Slater's Revenge Page 8

  “Control. He’s worth a lot more to them if they have him under their thumb.” Josh gently pushed the head of lettuce in her direction. “Ultimately, you’re the one person in this world Drake would give his life to protect. You’re the leverage. They plan to turn you both.”

  “Well, they need to come up with a better scheme. There’s no way in hell I’ll ever help the bastards who killed my parents.” Three years ago, in the alley on D Street, she’d let the taste of evil trap her in its hold. Not this time. She ripped the head of lettuce in half with her hands. “Why haven’t the police solved their murders?”

  …

  The slippery path had opened, and Josh had to respond. “From the files I’ve seen, there was only one lead on the case. The man who rigged the plane to crash.”

  “Probably made a boatload of money jimmying the Cessna. What did he tell them?” Macki asked.

  “Nothing. By the time they found him the next day, he’d taken his own life.”

  She became quiet, too quiet. “What’s his name?”

  Was this finally the moment to tell her the truth? To open himself to her wrath? To see the look in her eyes when she realized she’d given herself to the son of the man who killed her parents? Was he ready? Was he?

  No. Not yet…not yet.

  As he refilled his cup, hot coffee sloshed over the rim, over his fingers, and down his hand. Maybe the hot pain could numb his senses, because he didn’t like this line of questioning.

  She snatched the pot from him and grabbed an ice cube from the refrigerator, then rubbed the ice on his reddened hand. “What are you doing? Didn’t you feel the hot coffee?”

  He’d felt it, but he’d been focused on what his answer should be.

  “I was thinking about the men who attacked you last night. Trying to figure out if I’d ever seen them on any of my other cases.” He swallowed the lie with a gulp of coffee, then pushed the dish towel onto the coffee liquid spreading across the counter. If he was lucky, this case would end before she found out the truth.

  “Have you?”

  “No. Of course, a couple of them wore masks.” Maybe he could distract her from her previous question. “How about you?”

  “Not that I remember.” Leaning against the counter, she scrunched her brows together. “Now where were we— Oh, I remember. What was the name of the man who killed my parents?”

  So much for distractions. “I don’t know.”

  She slammed her fist on the granite. “Well, I’m sure the jerk’s family knew something that could have helped. If I ever find out his name, I’ll make sure they don’t have a moment’s peace spending the money.”

  “From what I know, he only had one son.” Heat from the hot cup warmed his hands, but little more. “Don’t you think he’s probably suffered enough already?”

  “Not in my book.” She hand-swept the remainder of the salad makings into the bowl. “I doubt the son ever gives a second thought to what put the money in his bank account. Besides, you know that old saying—like father, like son.”

  Chapter Nine

  Hours later, Josh’s eyelids popped open and instinctively he closed his hand around the Glock lying at his side. What had he heard? He lay perfectly still, hoping to hear the sound again.

  Earlier, he’d tossed a blanket and pillow on the way-too-short sofa and spread out to catch some shuteye. The closer to Mackenzie’s bedroom he slept, the faster he could protect her. He’d trained himself to sleep light when on assignment, so whatever woke him might have been nothing more than the wind against the windows. Or, it might have been the click of a lock, the slide of a door, a footstep on the kitchen’s ceramic tile.

  Wide awake now, he deciphered as much as he could as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Every window in the penthouse was covered in expensive room-darkening shades. She’d gotten her money’s worth, because only a faint glow of city lights trickled inside.

  Ka-bing. Whoosh…ka-bing.

  Grabbing his night goggles from the coffee table, he vaulted the side chair, landing just outside her room. The muffled sound had come from inside. He clicked the goggles in place then dropped to his belly as he inched the door open. Someone inside the room would fire high the first time, giving him time to react.

  Ka-bing. Whoosh…thud.

  Hydraulics?

  His instincts flashed—she wasn’t in the room. He jumped to his feet, fumbling for the light switch as he slammed the goggles to the floor.

