Task Force Bride (17 page)

That’s what was off. There’d been no cars parked in front of Hope’s shop when the van drove past. And he’d just spotted a light-colored SUV there.

Even the unflappable Spencer Montgomery revealed a spike of temper. “You set up your own daughter?”

“She wouldn’t help me, so I helped myself.”

Montgomery grabbed Hank Lockhart and handed him off to a pair of approaching uniforms. “Get this trash out of here.”

Pike’s truck was toast. The shop wasn’t that far. He opened the back door and grabbed Hans’s leash.

“Taylor!” Detective Montgomery caught the door and closed it after Hans jumped out.

“Pike?” Alex fell into step beside them as they jogged across the intersection. “Talk to me, bro.”

“Get everyone back to Fairy Tale Bridal. He’s going after Hope.”

Then there was only Pike and his partner and a long city block to run. “Go, boy!”

* * *

H
OPE
DIDN
’
T
WASTE
any time after Pike and Hans left. She pulled on underwear, jeans and a sweater, and grabbed her phone and keys before unbolting the door and running barefoot down the stairs.

Whatever was going on was something bad. And even though she had questions about last night with Pike, and even more questions about tomorrow, she knew that something big was breaking on the task force investigation. Pike needed to deal with the danger his brother had alerted him to, and he needed her to nod her head and do what he said.

She pulled open the door at the bottom of the stairs and immediately turned the dead bolt on the outside door of the vestibule, securing access to both the shop and her apartment. She peered out the door into the rose-tinted darkness of early morning and saw that Pike’s truck was gone. There’d be time to ask questions later, she hoped. Time enough for Pike to come back safely. Time to wrap up this hellish mission and end their fake engagement.

Hope held on to the door handle and stretched up on tiptoe, trying to see over the fence and hedge that lined the parking lot. Were those flashing lights bouncing off the tops of the buildings? Pike’s was one truck. Just how many emergency vehicles were out there? What was going on? Was someone hurt? Was Pike?

Obeying common sense as much as curiosity, she unlocked the inside door to the shop and went in to check the front door and windows there. Her bare toes made no sound on the cold tile and carpeting, and she left the lights off so no one would be alerted to movement inside the store.

She peeked through the mannequins in the window display and saw a black-and-white police car with flashing lights parked sideways across the street, down by the coffee shop. Had there been an accident?

Without stopping to ponder an answer, she continued to the front door between the displays and jiggled the handle. Locked. Good. She was safe.

Now she could spend a few seconds pressing her cheek to the glass to see farther down the street. Where was Pike’s truck? All she saw were police cars and flashing lights. She almost smiled with relief. Had they caught the Rose Red Rapist? Had the sting operation worked?

Hope breathed a sigh of relief and pulled her phone from her pocket. How needy and inappropriate would it be if she called Pike right now and asked him for answers? Asked him to come back to her? Asked him...

The scent of a powerful cologne, tainted with undertones of vinegar or disinfectant stung her nose.

Oh, God.
Her pulse thundered in her ears. She wasn’t alone in the shop.

Had someone snuck in before she’d gotten the outside door locked? Who else would have a key?

She slipped her thumb over the screen of her phone and pushed Pike’s number and the call button. Fear kicked into panic and her fingers trembled as she tried to slide her key into the lock to get out the door. But the reflection taking shape behind her in the window warned her it was already too late.

Screaming at the familiar white mask, Hope turned to defend herself. But his arm was already swinging. He hit her in the side of the head and she was unconscious before she hit the floor.

* * *

“H
OW
LONG
DO
you think it’s been?” Detective Montgomery asked.

Pike didn’t have time to piece together clues and figure this out intellectually, so his brother answered. “Fifteen minutes, twenty, tops, sir. Pike left the building at 5:10 a.m. I picked up Miss Sapphire at quarter after. It’s not five-thirty yet.”

“The street’s blocked to the south, so he had to go north. Traffic Patrol would have spotted a speeding car, so he can’t have gotten far. I’m calling in every favor I’ve got for this manhunt.” Montgomery pulled out his phone. “Nick’s already going door to door. Maggie Wheeler, Dr. Kate and her friend Sheriff Harrison are on their way. I’ll contact Dispatch and get every available uniform here ASAP.”

