Stealth Moves (30 page)

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Authors: Sanna Hines

Tags: #FICTION / Thrillers

BOOK: Stealth Moves
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I don’t believe you. I’ll disappear. I…I’m afraid.

Stealth wished he could touch his twin, put his arm around him, reassure him of the certainty he felt inside. He had touched Brandon’s doll-like, cold face and his blackened fingernails in the casket. After that, he’d never touched anyone by choice.

Pulling on his gloves, Stealth said, “Nothing’s gone the way we expected, but it’s better this way. Freedom, Brandon! All the freedom you want—
and
the motorcycle.” Brandon’s emotions flickered like a candle flame, fear wafting toward hope. Stealth pressed ahead. “Want anything from upstairs? Forget about clothes and ordinary stuff. We’ll buy new with Kyle’s ransom.”

Thought you were leaving the money for him.

“Can’t. The cop will take it. We’ll find some way to get it back to Kyle when we sell the weapon.”

The boy will be angry.

“He needs to go home and grow up. Maybe, in time….” Stealth felt a stab of regret.

It’d never work. He’s a slob.

Stealth nodded. “Ready?”

I should check on the Momster.

“No time. She’ll call Karina if she needs something.” Wrong thing to say. Stealth felt Brandon’s resistance. “What?”

The Momster will miss me.

True. She would miss Brandon. “All right. Quick visit, but don’t say goodbye. She can’t know we’re leaving.”

Stealth shut his eyes, relaxed his shoulders, and let Brandon take over.

Wake up! Brandon shouted.

Stealth came round in the hallway outside their bedroom.

Brandon’s voice was wild with excitement. She’s here. Olivia’s here. I saw her on the Momster’s security tape. She tried to break in, but the cop caught her. He told the Momster he would take her upstairs, and then, they were supposed to go to the police station.

“No one’s left the house unless… Did the security alarm go off while I was away?”

No! Brandon clapped his hands. Don’t you see? She’s miserable at home like we were—watched all the time, forced to stay in, alone. She ran away and came to us. There’s room in the van. We can take her along, and she can be free, too.

“Absolutely not. We’re done collecting people. They’re too much trouble, and the project’s finished. We only need each other.”

A hostage? Brandon posed. We could say she’s a hostage. That would help us, wouldn’t it?

Stealth leaned against the wall, contemplating this new angle. “It might.” He shook his head. “No. The cop said to test the weapon and get out of here.”

So that’s what we’ll do, but not the way he thinks.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Day 14—Friday Night

Holly marched into the other fifth-floor room with Dan’s Taser aimed at her back. He stayed too far behind for a one-move takedown; two moves, and he’d have time to fire. She’d be unconscious, defenseless. Dan could simply throw her out the room’s rear window and make up some story about her falling. Liv wouldn’t be far behind.

“Over there,” Dan said when Holly stopped in the middle of the storage room, unsure of where to go among the clutter of old furniture, toys, steamer trunks. “Open the closet door.”

There was a wooden wall in this room as there had been in the other. It cut across a medallion on the elaborate parquet floor. Holly realized the two rooms had once been one. The wooden wall had a door with a bolt latch. She wondered why anyone would lock a closet, but that fleeting thought disappeared when Dan ordered her again to get moving and she reached for the door handle.

“Eww!” Holly’s hand flew to her nose. The reek of unflushed toilet assaulted her. She turned on Dan. “I’m
not
going in there.”

Dan waved a hand in front of his face. “Kid had a camp toilet for when the aide was here. Not too good about emptying it, I guess. Get over it,” Dan commanded. “Inside.”

Holly glared. Holding her nose, she entered the closet and heard the bolt slide behind her.

The space was narrow, just wide enough for two clothing bars and an aisle between them. Moonlight from a dormer window in the ceiling revealed an empty light socket over the aisle. Clothes hung in bags on the bars. The horrible camp toilet was to her right.

A sudden burst of brightness from her left made Holly blink. Liv stood haloed by her costume’s headpiece. “I have never been so glad to see anyone!” she cried, rushing forward to seize Holly in a bear-hug.

“How did you get here?” Holly demanded, holding her away. “You’re supposed to be safe at home.”

“I thought I could climb up and rescue Ari, but—”

Holly gasped. “You
climbed
this house? Weren’t you afraid?”

“Not until that asshat cop caught me. He said we could look for Ari and Kyle, but he locked me in here instead.” Liv growled deep in her throat. “And you liked him!”