  “Mackenzie?” He raced to the master bath. To the walk-in room of a closet. He retraced his steps to the bedroom and checked the balcony doors. Locked. “Mackenzie?”

  No one could have made it past him in the living room. He scanned her bedroom for signs of a struggle. None. Her barely tousled sheets had been turned back as if she was going for a glass of water. This didn’t make sense. Unless she wasn’t gone. Maybe she had a safe room. Why would she have gone there instead of calling out for him?

  Starting at the edge of the oversize, floor-length mirror, he walked the perimeter of the room, slapping the walls for any variation in sound. None. Where the hell was she? Every second counted.

  The only other place connected to the penthouse was the private garage. The one he’d moved his truck into after getting all his supplies upstairs last night. He’d made sure people saw him go down in the regular elevator. Made sure everyone saw him come back in the front door of Hotel MacKenzie and take the regular elevator back up to the penthouse level.

  Could be the biggest deterrent to anyone out there tonight would be them knowing he was spending the night…in the penthouse…with Macki. They’d assume he’d be waiting for them. They’d assume right.

  While in the garage, he’d noted the position of her private elevator, trying to position it in his mind in connection with the penthouse layout. Trouble was, they’d never gotten around to a full tour of her place. Macki had been adamant about keeping him out of her bedroom and bath. When he’d asked about the elevator position, all she’d said was that it was in her bedroom.

  Made sense. And, for security’s sake, Drake would have insisted the entrance be hidden. Where? Someplace large enough to hide a doorway. Somewhere—

  He popped the rim of the triple mirror—it moved, then suctioned back in place. What the hell? He grabbed the side and yanked. With the ease of liquid, it opened, revealing the small elevator door.

  He pried the elevator doors apart with his fingers and sheer strength. The shaft before him was empty except for the long steel cables. He’d heard more of a hydraulic sound; evidently the cables had been installed for added safety. Looking down, he saw what appeared to be a four-person elevator car stopped at the bottom.

  Maybe she’d simply forgotten something and gone to the garage to get it. Or? Or he could be overreacting. If so, someone could yell at him tomorrow.

  Muffled voices echoed up the shaft. More than two. Maybe three. Kidnappers? Drake had been smart to install an escape route for her. Maybe someone on the installation team had sold out the place and the code. Otherwise, someone had broken into the private garage, made their way up the elevator, and taken Macki while she slept.

  He braced his feet against the sides of the elevator doors to keep them open then ripped his T-shirt over his head and wrapped it around his hand. Timing his movements to coincide, he leaped toward the elevator cable. Grabbing the metal, he wrapped his legs around and rappelled down, hoping she’d put an escape hatch in the top of the car. If not, he’d be hand-over-hand climbing back up until he reached the one out-take place he’d seen on his way down.

  Gliding to the elevator’s top, he made a silent landing. The muffled voices became more distinct…one man…one woman…and Mackenzie. They weren’t in the elevator car.

  Quickly, he drew his gun, tugged slowly on the handle attached to the escape hatch and slipped inside the enclosure. Quiet as beer down the side of a frozen mug.

  From this angle, the reflection in the round security mirror outside the open el
evator door gave him a murky position of the three people. He tucked his gun in the back of his jeans waistband, knowing he had only one chance to surprise and take out the man. Meanwhile, Macki’s cop instincts would kick in, and she’d follow his lead by flooring the woman.

  Hunching to make himself a smaller target, he charged out the doorway. He aimed his shoulder ramrod straight at the male target’s midsection, and the man dropped with a thud. Josh rolled him onto his belly and straddled him.

  Instead of moving to take down the woman standing by the SUV, Macki yanked on Josh’s arm. “Stop. Stop. You’re hurting him.”

  The man beneath him growled in pain, but still fought to get his hand free. From what he could feel against the inner side of his thigh pressed against the man’s chest, the man had a gun stashed in a holster strapped under his arm. Now both women were beating against his back as Macki pleaded with him to stop.

  Josh jumped to his feet, pulling his gun as he settled into his shoot-to-kill stance. What the hell was wrong with this scenario? “Macki, get behind me. Now!”

