Allison Brennan - Fear No Evil

“You never knew where she was. You bluffed.”

Scott smiled. “You’ll never know, will you? Kate was pretty good with the computer. Even I began to admire her savvy. But I’m better. I’ve always been better. Kate leads with her heart, thinking she can save the world when she should be more concerned about saving herself.”

Dillon’s jaw clenched involuntarily, and Scott noticed.

“You like her, don’t you?”

“I love my sister.”

“Kate.”

“I barely know her.”

Scott shook his head, smiled. “Interesting.” He took out his cell phone, pressed a few buttons.

Suddenly, the knife came down hard on Dillon’s free hand. He screamed out of pain and surprise, his arm jerking in response. The knife pierced both sides, then Scott pulled it out and Dillon tried, and failed, to bite back a second scream.

“Thanks,” Scott said, pressing buttons on his cell phone. “Let’s get this party rolling, shall we?”

Twenty minutes earlier, Lucy had gone to shower. Jack liked long showers, but something didn’t seem quite right. He pictured her in her bedroom when he last talked to her. She had been holding something.

A cell phone.

He went to check on her. She’d been acting a little…strange earlier. He didn’t want to make anything of it; if anyone had the right to act odd it was Lucy. But his instincts told him she was being deceptive.

Jack always trusted his instincts.

He heard the shower at the end of the hall. She’d been in there too long. He didn’t want to break into the bathroom and scare her. Especially after the rape.

But he suspected that Lucy would think that way, that he would give her privacy, not worry if the shower was running…

He rapped loudly on the bathroom door three times. “Lucy? It’s Jack. How are you doing?”

No answer.

Jack tried the knob. Locked. “Lucy? Open up. Now. Or tell me to go away and I will. I need to know that you’re okay.”

No answer.

Jack slammed his boot down hard on the doorknob and the old lock broke.

Steam and moisture escaped the room. Jack pulled back the shower curtain, for a split second thinking Lucy had killed herself.

But she wasn’t there at all.

KATE DROVE to the Kincaid family house using the directions Quinn had given her off the Internet. Something was bothering her and she couldn’t figure out what.

All she wanted was to see Dillon and tell him she was sorry she’d been so weird about meeting his family. The fact that he wanted her to meant everything to her. She would just suck it up and put on a happy face and do it for Dillon.

The Kincaids lived in an older, well-maintained middle-class neighborhood of post-World War II houses. Small bungalows interspersed with more modern two stories. Large, deep front yards and lots of trees.

Movement to the right caught her eye. A jogger?

She looked at the house numbers: 340, 342, 344. That was it, the modest two-story house with a yard bursting with color.

Someone was lurking outside the house.

She slammed on the brakes and jumped from the car.

That was no jogger. Someone was jumping over the fence. Not into the Kincaid backyard, but coming from the Kincaid backyard.

Kate ran, caught sight of the suspect. Long dark hair in a ponytail. Five foot seven, one hundred thirty pounds.

Lucy.

“Lucy Kincaid! Stop!”

Lucy looked over her shoulder. “No. Go away!” She ran faster.

Kate sprinted after her, tackled her on the front lawn two houses down.

“Get off me! Get off me!” Lucy screamed. “He’s going to kill him. Let me go!”

Kate held her firmly, but pulled her into her lap, pinning Lucy’s arms to her sides. She didn’t want to hurt her, but there was no way she was letting Lucy go.

“Lucy, stop. Why are you running?”

Lucy stopped struggling. “Trevor is going to kill Dillon. You have to let me go. Please.” Her voice quivered in panic and fear.

Kate’s heart pounded. “You mean Adam Scott?”

“Right, Adam. He has Dillon.”

“How do you know?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Kate saw Jack run from the Kincaid house, gun drawn. He saw her and Lucy and made a beeline for them.

“I saw. He called me.”

“Adam Scott called you?”

“Yes. Thirty minutes ago. My time is almost up. He’s going to kill Dillon! I have to save him.”

“Why do you think Adam Scott has Dillon?” Kate asked as Jack stood next to them, his eyes scanning the area. Her entire body tensed. If it was true…

“My phone.”

Kate loosened her hold on Lucy, who reached into her pocket and handed Kate her phone. Kate opened it, looked at the last message sent.

Dillon, shirt and face bloodied, handcuffed to a bed.

“Get her inside,” Jack said.

“Come on, Lucy. Let’s go inside.” Kate helped her up.

“No! I’m supposed to be at Dillon’s house right now! I’m going to be late.”

“Is Dillon there?” Kate asked.

“He said he’d contact me when I got there.”

“This is Dillon’s house,” Jack said. He pointed to the nightstand. “That’s Justin, our nephew, in the photograph on the nightstand.”

Scott had contacted Lucy at 4:50 that afternoon. He had probably been waiting for Dillon when he arrived home.

It was 5:20 p.m.

Kate stood. “This is going to end right now. I’m going.”

“No,” Jack said. “He’ll kill you.”

“Not right away.” She stared at Jack. “You take Lucy back to the house. I’ll go in.”

“No way am I letting you go without backup.”

Jack was right. “Okay,” she agreed. “I need a layout of Dillon’s house.”

“Let’s go inside and talk to my dad. I’ve never been in Dillon’s house.”

And at this moment, Kate knew Jack regretted it.

Inside, Dillon’s father, Pat Kincaid, drew a makeshift blueprint while Kate called Quinn and told him what had happened. He was calling in a local SWAT team.

Kate looked at Pat’s drawing. “Are these two the only doors?”

Pat nodded. “Front and back. The back leads right into the kitchen. The dining room separates the kitchen from the living room, then there’s a short hall here, his office here, a bathroom, and his bedroom here.”

His bedroom was in the rear of the house.

“Where are the windows?”

Pat drew them in. “Three, one large window on this wall, and two narrow windows on either side of the bed.”

“I’m going to the front door. Alone. He won’t let me in if he sees anyone. Jack, as soon as Dillon is alone in the bedroom, you go in through this window”-she indicated the one in the rear-“and get him out.”

“What about you?” Jack said. “You can’t go in there unarmed, and he’s not going to open the door without a hostage.”

“He’s cocky. I keep my hands up, he’ll open the door to me. Or unlock it. We can wait for the SWAT team to get into place, but I don’t think we have that much time.”

“You think he’s going to kill Dillon?” Pat said somberly.

“As soon as Dillon is of no benefit, yes. But right now he’s safe. Without a live hostage, Scott knows he can’t win.”

Lucy’s cell phone rang. It sat in the middle of the table.

Kate caught her eye. “Answer it. Tell him your brother Jack is sitting outside your bedroom door and you can’t get out. Buy time.”

Lucy nodded, shaking. She answered the phone.

“Hello.”

“You’re late.”

“Jack is sitting outside my door. I can’t get out.”

“Climb out the window.”

“I’ll try, but-”

“Five minutes or Dillon is dead.”

Suddenly, an earsplitting scream came from the phone. Kate sucked in her breath.