No Ordinary Billionaire (The Sinclairs) (R) (25 page)

Emily’s cell phone started to ring, startling all of them. The musical tone echoed through the room, and Emily turned frightened eyes to the killer. Sarah looked at John and observed, “It’s probably the police.”

“Gimme the phone,” John told Emily nervously.

Sarah watched as Emily dug into her front pocket, her hands shaking as she looked at the caller ID. “It’s Joe Landon, the chief of police.”

John ripped the phone from Emily’s hand and pushed the “On” button. “Make one move and these women are all dead,” John yelled into the phone, agitated.

Sarah didn’t know what Chief Landon was saying, but John wasn’t buying it. “Tell him you’re sending the other two women out,” Sarah suggested quietly.

John hesitated, appearing to consider her suggestion before saying into the phone, “Two women are coming out. Try anything and I kill the fucking genius doctor. Got it, asshole?”

Emily leaned against Sarah’s shoulder and whispered furiously, “We can’t leave you here, Sarah. He’ll kill you. We have to do something.”

“No,” Sarah hissed, watching John as he engaged in a pointless rant with Joe over the phone. “Do this for Grady. Do it for Randi. It will be easier for them to attempt a rescue if it’s just me,” Sarah whispered quietly but fiercely. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if anyone would be able to rescue her, but it
would
be easier if the police only had to deal with one victim instead of three.

Turning her head, Sarah noticed that Emily and Randi were both crying, silent tears streaming down both of their faces.

“I can’t,” Emily said, keeping her voice soft. “It’s like leaving you for slaughter.”

“No. You have to do this to help me,” Sarah replied in a hushed voice. “Please go and let the police handle the rest. It’s my best chance.” Really, Sarah didn’t think she was going to make it out of this room alive, but at least she’d know Emily and Randi were safe. “Let Dante know that I’ll keep him talking as long as possible. Tell him that John Thompson is the Windy City Carver, and that he’s killed in other cities after he attacked me and left Chicago. He’ll know the case.” The Windy City Carver case was probably one of the most famous murder cases in recent history, especially since there had never even been a suspect.

Emily nodded reluctantly. “I’ll tell him.”

“Move, bitches,” John screamed, frenzied. He hung up the phone and waved the gun toward Emily and Randi. “Move slowly toward the door and get your asses out. Make sure the door stays locked after you leave.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Sarah grasped Emily’s shirt and urged her up. Emily stumbled to her feet awkwardly, her eyes glued to Sarah as Randi got to her feet.

“Go,” Sarah mouthed silently at Emily, who was momentarily blocking John’s view of her.

John waved the gun at them. “Get the hell out.”

Sarah’s expression remained blank as she watched Emily and Randi slowly walk to the door, both of them glancing back at Sarah with terror in their eyes. She’d be damned if she’d break now. Emily and Randi were almost out of the room.

She watched her friends, silently urging them to move faster, eager to see them exit the room.

Finally, Randi opened the door slowly and slipped out with a final distressed look at Sarah. Emily followed, her expression a silent apology as she met Sarah’s eyes. Sarah looked away as Emily hesitated, wanting her friend out the door. Emily had nothing to be sorry about; it was Sarah who had brought this filthy murderer to their town.

A moment later, the door clicked shut, the ominous sound actually a comfort to Sarah.

They’re safe. They’re out of danger.

Her body relaxed as she accepted the inevitable for herself. She’d fight to the death now that Emily and Randi were safe, but even if she was fighting to stay alive for Dante, she wasn’t sure it would be enough. John Thompson was a madman, crazier than anyone had ever imagined.

Think, Sarah, think. What good is being a damn genius if you can’t save yourself now?

She turned back to John and started talking.

CHAPTER 16

The two women came out the door hesitantly, Emily spotting Grady almost immediately and throwing herself into his arms. Randi was caught up by a uniformed police officer and comforted as he spirited her away from the door.

Joe Landon stood next to Dante. He wiped his sweaty brow as he said, “Thank God. Two of them are safe. Hostage negotiators and the SWAT team are en route now. It’s going to take another fifteen minutes or so. There’s nobody local. I can act as the negotiator, but the bastard doesn’t seem to want anything other than for us to back off. He’s not making any demands.”

Emily pulled herself from Grady’s fierce embrace and grasped Dante’s arm, still panicked. “She doesn’t have fifteen minutes. He’s going to rape her and then kill her with a huge knife. He’s not who you think. There’s some Windy City Carver who raped and killed women in Chicago, and then he killed more women while he was on the run. He’s not an enraged father or husband like we thought. He’s a psychotic rapist and murderer. He’s angry because Sarah blew his cover when he tried to kill her after his son died. He isn’t just holding her hostage. He wants her to die.”

The Windy City Carver? Impossible.

Hell, there wasn’t a police officer in the country who didn’t know about the Carver. Still an unsolved mystery in Chicago, the bastard had been responsible for the rape and murder of over a dozen women in the past decade. “Are you sure?” Dante asked Emily urgently, not wanting to believe that Sarah was the prisoner of an insane sociopath like the Carver. But strangely, gut instinct was screaming at him that Emily was speaking the truth. There hadn’t been a Carver victim in Chicago for quite some time, and the intervals between killings were usually pretty much the same. Once he’d stopped killing for much longer than he usually did, many had assumed that he’d died or fled.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Emily sobbed. “When Sarah confronted him, he admitted it. Dante, she set herself up as bait, telling John Thompson he could rape and kill her easier if we were let go. She knows she’ll never get out of there alive. We have to do something. She said to tell you that she’d keep him talking as long as possible. But he’s not going to wait very long. He’s too nervous.”

