Fatal Wild Child (20 page)

Smart
, Seth thought. "Triad assassin," he confirmed. "One of their best."

Cameron sighed. "Ah, Ronny..." He tossed his glasses on the desk.

"I need you to come with us," Seth said. "We have to bring Ronny to the chalet."

Cameron got to his feet. "You know for sure it's Ronny?"

"Not one hundred percent," Seth confessed freely, picking up Cameron's coat off the hook behind the door and handing it to him. "But that's why I'm bringing him to the chalet, and not Tyler and why Sam's coming with me. We're out of time. I was told that Triad forces are in the area and the Scorpion himself is probably in the lodge area. My people are on their way, but they couldn't tell me how long they'd take to get here, which means I have to operate on the assumption that we're on our own for now."

Cameron shoved his arms into the coat and his feet into the boots next to the door. "You're hoping to provoke him into revealing something?"

"I have enough information now that he may feel he has nothing left to lose." Seth shrugged. "And this time, I won't be caught flat-footed."

Cameron glanced at him sideways. "You think, hmmm?"

Seth hurried the man out of the chalet. "You still can't talk, Cameron?"

"I don't know yet," Cameron said. "Honestly, Seth, Ronny doesn't seem like the sort of man to have the backbone to try and kill my daughter. I know that's a terrible thing to say of any man, but there you have it."

Seth considered the assessment with military coldness and agreed. "There's something missing from the picture yet," he said.

They drew closer to the cabin Destiny and Ronny used and could hear thudding sounds from twenty meters away. Not rhythmic, but from inside the cabin, they must be loud. No one said anything, but all three of them broke into a run.

Seth was the first to reach the cabin, but the door was electronically sealed against him. Cameron pushed his own keycard into the slot. His was a master key and the door unlocked with a solid '
thunk
'. Seth shouldered his way inside, his gun already out. He quartered the big sitting room with his gaze, taking it in.

Destiny, at the bar, drinking.

Ronny, an open briefcase on the desk, tossing papers into it from across the room. They were arguing. Around the desk and the bar and on the floor about both, were paperback and hardcover books, lying open and scattered at all angles and positions, with pages up, ripped, fanned open. The library case was behind Ronny. He had been throwing them at Destiny, then.

As soon as Seth entered the room, Ronny took off running, heading for the passage that gave access to the bedrooms.

Seth vaulted the sofa, chasing him.

Destiny, standing forgotten behind the bar, lifted her crutch as Ronny streaked past. His ankles tangled around the aluminum pole and he went down with a yell, his face scraping along the hessian floor tiles.

"I'm so sorry, darling, how clumsy of me," Destiny drawled and drank the rest of her gin.

Seth landed on Ronny's back, driving the wind out of him.

Destiny smiled.

Seth threw Ronny on the sofa and Sam locked him in a sleeper hold, half an inch shy of knocking him out altogether. She rested her Mauser at his temple and that alone was enough to keep Ronny sweating nicely.

Cameron came back from the bedrooms. "Destiny's resting. I gave her a sleeping tablet. She'll be out for a while."

Seth nodded. It was probably better that way. He looked down at Ronny. "Why is the Scorpion here, Ronny?" he demanded.

Ronny's eyes got bigger.

"You think I'm stupid. Of course I know," Seth told him. "Why do you think I'm here?"

Ronny swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing in his extended neck. His gaze swiveled to Cameron.

"Yes, I know too, Ronny." Cameron's expression was one of bitter disgust.

"You don't know it all," Ronny whispered. "You can't."

Seth slapped Ronny across the face. "Focus Ronny! Why is the Scorpion here?"

Ronny blinked, his eye watering, as his gaze snapped back to Seth.

"Tell us why you bought him here," Seth demanded.

Ronny laughed. It was a low sound, but developed into an insane-sounding full-throated roar. This time, Cameron stepped forward and slapped him. He didn't hold back. Ronny stopped laughing, but tears were in his eyes as he looked at them.

"You have no idea at all," he said, looking at them with pity in his eyes. "None. I didn't bring anyone. It's the Triads. You don't tell the Triads what to do. They told
me
what to do. Don't you get it?"

Seth let out his breath. "They've got a hold on you, too."

Ronny laughed again. A bitter sound. "It's going around man."

"Money," Cameron concluded. "How much are you into them for, Ronny?"

Ronny closed his eyes. "The business was going to fold," he said. "Everyone else in the family is a millionaire at least. And I couldn't run a simple business."

"How much?" Cameron demanded.

"Eighteen million," Ronny said.

Seth felt sick.

"Whose idea was it to put the bite on me?" Cameron demanded.

Ronny swallowed. "They insisted. All of it. The whole plan. It was all their idea, to get their money back, or payback for the debts. Even...even Gabrielle."

"I believe you," Cameron said, his tone one of infinite bitterness.

"I'm sorry about that," Ronny said. "She was such a nice person."

Seth felt a chill settle in the bottom of his heart. "What does that mean?" he demanded.

Ronny opened his eyes. "You said you knew. Everything." Suddenly the panic was back in his eyes.

"Sam, hold him," Seth said quickly, seeing the flight instinct in Ronny's face. He brought his gun to line up on Ronny's chest. "What do you mean about Gabrielle, Ronny? Why are you talking about her in the past tense?"

"The deadline, man! The deadline! It's after ten a.m. and Cameron didn't pay the five million!" Ronny was squirming on the sofa despite Sam's lock on his throat and the pistol at his temple.

Cameron crossed his arms. "I don't pay blackmailers and Gabrielle was safe. I made sure of it this morning." He glanced at Seth.

Seth took a breath. It seared on the way down to his lungs. He replayed again the last seconds of his breakfast conversation with Cameron.

