Arresting Developments (15 page)

“Right here, right here.” Her voice sounded from behind him. “You were so busy talking to Garreth that you didn’t notice when I came into the room.”

“Well, that’s a scary thought.”

She shrugged. “No harm.” She smiled down at the bed. “Nice to see you awake, Mr. Jackson. Let’s see about stitching you up and getting that fever down, okay?”

“If it will make this jerk stop pressing on my stomach, I’m up for anything.”

Garreth held still like a trouper for Amber to stitch him up, in spite of not having anything more powerful than the headache powder to dull the pain. It was when she and Dex tried to roll him over to check for other injuries that he passed out again.

“What’s wrong with him?” Dex asked, worried that they’d hurt him by rolling him over.

Amber finished feeling along his back and motioned for Dex to lay him down before replying. “His belly isn’t distended and I don’t see any more injuries. I think he’s just exhausted and passed out from that and the pain of being moved. I’m certainly no doctor but I don’t think he has any internal bleeding. I think your friend’s going to be fine.”

“You should have let him bleed to death,” a familiar masculine voice called out from the doorway.

Dex clawed for his gun.

“Draw on me and I’ll shoot both of you.”

Dex forced his hand to relax and stared in disbelief at the man he’d trusted and worked with for years. “What’s going on, Mitchell?” He positioned himself in front of Amber, hoping to shield her.

“Oh, how sweet. You
are
a couple, aren’t you? That was pretty obvious from the get-go. Well, now it’s my turn to answer the question you asked our dear friend Garreth there. I do have a girlfriend. Or I
did
, until you
stole
her from me and then cast her aside like garbage, like you do
all
your women.” His hand tightened on the pistol he was pointing at Dex. “And her name really was Veronica Walker.”

Dex blinked in surprise. “I knew Derek dated Ronnie a while back. But I never knew that you—”

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear it.”

“But this doesn’t make sense. Why are you doing this?”

Mitchell raised the gun higher, squarely pointing it at Dex’s chest. “I don’t want to hear anything else come out of your mouth except ‘yes, sir.’ Understood?”

Dex flexed his fingers, dearly wishing he could draw his gun. “Yes, sir,” he gritted out.

“Toss the gun on the bed. Oh, and Miss Callahan, toss your knife on the bed, too. Quickly. We don’t have much time.”

Not seeing a way out without risking getting Amber shot, Dex laid his gun on the bed while Amber discarded her knife.

“Why don’t we have much time?” Dex asked.

“Well, because of the floodwaters, of course. The rain may have stopped, but the water’s still rising as the runoff from higher ground drains down onto this property. I should know. I’ve spent a lot of time outside since we got here. In fact, I’d say I know this property just about as well as Miss Callahan now. Maybe better.”

“And why do we care about the rising floodwaters?” Dex pressed.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you yet? Because if you don’t get to Derek soon, he’ll drown, of course. The water will be going over his head. He’s tied to the maintenance shed. If you hurry, you just might be able to save him. Of course, the question is, will I shoot you
before
you do, or
after
?” He shrugged. “Who knows?” He stepped away from the door and motioned with his gun. “Get moving.”

Derek. How could Dex have ever doubted his friend? And now both Derek and Amber were in danger because of his clouded judgment.

He pulled Amber with him toward the door, keeping himself between her and Mitchell’s gun.

Chapter Sixteen

Amber hesitated halfway down the staircase with Dex at her side and Mitchell a few steps behind him. Her toes curled inside her sneakers. Mitchell had been right. The water was still rising even though the rain had stopped and there was no more lightning or thunder. She didn’t know how many stairs were underneath the water, but the brackish mess was halfway up the front door. What worried her more than the water was what was under that water. Could a gator have worked its way through one of the windows or the back door?

“Move,” Mitchell ordered, from behind her and Dex. “Head to the kitchen and the back porch.”

She exchanged a glance with Dex. His brow was furrowed with concern and he gave her a barely perceptible nod, as if to reassure her. She nodded to let him know she was okay. But she really wished she had her knife right now. Or the Colt .45 that they’d been forced to leave back with Garreth. Thank God, she’d finished sewing up his wounds before Mitchell got to them. At least Garreth would have a chance now.

But what about Derek? Was he even still alive? And why was Mitchell doing this? She couldn’t imagine that Dex would have treated Veronica so poorly that Mitchell felt bound by some kind of old-fashioned honor code to defend her this way. And even if he did, why had he killed Mallory? She desperately wished she could talk to Dex, that they could try to figure this out together. But she was afraid to do more than breathe after the way Mitchell had pointed his gun at Dex back in the bedroom and ordered him not to say anything.

