Flawless Danger (The Spencer & Sione #1) (21 page)

The door flew open toward her. Startled, Spencer gasped and stepped back but then grabbed the door so it wouldn’t slam against the frame. Using an arm to hold the screen door open, she stared into the condo, her frustration slipping away as the apprehension returned. Wary, she entered the condo.

It was dim inside but the patio, near the living room, allowed a bit of light to filter in through slightly opened vertical blinds. Spencer didn’t understand. Why would Maxine call her, demand to see her, stress the importance of needing to meet to discuss the problem, and then not be at home? Where the hell was she?

Spencer approached the dining area, walking past a table that seated six. Exhaling a shaky breath, Spencer thought maybe she should just leave. Obviously, Maxine wasn’t there. Why? Who knew? And Spencer didn’t care. She was out of there.

Halfway to the door, she stopped, thinking that maybe she should leave a note. Something short and sour.
I showed up. You weren’t here. I left.
She could leave her number for Maxine, with a request to call her. And maybe she could get Maxine’s number.

Using Maxine’s phone, Spencer could call her own cell phone so Maxine’s house number would be displayed on the cell phone caller ID. When Spencer got back to the resort, she could call Maxine from her cell phone. Maybe the woman would be home by then and they could figure out how the hell they’d missed each other.

In the living room, she looked for a pen and paper. After scanning the coffee and end tables and a low bookshelf behind the loveseat, she found nothing.

Spencer glanced over her shoulder again.

The screen door beckoned, begging her to turn and run out of it, but she tried to ignore the strange, sudden panic slicing through her. She needed to find a pen and something to scribble a message across. She’d have to check the bedroom. Maybe there was a study. Walking through an opening in the wall, she headed into a hallway. At the end, to the right, there was a door opened halfway.

She walked to the door, pushed it open, and looked around. A large window offered diffused light through gauzy white curtains, highlighting a queen bed parallel to the window, two night tables on either side of the bed, an armoire across from the bed, and a large chair with several accent pillows to the left of the bed. A floor mirror stood in the corner diagonally across from the door.

Opposite the bed, near the door, an opening led to a short hall connecting the bedroom to the en suite bathroom. Peering into the short hall, she gasped and her heart dropped. Someone was standing in the bathroom. Paralyzed, Spencer opened her mouth to scream and then saw the person standing in the bathroom was opening her mouth. A split second later, realization dawned. She was staring at her own reflection in a framed mirror above a speckled marble counter.

Feeling stupid for being frightened by her own image, Spencer sighed and then told herself to quickly find a pen and paper and write the damn note for Maxine, so she could leave.

As she started to turn, Spencer noticed a set of accordion doors half-opened. Frowning, Spencer inched forward, her gaze drawn to the floor, toward something in the space between the doors. Her heart jerked.

It was a hand.

Lying palm up, the fingers were coated with a dark, wet substance. Blood.

A scream from the pit of her gut rose up her throat and got stuck there, leaving her gasping and coughing, trying to breathe as she stared at the severed hand on the closet floor.

Spencer rushed out into the bedroom, confused and trembling, trying to catch her breath, trying to understand what was happening. A bloody hand on the floor? What the hell? How? Why? Who had cut the hand off? Who did the hand belong to? Where was the body? Was that Maxine Porter’s hand? Why would someone have cut her hand off? Who would have—

A shadowy movement in the far corner near the mirror startled her. Spencer turned toward it, looking across the room at the reflection. It wasn’t her own shocked, terrified face.
 

With sickening horror, she recognized the face glaring back at her. Her pulse racing, she turned and—

The butt of a gun came toward her face.

San Pedro, Belize

Estrella Estates

Cautious, Sione walked to the stucco wall surrounding the porch of unit #309. Pushing the gate open, he tried to ignore the twinge of unease he felt as he stepped inside. His heart lurched slightly as he stared through the glass of the screen door. The front door was open. He could see straight into the condo.

Forgetting about D.J.’s warning to stay out of sight and watch from a distance, Sione opened the screen door and stepped into the condo. The pneumatic hiss of the screen door closing made him wonder if maybe his actions had been a bit too hasty. What if he was walking into some sort of ambush?

