Killjoy (Buchanan-Renard #3) Page 18
She pulled out her FBI credentials and waved them in front of his face. Cannon blinked twice, then rushed to his computer to get what she demanded.
“This is highly irregular,” he muttered as she grabbed her backpack, slung it over her shoulder, and went running after John Paul. “Highly irregular.”
Avery caught up with John Paul as he was walking past reception. The lobby was crowded with incoming guests now, and she had to cut around three separate groups to get to him. When she finally reached him, she grabbed hold of his upper arm and tried to make him stop.
The creep didn’t even slow down. He just kept going, pulling her along as she held tight. She noticed he didn’t walk around people. They got out of his way. She dug in and tightened her hold. If she’d had long nails, she would have broken every one of them. His skin was warm, indicating he was human, but his muscle felt like rock.
“Will you stop? I need to talk to you.” Then, when he still didn’t slow down, she added, “Please, John Paul. I need your help.”
Ah, hell. She sounded as if she was going to cry. There wasn’t a damned thing he could do for her, but she was too naive to know that. She’d probably been sheltered from the real world all her life and couldn’t possibly know how to cope. Like it or not, she was about to find out that life didn’t always end happily ever after.
He felt sorry for her. Cursing under his breath, he finally turned to her. He thought about trying to soft-pedal the truth, but then decided she was going to have to deal with reality sooner or later.
“I can’t help you.”
“What did you mean when you said it was already too late? I heard you on the phone.”
“I’ll let the FBI explain. Do you have someone you could call to come and sit with you? Some family member or close friend who could take care of you?”
Avery stopped abruptly. God, he was callous. “You think my aunt is dead, don’t you?”
He didn’t immediately answer her, but the way he was looking made her think he was trying to judge if she was strong enough before he said anything. Was he worried she’d become hysterical?
“I’m not going to fall apart. Just answer me.”
He took a step closer. “Yes,” he said. “I do think your aunt and the other two women are already dead.”
She let go of his arm and stepped back. “Why? Why do you think that?”
“Isn’t there anyone you could . . .”
“Call?” she snapped. “Aunt Carrie and Uncle Tony are my only family, and I’m not going to scare my uncle half to death the way you’re trying to scare me until I have all the facts. Tell me how you know this Monk.”
“Miss Delaney?”
Oliver was calling to her. She turned and saw the clerk holding up a house phone and beckoning her.
It couldn’t be Margo, she thought. Her friend would have called her on her cell phone. Who then? Carrie . . . Maybe Carrie was on the line. Avery was suddenly so frightened, she couldn’t catch her breath. Please, let it be Carrie.
She dropped her backpack as she sidestepped a couple. She was in too much of a hurry to pick it up. As she neared the counter, Oliver said, “The caller says it’s urgent.”
John Paul followed with her backpack. He saw her grab the receiver, then heard her say, “Carrie?”
“Sorry, darling girl. It isn’t Carrie.”
Jarred by the endearment and the whisper-soft voice of the woman on the line, Avery asked, “Who is this?”
“Who I am isn’t important at the moment, but your Carrie is, isn’t she? We have her. Would you like to see her again?”
The voice was muffled. Avery didn’t think she had ever heard it before.
“What have you done with her? Is she all right? If you hurt her . . .”
“Stupid girl, be quiet and listen,” the woman ordered. “I’m only going to say this once, so pay attention. Three lives depend upon your cooperation. I’ve left a manila envelope on the counter with your name on it. It’s right there, on your left. Ah, don’t turn around,” she said in a hushed croon that made Avery’s skin crawl. “If you see me, all the rules will change and your poor, poor Carrie and her new best friends will have to pay the price.”
Avery stiffened. “Where are you?” she whispered.
“Here,” the voice answered. “I’m watching you. You want to look, don’t you?” She laughed. “Don’t be a killjoy and ruin my game. Pick up the map, Avery. That’s my girl. See the nice watch? Put it on. Now.”
Avery picked up the man’s Swatch athlete’s watch and quickly slipped the band over her hand.