She held the banister and plopped her foot down to the next stair, splashing into the water. Dex stepped into the water with her, matching her step for step. He was obviously doing everything he could to stay glued to her side, to protect her if he could. But nothing could protect either of them if Mitchell decided to pull the trigger or they stepped on a water moccasin.

Another step, the carpet runner squishing beneath her feet. Another, another. Soon the water was up to her chest, but thankfully her feet were on the floor now. It wouldn’t get any deeper. The water was only up to Dex’s hips. He reached for her hand and held it tightly as they waded forward.

“Watch out for snakes,” she whispered, hoping Mitchell wouldn’t hear her and retaliate for her talking. “And gators.”

He cursed and watched the water around them with renewed interest.

Mitchell splashed down into the water behind them, not close enough for her or Dex to try to overpower him but not far enough away that he couldn’t still shoot them or give them the opportunity to dodge around a corner and hide.

Amber plowed forward through the maze of rooms, through the great room and into the kitchen. She was amazed that the electricity was still on in this part of the house. She’d have expected the water to short-circuit the lights. The kitchen was as bright as ever but looked utterly bizarre with the deep freeze up on the island, water lapping at its base. The familiar hum had her skin crawling at the knowledge that a body was inside that freezer.

Dex squeezed her hand, as if to lend her strength and keep her calm. She glanced up at him as they continued toward the back door where Mitchell had told them to go.

“If there’s any way for me to jump him, I will,” he whispered. “And you need to run back in and get to Buddy, get the guns and hide somewhere.”

“I’m not leaving you,” she muttered.

His jaw tightened but he didn’t say anything else because Mitchell splashed up behind them.

“Onto the porch,” he ordered.

Dex wrestled the door open against the current and stepped out onto the porch. Or what was left of it. Amber couldn’t believe the destruction she was seeing as she joined him. They both held on to the posts where the railings were attached, or had been. She moved her foot forward and encountered nothing where she knew a railing should be. Behind the house, trees were down, their branches rising out of the water like ghostly fingers ready to snare an unsuspecting person in their grasp.

“Dex,” a voice called out. “Dex!”

Amber followed Dex’s gaze. As Mitchell had said, Derek was tied to the post that supported the overhang of the maintenance building fifty yards away. His hands were above his head, roped to the post. And he was struggling to keep his chin above the waves the current made as it lapped against the building.

“Go ahead,” Mitchell said. “Go help your friend. Unless you want to save your own hide, like always. That’s what I’d expect you to do, of course—stay here and watch out for your own safety rather than brave that murky water. Because that’s what you do, put yourself before others.”

Dex took a step toward Mitchell.

Mitchell raised the gun toward his head. “Give me a reason, boss. I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time.”

“Really? How long? Before or after you sabotaged my plane?”

Mitchell laughed, the same eerie laugh Dex had heard in the passageway outside Amber’s bedroom earlier tonight. Maybe if he’d paid more attention to his employees, to the people in his life, he’d have recognized that laugh. And he’d have known earlier who the killer was. Of course, Mitchell had already disappeared by then, so it wouldn’t have mattered. But what did matter right now was saving Amber and Derek and the others inside. He just wished he knew how he was going to manage all that.

“Mitchell, you’re not a bad person. I know something must have happened to make you snap. A jury would understand that, too. Stop this, before it goes too far.”

Mitchell sneered at him. “Too far? I’ve already killed Mallory. I’d say I’ve already gone too far. I didn’t mean to kill her, you know. She caught me sneaking into your room with a gun. It was you that I wanted to kill. I shot her without thinking about it.”

Dex edged closer to Mitchell. Amber looked toward the maintenance building. Derek’s cries were getting weaker. She didn’t know how much longer he could keep his chin above the water.

“You panicked then,” Dex said, his voice soothing as he spoke to his assistant. “People will understand that. Like you said, you didn’t mean to kill—”

“Stop it,” Mitchell shouted. He wrapped both hands around his pistol and shook it at Dex. “Just stop it. You and your smooth talking. Do you think I’m stupid?”

Dex held his hands up placatingly. “Of course not. I think you’re very smart. You’ve been practically running my company for years. You do a far better job than I ever could.”

“Damn straight, I do.” Mitchell lowered the gun ever so slightly. “And what do I get for it? I get to watch you, year after year, treat people like they’re nothing.”