He was unarmed in unfamiliar territory. He wasn’t afraid though. His anxiousness and apprehension was reserved for Ms. Edwards. He was worried about her, and right now he was more concerned with where she was and if she was okay.

He wasn’t nervous about some situation he couldn’t get himself out of. He could fight his way out of just about any circumstance. His father had taught him how to deal with disadvantages and handicaps during combat. All those lessons he’d struggled to forget could be lessons he might need.

Continuing into the condo, Sione looked around. It was a simple layout. The open floor plan was basically a large, rectangular space sectioned into separate kitchen, dining, and living areas.

His cell phone vibrated. Stepping into the kitchen, he pulled it from his pocket and stared at the display.
David Jones.
Sione answered.

“Where are you?” his cousin asked.

Sione gave him a quick debriefing, and then asked, “Where are you?”

“Just getting off the ferry,” D.J. said. “What did you say the name of those condos was?”

“Estrella Estates,” Sione said. “North side of the island.”

“Who is she visiting?”

“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Sione said. “I’m in the condo, but—”

“Wait, what?” D.J. asked, his voice rising. “How did you get—”

“I didn’t break in,” Sione said. “The door was open, and—”

A scream cut him off, coming out of nowhere, like a sucker punch.

“What was that?” D.J. demanded. “Sione, what—”

“I gotta go.”

San Pedro, Belize

Estrella Estates

Screaming, Spencer staggered backward, desperate to get away. Her foot skidded and she gasped as her ankle rolled. She stumbled, trying to keep her balance but lost the battle and slipped. She hit the hardwood floor, banging her hip. Wincing, Spencer scrambled to get back to her feet, grabbing the bed table for support as she pulled herself up. Struggling to stay on her feet, she stared at the man standing in front of her, a few feet away, terrified by the green snake etched into the Asian man’s pale, pitted skin.

It was Tommy Fong. The bastard who’d broken into Ben’s townhouse. The asshole who Ben claimed he’d been aiming at even though he’d pointed a gun in Spencer’s face. The son of a bitch who’d broken into the honeymoon casita and tried to tie her up. What the hell was Tommy Fong doing in Maxine’s home?

“What do you want?” Spencer whispered. “Why are you here?”

Fong lunged at her. With a short, startled cry, Spencer reached for the lamp on the bed table, grabbed it, and swung it at Fong. He ducked, and when Spencer swung the lamp again, he grabbed the electric cord and pulled it hard. She lost her grip on the lamp, and it fell, crashing against the hardwood floor. Fong grabbed her.

“Let me go!” She tried to wrestle away from him. “Get away from me!”

He slapped her and then shoved her toward the wall. Just like her mother used to do, Spencer realized, sickened by the abrupt memory. Tiny and frail, she would crash against the thin sheetrock before dropping to the floor. Immediately, Spencer would curl into a ball, screaming in terror, desperate to protect herself, as much as she could, from the kick she knew was coming.

Fong smacked her again. Wincing in pain, she brought her knee up between his legs. Grunting, he clutched his balls, sidestepping away from her. Taking advantage, Spencer ran into the bathroom.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Fong stumbling to his feet. Determined, Spencer scanned the bathroom for a weapon. Spying a can of hairspray, she grabbed the can and then turned. Fong jumped toward her. Aiming the can at the crooked, yellowed teeth he bared, she sprayed, turning her face from the stream of irritant. Howling, he stumbled, fingers furiously rubbing his eyes.

He dropped the gun and Spencer dropped to the ground, reaching for the firearm. Fong swung his foot toward her hand, and the toe of his shoe connected with her wrist. Crying out in pain, Spencer grabbed her wrist as the gun slid across the floor. Fong chased it over to the armoire, then bent over, and scooped it up.

San Pedro, Belize

Estrella Estates

Dropping the cell phone, Sione hurried out of the kitchen and into the dining area before cutting through an opening into a hallway. Heading to the right, he rushed down the hall and through the door. Sione stopped, staring into the bedroom, anger overtaking him.

On the bed, Ms. Edwards screamed and fought, wrestling with a man who straddled her, trying to grab her hands. In the man’s other hand, he held a pistol and was raising his hand as though he meant to whip her with the gun.

