He saw Cannon shift a few times, too. He could only imagine how miserable poor Yvette had to be. He thanked God that they hadn’t put that shit on Margo.
There was a single second of thought, and then Logan asked, “You hanging out with Margo, or Cannon?”
“Both.” He glanced over at Margo, so afraid for her but determined to keep his facade of calm. Somehow they had to get out of this—nothing else was acceptable.
And then he had to tell her how much he loved her.
“Well, don’t sweat it,” Logan said. “Reese and I got called in to work anyway.”
Meaning they knew what was going on.
“I’ll see you soon, though, okay?”
So they were already right outside. If necessary, they could bust in—all he’d need to do was clue them in.
“Sure, but it won’t be anytime real soon.” If they tried to enter now, Margo might be shot. “I’ll give you a call when I have some free time.”
“Sounds like a plan. Hang in there.”
“Sure, thanks, Logan.”
“Bring me the phone,” Curtis demanded as soon as the call ended. He tossed it onto the table and glared at Dash.
“We were supposed to meet for lunch,” Dash lied.
Toby laughed. “You are so full of shit.”
Dash continued to look at Curtis. Toby was harder to convince, but luckily Curtis was—for whatever reason—in charge. “You wanted me to throw him off but I didn’t have to. He’s a cop, like you said. Stuff came up.”
Still Curtis frowned. “What stuff?”
“You heard what I heard. But you know he tried calling Margo first because she’s his lieutenant, so whatever he’s working on must be routine police business.”
After some thought, Curtis nodded. “I believe him. If he’d given his brother any cause for alarm, they’d already be at the door.”
Agitated, Toby paced, his suspicion cast on everyone. “I don’t like it.”
“I didn’t ask you.” Curtis took a deep breath, visibly calming himself. “Saul, give her the shot.”
Shot? What the f**k? Dash worked his wrists. He almost had his right hand free. No way in hell would he let them inject anything into Margo. If it became necessary, he could attack with the damn chair still strapped to him.
Curtis took in his expression, but had no idea that he was close to being free. “Now, now. Don’t worry. It’s nothing lethal. Just something to help her be more compliant.” He smiled. “I agree with Toby. She will not be easy to control.”
Dash knew the woman in the video had been drugged. He would not let that happen to Margo. He’d die before he let her be used like that.
Saul snickered as he stepped into the kitchen and returned with a half-full hypodermic needle. “I’ll dope her up real good. She won’t give you any trouble.”
Jesus, Dash thought, as panic sliced into his composure. Should he yell for Logan now? Had they just run out of time? Curtis still flicked that damned lighter—but he’d have to hand it off to someone else if he planned to... No.
The psychopath would not touch Margo.
“That’s right,” Margo said, still in her abrasive manner—nowhere near a victim—which made it difficult for Dash to understand her strategy. Not that he doubted she had one. “Fill the syringe full, you little worm. Make sure or you’ll be sorry.”
Not a victim, although she’d clearly sent him a message when she’d mentioned being a victim earlier.
As Saul paused, uncertain, she laughed, goading him. That got Toby bunching up, too, and had Curtis twitching with rage.
And then it hit him.
Margo wanted them all rattled. She wanted them to lose sight of their absurd game so that they’d make missteps—and she could take advantage.
As the truth settled in, Dash felt an eerie calm envelop him.
Hands down, the most dangerous person in the room was Margo.
He drew a slow breath while still working to free his hands. As he’d told her many times, she was an excellent cop, able to quickly evaluate any situation. She had a plan, and he’d have to do his part to help her.
His right hand finally slipped free, but he kept it behind him. Whatever happened, he would be ready. She would be fine.
Nothing else was acceptable.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
STICKING CLOSE TO the bricks, flattened to the outside wall, Rowdy went around the back of the house. He had to assume that the girl and her grandpa hadn’t willingly let in the very people who had abused them. That meant the sick f**ks had gotten in another way.
At the back of the house he found a narrow window. Someone had pried open the ancient lock, leaving it unsecured. It’d be a tight fit, but a man could get through there if he wedged in flat. Constantly surveying the area, Rowdy opened the window and peeked in.
It led to a dank, dark basement filled with cobwebs. He saw a few boxes, and to the side, several cans of kerosene. Ropes hung from the cans, leaving him to believe they’d been lowered in.
Were they planning to burn the house to the ground? It appeared so.
Probably with Margo and Dash inside.
He pulled out his phone and sent Logan a succinct text: Going in through the basement. With the sound already turned off, he slipped the phone back into his pocket, turned around and lowered himself inside.
Few basements had high ceilings so the drop was short. He landed on the balls of his feet without making a sound. The door at the top of the wooden stairs was closed, but he went up anyway, pushing aside floating cobwebs that had already been disturbed.
At the top step he listened, and heard it all. Everything. Too much.
If the door squeaked, he would be caught.
But if he didn’t go now, much worse things could happen.
He turned the doorknob and, with sharp satisfaction, slipped silently into the room.
* * *
MARGO PREPARED HERSELF as best she could—but then Toby stopped Saul from going toward her.
Holding out a hand, his expression thoughtful, Toby said, “Wait.”
Anxious to play his games, Saul jiggled in place. “What? Why?” He twisted the needle in his hand. “I want to stick her.”
Turning to Curtis, Toby said, “Have her take her shirt off first.”
Dash cursed, making her silently plead for him to be quiet. To keep their attention, she said, “No. I won’t.”
“Ah.” Pleased, Curtis rubbed his upper lip. “So you balk at the idea of showing us some skin? Well, I’m afraid I’ll have to insist.”