“That’s it,” the woman said. “Now open the map and find the little red X I’ve marked for you. Hurry now.”
Avery propped the phone on her shoulder, opened the map, and began to search for the mark. She dropped the phone as she leaned forward, trying to see a glimpse of a face in the reflection of the shiny granite wall behind the counter.
John Paul reached around her and picked up the phone. She grabbed it from him.
“Clumsy girl,” the voice chided.
“I’m sorry.”
John Paul watched Avery closely. The color had drained from her face, and she had a white-knuckle grip on the phone. He couldn’t stop himself from putting his arm around her, concerned now that whatever she was hearing was going to be too much for her. He wasn’t any good at comforting women—he’d actually never attempted it before—but he felt obligated to try.
“Oh, isn’t that sweet,” the voice was syrupy now. “Is he your lover?”
She was so rattled she couldn’t think. “Yes . . . no.”
The woman laughed. “Who is he?”
“No one.”
“Oh?”
Avery said the first thing that popped into her head. “He’s an actor. He worked . . . works for Carrie in commercials. I’ll send him away.”
“No, no, don’t do that. He’s in the game now, darling girl. By now he knows you’re having trouble finding Carrie. We don’t want him asking questions or calling the police. Besides, he’ll have more fun on the treasure hunt with you. But no one else. You say one word to anyone, and we’ll know it. From the time you hang up this phone, we’ll be monitoring your progress. You’re going to tell the manager Carrie called and everything’s fine. Then you’re going to take your cell phone out of your purse and drop it in the fountain on your way out of the hotel. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Take your boyfriend’s cell phone. Let me see you do it.”
She turned to John Paul. “Give me your cell phone.”
“I don’t have one.”
She repeated what he’d said into the phone.
“We’ll know if you’re lying. It really doesn’t matter, though. You won’t be able to get a signal where you’re going, but I still want to see you get rid of your phone.”
“Yes, I will. Is Carrie all right? Is she—”
“She’s fine . . . for the moment. Do what I tell you to do if you want her to stay that way.” The tone of her voice turned hard and brittle, yet there was an underlying edge of excitement there as well. “Have you found the red X?”
“Yes, I see it.”
“Follow the directions I’ve written at the bottom. You’ve got exactly two hours to get there.”
“But it’s at least a three-hour drive from here. It isn’t possible. It doesn’t look like there are any roads once we get—”
“I said two hours,” the woman interrupted. “One hundred and twenty minutes, Avery, and not one minute more. Didn’t you hear me?”
“Yes, but what if we don’t make it in time? What if we’re late?”
The woman laughed. “Boom.”
Chapter 10
THE WOMAN SOUNDED DEMENTED. SHE WAS LAUGHING AS SHE disconnected the line. Avery, shaken to the core, handed the receiver to Oliver, and as she did so, she leaned into the counter and, slipping her hand into her backpack, pushed the speed dial number that would connect her to the pen. She waited a second, then pushed the star to signal an alert. Cannon hurried toward her and dropped the printout of information she’d demanded on the counter.
“You were right,” she said, her voice strained with what she hoped sounded like good cheer. “That was Carrie on the phone. It was all just a crazy mix-up. Now, if you’ll excuse us, John Paul and I are going for a ride.”
She was trying not to let them see how frantic she was. She shoved the papers Cannon had placed on the counter into her backpack before he could snatch them back, grabbed her cell phone and the map, and sprinted for the entrance.
She glanced at each face she passed, but there were so many people loitering in the massive lobby, it was impossible to get a good look at all the women. Where were the phone banks? There were palms and huge ficus trees everywhere. The caller could be hiding as she watched Avery now.
“Let’s go,” she shouted to John Paul before she realized he was right behind her.
“What’s going on?”
She didn’t answer. She rushed to the fountain, dropped her cell phone into the water, and then ran out the front doors and bumped into the bellman.
“Miss Delaney, if you’ll give me your room number, I’ll take your luggage up—”
Ignoring him, she ran down the stairs and stopped in the middle of the circle drive as she tried to locate her rental car. Where was it?