Disturbed and enraged, Sione crossed to the bed in two strides, grabbed the man around the back of the neck, and pulled him off the bed, away from Ms. Edwards. The man fell to the floor, screaming something in Chinese. Sione stared at the green snake on the man’s face, following it from the man’s forehead as it slithered down his jaw and around his chin.

It was the Asian guy who’d broken into Ms. Edwards’ casita.

Sione kicked the gun from the man’s grasp, then reached down, yanked the man to his feet, and slung him into the armoire across from the bed. The man struggled to get to his knees. Sione picked up the gun, then walked to the armoire, and grabbed the man.

“Who the hell are you?” Sione asked, moving his hand to the front of the man’s throat, squeezing his trachea. “What are you doing here?”

Twitching and gasping, the man dug his heels into the hardwood floor, trying to pull Sione’s hand away. Sione tightened his hold around the man’s throat and then slammed the gun into the center of the man’s face. Blood seeped from the gash above the man’s left eye, igniting something within Sione, a dark instinct he didn’t try to fight.

He hit the man again, crashing the pistol against the man’s forehead, his jaw, and his nose, drawing blood each time steel connected with flesh. Screaming in pain, the man gasped and gurgled, his body going limp. Tossing the gun to the floor, Sione slammed his fist into the center of the man’s face, over and over and over as he lost control of his rage and fed on it. The anger coursing through him was addictive and intoxicating, and he allowed it to overtake him.

“John, no!” Ms. Edwards’ frantic command cut through the thick fog of rage clouding his mind. “Don’t kill him!”

The trace of fear and confusion in Ms. Edwards’ hoarse cry stopped him. And shamed him. As the haze of fury cleared, Sione stared at the Asian man’s face, repulsed by the bloody gashes and abrasions. Recoiling from the damage he’d inflicted, Sione pushed the man away from him. Taking a deep breath, Sione faced Ms. Edwards. Standing in front of the bed, she stared at him, apprehension in her gaze.

“Ms. Edwards.” He walked toward her, but she shrank away. Still, he persisted. “Are you okay?”

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

San Pedro, Belize

Estrella Estates

Waiting for John to answer, Spencer didn’t know what to think. She could hardly believe he was standing in front of her. Why? How? She didn’t even know how to form the questions. She just needed the answers. Nothing made sense. There was a severed, bloody hand in the closet. Maxine was nowhere to be found. Tommy Fong had attacked her. Now John was here, asking her if she was okay, and Spencer didn’t know how to answer him. She didn’t know what she was, except confused. And worried. And suspicious. Why was John here? Had he known about her meeting with Maxine? Had he found out somehow? But, who could have told him? And why?

Relieved, and yet wary, Spencer stared at him. The resort owner looked like an island warrior, tall and huge, with his muscles evident despite the boring beige short-sleeved polo shirt he wore, stained with smears of blood. Towering over her, John seemed savage and brutal as he fought to catch his breath, the rise and fall of his massive chest slowing steadily. But the tenderness in his hazel gaze comforted her, made her feel protected.

She would have been beaten to death, or raped, if John hadn’t shown up. The resort owner had saved her life, again, and as glad as she was to see him, she couldn’t stop wondering why he was here. How had he known she was at Maxine Porter’s condo?

Silence stretched between them as John seemed to struggle to answer her. Was he wrestling with the truth or trying to come up with a lie? Spencer wasn’t sure which would be worse, his honesty or his deception. She had a feeling neither would be—

Something lurched behind John. Panicked, Spencer’s eyes darted and caught sight of Tommy Fong, wobbly on his feet, his arm outstretched, and the gun shaking in his hand.

San Pedro, Belize

Estrella Estates

Sione saw Spencer’s eyes shift left and then widen with fear. Something was behind him, he realized, and turned. Pointing the gun toward them, the Asian guy smiled, revealing bloodstained teeth.

“John, he’s got—”

The Asian guy squeezed the trigger.

Sione stepped in front of Spencer, trying to shield her, and glass shattered. Spencer screamed. Realizing he’d missed, the Asian man raised the pistol again. Sione turned to Spencer, grabbed her, slipped his arms around her, and dived onto the bed.