“We have to wait for backup,” Joe said firmly.

Wait for backup. Wait for backup. Wait for backup.

In a perfect scenario, waiting for backup was protocol. But this wasn’t really a hostage situation, and Sarah had no time. Waiting for backup was exactly what Dante and Patrick had been doing when his best friend had been killed, and waiting for backup hadn’t worked out well for his partner. Dante had been trying to formulate a plan, but Joe had told him that they had to wait for SWAT to arrive. Granted, they had heavier armor, but it wasn’t going to do Sarah any good if she was already dead. Thompson was the goddamn Carver, and unstable as hell. If Emily said they were out of time, she meant it.

Fuck that! I’ll go it alone. Sarah’s not dying because we’re waiting for backup.

He shook off Emily’s hold and walked out the main entrance without looking back. There was no way he was waiting another goddamn minute. If Joe felt he needed to wait for backup, then Dante was on his own.

The Windy City Carver.

A cold chill flooded Dante’s body as he moved around to the side of the building. The Carver was one sick bastard and left his victims in nothing but pieces. Dante couldn’t stand the thought of anyone touching Sarah, much less her being in the same room as that sick, twisted bastard.

A cloud of red was starting to form over his vision, but he pushed it back. Right now he needed to be as cold and calculating as the killer inside the building with Sarah.

He and Joe had assumed that John had been lying in wait somewhere, but Dante had checked the room before he brought Sarah in. Granted, maybe somehow he could have missed some small hiding place, but his gut instinct was telling him something different, that there was a point of access they didn’t know about. He’d checked every damn inch of that area.

He drew his Glock as he approached the area outside where Sarah was being held, immediately noticing the high window with broken glass, a space that would be damn hard to get his big body through. That window had been the point of entry. It was high, and the window was small, but the asshole had somehow managed to break the window and gain entry to the tiny bathroom attached to the room where Sarah had been playing. Most likely, Sarah’s music had drowned out the sound of breaking glass, and after that it had just been a matter of waiting for his opportunity.

There was no window on the inside.

Dante remembered checking the bathroom, and the window hadn’t been visible from the interior. The entire small bathroom had been wallpapered. The building was old, and obviously someone had done the cheapest job possible to make the bathroom look better before Grady had taken over refurbishing the center. Grady hadn’t gotten to the music room yet.

Why bother working around the tiny window when it could just be covered with a board and some wallpaper?

“Fuck,” he whispered harshly. Dante shoved the Glock back into his waistband and reached up for the windowsill. Just as he was about to pull himself up, he was yanked back down midjump.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jared asked furiously, pulling Dante’s arms away from the window.

“Back the hell off. I don’t have time. I’m going in,” Dante growled at his brother.

“Backup is coming,” Jared reminded him heatedly.

“Too late. I need to take this guy down now.” Dante yanked his arms from Jared’s grip and turned to face his brother, ready to coldcock him if he needed to. “This bathroom is attached to the room where he’s holding Sarah. He came in through this hidden window in the bathroom. You can either help me or get the fuck out of here. We’re out of time.”

Jared gave him a stormy look, but answered, “You’re going to end up getting yourself killed.”

“I don’t give a shit. If something happens to Sarah, I might as well be dead. If she dies, I die with her.” He’d never be a functional human being again. They’d have to put him in a straitjacket and haul him away.

“Shit! Fine. What do you want me to do?” Jared answered, sounding frustrated. “I can follow you in.”

“No,” Dante answered harshly. “Go back inside. Find somebody with a key to the door and see if you can unlock it without making a lot of noise. I might need backup if I have to go hand-to-hand with this asshole. Listen at the door. You’ll know it’s time once you hear a scuffle or gunshots. Before you do anything else, get Sarah the hell away from him. Promise me.”

“Done. Be careful,” Jared responded hoarsely. “Don’t get dead.”

“I’m not planning on it,” Dante replied, hoisting himself onto the windowsill without looking back. Jared might be a pain in the ass, but Dante knew he could count on him when he really needed him.

As Dante started to force his large body through the small space, he could hear Sarah’s eerily calm voice and the replies from the murderer.

That’s it, sweetheart. Keep him talking. Smart woman.

When he heard John starting to talk about Sarah’s scars and how much he was looking forward to doing a better job at carving her to pieces, Dante almost lost it. The moment the asshole mentioned slicing off Sarah’s nipples, Dante stopped thinking like a cop and reacted like a man.

I’ll kill the fucking bastard.

By the time he dropped quietly to the floor of the bathroom, he was running on purely primal instincts, and he knew the Windy City Carver wasn’t leaving the room alive.

I can’t let him see that I’m afraid. I need to stall for more time.

Sarah was waiting for the right time, and it wasn’t now. He had the gun pointed directly at her head and John wasn’t close enough for her to get a shot at his groin. Since she didn’t have a weapon of any kind, her best bet was to maneuver him close enough, with the weapon pointed away from her vital organs, for her to take her chance at immobilizing him. If she could disable him for even a few moments, she could get out.