John Paul lifted the black duffel bag from the luggage rack. “This one hers?” he asked the bellman.
“Yes, sir. See, her name’s on it. Has she checked in yet?”
“What have you done with my car?” she shouted at the same time.
She was running toward the valet stand when John Paul intercepted her. She wasn’t going to go anywhere until he let her, and he wasn’t going to do that until she told him what the hell was going on. She was shaking violently.
“Take a deep breath and calm down. You aren’t going to faint, are you?” he asked.
“No.”
“Okay, tell me what happened. Talk to me, damn it. Who was on the phone?”
“It was a woman. I didn’t recognize her voice. She said they have my aunt.”
“They?” he demanded. “You’re sure she said they?”
“Yes,” she said. She was growing more frantic with each passing second. “Carrie’s in trouble, and I have to get to her before it’s too late.”
“Did the woman tell you to get rid of your cell phone?”
Struggling to get away from him, she whispered, “Yes. Look, this isn’t a prank. I could tell. She said that they would kill Carrie and two other women who are with her if we don’t get moving. Please,” she pleaded in desperation. “You have to go with me. She said you’re in the game now. We have to hurry. She’s given us two hours to get to a place she marked on the map, and I don’t know how we’ll make it in time. It’s so far away . . .”
“You know this is probably a trap, don’t you? You’ve got to know—”
“Yes,” she shouted, no longer caring who heard her. “And once we’re on our way, I’m going to try to think of a way to stay alive and help Carrie. Listen to me. I don’t have a choice. If it were your mother or your daughter, would you stand here analyzing the situation? I know you wouldn’t. You’d do exactly what I’m going to do. Play along and seize whatever chance you can. Now move it, Renard. Time’s running out.”
She was right. He would have paid the ransom or done anything humanly possible to keep someone he loved alive a little longer.
“Come on,” he said. “We’ll take my car.”
Weak with relief because he wasn’t arguing, she whispered, “Thank you.”
He grabbed her hand and ran to the parking lot, with her stumbling along behind him. His SUV was illegally parked in front of a walkway. There was a security guard standing beside the hood shaking his head.
“Are you the owner of this—” He stopped when he saw the expression on John Paul’s face, then quickly backed away, stepping into a bed of pansies.
John Paul ignored him. He pushed the security button on his key chain to unlock the doors and tossed Avery’s bag into the back with his gear while she ran around to the front passenger seat.
She had the map out and was pointing to the red X by the time he slid behind the wheel. “We’ve got exactly two hours. No, one hour and fifty-seven minutes now, to get to this spot. Let’s go.”
John Paul studied the map for about ten seconds. “It’s going to be close,” he said as he started the ignition.
“But we can make it?”
“Maybe,” was all he would allow. “You navigate. Put your seat belt on.”
He couldn’t floor it until they were out of the parking area, but by the time they’d reached the gate at the end of the long, winding road, he was going fifty.
Avery was leaning forward, rocking, as though that motion would help them get closer to their destination. She realized what she was doing and forced herself to sit back while she concentrated for the moment on giving him directions.
He sped down the highway. “There,” she shouted when she saw the sign. “Take the cutoff up ahead. It should be about a mile or so. You can stay on that two-lane for at least twenty miles, maybe thirty.” Gripping her hands together, she watched the road until the turnoff came into view. “Slow down. There it is. You’ll miss it.”
“I see it,” he said calmly.
He took the blacktop road on two wheels. Avery braced herself with her hand against the dashboard. Didn’t these things turn over all the time? That was all they needed, for John Paul to wreck the car. Carrie would be doomed.
Calm down, she told herself. We’ll make it. We have to.
She looked down, saw the masculine Swatch watch half on top of her little Timex, and quickly removed it. After she examined the front and the back, she carefully placed it in the cup holder between them.
The road straightened ahead, and he glanced over. “Now you start talking,” he said. “Tell me exactly what she said.”
She told him what she could remember, and then she said, “She was there watching us. I tried to find her on my way outside, but there were so many people milling around.”
“She might not have been inside. Didn’t you notice all the security cameras?”
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