  “Don’t shoot. This is my chauffeur, Ed Rodgers. You can trust him.” She eased herself across the man on the concrete and flattened her palm toward Josh. “Earlier, he texted he needed to leave town. I told him to stop by. That I wanted to see for myself he was okay.”

  The situation settled in his brain. Sure, Drake had mentioned Ed by name, said he could trust him, but that was before last night’s attack. There was still the question of how they’d gotten the drop on the chauffeur. “Doesn’t matter who he is. He may have lured you down here on some pretense, so he and his partner can kidnap you.” He nodded at the woman stroking the man’s forehead. “Give me the gun from his holster. Now!”

  Mackenzie retrieved the gun and handed the weapon off to Josh. “No one lured me down here. Uncle Drake assigned Ed to me not long after my parents died. He’s been with me forever.” She pointed to the woman. “This is his wife, Darla.”

  Just because someone had been okay when Drake had put them in place years ago didn’t mean they were okay now. Something felt off about a middle-of-the-night meeting in a private garage. For all he knew, the chauffeur could have been in on the attempted kidnapping on D Street.

  He motioned to the man and woman still on the floor. “Get up. Nice and easy.”

  Darla reached to help her husband, but he pushed her away and rolled onto his side with a grunt. He struggled to bend his leg as he reached downward.

  “Don’t even think about it, man.” He zeroed his Glock in on the chauffeur. “Understand?”

  The man nodded as he rolled to a sitting position, keeping his hands in his lap.

  Josh motioned the two women to stand at the side wall, while he stayed focused on the man sitting on the concrete. “Now, pull the gun from the leg holster and shove it across the room. Nice and slow.”

  The man complied, sliding the gun a few yards away.

  “Leave Ed alone.” Macki reached toward Josh’s arm.

  “Shut up and get back against the wall.”

  She stepped back. “You’re crazy. My chauffer has always had a permit to carry a gun.”

  Staying completely focused on the driver, Josh ignored her. But something in the way the man handled the weapon’s holster release triggered a familiar skill set. One Drake had taught him years ago. “Where’s the knife?”

  “Take it easy, fella. I’m on your side. I’m OPAQUE.” Ed held his hands up in front of himself, palms facing outward, then slowly reached to his pants leg and pulled apart the seam midway down the thigh. He eased his hand in, keeping the other in plain view, and came out with a knife.

  Not as big as the one Josh kept strapped to his thigh in the same location, but big enough to do damage. Every agent Drake had trained knew the easy hideaway that could be quick-released with the Velcro seam. “Backup blade?”

  “No. I swear. Okay if I get up?”

  The chauffeur might have only one knife, but Josh carried two. His theory, any pat-down would stop once either blade was found. He lowered his gun a notch and nodded for the man to stand. The guy might be who he said he was, but Josh never let his guard down. The two women walked back into the group.

  Clutching his left arm tight against his ribs, the man rose and held out his right hand. “You must be Josh Slater. Drake said you were coming.”

  “I guess you’re the contact he said should be able to help me. Did I hurt you?” Josh tucked the gun behind his back again, but kept his palm on the grip. “I forgot. What was the code the boss gave you before your first assignment?”

  “Nice try. You know there aren’t agent codes.” The stocky chauffeur grinned and glanced at the two women. His dark hair showed no gray and his dark brown eyes showed no fear. “At least none that could be repeated in front of the ladies.”

  Josh relaxed enough to shake the man’s hand.

  Stepping in front of Ed, Mackenzie set her jaw and tilted her head in question. “Drake set you up as my driver to keep an eye on me?”

  He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’m feeling as if my whole life has been nothing but one lie after another.” She glanced at Josh then back to Ed. “I’m sure you’ve had more important work than babysitting me for the past ten years.”

  “I could have turned down the long-term assignment.” The man straightened his shirt. “Don’t think I took the job because I couldn’t hold my own in the world of crime. I wasn’t always a man on the late side of my forties. There was a time I could have taken Josh and three others like him at the same time.”

