Home Before Midnight (45 page)

Read Home Before Midnight Online

Authors: Virginia Kantra

Tags: #Contemporary Romance, #mobi, #Romantic Suspense, #epub, #Fiction

BOOK: Home Before Midnight
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He slammed the door of his truck, trying to quell the panic pounding in his chest. Bailey was fine. He was in time. He had a genuine lead at last, and Macon Reynolds didn’t even realize he was under suspicion.
 
But an irrational urgency drove him.
 
A bell suspended above the law office door jangled as he entered.
 
A pale older woman with a slash of red lipstick looked up at the sound. “Good morning. May I help you?”
 
“Yes, ma’am.” Steve flashed ID. “I’m here to see Macon Reynolds.”
 
She glanced over her shoulder nervously. “I’m sorry, he’s not in.”
 
Steve followed the direction of her gaze to where an office door stood half open. “You don’t mind if I see for myself.”
 
“Well, really, I—”
 
He strode inside; stopped in surprise. Regan Poole curled in the big black leather chair behind the desk, her chin propped on one hand, a notebook in her lap.
 
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
 
She stretched indolently, calling attention to the long line of her legs, the thrust of her breasts. “I could ask you the same thing.”
 
Steve glanced around the empty office. “Where’s Reynolds?”
 
“Wow, another good question.”
 
He leveled a look at her.
 
Regan flushed. “I honestly don’t know. Frankly, I don’t care if I never see that bastard again.”
 
“Then what are you doing here?”
 
“Catching up on my reading.” She flashed the notebook at him.
 
Printed in bold, black letters on the purple cover were the words, TANYA DAWLER. MY DIARY. KEEP OUT.
 
Steve’s heart hurtled into this throat. Cold sweat broke out under his arms and down his back. “Where did you get that?”
 
“In his desk. It’s pathetic, really. He knocked her up, and she actually thought he loved her and was going to marry her and make her life all better.” Regan laughed shortly. “I could have told her how that one turns out. What are you doing?”
 
He ignored her, already punching Bailey’s preset number into the cell phone gripped in his hand.
 
Pause. Click. Ring
.
 
Come on, sugar,
he thought desperately.
Pick up.
 
Ring. Ring
.
 
 
 
 
BAILEY’S cell phone shrilled from her purse.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
 
She knelt at her sister’s feet, tying Leann’s ankles to the chair legs with bras from her own overnight bag. A third bra secured Leann’s hands behind her. Macon’s handkerchief was stuffed in her mouth. Bailey’s fingers fumbled. Her eyes swam with terrified tears. She could barely see the knots she was making. She tied them as loosely as she dared. Given enough time, Leann might be able to work herself free.
 
Too bad they’d both be dead before then.
 
Ring. Ring. Ring
.
 
Bailey jerked. She turned her head to Macon, sitting on the edge of the mattress. With an effort she focused on his face, ignoring the muzzle of the gun, which stared at her like a third, blank eye. “I should probably answer that.”
 
Macon sneered. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
 
Stupid. Sick. Psycho
.
 
Bailey’s heart pounded in her chest. She did her best to answer evenly. “I think you’ve been lucky. But your luck can’t hold out forever. If I don’t answer my phone, someone’s going to guess something’s wrong.”
Please, God, let Steve guess something’s wrong.
 
“Or they’ll think you’re in the shower.” Macon smirked. He stood, looming over them both. Leann shrank. “Where are the tapes?”
 
Bailey’s mouth dried. “What tapes?”
 
“Don’t play dumb. Everybody always says what a bright girl you are. I want the interview tapes.”
 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
 
“You will,” he promised. “Of course, by then it may be too late for your sister.”
 
Leann whimpered.
 
It was too late anyway. He couldn’t afford to let either of them live now. But maybe Leann hadn’t realized that yet. Bailey hoped not.
 
She didn’t say anything.
 
Macon waved the gun. “Over there.”
 
Bailey scuttled to the dresser on her knees. If she could distract his attention from Leann, maybe they had a chance. If Leann could get her hands free . . . If Bailey could stall him long enough . . . Sooner or later, Steve would come looking for her. She just had to keep them alive until then.
 
Macon watched her cross the floor, his gun pointed unwaveringly at her head. “That’s good.”
 
She stopped.
 
Casually, he reached across his body with his free hand and backhanded Leann across her face, snapping her head against the chair.
 
Bailey’s cry merged with her sister’s scream, a high, thin sound from behind the gag. Above her distended mouth, Leann’s eyes were wide and terrified, the left one already rapidly swelling shut.
 
After one horrified look, Bailey fixed her gaze on Macon, willing him to look at her. To focus on her.
 
“Oh,
those
tapes,” she said.
 
He chuckled, smoothing his hair. His hand trembled slightly. His knuckles were red. “Now she remembers,” he mocked.
 
“I was confused before.” She didn’t have to pretend to produce that quaver in her voice. She would beg, she would cry, she would do whatever it took to stay alive.
 
Whatever happened, she vowed fiercely, Steve would never have to question her will to fight.
 
