Red Handed (25 page)

Rachel straightened in her chair and flashed her a million-dollar smile. “I'm sure they're aware of that already.”

“Sorry.” Danielle shrugged. “I'm from Arizona, and I haven't watched any television since I've arrived in Michigan.”

“And I don't watch the news,” Gracie said, chiming in with her usual peppy manner. “It's too depressing. Now reality TV, that's another story.”

“It's so nice to meet you both,” Lisa said, the area around her eyes crinkling from her amusement. “Arizona, huh? What part?”

Danielle tried to concentrate on the conversation, but she became distracted every time someone new walked through the door. “Scottsdale. Have you been?”

Sipping her wine, Lisa shifted in her seat. “No. I've heard it's beautiful.”

“It is, but I've come to appreciate Michigan too. Cole's neighborhood—”

“Cole DeMarco, Cole?” Rachel asked. “The owner of Benediction?”

“Rachel, heel,” Kate said.

Danielle could've kicked herself for slipping up and giving Rachel a hint about how she knew Kate. Rachel most likely assumed it anyway, but Danielle felt as though she'd broken a rule.

Rachel crumbled up a cocktail napkin and threw it at Kate. “Damn it. If you would get me a guest pass for one night, I wouldn't have to hound your friends here.”

Kate sighed dramatically. “Fine.”

Rachel's jaw dropped. “Excuse me? Did you agree?”

“I did,” Kate said. “Next month, Benediction is having an open house for prospective members. No nudity or sex allowed, but you'll be able to tour the facility and ask questions. If you sign a confidentiality agreement, Cole will grant you an interview. But if you out anyone, I guarantee—”

“No, no. Of course I won't,” Rachel said, clapping her hands. “Oh, thank you. Thank you. I could kiss you.”

Lisa lifted her cell off the table and waved it around. “If you do, let me get my camera ready. I'm sure Jaxon would love to see that.”

“What about you?” Rachel asked Lisa. “Are you coming with us to the open house?”

Lisa frowned, her gaze dropping to her lap. “No. That's not my thing. You know that.”

“Actually, I have no idea what your thing is,” Rachel said. “You never date. Are you secretly married or something?”

Lisa's eyes widened. “Why would you say that?”

Rachel rolled her eyes as if it was obvious. “Because married people are notorious for not having sex. You fit the criteria perfectly.”

Lisa sighed and shook her head. “I'll think about coming with you. Okay?”

“I'll be happy to show you the ropes,” Gracie said in her usual perky manner. “Speaking of ropes, there's this guy who does some awesome bondage scenes.”

Rachel pursed her lips. “Let me guess? Logan, right?”

“Her and Logan rub each other the wrong way,” Kate said, a ghost of amusement on her lips.

Gracie's eyebrows arched. “Probably because they haven't rubbed each other the right way. One night at Benediction could change that.”

Clearly annoyed and ready to change the subject, Rachel ignored the previous comments and turned her full attention to Danielle. “Are you planning on staying in Michigan?”

Her heart jumped a beat. If Cole asked her, would she stay? “I'm not sure. It depends . . . ”

Rachel sipped from her drink. “Let me guess. It depends on a man, right?”

Danielle bit her lip and tried to decide how much to say. All the women watched her with interest, especially Gracie. “I'm not sure if it's going to work out. There are issues I'm not sure we'll ever see eye to eye on.”

“Hey, if Kate and Jaxon could make it, anyone can,” Rachel said.

Kate glared at Rachel. “Thanks for the glowing endorsement.”

From across the room, Adrian rubbed his chin, giving Danielle the sign that it was time to move. She glanced at Gracie and nodded. “I'm going to the ladies' room. If you'll excuse me.”

“Oh, I'll go with you,” Rachel said, grabbing her purse.

“No!” Gracie said. “I mean, if you really want to hear about Benediction, you don't need to interview Cole. I've been his slave for years. I'll answer your questions.”

Her stomach churning with nerves, Danielle hurried to the bathroom and washed her hands, wondering if Rinaldi would take the bait. After a couple minutes, she walked out of the ladies' room and smacked into Master Michael in the hallway, holding a rag in one hand and in the other, a similar gadget to the one Adrian had used to detect bugs.

