Authors: Kat Martin
Kyle surveyed the lodge, then moved closer, circled the structure, and got a glimpse through the windows of what was happening inside. The ruddy-faced, red-haired man he had seen there working was in the kitchen with the woman and child.
From what he could tell, the crew was gone and there was no one else around.
Kyle headed for the guest wing. In less than five minutes, he was inside the house. No one up here used alarm systems. It was almost too easy.
The construction crew had left their gear. He located a roll of duct tape, stuck it into the pocket of his camo pants. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a handful of the plastic ties he always carried, handy for solving any number of problems, then headed down the hall.
Slipping silently through the mammoth living room, he positioned himself outside the door between the formal dining area and the kitchen.
“Anyone hungry?” the older woman asked. “How about you, Paddy? I've got some homemade chocolate chip cookies. Be nice with a glass of ice cold milk.”
“That sounds great, Winnie.”
He could hear the woman, Winnie, moving off toward the refrigerator. As she pulled open the door, Kyle purposely bumped a table, knocking over a small pottery vase sitting on top.
“What was that?” Paddy asked.
“I don't know,” said Winnie.
“I'd better go see.”
Pressing himself back against the wall, Kyle waited. The minute the burly man walked through the door, he stepped behind him. Using the side of his hand, he took him out with a hard chop to the back of his neck. Kyle caught him as he went down, dragged him out of the doorway, and used a plastic tie and piece of duct tape to keep him quiet and out of the way.
“Paddy?” Winnie called out. “Is everything okay?”
Kyle stepped into the doorway. “Everything's just fine.” The woman shrieked at the sound of his voice. “It'll stay that way if you do exactly what I tell you.”
The kid opened her mouth, but no sound came out. He'd never heard her say a word.
“What do you want?” Winnie asked, trembling, her bosom rising and falling with each breath. “What did you do to Paddy?”
“Your friend is fine . . . or he will be as soon as he wakes up.” He smiled. “But since you asked, what I want is some of those chocolate chip cookies.”
Winnie cast a worried glance at the little girl, hurried over to the jar, and pulled out a handful of cookies. They smelled delicious. She set them on the table in front of him. “Take them and go. Leave us alone.”
Kyle grabbed a cookie and stuffed it into his mouth. Damn, it was as good as it smelled. He took the rest and crammed them into a pocket in his jacket.
“I'm going to need the kid to go with me. Emily, right? I've heard you talking to her.”
“You . . . you were in the house?”
“Sure. I've been in a lot of times. Those two college boys made it easy. I just went in through that little door they were using. Harder coming in through a window, but not much. You guys ought to get an alarm system.”
“I want you to leave,” Winnie said. By now the girl was clutching her around the waist, hanging on and looking up at him with big, blue terrified eyes.
He wasn't much of a kid person. He wished he didn't have to take her, but he needed to move things along, and he knew Lane would come after the child.
“I'll leave,” he said. “But Emily goes with me.”
Winnie pulled the kid tighter against her. “You aren't taking her. You'll have to kill me first.”
The ringing started in his head. “Don't say that. I'm not a killer.” The voice kept clamoring, saying something, but he couldn't make out what it was. “It was an accident, okay? I didn't mean to hurt her. It was just a game.”
Winnie looked like she was going to faint. She straightened, and he could tell she was fighting to keep herself together.
“Get out of the house,” she said. “Nick and Caleb will be back any minute. Nick's a policeman. You'd better get out while you can.”
The ringing grew louder, making it hard for him to think.
If you're going to do this, you'd better get moving
, the voice said.
“They're on their way up to the lake. I'll be long gone before they get back. Now give me the girl.” Emily shrunk back against the heavyset woman. She might not be able to talk, but she understood what he meant to do.
“I don't want to hurt you,” he said to her.
The kid started wheezing, trying to say something. Kyle ignored her and started for the woman. She shoved the girl behind her, grabbed a big iron skillet off the stove and swung it as hard as she could. “Run, Emily!”
Kyle ducked the blow meant for his head, but it crashed against his shoulder. It hurt, dammit. But not enough to stop him. He caught the kid as she rushed for the door, hauled her back into the room, turned, and slammed a fist into the woman's jaw. She went down like a sack of wheat.
Now you've done it
, the voice said.
The kid shrieked and started making that wheezing sound again, trying to say something as she backed away from him into a corner. She was crying now and the voice got louder.
You're in it now, aren't you, Kyle? You need to leave. You need to get out of here before they come back and catch you.
He turned his wrath on the girl. “Shut up! You hear me? Just shut the hell up!” She whimpered and he forced himself under control. “Look, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay? I didn't want to hurt your friends. I just need to talk to Lane. She won't come unless I take you with me. Understand?”
She shook her head no, but he could see she understood perfectly. “Come on. I need to get you back to the cabin. We'll wait for Lane there. I'll let you go as soon as she comes to get you. Okay?”
The kid shook her head again. With a sigh of frustration, he grabbed her wrists, forced them together in front of her, and bound them with a plastic tie. He probably didn't need the duct tape, since she couldn't talk anyway, but he didn't want to hear those wheezing noises.
Hoisting the kid over his shoulder, he headed for the door. She struggled for a moment, then went still. Guess she figured there was no way she was going to get away from him.
And she was absolutely right.
Dylan didn't lead Lane and Caleb out of the cover of the forest until he spotted Nick next to the old picket fence around the cemetery.
“No sign of him,” his brother said. “He must have taken off after he took those shots.”