“Belay that phone call, sir.” Rank didn’t matter when it came to Hope. Pike was giving the orders now.

They didn’t need manpower. They didn’t need men.

Pike knelt beside Hope’s glasses and shattered phone and let Hans sniff the white nightgown he held in his gloved hand. “I need you to do this for me, boy. I need you to find her. Please.”

The German shepherd whined and tilted his head to one side. Pike could tell from his excited panting that he had the scent and was ready to work. But his partner wasn’t used to being asked. He was used to being led. Pike pushed to his feet and opened the shop’s front door.

“Hans!
Such!
”

* * *

H
OPE
CAME
TO
with a start. The pungent liquid splashing on her chest and neck acted like smelling salts, piercing the fog of her headache and waking her to the cool lights of the room above her.

Above?

Automatically, she reached up to adjust her glasses. But both hands came up, and she hissed at the sharp pinch at her wrists. They were duct-taped together.

Half-blind? Bound?

Fear sharpened her senses further and Hope squinted to bring something—anything—into focus. Colorless walls reflected a single light hanging overhead. From the angle of things, she must be lying on the floor. She couldn’t make out any windows, couldn’t tell if it was morning or night.

But her other senses worked just fine. The cold liquid hit her belly and she shrieked. Vinegar? She jerked away from the smelly dousing and rolled over a sheet of plastic that popped and crackled when she moved. Beneath the plastic, something padded protected her from the hardness of the brown floor. A mattress. The air was chilly and stale, with no moving air. And she was shivering because her sweater had been cut or ripped and pushed aside, leaving her in a bra and blue jeans for protection and warmth.

And then she saw the black shadow moving past her feet and remembered the reflection in the glass.

Hope startled, tried to scoot away. But a strong hand clamped over her ankle and pulled her back into place. She was going to die. She was going to be horribly violated, made to suffer and then she would die.

“Where am I? Who are you? Why are you doing this?” she asked in rapid succession. Oh, God, she was in terrible trouble. Where was Pike? Did he know how much she loved him? Would it matter? Did she have any chance of saving herself? “Do you have my glasses? I can’t see,” she admitted as the first hot tear ran across her cheek to her ear.

The man laughed.

Finally, he spoke. “I’ve been such a fool.” Five simple words and she felt light-headed again. Sick to her stomach. Heartbroken. She knew that voice. All this time...so many conversations. And she’d never had any idea of his dark, dangerous secret. “You never saw me at all that night, did you? With those eyes, in the shadows, you never really could. And to think I believed the lies you told.”

Hope blinked away the tears that burned her eyes. “Brian? Brian Elliott? You’re...”

“Yes.” Something silky soft and sweetly fragrant touched her nose and she jerked away from the sickening caress. A red rose. “I’m the devil the police can never catch. I’m the man terrorizing the women of this city. I’m teaching every greedy, selfish witch that she’s not everything she thinks she is. I’m the Rose Red Rapist.” He crawled over her, dropping the rose beside her as he came into view. He was wearing that glaring white surgeon’s mask over the bottom half of his face. But the eyes above the mask were dark and clear, and sadly familiar. “But you’re never going to tell anyone that.”

He reached down and unsnapped her jeans. When the zipper began to slide apart, she shook off the shock of never knowing what an evil man her mentor and friend had been—of never even suspecting how sadistic he could be. “Stop it!”

She bucked beneath him, clawed the air to stop his hands. But she was helpless. Trapped.

Brian picked up a bottle, although she couldn’t make out the contents. “Women are filthy creatures, you know. You can’t trust them.” He poured the liquid onto a cloth and she realized that was the vinegar mixture he’d thrown on her earlier. Hope sucked in her breath when he laid the cloth on her stomach and started to bathe her. “They take everything you have—your money, your trust, your heart—and they grind it into dust beneath their feet. They use you. They humiliate you.”

She arched her back, trying to escape the cloth sliding over her skin. “I never did.”

“I thought you were different, Hope. I made you into the success you are. I coaxed you out of your shell and taught you to trust your vision. I gave you a building to live and work in—”

“I bought that building.” She snatched at the cloth, but he pulled it beyond her reach. “You invested in my shop.”