“I'm sorry,” Michael said, “but he's got my sister. I don't have a choice.”

In a flash, he yanked her necklace until it broke and ripped off the wire. Panicked, she tried to fight him off, kicking and punching him, knowing without the GPS in her locket, the FBI might not be able to find her once he took her from the restaurant. He slapped her face, and before she could scream, he covered her mouth and nose with a sweet-smelling cloth.

Her body crumbled, and as the darkness took her, her last thoughts were of Cole.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

“D
ANIELLE?
W
AKE UP
.”

Her head pounded. She tried to open her eyes, but it felt as though someone had sprinkled sand in them and glued her eyelids together. All the moisture had dried from her mouth, leaving behind a bitter, acidic flavor, and she could've sworn her tongue had swollen to twice its size.

She turned her head toward the voice, and nausea slammed into her, bile burning her throat. Everything seesawed, and she tried to hold onto something, but she couldn't move. Swallowing, she cracked her lids to a blurred view.

As she rapidly blinked, her vision cleared. A dim lamp swung from the ceiling, and the yellowish paint was peeling from the walls. They were in a wooden shack or a cabin of some sort. The coppery scent of blood was overpowering in the small space. Danielle lowered her head and realized the reason she couldn't move was because she was tied to a chair with rope.

Her heart jumped at the sight of her stepmother sitting next to her. She was similarly bound with bruises and scratches on her cheeks. A blood-stained bandage covered the part of her hand where her ring finger had been.

She was alive.

“Tasha.” Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, thank God. I thought I'd never see you again.”

“Danielle, I'm so glad you could make it.” Smiling as if greeting her for dinner, Anthony Rinaldi stepped out of another room. “I must apologize for the accommodations. It's not up to par with what you deserve, but it's been very convenient for my purpose.”

His calm demeanor scared her more than the fact that she was tied to a chair. “What purpose? Why are we here? What did we ever do to you?”

He dragged a chair over to her, its metal legs scratching the hardwood floor along the way, the grating noise like nails on a chalkboard. He placed it backward in front of her and casually straddled it. “Your father got me into a mess with some dangerous Russians. He owed them quite a bit of money, but rather than pay it back, he turned himself in to the Feds and hid that money overseas, leaving me on the hook with the Russians. He thought we wouldn't find it, and I admit, I almost would've believed the money had all been lost in the stock market if it weren't for the information I got stating otherwise.”

“What information?” The rope around her wrists chafed her skin as she wiggled her hands to test the strength of the restraints. Without the GPS, there was a good chance the FBI wouldn't be coming to save her, which meant she was on her own.

Tasha whimpered, tears rolling down her cheeks. With glazed eyes, she silently pleaded for Danielle to stop talking, obviously trying to protect her.

“Sorry, dollface,” Rinaldi said, glancing at Tasha. “Not my story to tell.”

“You killed my father,” she said, keeping him talking to distract him from her attempts at loosening the ropes.

“I did no such thing.” He sounded offended. “James Walker was a coward. Rather than face prison, he took his own life and left you to fend for yourself.” His hand reached out toward her face. She flinched, prepared to feel its sting. Instead, when he tenderly stroked her cheek, she tamped down the strong urge to bite him. “A beautiful girl like you should be treasured.”

The fear whipping through her had nothing on the anger and disgust she harbored for this man. “You got your money. So why didn't you release Tasha? Why am I here?”

He hurdled to his feet, kicking away the chair with a crash. “And deprive myself of your company? No, Danielle.” Crouching in front of her, he slid his hands up her thighs. “Since the night in your bedroom, I've been waiting for you. You're aware I'm a sadist, but lately, I haven't found the same pleasure in inflicting pain while at Benediction. Cole's constant monitoring of my activities limits how far I can go and hasn't afforded me the ability to test my newest creations.” His eyes were wild, and his pupils shrunk into pinpricks as his fingers pressed into the flesh between her legs. “Did you know you can run electricity through a knife? Double the pain, double the pleasure. By the time I'm done with you, Danielle, you'll beg me to kill you.” He licked his lips. “Just like the others.”