“Mitchell—”

“Let me finish! You do, you know. You act all nice and polite on the surface, but do you really care about anyone? No. We’re all replaceable, interchangeable. Me. Ronnie. Mallory. I liked Mallory, you know, even though she didn’t like me back. Ronnie does, though. She loves me. Because after you threw her away, after you broke her, she came back to me again. You didn’t know that, did you? I was there to help her pick up the pieces, to make her realize she had worth. To let her know she mattered and shouldn’t have been thrown away like that. You don’t give a damn about anyone, Dex. I thought killing you with the plane crash would be quick and painless and would end it all without anyone else getting hurt. I was being merciful. But, of course, you had to survive—the golden boy. Well, now I’m teaching you a lesson before you die. Because for the first time ever, I’ve figured out what you really care about.”

“Mitchell, look, I’m—”

“Don’t you even want to know what it is?” he shouted.

“Of course, of course. What do I care about?”

Mitchell swore. “Even now, you don’t know. Because you’re shallow, empty. Move, get over there.”

“No.”

Amber stiffened behind Dex. She wanted to see Mitchell’s reaction, but Dex kept adjusting his position every time she tried to look around him. He was keeping himself firmly between the two of them.

“Dex?” Derek cried weakly across the darkness.

“Give me the gun, Mitchell,” Dex said. “No one else has to get hurt. Let me help Derek and then we’ll sit down and talk about what I’ve done to wrong you. I’ll make it right. I promise.”

A guttural, pained sound like that from a wounded animal came from Mitchell. Water swished. Amber looked back at the wall of windows in the kitchen. She could see his reflection now. He’d waded through the water and was standing directly in front of Dex, with his pistol jammed against Dex’s forehead.

“Don’t tell me what to do ever again,” Mitchell spit out. “Now, go save Derek like a good boy. And the one thing you care about, the one
person
you care about, will stay here. With me.” He suddenly reached around Dex for Amber.

Dex grabbed Mitchell’s arm and shoved the gun up toward the ceiling. “Run, Amber! Run!”

The two men struggled for the gun. It went off, firing into the porch ceiling. They fell backward, a tangle of arms, with Mitchell snarling and cursing at Dex as they both struggled for control of the pistol. They fell into the water and disappeared below the surface.

Amber took a deep breath and crouched down under the water, but when she opened her eyes she couldn’t see anything and the burn and sting of the dirty water had her squeezing her eyes shut again. She felt the water move violently around her and she hurriedly stood up above the surface again, wiping at her eyes as she tried to see what was happening.

Dex and Mitchell were standing up again, pressed against the back of the house, still fighting for the gun. Dex managed to free one arm and swung his fist toward Mitchell’s jaw. Mitchell jerked to the side before it could connect.

“Amber, get the hell out of here,” Dex yelled at her, meeting her gaze in the reflection in the windows.

She realized several things at once. There was nothing she could do to help Dex in his deadly struggle with Mitchell without getting in the way. She was distracting him by staying here. But there was one thing she could do to help. She could save Derek.

She moved toward the edge of the porch.

“Amber, no, it’s too dangerous!” Dex cried, confirming her fear that she was distracting him.

“Don’t worry about me,” she yelled back. “I’ve got this.” She jumped into the water.

* * *

D
EX
LET
OUT
a guttural roar and crashed his fist into the side of Mitchell’s face. Mitchell grunted in pain but didn’t let go of the pistol. Dex twisted violently, renewing his struggles in a frenzy, but it took all his strength to keep from getting swept away in the current and still keep Mitchell from lowering the gun and aiming it toward Amber.

Dear God, Amber. He couldn’t believe she’d jumped into the water. He had to help her.

“I’m sorry for whatever you think I did to you,” he yelled. “Killing Amber or anyone else isn’t going to make up for it, though.”

Mitchell snarled and kicked toward him, but the force of the water slowed his movements and Dex was able to turn his thigh to block him. Still, the blow knocked him back enough so that Mitchell was able to tug his non-gun hand loose from Dex’s hold and put both hands on the pistol. Slowly and surely he began to turn the pistol down toward Dex’s head.

Dex swore and shoved Mitchell harder against the house. The mad light in Mitchell’s eyes told him there was no reasoning with him. And, damn, the man was stronger than he looked. Dex grabbed the pistol with both hands and lifted his feet. He crashed back against the water’s surface, pulling Mitchell down with him under the water.