Extreme Measures (16 page)

Read Extreme Measures Online

Authors: Rachel Carrington

Tags: #til we meet again, #Romantic Suspense, #extreme measures, #in too deep, #burning reflections, #murder mystery, #rachel carrington, #thriller

Pain ratcheted through Erin’s body. Common sense had told her she was chasing a fleeting dream when she’d gotten into the cab, but she had to take that chance. Matt would call it foolish, reckless, but Hal had come into her life at a time when she had no one, quickly making himself a part of her world. Like a comfortable pair of sweats, he’d grown familiar to her. For that alone, she’d wanted to try to save him.

“Do you know where he is?” Her voice broke.

The glare Stuart gave her screamed disinterest. “No, I don’t know where he is, and I don’t care. And his dead carcass is the last thing you should be worried about right now.”

Erin winced at the words but didn’t look away from her brother’s cold stare. “You don’t know for sure Hal is dead.”

Stuart snorted. “I know Billy Chambers. He don’t leave witnesses alive.”

“I’ve heard you don’t either.” She softened her voice, but it didn’t affect the coldness in her brother’s gaze.

“Yeah, well, that’s one thing you learn in prison real fast. If you’re going to off someone, make sure you’re not seen, and eliminate the problem if you are.”

Erin wanted to cry, but she bit back the tears. Crying for Hal would serve no purpose now. She needed to survive, to ensure her friend got the justice he deserved. And now that Matt knew she’d gone to her brother, he’d stop at nothing to find her. That raised the odds in her favor. “There isn’t a way out of this. You and your friend should have picked a better hiding place than on a busy street in downtown Charleston.”

She didn’t kid herself. No amount of communication would ever reach the brother she once knew, but talking was all she had right now to buy Matt some time.

He held up the gun, tapped the barrel lightly against his cheek. “There’s always a way out when you have a gun, sis.”

The words fell flat with no emotion. Erin shivered in response. Was she looking at a man who’d changed because of his incarceration, or had the prison merely stripped away the façade he’d worn before he’d killed their parents? She wanted to know if this was the real Stuart O’Malley.

It couldn’t be the same boy who’d protected her, had picked her for his softball team even when his friends didn’t want her to play. The big brother who’d covered her with a blanket when she fell asleep on the couch, allowed her to crawl into bed with him when she’d had a nightmare.

That boy wouldn’t be standing before her with a gun he intended to use against her. Her breathing hitched, and she inhaled deeply to regain focus, forcing herself to see beyond the gawky adolescent who’d taught her how to drive even though she wasn’t old enough.

“You can’t outshoot the police, and even if they aren’t out there yet, they will be soon. Matt knows where I am.” She’d never been a good liar, but she had to use what she had at her disposal.

Stuart let her see his grin. “Oh, I don’t doubt that, sis. If my brother-in-law is anywhere in this city, it’s right outside these doors. Bastard’s always been good at his job, nose like a bloodhound, but what he doesn’t know is I’ve had plenty of time to do some thinking. And a thinking man is the one who wins.”

The first loud pop jerked Erin away from the wall. Her heart thundering in her chest, she scrambled to her feet. “What was that?”

Shrinking back against the concrete wall, Stuart looked as stunned as she felt. “Sounded like gunfire.” He rounded the room and peered up through the thin slit of a window next to one of the water heaters. “Can’t see much of anything, though.” He chuckled. “Maybe the police are just practicing.”

Matt was out there. In the middle of gunfire. Erin sank back down to the floor before her knees gave way. Another shot had her drawing her knees up to her chest. “Something’s wrong.”

With a sneer, Stuart turned to look at her. “Something’s always wrong when there’s gunfire involved, Rin-Tin.”

Her nickname. She hadn’t heard it in years. Because Stuart had been the only one who called her that, a play on her name once she’d gotten braces. The reminder of the youth caused hope to flare within her.

“Haven’t heard that in a while,” she whispered, summoning a smile, though it didn’t feel genuine.

“You might have had you bothered to come see me.” Any trace of warmth she might have imagined she heard had evaporated from his voice. He gave her his full attention. “Why is that, sis?”

Erin met his gaze, facing her demons as well as his. “You killed our parents, Stuart. What exactly did you think was going to happen? I’d come visit you once or twice a week and we’d play cards, maybe reminisce about our childhood? You had to know that was going to have some kind of effect on our relationship.”