  For a moment, Josh wondered if he was hearing himself twenty years from now. Would some young muscle call him to task? Challenge his speed? His trust? Worst of all, would an agent disbelieve him like he’d just done with Ed Rodgers?

  Mackenzie touched the chauffeur’s arm. “Thank you.”

  The man gave a quick nod in response. “You’re wrong about one thing, though. Keeping an eye on the daughter of the man who built OPAQUE and turned it into a group feared by Coercion Ten…that’s more than important in my book.”

  She hugged the driver. “When I think of the times you were there for me. All the times you let me cry on your shoulder or grump at you when my day was bad. I’ll never be able to repay you for your service.”

  “Now hold on one minute. You don’t owe me anything.” Ed stepped back out of her hold. “I’ve done my job and always will. I’ll admit there may have been times you tested my will, but I didn’t have to stay. One call to Drake, and he’d have found someone else to take my place.”

  Josh grinned. He knew Mackenzie’s ability to test the waters to see how far she could push. He might have to consider giving this man a medal for staying so long. At least someone had stayed for her.

  Darla, petite with a cherub face that looked old for its years, stepped close to her husband as he cupped his arm across her shoulder. “Tell her what you told me.”

  Ed shook his head.

  “Go ahead and tell her. She needs to know.”

  The man took Macki’s hands in his. “I stayed because you’re a good woman. You carried on your mother’s charity work. Turned this hotel into a place to be proud of.” He cleared his throat. “Most of all, every time life knocks you down, you stand back up and give it hell. For that, I’ll drive you anyplace you want to go.”

  Ed kissed his wife’s cheek. “There now, it’s said and done. You happy?”

  His wife smiled then stood on tiptoes and kissed his cheek in return. Within moments, she and Mackenzie were huddled together in conversation.

  The aging OPAQUE agent retrieved his weapons, checked them, and secured them in place, pressing his pant seam back together as the final bit of transformation. Nonchalant, the chauffeur motioned Josh to follow him. “Coercion Ten knows you’re here.”

  Josh straightened, rolling his shoulders backward. “Doesn’t surprise me after last night. I probably slammed to the top of their list fast.”

  He followed
Ed’s lead across the private garage until they were well out of hearing of the women. When the man leaned against the hood of the SUV, Josh mirrored the stance. “What’s wrong?”

  “About ten minutes ago, Darla’s phone rang. She didn’t recognize the number, so I answered.” Ed glanced in his wife’s direction. “It was CT. Said either I play along with them, or Darla would disappear. They spelled out in real clear terms how they’d keep her alive until our child was born, then sell the baby to the highest bidder.” He clenched his fist and ground it into the hood until the metal popped. “That’s when we jumped in the truck and made a beeline over here. We got nothing more than the clothes on our back.”

  “Son of a bitch.” Josh stretched his neck to loosen the knot closing in on his throat. Leverage was hard to ignore, even for an OPAQUE agent.

  Ed tucked a piece of crumpled paper into Josh’s hand. “We’ve only known a couple of days that Darla’s pregnant. This is a list of everyone we’ve told. Those names should give you a start on your clues.”

  Shoving the paper into his pocket, he realized how close he was to finding the head man. “Top priority right now is to get you and your wife into hiding.”

  “I already contacted Drake. We’ll be ghosts in less than an hour.”

  “Good.” Agents, or anyone else, who OPAQUE helped disappear for their own safety, were referred to as ghosts. Sometimes they made it, sometimes they didn’t. He hoped to hell Ed and Darla were lucky ones.

  The garage door creaked and the two men each jerked in its direction, hands on their guns. Even Macki and Darla turned to the sound. Wind…nothing there but the wind snaking through the panels.

  “Ed?” Darla called out.

  “It’s nothing, honey. You and Mackenzie finish your conversation.”

  Darla smiled as the two women leaned their heads close in conversation again. Josh noticed Ed’s expression. Shoulders and breathing had inched into protector mode for his wife.