MARCUS (Dragon Security Book 4) (13 page)

BOOK: MARCUS (Dragon Security Book 4)
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Chapter 21

 

Megan

“He didn’t go anywhere,” Dante insisted. “Home. And he didn’t make any calls, except a couple of calls to his wife’s cell that went unanswered.”

“Do I want to know how you know that?”

He looked a little sheepish, but he didn’t answer, didn’t even acknowledge the question.

I plopped myself down in my office chair, the wheels turning in my head. “He has to have told someone. Someone who tried to have Cadence killed.”

“What if it’s his wife?”

I shook my head. “She wants this baby. I saw her.”

“Are you sure?”

I shrugged, running the scene over in my head again, Annie Zimmerman collapsing when Blake told her that Cadence had been shot at. It didn’t make sense.

“It looks like she’s probably the only person Blake told about Cadence. And I looked at the papers they signed with her—”

“How?”

Dante shrugged. “I have my methods.”

I stared at him for a long minute, thinking it was a good thing he was on our side. “And?”

“There’s a life insurance policy they took out on Cadence in order to help them recoup any losses should she and the child die before they can take custody. It’s worth over a million dollars.”

“When did it go into effect?”

“The day it was signed.”

“And the beneficiaries?”

“Blake and Annie Zimmerman.”

It didn’t make sense. I stood and marched to the door.

“Sam? Did we do a financials check on the Zimmermans when we took their case?”

“It’s in the computer.”

I returned to my desk, but Sam was there right behind me, leaning over me to bring up the appropriate file. I watched her, wondering why she was wearing so much foundation when she rarely ever wore makeup at all. But then she stepped back and I found myself looking at a literal financial horror, a bank account that paid out more every month than it had coming in.

“Blake Zimmerman sank all his money into his car dealerships, and they haven’t been doing well. Gas prices, I’d assume.”

“And you didn’t feel the need to point this out earlier?”

Sam shrugged. “I thought you’d seen it. But since the target wasn’t him or his wife, I wasn’t sure it had any bearing.”

I looked at Dante. “Go talk to Blake. Find out where his wife is.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, snapping a playful salute.

I watched him go, but my eyes fell on Sam. She didn’t think I was looking. She was leaning against the desk, breathing a little heavily.

“Hey,” I said, taking her hand. “You okay?”

She caught my eye, forcing a smile. “Fine.”

“You’re not fine, Sam. What’s going on with you?”

She shrugged. “You know me, you know my issues.”

I nodded. Sam had lupus and she occasionally had flare-ups that left her weak and sore. Her lupus was systematic, often leaving her anemic. But she’d had it under control for years. In fact, I’d almost forgotten she suffered from it.

“Are you having a flare up? Do you need time off?”

She shook her head. “Just a little anemia. You know how it is.”

I stood and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, pulling her back against me. Sam wasn’t just my best friend. We’d grown up together. She was like the sister I never had, the other part of me that was always there. I didn’t know what I’d do without her.

“You would tell me if it was more than that, right?”

“Of course.”

She pulled away, her back to me until she reached the door. Then she turned, completely composed, completely the Sam I’d always known.

“I’m making progress on those files. I should have something concrete for you very soon.”

“Don’t push yourself, Sam. It’s waited this long, a few more days won’t hurt.”

She waved my words off. “I promised. I’ll get it.”

I watched her go, wondering for the first time in the length of our friendship if she was lying to me. But I shoved that thought away because it was simply too frightening to consider.

Besides, I had other things to worry about.

Chapter 22

 

Marcus

It was late afternoon when I finally woke. I cleaned up the mess we’d sort of ignored this morning and washed up our few dishes. Then I took a cup of coffee and walked on the beach a little. Cadence was waiting for me when I came back, curled up in a chair on the back deck, a soft smile on her pretty face as she watched me. I looked at her and I realized that I could really fall in love with her. There’d been girls while I was in the Marines, girls I said all the right things to to get what I wanted. But none of them had looked at me the way she did.

I could fall in love with her.

“We should grill steaks for dinner,” she called as I came closer. “There’s some—”

Before she could finish, a person dressed all in black, including the hood resting low on their head, slipped out of the shadows of the bungalow and wrapped their hands around Cadence’s face. There was something in the person’s hand, something they were shoving up against her nose and mouth. I dropped my coffee mug and ran, but whoever it was managed to drag her into the house and lock the French doors before I could get there.

My gun was in the house. I had nothing on me but the clothes on my back.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

I ran to the side of the house, but those doors were locked, too. And the front doors. It was all glass. I could break them open…I searched around for a large enough rock, but then a voice called out to me.

“Get in your car and get the fuck out of here!”

“I don’t have the keys.”

“You stole that car. Hotwire it like you did all the others.”

It was a female voice. A woman? A woman was trying to kill Cadence?

“I won’t leave without her. Let her go.”

“She’s already dead, sweetheart. And if you don’t want to be dead, too, you’d better get the fuck out of here”

My heart leapt into my throat. I wanted to wrap my hands around the throat of whoever was on the other side of the door. But I needed to stay calm, needed to work this out logically.

“Okay. I’ll go.”

I backed away, my hands raised. I didn’t hear another sound.

I started the car and pulled out of the short drive, racing it down the street. The nearest house was over a mile away. There was only one way in and out, just like Cadence had said. I didn’t see another car, a motorcycle…nothing. How did she get there?

I parked the car a mile up the road, and then quickly ran back. A peek through the bedroom window and I could see Cadence passed out on the bed, the woman pacing a few feet away, talking to herself. I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but I couldn’t imagine it would be hard to guess. She was working up the courage to kill Cadence at close range. Taking shots from a distance was one thing, but doing it up close? That was a whole other ball of wax.