The hot splash of fury flooded his face. “I ask you a simple question, and you give me a smart-ass answer?” Stuart waved the gun around his head in a circle. “Do you not see what I’m holding here, Erin? Are you stupid? You don’t talk smart to someone holding a gun, especially someone who’s gone through hell just to see you.”

She didn’t back down from his shouts. “You didn’t come to see me, Stuart. You came to kill me. So I doubt it makes a difference how I talk to you.”

Stuart’s lip curled. “I see my brother-in-law has been doing some talking.” He snapped his fingers. “Oh, wait. That’s ex-brother-in-law, isn’t it? Heard about the marriage breaking up. Can’t say I was sorry to hear it, but I was a little surprised to discover Matt was here in the city anyway. I didn’t think you’d go crawling back to him because of me.”

Erin eyed the door even though she knew she couldn’t make a run for it. Not as long as Stuart held the gun. “Matt came looking for me actually. You had to know the FBI would get involved when you broke out of prison. He
is
still FBI.”

“Oh, yeah. I never doubted that. He loves his job too much to quit, even more than he loves you apparently.” Stuart walked toward her, his eyes glassy. “How did it feel when he walked out on you, when he chose the job over your marriage?”

She didn’t flinch at the barbs, mainly because he was so far off the mark. But the last thing she was going to discuss with her brother was the dissolution of her marriage. “What are you waiting for, Stuart? If you’re going to kill me, why don’t you just do it and get it over with?”

“In a hurry to die? Whatsa matter? Matt reject you again?” He squatted down in front of her, tapped her knee with the muzzle of the gun. “If you want, I can put a bullet in him first. Just for old times’ sake.” His grin dripped of evil.

It took all the energy she possessed not to lunge at her brother. But he wanted to push her buttons, goad her into responding. She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. “If I were you, I’d be more concerned about the bullets flying outside this building. You never know if one of them has your name on it.” The lightness of her tone did the trick.

Stuart glared at her and leaped to his feet then stomped back to the window. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Always thought you were smarter than me.”

“The only time I thought I was smarter than you was when you turned to drugs. We’d both been taught better than that.”

Another pop, this one much closer and louder than the previous two, silenced Stuart. He tugged a rope from the back pocket of his jeans and returned to her, his face a mask of rage. “Give me your hands.”

Tying her up meant he was leaving her. The knowledge gave her a little bit of hope. Erin offered her hands obediently.

“You’re gonna stay right here while I go see what’s going on. Then you and I are gonna have ourselves a talk, Rin-Tin.” He stroked her hair, and for a fleeting moment, Erin thought she saw regret in his eyes. Maybe it was just what she wanted to see, for a second later, the coldness had returned his to his gaze. He dragged her further away from the door, yanked her wrists tightly together, and secured them around a long pipe protruding from a line of water heaters.

“Why would you be interested in talking, Stuart?” Erin captured his attention before he stood.

His eyes scrunched for a second as though thinking about how he should respond. Then he shrugged. “Maybe there are some answers I want.” His head swiveled, his gaze searching the room.

“Doesn’t mean I’ll give them to you.” Erin followed his line of sight, saw him reach for a knife strapped to his waist. Her heart pounded so loud it drowned out her heavy breaths. “Stuart, what are you doing?”

He winked. “Just preparing a little insurance, that’s all. I can’t leave you knowing you’d live if I don’t make it back alive. That would defeat my entire reason for breaking out of prison.”

“I thought you said you wanted to have a talk with me.” Sweat ran in a thin line down between her breasts.

“Oh, I do, but I can’t take any chances. If I don’t make it back here in thirty minutes, give or take a few, well, let’s just say my ex-brother-in-law will be picking out a casket for you. If I do make it back, you’ll survive for a little while longer. ‘Course, you’ll have one hell of a headache, maybe even some brain damage.”

Stuart shuffled to the wall, running his hands along the black lines hooked to the concrete. “See, this here water heater runs on gas, Rin-Tin, which means it has a combustion chamber. Those things produce carbon monoxide. You just let that vent get clogged, and all that stuff just backs up right in here.”

The lump in her stomach couldn’t grow any bigger without exploding. “It’s nice to know you picked up some extra knowledge in prison.”