“Blonde moment,” Holly admitted. “We’ve got to get you out of here. You’re in danger.”

“I know. I heard what they said.” Liv stepped nearer the toilet and shoved hanging bags aside to run her fingers along the opposite wall. “There’s another door here. It’s sealed, but you can hear around the edges.”

“Can we get it open?” Holly slipped in front of Liv to test the old pass-through doorway. The caulking was tight. When she shoved with her shoulder, her ear came close enough to hear Dan and Mike in the front room calmly discussing who would get Mike’s father’s estate if Liv didn’t inherit. “My mother first,” Mike said, “then my sister and me equally.”

“A lot of money?” Dan asked.

“Oh, yes. A lot.”

Holly’s stomach turned. She moved toward the closet’s window. At least four feet above her head, it was too high to reach by jumping. Set deep in a recess, the window framing created an overhang. The nearest clothing bar couldn’t be used to gain height; it was in the wrong place, underneath the slanted wall. “There
must
be a way out of this gagworthy closet,” Holly insisted.

“How tall are you?” Liv asked.

“Five ten,” Holly lied.

Liv frowned. “How tall are you
really
?”

“Five eleven and three-quarters,” Holly admitted. “So?”

“I’m five five. If I stand on your shoulders, I can reach the window. I’ll open it, hook my belt to something— It’s climber’s rope. Jessica said so.—and you can follow.”

“You’ll be fifty, sixty feet up. You won’t get weirded out?”

“Heights don’t bother me. It’s pretty cool being above everything.” Liv unclasped her belt and began working the line free from three-hole metal links separating the coils around her hips.

“You’ll have to go rock climbing with your uncle.” Holly instantly regretted her words. Mike had turned on them; he was bad as Dan. “I’m sorry you had to hear what he said. I really like—liked—Mike.”

Liv lifted her head. “He’s just playing that cop. Weren’t you listening? He said everything the dickhead wanted to hear.” She handed the metal links to Holly. “Hang onto these. You have pockets.” Liv rewrapped the length of rope around one shoulder. “I’m ready, but how do I get to your shoulders?”

“I’ll brace my hands against the wall. Grab my collar and put your feet on my thighs.” Holly unbuttoned her jean jacket to avoid being choked. “Stay off the back of my knees and spine. Once you have your feet on my hips, I’ll stand straight and you step up to my shoulders. Lean into the window enclosure and pull yourself outside. Hurry! We don’t know how much time we have.”

It wasn’t fun being a human ladder, but Holly appreciated the way Liv climbed with steady precision, not hesitating or wiggling her feet to mash nerves underfoot. The only time Liv paused was when she stepped up to Holly’s shoulders. “There’s purple glass in the window,” she said. “I’ve heard about Beacon Hill lavender windows, but—”

“Shut up, Liv.” With the girl’s full weight resting on a few inches of her muscle, Holly husked, “Move it.”

Liv reached into the window niche. “The catch is stuck. Wait.”

Holly rolled her eyes. Like there was anything else she could do.

“Okay, the handle’s moving. I can crawl out.”

Cool air rushed down. Holly felt the pressure on her lift as Liv wriggled into the window recess toward the open casement. Then Liv moaned, “There’s nowhere to tie the rope so you can climb out. The stupid frame is flat and—”

“Never mind. Just go!” Holly urged. “Free Ariel and get away. If they make it past me, they might decide to use her for target practice.”

“No, Holly! I can’t leave you here. They’ll hurt you.”

“Don’t argue. I’m your bodyguard—and I’m no good with heights,” Holly confessed. “I’d just freeze up out there. Rather make my move here.”

“Are you sure?” Liv sounded scared.

“Get help. Go to Chase’s house. Break a window if you can’t get their attention any other way. And Liv, please,
please
be careful.”

“Holly—”

“I’ll see you soon. It’ll be all right.” She heard footsteps on the dormer and then nothing. The roof was thick enough to mute Liv’s movements. Good. Dan and Mike wouldn’t know she escaped.

Alone in the dark closet, Holly took stock of her situation. The men had weapons: she needed some.

There are always weapons
. Her father’s favorite phrase from
Star Trek
surfaced in Holly’s mind. She remembered him gently tapping her temple, telling her, “Honey, if you’re ever in a tight situation, your best weapon is between your ears.”

Think!
If she could block Dan’s Taser, she could get to him. Tasers only had one shot without a reset. He wouldn’t use his gun; Dan wanted a cover-up. Shooting a civilian would trigger the scrutiny he wanted to avoid.