"Tell me you'll protect her."

"With my life."

"Then it's done. I can finish it now."

"Sweet Jesus," Seth breathed. "That's why the Scorpion is here. He's here for Gabrielle if you don't pay up." He looked at the clock over the bar. Ten twenty-five.

He turned and ran.

* * * * *

Gabrielle stirred under the thick eiderdown quilt when she heard the doorbell chime. Tyler must have ordered food. She wasn't hungry, but she wasn't sleepy, either. Nothing was going to make this time go any faster, so she might as well get up and go see who was at the door and maybe try and eat. It would at least make a few more minutes pass by.

She moved out into the main room as Tyler opened the door. He saw her and put out his hand. "Don't step into sight of the door," he told her. He looked out through the screen door, but didn't open it. "Hi."

"Morning tea, sir." It was a female voice, with oriental tones.

Tyler looked at Gabrielle. "Did you order coffee and..." He tilted his head to look at the tray through the screen door. "Muffins and doughnuts?"

She shook her head.

Tyler's hand eased to his hip. "Must be a mistake, miss," he called through the door. "We didn't order it."

"Compliments of chef," she called. "He is friend of Mr. O'Connor."

Tyler grinned. "Well, that makes sense," he said to Gabrielle. "Seth knows everyone." He reached for the latch on the door.

Alarmed poured through Gabrielle. "No, wait, Tyler! How did she know Seth was staying here in my cabin?"

He glanced at her at the same moment the quiet "
whomp
" sounded and glass tinkled. Tyler grabbed at his shoulder as he staggered back.

He's been shot. Tyler's been shot,
Gabrielle thought, stunned.

A second shot sounded. Tyler fell, sprawling, up against the closet and lay very still.

Get down. She'll look for you in the windows.

Panic was pushing at her chest and her mind again, but Gabrielle knew she had to keep it contained so that she could continue to think straight. If she let herself panic now, it was going to be all over.

She moved as quietly as she could closer to the sofa that sat beneath the windows, so that when the woman looked in, she wouldn't see her crouched on the floor. She looked despairing at Tyler.

He was watching her.

Her breath left her in an unsteady rush. Tyler was alive.

She clapped her hand over her mouth to stop herself from making any noise. Blood was trickling from Tyler's mouth, but he was alive for now. His hand was moving slowly to his hip. He was reaching for his gun.

Tyler had a gun.

The knowledge filtered slowly through Gabrielle's scared and sluggish mind.

She knew how to use guns.

The board under the second window creaked as the woman—the Scorpion—stepped on it. She was at the far end of the verandah.

Gabrielle considered the matter, trying to get her mind to crank up and move faster. To clear itself. She just couldn't seem to get it to work very fast.

She realized she was breathing heavily. Loudly. She slapped a hand over her mouth and forced herself to slow down her breathing. Slow deep breathes in and out.

In and out.

And she tried to think.

All she seemed to be able to focus on was the creak of the verandah outside. Each shift of the boards was terrifying. She was straining to hear for the next one and the next. The silence between them lengthened until it seemed like minutes passed between each.

Think, Gabrielle!
she yelled at herself. Then she thought of Seth's eyes, saw him looking at her as he might have if his face were only a few inches from hers. Heard his voice in her mind.
Think, Ellie. You have a few seconds only. Forget everything and think.

Her mind calmed.

She could lunge for Tyler's gun, grab it and roll toward the front door. That way, she would be blocked from the woman's immediate line of fire by the front entrance wall.

Tyler was looking at her. He shook his head a little. A small movement from one side to the other. He knew what she was thinking.

She stuck her tongue out at him. It was the only expression she knew that was silent and said what she meant apart from using her finger, which had the wrong emphasis. She looked up at the windows over her head. There were no shadows to tell her where the woman was on the verandah, for the sun was almost overhead at this time of day. Besides, it was a cloudy day.

Her heart was thundering in her ears. Did she dare do this? It wasn't the movies. Stage fright was one thing, but if she flubbed her lines this time around she'd end up dead.

She ran through the routine in her head. She'd done action sequences like this in the past. The gun would be tight in the holster because Tyler was lying on it, so she'd have to tug hard. She could lift his shoulder with her left hand as she leaned in to get it, too.

Tyler used a Glock like Seth—hero-worship? Finally, she'd get her hands on a forty-five. It would be heavier in her hand, so she had to make sure to keep her wrist very strong and really squeeze on the trigger...all Barty Evan's instructions came flooding back to her as she thought it through.

As soon as she moved, the Scorpion was going to hear her footsteps on the floorboards, so she couldn't hesitate once she had started. Across the floor, grab the gun, roll, face the front door, and wait for the woman to expose herself in the doorway, which she would have to do in order to shoot at Gabrielle.

Gabrielle hunched up in a ball, getting her feet under her, ready to explode into action. Her heart was thundering now, hurting her chest.

"Just don't flub your lines, Ellie," she whispered.

She powered into action, driving herself across the living room floor. She heard the woman immediately sprint across the verandah, alerted by the sound of Gabrielle's feet pounding on the floor.

Fast, she was so fast!
Gabrielle thought, alarmed.

She slid into Tyler, her knee ramming into his shoulder, pushing it up. That helped more to lift him than her left hand on his shoulder. She thrust under his back for the butt of the gun and closed her hand over the familiar square grip. She pulled. The gun snagged. She pulled again with a grunt and it came free.

She was already rolling sideways, letting her left shoulder take the weight, keeping her eyes on the gun, sliding the safety off as she rolled along the entry passageway. She tucked her knees to her chest as she rolled so that her feet would be the first to touch the ground as she came over.