Stuart continued on as if she hadn’t spoken. “It won’t be easy, of course, but I used to keep Mom and Dad’s water heater running. They probably never told you that, did they? Anyway, the good news is it won’t be a painful death. Well, that’s good news for you. I’d much rather make it as excruciating as possible.”

“Why? Because I wouldn’t visit you in prison?” Fighting back hysteria, Erin shouted the question. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Stuart! You can’t be so psychotic that you’d want to kill your sister because I didn’t send you packages or light candles for you at church.”

He turned, his eyes blazing with fury. “Psychotic? Is that what Matt told you I was? Because let me tell you, sister. I’m so very far from psychotic. In fact, I’m probably thinking clearer now than I ever have before.”

“Is that because you’re drug-free?” She tried to draw his attention away from the lines, hold him off until help could arrive. If help was even out there. She didn’t know who was shooting and if it was friend or foe. But the longer she kept Stuart from severing that gas line, the longer she had to live.

With a snort, he ran his hands up toward the top of the water heater, standing on tiptoe to reach the vent. “The drugs actually make me think better. You should be thankful for that. If I was withdrawing, you probably wouldn’t have made it this long.”

“The drugs make you think better? Is that what you told yourself when you butchered our parents?”

“They deserved to die!” Stuart spun and shouted, his words echoing off the concrete walls. “You have no idea what those two put me through with their sanctimonious lectures and ultimatums. They were so pious in their hatred of me, and you know what?” He returned to her, dropping to his knees in front of her again. “They both begged me not to kill them. That’s right. They begged
me
. For the first time in my life, they needed something from me.”

Horror had sunk into her bones, and all Erin could do was rock back and forth in an attempt to quell the shivers. “And you didn’t give it to them.”

His lips curled back in a sneer. “I’ve never been the giving type.”

“Just do what you’re going to do, Stuart.” Suddenly tired, Erin wanted him gone. If this was going to end, if her life was over, she’d rather die alone than listen to any more of her brother’s lunacy.

He reached out, stroked her face, frowning when she shrank away from him. “Too good to let me touch you, huh?” He shook his head. “You should have stuck by me, Erin.” His hand caressed her hair again, and there was nowhere for her to go, no way to stop the stroke of his fingers against her scalp.

Hot tears burned her eyes, but she fought them back, somehow managing a fragile hold on self-control. “You know, Matt was right. You never should have been given a life sentence. If you’d been sitting on death row, you wouldn’t have been able to escape.”

Cursing, Stuart staggered to his feet. “I should have killed you the night I killed them. You and Matt both. I could have done it easily enough.”

Knowing Matt, Erin doubted it, but before she could say it, another shot pinged a window a floor above, and the sound of shattering glass captured Stuart’s attention. He cursed again, strode back to the water heater, and stabbed his knife into the center of the vent pipe.

Erin didn’t watch him work to ensure her death. When he finished, his shirt was missing, leaving him clad in a dirty t-shirt, and the aluminum pipe was bent at an odd angle. From the smile on his face, she could tell he’d succeeded.

“Oh, don’t look like that, Sis. I kept something so you could remember that I was the one who won this time.” Waving a soiled piece of his shirt in one hand, he approached her. “I can’t have you calling out for help. I mean, we’re in a lower floor and all, and the chances are slim that anyone would, but I don’t believe in taking chances.”

She tried to turn her head to keep him from securing the piece of cotton that smelled of oil and sweat between her lips, but Stuart held her fast, tying the shirt sleeve around her head quickly.

“There. That’s better.” He pushed himself to his feet and winked at her. “Sweet dreams, sis.” He left the room without looking back.

The second he was out of sight, Erin began to twist and turn in a desperate attempt to reach the nail file she’d stashed in her pocket. It might not do much against the ropes, but at least it was a fighting chance.

She estimated the amount of time she’d have before she lost consciousness, decided she’d better go for the alarm first. It might only bring Stuart back to her, but he could have followers.

And she hoped like hell those followers were the good guys.

 

His footsteps echoing on the stairs, Matt eased up each level in the office complex. Two SWAT team members flanked him, high-powered rifles at the ready. He got to the second floor, pressed his back against the wall. With hand signals, he indicated his intention to open the door.

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