“No, please,” Tasha cried. “Let Danielle go and keep me instead.”

Rinaldi jumped up and leaned over Tasha, wrapping his hands around her throat and squeezing. “You misunderstand. I have no intention of letting either of you go. But I've had my fun with you, and I'm ready for a newer model. It's been a pleasure.” He laughed. “Well, at least for me. When you see your dead husband in hell, don't forget to tell him I said hello.”

He relinquished his grip, leaving a red-faced Tasha gasping for air. “Michael,” he shouted.

Skin slick with sweat, Michael ran his hand through his hair as he stepped into the room.

She narrowed her gaze on him, realizing now that although Rinaldi had been the one who'd woken her up from her bed in Arizona, Michael was the one who had threatened her at Benediction. “You broke into my room at Benediction. How did you get in?”

He wiggled his fingers. “Made a copy of your key. Just needed somewhere to hide on your floor. Luckily, Cassandra was more than willing to lend a helping hand with that. Easy in. Easy out. Girl was more trouble than she's worth though.” His gaze darted everywhere but on her, as if he was afraid to look her in the eyes.

“Stop talking,” Rinaldi said to Michael. “Take Tasha outside, kill her, and throw her in the grave I dug this morning. We wouldn't want anyone to stumble upon her while Danielle and I are enjoying our time together.” He winked at Danielle. “We need some privacy, right babe?”

Her throat thickened with terror. “You're crazy.”

He tsked and shook his head. “Actually, I'm perfectly sane. That's why I never get caught. That and the powerful people I have in my back pocket.” He pounded his chest. “I'm invincible. I can set this cabin on fire and watch you burn without answering to anyone. Some people think taking a life is playing God, but they're wrong. I don't play God.” He widened his arms. “I am God.”

“Crazy,” she repeated, unable to stop herself.

Rinaldi rushed toward her, his face turning purple with rage, and with a crack, her head knocked back into the chair, fire exploding across her cheek from the punch. “That's just a taste of what I'm about to do to you,” he shouted. He craned his neck around to Michael. “What are you waiting for? Get the old bitch outside and shoot her in the head.”

Tasha cried, swinging her head back and forth. “No. No. No.”

The front door crashed open, and a storm of heavy footsteps pounded into the room, bright lights blinding her. “FBI! Drop your weapons, and hands up where I can see them.” Through her star-filled vision, she made out several shapes dressed in navy and white.

Her face throbbed as she frantically glanced around searching for Cole. Was he here?

As her eyes adjusted to the lights, she witnessed Agent Miller and another agent cuffing Rinaldi's and Michael's hands behind their backs. “Anthony Rinaldi and Michael Malone, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Natasha Walker and Danielle Walker. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense.”

“Agent Ryan, it's good to see you again,” said Rinaldi calmly. “How's your daughter? Celia, right? I bet she's got to be around sixteen now. As I remember, a beautiful girl like her mother.”

The agent swung him around and pushed him against the wall. “Is that a threat?”

“Just making conversation. I don't need to make threats,” Rinaldi said, seemingly unperturbed by his arrest.

“Yeah. Apparently he's a god.” Danielle inhaled, relieved the FBI had shown when they had. “Michael busted the tracker and the wire. How did you find me here?”

Agent Miller grinned. “You're buddy Logan sewed a tracker and transmitter into your sweater. It activated as soon as the other GPS was destroyed. He called us with your coordinates and patched the feed from it into our system. You did a great job, Danielle. We got enough to help put them both away for a long time, and I have a feeling we'll find the bodies of those missing girls on this property.”

“Oh, Miller.” Rinaldi sighed dramatically. “You know there's no amount of evidence that could ever keep me behind bars. DeMarco.” At the name, Danielle followed Rinaldi's line of sight, and her heart danced from the vision of Cole striding toward her. “Didn't think you'd let her out of your sight for a minute, but to wire her and allow her to get kidnapped? You and your little subbie have some major balls. Enjoy your time together, and I'll see you both when they drop the charges and I not only walk out of jail, but get a big, fat apology from Agents Ryan and Miller.”