“Gonna be hell trying to find him,” Dylan said as they moved closer to the lodge. “We need to get the State Troopers in here.” He started to pull out his cell, paused when he felt Nick's hand on his arm, saw him motion for them to move into the shadows next to one of the cabins.
“What is it?” Dylan asked softly, once all of them were out of sight.
“I'm not sure. Something doesn't feel right. Seems a little too quiet.”
The hair went up on the back of Dylan's neck. He'd learned to trust his brother's instincts. And his own.
He pulled out his cell. “My phone should be working. Let's call.” Dylan punched the lodge number. Four rings and no one picked up. He shook his head and closed the phone, a hard knot forming in his stomach.
“Oh, God,” Lane said.
“Stay here while I take a look.” Nick pulled his weapon.
Dylan pulled his .44. “I'm with you,” he said. “Stay with Lane,” he told Caleb. Together they moved off toward the house.
At the mudroom entrance, Dylan used his key to unlock the door, trying to make as little noise as possible. Gun in hand, Nick turned the knob and shoved the door open. He waited a second, then slipped inside. Dylan moved in behind him, his pistol in a two-handed grip.
Working together as they moved down the hall, they cleared the office, went into Winnie's rooms and cleared them, then headed for the kitchen. Dylan spotted Winnie, bound and gagged and lying on the floor. Her eyes filled when she saw him.
Dylan's stomach clenched. While Nick kept watch, he knelt beside her and pulled off the gag. “Where's Emily?”
“She's gone,” the older woman said tearfully, a near hysterical note in her voice. “He took her. He wants Lane to come and get her.”
Nick found Paddy in the dining room. He was awake, also bound and gagged. As soon as both of them were free, Dylan signaled to Lane and Caleb that it was safe to come into the house.
“He's got Emily,” Dylan told them as they walked into the kitchen. “He wants to trade her for Lane.”
“Oh, God,” Lane said, sagging down on the bench at the long table next to Winnie. Caleb looked sick.
Dylan turned to Nick. “Do we bring in the police or go after him ourselves?” He trusted his brothers with his life, trusted Nick to know the best way to help his daughter.
Nick raked a hand through his wavy black hair. “At the moment, we don't know where Whitaker's taken her. The troopers will bring in dogs and choppers. Whitaker has a history of mental illness. We can't be sure what he might do.”
“He killed Holly Kaplan.” Winnie sniffed back tears. “He told me it was an accident.” She started crying. “Now he's got our little girl.”
“We'll get her back,” Dylan vowed, so furious he could barely force out the words. “I promise you.” He'd been certain Whitaker had murdered Holly. He was only a little surprised the man had admitted it. “He's got to call. He expects Lane to come to him. Once he gets where he's going, he'll call.”
Lane rose from the bench. “When he calls, I've got to talk to him. I'll tell him I'm coming. That'll keep Emily safe.”
“That's a good idea,” Dylan said. “As long as you understand you aren't really going anywhere near him.”
Lane's chin went up. “That's where you're wrong. I brought this down on all of you. I'm the one who's going to fix it.”
“Not a chance,” Dylan said.
“I'm going,” Lane said. “There's no way I'm letting him hurt that little girl.”
The room fell silent.
“We'll figure it out,” Nick said gently. “Once he calls, we'll decide what to do. Let's see how it all plays out.”
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They sat nervously staring at the three phones lying on the kitchen table. The lodge phone, Lane's next to it, Dylan's next to hers. They had no idea which number Kyle would call.
An hour slid past. “I'll make a check of the house,” Paddy said, just for something to do. Winnie busied herself brewing a fresh pot of coffee while Lane paced the kitchen floor. Dear God, where was Emily? Where had Kyle taken her?
Nausea rolled through her and she trembled. With a last glance at Dylan's grim features, she walked out of the kitchen, through the dining area, across the great hall to the entry. She opened the front door, left it cracked enough so she could hear the phone, and walked out onto the porch.
The wind was blowing, whipping a cold breeze across the bay. The sun had disappeared behind the clouds, leaving the sky a sullen gray.
Fear gripped her. This was all her fault. Kyle was here because of her. He had killed a woman, and now he had Dylan's little girl.
Her chest felt so tight she could barely breathe. Moving to the edge of the porch, she forced in a lungful of air. She didn't hear Dylan approach, didn't know he was behind her until he gently caught her shoulders and turned her into his arms. Fighting back a sob, Lane clung to him. “I'm so sorry,” she said. “So sorry.”
His hold tightened around her. “This isn't your fault, Lane. None of it.” He brushed a finger along her cheek. “We're going to get her back. I swear it.”
But there was no way he could know that for sure.
She glanced up at a sound, realized the phone had started ringing. Both of them raced back into the lodge and ran for the kitchen.
It was Lane's cell phone, with an incoming call from a number she didn't recognize. She grabbed it and pressed the phone against her ear. “Kyle, is that you?”
“Hello, Lane. I've missed you, sweetheart.”
A chill slid down her spine. She held the phone so both Dylan and Nick could hear the conversation. “Where are you, Kyle? Where have you taken Emily?”
“I didn't want to take her. I just need to talk to you.”
“Okay. Where are you? Where's Emily?”
“I'll tell you where we are if you promise to come. You haven't called the police, have you?”
“No. I-I wouldn't do that. Winnie told me you just wanted to see me, talk things out.”
“That's right. I would have called sooner, but you were with Brodie. And . . . some problems came up.”
She knew what those problems were. Finding a way to keep from getting caught after he'd murdered Holly. “Is . . . is Emily all right?”
“She's fine. She wants to go home. I need to see you, Lane. We need to talk. Once we do, you'll see what a perfect match we are. We can go away together.”