“I never thought you would betray me. You were always so dutiful. So appreciative.”

“I worked hard to get where I am. I thought you were proud of me.”

“I was. And then...”

“What? What did I do, Brian? What did any of those women you hurt do to you? Bailey Austin? LaDonna Chambers?”

“You’re all like Mara.”

“Your ex-wife?” He freshened the washrag and slipped it beneath the elastic of her panties. “Why are you doing this?”

“You humiliated me. You played me for a fool.”

“Stop it, Brian.” She tried to sit up, but he shoved her back down. “You don’t want to do this.”

“I’ve never heard you talk this much before, Hope. I don’t like it.” He reached across her and came back with a box cutter that he trailed against her cheek.

Hope jerked her head away from the sharp blade. “The police will find you. You won’t get away with this.”

“I’ve gotten away with this for years. A mousy little slut like you isn’t going to change that.”

She heard the ripping sound of tape before she felt the vibration of a slamming door from somewhere beneath them. “Where are we?”

“Shut up.”

“Brian—”

“Shut up!” He slapped her across the mouth, stunning her long enough for him to press a piece of duct tape over her mouth. He jerked her jeans down her hips and Hope screamed helplessly behind the tape.

Do something.
Make a noise.
Help them find you.

If there was ever a time in her life she needed her voice to be heard, it was right now.

While Brian unhooked his belt, Hope reached up and peeled the tape from her lips. “Help me! Help—”

When his fist came down, she raised her hands to deflect the blow. Brian grabbed her wrists and pushed them over her head, tearing skin beneath the tape as she thrashed and screamed. He lay across her, reaching for something. She kicked. She twisted. She heard the clatter of heavy objects hitting metal and wood. He grunted. She jerked. Brian sat up, his weight straddling her body and crushing the breath from her lungs. He raised his hand and she saw the hammer he’d pulled from the toolbox beside her.

Hope screamed.

“KCPD!” She heard a loud bang and the splintering of solid wood. Brian turned. “Hans!
Fass!
”

A blur of black and tan leaped at billionaire Brian Elliott and knocked him to the floor.

Hope tumbled off the mattress as Brian cursed and screamed. She’d heard ferocious snarls like that once before in her life. Even dazed and frightened, without her glasses, she knew exactly what was happening. There was the initial blow that knocked the wind and sense from a body. The bruising punctures. The tearing skin.

“Hope? Hope!” Pike pulled Hope to her feet and tucked her behind the broad wall of his back. “How bad are you hurt?”

“I’m okay,” she whispered. She pulled up her jeans and fastened them as best she could with her clothes wet and her hands still bound. She curled her fingers into Pike’s belt and moved with him as he pointed his gun at Brian Elliott. “I’m okay,” she repeated with more strength.

“Hans!
Platz!
” In a heartbeat, the growling stopped and the big dog sat back on his haunches and lay down.

“Damn.” Brian writhed on the floor, clutching his injured arm to his stomach. “Filthy beast! You’ve killed me.”

“Shut up, Elliott, or I’ll let him do it.”

“I need to wash. I need to clean it off.”

Pike inched closer with the gun and pressed it against Brian’s skull. “Don’t move.”

Other than breathing hard and moaning in pain, Brian didn’t.

“Come here, baby.” Pike shifted his gun to one hand and reached behind him to hug Hope to his side. “How many doors do I have to break down to get to you?” He pressed a kiss to the crown of her hair and then turned his attention to the man bleeding on the plastic-covered mattress. “Brian Elliott, you are under arrest for kidnapping and assault on Hope Lockhart. Other charges will be filed against you. You have the right to remain silent.” More footsteps stampeded up the stairs and blurry figures she couldn’t recognize charged into the room. “You have the right to an attorney. If you can’t—”

“We’ve got it, Taylor.” Hope recognized Spencer Montgomery’s voice. “Nick, cuff this bastard.” The detective’s red hair came into focus as Pike backed away from the man on the floor. “Are you okay, Miss Lockhart?” He looked over his shoulder and shouted, “Let’s get a bus here and have this woman looked at.”