But Cadence was still alive. I could see the gentle rise and fall of her chest. I still had a chance to save her.

I walked back to the French doors outside the living room. They were locked tight, but a good smash to the handle and I could probably break in. The sound would alert the shooter, but I was twice her size. I could overpower her easily.

I found a rock and I was about to slam it down when a hand suddenly snatched out and grabbed my wrist.

Vincent. He held a finger to his lips and gestured for me to follow him.

Hayden was standing a few feet away, waiting behind a small shed set off to the side of the bungalow.

“What are you doing here?”

“Is that really what you want to know?” Hayden demanded. “Your girlfriend’s being held by some maniac and you want to know how we got here?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He lowered the weapon he’d had fixed on the bungalow and turned to me. “You used your real names on the airline tickets. And then someone reported a missing Jeep from the long-term parking at the airport. It didn’t take much to put two and two together. Then Sam did a property search and found this place.” He fixed his glare on me. “Any more questions?”

“How are we going to get her out of there?”

Hayden glanced at Vincent who, in turn, held up a smoke grenade.

“We made a little visit to the Army supply store. You’d be surprised what they have in the backroom that they’re willing to sell when you show off your Marine tattoos.”

“Do you know who she is?”

“Cadence? Of course. But it’s the shooter I’m more interested in. Shot the hell out of my SUV.”

“No, the shooter.”

Hayden’s eyebrow rose. “It’s a woman?”

“Yeah.”

“That changes things a little,” he said, glancing at Vincent. Vincent simply shrugged.

“You take this side,” Hayden said, pointing toward the bungalow. “Vincent will take the far side. And I’ll be in the back. Vincent will throw the grenade through the bedroom window and I’ll break open the back door. You and Vincent will enter at the same time. We’ll converge on the bedroom and take the perp down. Got it?”

I nodded, but as I did, we heard a weapon discharge. I didn’t stop to think. I started running.

“Oh, hell,” Hayden groaned, his footsteps close behind mine.

I burst through the side doors, smashing them with the sheer weight of my body. I ran through the house, jumping over furniture, so determined to get to Cadence that I wasn’t thinking. I just needed to get to Cadence. My imagination was showing me images of her, showing me her body bloody and lifeless in the center of the bed we’d shared until an hour ago. And my heart couldn’t take it. It would quite literally kill me if my vision became a reality.

But then I burst around the corner of the doorway, Hayden grabbing at my shoulder, trying to pull me out of harm’s way. But it wasn’t Cadence’s body on the bed.

It was Annie Zimmerman.

Chapter 23

 

Cadence

I was watching Marcus walk toward me on the beach, a smile on his face. It was late in the evening, nearly time for the sun to go down. My stomach was growling and the infection had abated enough that my appetite was finally coming back. The thought of steaks and baked potatoes was more exciting than I cared to admit. And there was this wonderful charcoal grill right here on the deck.

But then there was a hand over my face, a bitter taste in my mouth, burning my nostrils. I was being dragged backward, Marcus no longer in my line of vision. I felt my hip bounce on the floor, my shoulder wrenched the wrong way, my stitches pulling. It hurt and I think it was the pain that kept the chloroform from working properly.

I went limp, pretending that I was unconscious and that, too, helped reduce the effect as she took the rag away too soon. She dragged me onto the bed, brushing the hood off of her head as she did. I’d known…I hadn’t wanted to believe it, but when I saw her in the hangar yesterday, I knew—Annie Zimmerman.

I watched her move around the room, searching. She found Marcus’ gun hanging over the back of a chair. She took it from the holster, and then she left the room. I heard her call to him, tell him to leave. And I heard the Jeep start up. But I knew he wasn’t leaving me. He wouldn’t leave me.

It was a minute before she came back. She was muttering to herself.

“Accident,” she said. “It should look like an accident. Murder is okay, but an accident is better. It’s a double payout.”

It was as if she was repeating something someone had said to her.

“She has to die. But an accident is better, Annie. More money.”

She kept pacing, talking to herself, moving faster and faster. I watched her, not sure what to do. I wasn’t sure she’d looked at me since she came back or knew that I was awake.

I had to get out of there. I had to find Marcus.

I shifted and waited to see if she would notice. She didn’t. I waited again; I knew I had to be patient. She had the gun, but she was holding it loosely in her hands. If I could get it away from her… Guns made me nervous, but it was my only chance.

I rolled off the bed in one quick movement. Before she even noticed, I rushed her and grabbed her around her knees. She fell over, a great
humph!
coming from between her lips. She leaned forward and tried to hit me over the head with the butt of the gun. I shifted, landing a good punch to her side. She tried again but made contact with her own thigh instead. She was stunned for a long moment. I reached over and grabbed the gun. She held on. We struggled. But then it came free.

I turned and crawled toward the door. She grabbed my ankle. I twisted and hit her on the side of the head with my fist. I crawled again, but she fought me again. We struggled. I managed to get free and I climbed to my feet, thinking it would be so much faster to run out the door. She tried to grab me again. I twisted. The gun somehow got between our bodies. I felt her scratching to get her finger against the trigger. I couldn’t let her. I fought her; all my concentration was on the gun. She kicked me, stepped on my toes. I fought. And then…the gun fired.

I wasn’t sure what was happening at first. I thought that maybe I was hit. But then she slowly fell back, landing across the bed. Blood poured from the center of her chest, right between her full breasts.

From her heart. Her damaged heart.

The gun fell from my hand. There was blood on my hands and on my chest. A scream, a keening scream that was the most terrible sound I’d ever heard, slipped from between my lips. And then Marcus was there, holding me, whispering that everything was going to be all right.

I’d just killed someone. It wasn’t going to be all right.

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