Iris Johansen - Dark Summer

Danner frowned. "No, it was a cell, and she hung up too soon. We may have gotten the nearest tower."

Enright frowned. "That's not my fault. I kept her on the line long enough."

Danner smothered his irritation. He was becoming increasingly annoyed with the arrogant bastard. But Enright might still prove useful. "Yes, you were quite lengthy and vicious. I was impressed. It takes a certain determined mind-set for murder. Were you telling the truth about Garrett?"

Enright didn't answer.

"Ah, I think you were. You're going to get along very well in Nigeria."

"Even if you didn't get the trace, I sent her running. I know her. She might not bolt if it was just her safety involved, but she won't risk other people. And she said she was going to throw the phone away, but she won't do it. If I call her again, maybe we can get a trace and pick her up."

"And then what would you do?"

"Whatever you want me to do."

Danner gave him a shrewd glance. "I'm not sure that's true. You're practically salivating about all the foul acts you want to inflict on the lady."

"She deserves it."

"And I'm perfectly willing for you to have your way. I believe you're the perfect person to persuade her to tell us where Marrok is right now. I'm looking forward to it." It was the truth. He had been imagining Enright with the woman and it would be almost like having his hands on her himself. "I've always found there's something wildly exhilarating about inflicting pain. Male victims are interesting, but women's bodies are so soft, and there so many ways to hurt them. You don't mind if I watch?"

"No." Enright's cheeks were flushed, his eyes glittering. "I believe I'd like it. Shall I call her?"

It was certainly tempting, but Danner still had another option, and it might be a safer one than the one Enright was offering. Though not nearly as exciting. "Not yet." Danner smiled. "Give her a little time. Anticipation can be so delicious."

"I DIDN'T EXPECT THIS," BRIDGETsaid slowly. "Does Marrok know about this slimeball of a husband of yours?"

"Yes. Didn't you?" Devon asked. "You seem to know everything that goes on around here." Devon fastened her duffel and lifted it off the bed. "You and Lincoln."

"There were a few other things of importance going on. I knew Enright existed. I didn't know he'd cause problems."

"He's causing problems," Devon said flatly. "I have to get away from here. It's what you've been wanting since I came. Now's your big chance to get rid of me. Will you help me leave?"

Bridget didn't answer. "You're afraid of him? He sounds pretty much like scum, but nothing that Marrok couldn't handle."

"He's not going to get the chance. It's my problem. I made a bad mistake when I married Lester, and I know one man has already died because I made that mistake. Marrok's not going to die. And Marrok's not going to kill because of me."

"And he knew about Marrok and Santa Marina. He must have really wanted to find you."

"He's always been able to track me down. He digs until he finds out anything he wants to know. Now are you going to help me or not?"

"I'm thinking about it." Bridget was staring at her. "I'm surprised you trust me."

"I don't trust you. Not worth a damn. But I'm giving you what you want, so there's no reason not to trust you about this. Do you know a place I can stay until I can make plans?"

She nodded. "There's an old vacant winery in the Napa Valley. That should be safe enough for you."

Devon's lips twisted. "According to you, I'm not safe anywhere. No deadly forebodings lately?"

"Mock all you please. I only told you what I felt. But if it makes you feel any better, so far it's only a feeling. No visions. I've never had a vision that didn't come true."

Devon felt that familiar chill. "Then I'm evidently a lucky woman."

"It depends on what you call lucky. If you think talking me into helping you is lucky, then you struck it rich." Bridget turned toward the door. "Let's go. We'll take the jeep."

"We won't run into Marrok? Where is he?"

"He and Walt went to pick up Addie from Sarah Logan's. He said he wants to have all the dogs in one place."

"You already saw him this morning?"

She nodded. "Evidently this was my morning for getting calls to come up to the house."

"Why did he want you?"

She shrugged. "He said he needed me to take over guarding you. I guess that was the gist of it. He was a little reserved."

Reserved . It wasn't a word Devon would ever have connected with Marrok. Yet his response last night hadn't been what she'd expected either. There had been passion close to desperation toward the end, but before that she had sensed a multitude of other emotions so elusive that she had been left bewildered and uncertain.

And he hadn't stayed with her after she had fallen asleep. He had gotten up and called Bridget and told her to take Devon off his hands. Perhaps not that brutally, but that didn't ease the hurt she was feeling.

What was she thinking? she wondered in self-disgust. None of that was important any longer.

Keeping Marrok alive was important.

Making sure Lester never found her was important.

She had to survive and make sure of both. But she'd need one more thing if she was to do that. "Can you get me a gun, Bridget?"

"No problem." Bridget gave her a glance over her shoulder. "I'll give you one before I leave you at the winery."

"THE WINERY HAS BEEN VACANTfor the last ten years. It's in pretty bad disrepair." Bridget parked in front of the old Spanish-style hacienda. "And I don't know if there's any food in the pantry. We'll have to see."

"I won't need much food. I'm only going to stay here until I get my head on straight about what's best to do." Devon got out of the car and grabbed her duffel from the backseat. "Is there a town close by where I can rent a car?"

"About fifteen miles west." Bridget got out of the car "You could probably call and have them bring one out." She strode toward the door. "Come on. I want to get going. I brought you here. Now it's up to you."

"That's fine with me," Devon said. "I don't want you to-"

"God in heaven, I'm sick and tired of all this damn phoniness," Bridget interrupted curtly as she threw open the door. "Dammit, get out here," she yelled. "I've served her up to you. Now take her off my hands."

"Don't be impatient, Bridget." Chad Lincoln strolled into the foyer from the back of the house. "That's always been one of your primary faults. Along with monumental arrogance. You were always sure that you were smarter than I was." Almost casually, he took an automatic pistol from his jacket pocket and pointed it at Devon. "But in this case you may have come through with something of value."

Devon stiffened, the breath leaving her body. "What's all this about, Lincoln?"

"Betrayal. Greed. Perhaps, death. The last rather depends on you."

"Stop talking bull, Lincoln." Bridget turned to Devon. "You don't have to be afraid if you do what we say. It could all be over tomorrow if Marrok agrees to terms."

"Losing your nerve?" Lincoln smiled. "She didn't want to be the one actually to threaten you, Devon. It surprised me. She's not usually this soft. She needed me to point the gun, pull the trigger." He gestured with the gun. "Go into the bedroom and relax. I've got it all prepared for you. Windows boarded up and not a hint of a weapon to be found."

Devon didn't move.

"Never doubt I will hurt you," Lincoln said. "I prefer to keep you alive since Bridget seems to think we may be able to negotiate for the four dogs. She says Marrok may have a soft spot for you."

"Bridget is mistaken."

"Perhaps. But she's seldom wrong, and if it's not enough of a weakness for negotiation, it may at least give me the plea sure of depriving him of something he wants. I owe him one."