“The interviews aren’t actually on cassette tapes,” she explained. “They’re computer files. Like music downloads,” she added when he frowned.
 
“I don’t believe you.” He raised his hand again.
 
Leann cringed.
 
“Stop! I’ll show you,” Bailey said desperately. Her muscles ached with tension. Her hands shook with fear. “If you’d listen . . . it will only take a minute.”
 
He considered her thoughtfully. In the silence, her phone trilled again, three short rings before voice mail routed the call. Bailey held her breath.
 
“This computer?” Macon asked finally.
 
She exhaled. “The interviews aren’t . . . um . . . actually on the computer. They’re stored on a flash drive in my purse. I’ll just . . .” She reached cautiously for her purse on the floor by the bed.
 
He kicked her in the side, so swiftly she didn’t see it coming, so hard the pain detonated along her ribs and forced the air from her lungs. White pain. Red light. Her mind went blank.
 
She lay with her cheek pressed to the carpet and tried to breathe while above her Leann moaned.
 
Not Leann,
Bailey realized gradually. The moans were hers.
 
“I told you not to answer the phone,” Macon chided.
 
“No . . . phone,” Bailey gasped. “Just . . . flash drive.”
 
Every breath stabbed like a knife. Had that bastard broken her ribs?
 
“You have to ask.” He plucked her cell phone from its pocket and dangled her purse above the floor, smiling at her like a fifth-grade bully spotting his victim across the playground. “Nicely.”
 
She hated him more than she had hated anyone in her life. Which was good. Hate made her strong.
 
“Please,” she whispered.
 
Please don’t let him open my purse.
 
Please don’t let him look inside.
 
Please let Steve come soon.
 
Please
.
 
Macon let the bag drop.
 
Bailey crawled forward, her sides aching, and dragged her purse to her by its strap. With shaking hands, she pawed through the contents. Tissues, Tic Tacs, condoms, mace . . . Her heart hammered against her ribs. She panted with fear and triumph. Curling her fingers, she withdrew the flash drive and the mace together.
 
“Got it.”
 
 
 
 
R ACING toward the motel—lights, no sirens—Steve prayed, as he hadn’t prayed since Teresa was first diagnosed with cancer, negotiating with God.
 
Please let me get there on time.
 
Please let Bailey be all right.
 
Please strike that fucking bastard with lightning
.
 
And finally, breathlessly, hopelessly, just . . .
Please
.
 
If Macon was holding Bailey hostage . . . Steve’s heart shuddered.
 
Fuck the chief ’s notions of jurisdiction. He needed a SWAT team. He’d already broadcast to the dispatcher requesting all available backup. Every cop in radio range, from the Stokesville PD to the county sheriff to the state patrol, knew a crisis situation was brewing at the Pinecrest Motor Lodge.
 
Bailey had told him he wasn’t responsible for his wife’s choices or her death. But if he lost Bailey, it would be his fault. It would be because he hadn’t been smart enough or quick enough to save her.
 
He had survived losing Teresa. He wasn’t sure he could survive loving and losing Bailey.
 
He should have told her.
 
After all his big talk about living in the moment, he had wasted too many moments with her.
 
He only prayed he’d get another chance.
Please
.
 
TWENTY-TWO
 
E
VERY breath hurt.
 
Bailey stared at the computer keyboard. Her vision blurred. Her head swam. She pressed her thighs together, squeezing the tiny canister of mace between them. She couldn’t use it. She didn’t dare. Macon wasn’t close enough.
 
So she would fight him with every other weapon at her disposal. With trembling hands, she depressed a few keys, closed and opened windows, searching through PLAY and RECORD.
 
On the other side of the room, Macon moved restlessly, his gun at the ready. “You said this would only take a minute.”
 
Every minute she delayed was another minute she could live. Another minute for Steve to find them.
All we have is the time we’re given,
he’d told her. The words took on a terrible significance now.
 
Once she played the audio file, there was no going back. Macon would kill her.
 
Who was she kidding? He was going to kill her anyway.
 
And Leann.
 
Above her makeshift gag, her sister’s eyes begged her to help her, to save her.
Brainy Bailey. If you’re so smart, think of something. Do something.
 
Right.
 
Bailey licked dry lips. “This is the interview.” She clicked to start it, praying the computer could perform two functions at once.
 
Macon listened just long enough to identify both voices before he ordered, “Delete it.”
 
“It’s not that bad,” Bailey said.
Time,
she thought.
Keep him talking.
“It might actually help you. Billy Ray never gave Paul a name. I don’t think he even knew you were the father of Tanya’s child.”
 
“Until Ellis told him.” Macon shook his head. “Twenty years that dumb fuck kept his mouth shut. And your boss couldn’t leave it alone.”
 
Bailey’s heart hammered. “So you killed Billy Ray before he could talk.”
 
“I didn’t kill him. I wouldn’t dirty my hands with him. Dawler trash.” He smiled, a small, mean smile that made her shudder. “I had someone else do it.”

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