What did she have to work with? Old clothes, something thick enough to keep the Taser barbs from biting into her skin. But there were bags and bags of clothes—where to start?

Holly got on her knees, arms sweeping low for long ones. There were just a few. She stood to unzip the first and found formal dresses. No good. The second held a brown fur coat. Holly grinned as she pulled it from the bag. Floor-length for most women, the coat would be short on her, but fashion wasn’t the issue. She’d use the coat like a matador’s cape, a good defense.

Offense? Holly reached into her jacket pocket. The links from Liv’s belt had three holes wide enough for her fingers. She slid one onto her left hand to use as brass knuckles. The other she’d keep in her palm for throwing.

Noise from the front bedroom signaled her time was up. The guys were on the move. She had to stop them from coming into the closet to find Liv gone. Fighting against her gag reaction, Holly hauled the camp toilet to a spot by the door. If they rushed in, they’d trip over it, giving her precious moments to gain the advantage.

But they didn’t try to enter the closet. Holly heard Mike say, “Liv? You can come out now.” The door bolt slid back, and then there was silence.

Holly kicked the door open, her foot impelled by the vicious rage she felt toward Mike. He was ready to murder his own flesh and blood for money. Even crazy Dan was better; he wanted to protect his precious Karina.

Neither of them were stupid enough to stand behind the door. When Holly stepped over the loathsome toilet, fur coat wadded in her arms, she saw they’d retreated to the room’s doorway. Dan stood behind Mike and slightly to his right. The big sound weapon dangled from Mike’s hand.

“Where’s Liv?” Mike asked.

“Catching up with her social network. I’ll take her turn.”

Dan shrugged. “Doesn’t matter who’s first. Brent’s still not here. We’ll do the test without him. What’s that?” He nodded toward the fur.

“Sable, I think.” Holly unfurled the coat to conceal her brass knuckle and a furtive step to the right. Mike’s body was now blocking Dan’s Taser.

“Put the coat down,” Dan said.

“Come take it from me.”

Dan shoved Mike forward. “Just use the damned thing.”

Mike said slowly, “Holly, I really hope this works out.” And then he winked.

What?

He winked again.

“Stuff it, Mike.” Holly watched his lips mouth silent words. She couldn’t make out what he was trying to say. “You…you’re scum,” she babbled, playing for time. “Money-grubbing slime. You disgust me.”

Dan grinned, obviously enjoying the performance. Holly kept going, though Mike’s message was clear now:
Throw the coat
. Was he setting her up, or did he have a plan? Should she trust Mike Smallwood? “You’re not even man enough to punch up the guy who’s screwing your wife,” Holly spat out.

“She’s got your number.” Dan chuckled, and then his face turned cold. “Get on with it.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” Mike lifted the weapon. “You sure it’s set right? The dial’s all the way to the left.”

“Can’t be.” Dan shifted the Taser to his left hand and then reached for the hammer-shaped weapon. “I watched the kid turn it to the right. It was—”

Holly threw the coat. She dove behind a dresser, praying she made the right choice, heard the sizzling pop of Taser bolts and a loud CRACK! A scream ripped the air, pure anguish, piercing and prolonged.

She peeked around the dresser, fingering Liv’s metal belt link, ready to throw it as her last defense if Mike was screaming. But it was Dan who wailed, whole body shaking, hands gripping his face. The jaw hung too low, like a cartoon character with an oversized mouth. Sprawled on the ground, Mike grimaced when he put weight on his broken arm but he never took eyes off Dan. He held the sound weapon pointed at Dan’s head.

Holly pieced together what happened. Dan thought she was attacking when the coat flew at him. He fired his stunner, which lay on the floor, spent bolts stuck into fur. Mike clobbered Dan with the sound hammer, hitting Dan’s weak point, the fragile jaw. Mike dodged a blow from Dan or tripped. He was getting to his feet now.

Dan stopped screaming when he slumped to the floor. A shadow swept over him and then a man moved into view, muttering “Too much noise.” He knelt to inspect Dan, said, “Still breathing,” and stood to face Mike. He had something small and hammer-shaped in one gloved hand.

Mike retreated into the room a few steps. He gripped his weapon but said in a friendly voice, “Hello, Brent.”

Startled by his change in appearance, Holly heard Brent say, “Hate the name.” He held up his left palm. “Need that.” He nodded toward the weapon.

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