Joanna Wayne - Showdown at Shadow Junction

Reality finally seeped through the brain fog. Whatever had happened last night, Reggie was in on it, possibly the mastermind, though there had been others.

“A dirty cop. You disappoint me, Reggie. I expected so much more of you.”

“No, like you, I’m just after what I can get in the world, only I don’t have your looks to sleep my way into wealth.”

Ire rose in her throat. She struggled to keep control. This was no time to go off half-cocked. She had a lot more to worry about now than defending her morals.

“The last I remember, the necklace was still around my neck. If anyone took it, it had to be you or one of your partners in crime.”

“Wrong answer.”

Jade stared into Reggie’s eyes and shuddered at the icy threat she saw reflected in them. The lines of his face were drawn into sharp angles. His muscles clenched.

He pulled a pistol from his shoulder holster and pointed it at her head. “Either the necklace or a bullet, Jade. Now.”

Her blood ran cold. He was not merely threatening. He meant to kill her if she didn’t tell him how or where to find the missing jewelry. A location she couldn’t possibly reveal since she had no idea where it was.

There had to be a way out of this. She just had to find it. Quick. She put her fingers to her temples. “I can’t think clearly. It’s all the drugs you pumped into me. I need time for my mind to clear.”

“Then I guess you’d better get used to your surroundings. I can’t sit around and make chitchat all day. I have to get back on the job.”

“Playing the role of good cop?”

“Yeah. All those years of bit roles in bad TV shows before joining the force are finally paying off. The chief gave me a new assignment this morning—to find the sexy event planner who killed Quaid Vaquero and disappeared with his multimillion-dollar masterpiece.”

So Reggie had not only killed Quaid but found a way to blame it on her. And once he got his hands on the necklace he’d kill her, too. He was way too smart to leave any loose ends to foul up his scheme.

Even if she convinced him she didn’t know the whereabouts of the necklace, he’d kill her.

“If you know I was wearing the necklace, the champagne delivery must have been part of your scheme,” she said, buying time.

“Absolutely. A nice touch, don’t you think? A little Rohypnol for you and Quaid to make our encounter so much more pleasant for everyone. Also convenient that you were so enthralled with Quaid that you didn’t notice the drug being slipped into your newly uncorked bottle of bubbly.”

“You cops do think of everything.”

Which would make outsmarting him difficult. She looked around the room again, this time searching for anything she could use as a weapon or an escape route.

There was only one door, the one Reggie had entered through and closed behind him so that she couldn’t see past this one room. The two small windows on the other side of the bed were shuttered, no doubt nailed shut from the outside.

The clutter in the room consisted of piles of old magazines and newspapers, stacks of cardboard boxes that had been secured with heavy tape, several fishing rods, an empty cigarette pack and an open box of shotgun shells. No sign of a shotgun.

Her black evening handbag was on a marred pine table, its few contents scattered around it, including her wallet. Her stilettos were on the floor. Used just right, they could put an eye out, though she couldn’t imagine them being a match for Reggie’s ready pistol.

Inches of dust had accumulated on everything. Brown stains spread over the ceiling where water had leaked through.

“Where are we?” Jade asked.

“My late father’s fishing camp. It was about all he left me and my brother.”

“In New York?”

“Yes, but miles from the city. Feel free to scream for help. No one will hear you.”

“I suppose your brother, Mack, is in on this, too.”

“Nope. Mack is a stickler for rules. Doesn’t even get parking tickets. Always was Dad’s favorite. Still is Mom’s.”

“I wonder why.”

Mack Lassiter owned and operated the security company that Ruth Stevens, Jade’s boss at Effacy Corporate Event Planning, always insisted they use. At least it was nice to know Mack was honest, even if his moonlighting brother was evil to the core.

Mack would surely know about the fishing cabin. Only there was no reason he’d come looking for her, no reason for him to suspect his cop brother was involved in Quaid’s murder or in her disappearance.

For all Jade knew, the other men in the hotel room last night were also cops, possibly even working the security detail with Reggie.

If she managed to escape, did she dare call the police for protection or would that just guarantee that Reggie would be the first to reach her?

“What am I supposed to do for a bathroom?” she asked.

“There’s an outhouse. You’ll have to watch for spiders, rats and yellow jackets. They’ve pretty much taken over the place. And be on the lookout for roaches inside the pages of the old catalog that serves as tissue.”

Her stomach retched. Still she straightened her dress as best she could, wishing she’d worn something that buttoned to the neck—not that she owned any dresses like that.

“Bring it on,” she said, going for fake bravado. She could do without the outhouse, but she did need to see what was outside this room and to search for an escape route.

“Actually, we have indoor plumbing these days,” Reggie admitted. “But I don’t advise drinking or even washing your mouth out with it. Pipes are rusted.”

He walked over to the door and opened it, then motioned for her to lead the way. “Almost forgot,” he taunted, just as she reached the door. “I have a bracelet for you, though not nearly as becoming as the earrings your Spanish lover gave you.”

So he knew about not only the necklace but the earrings as well, information she hadn’t had until minutes before the champagne arrived.

Reggie obviously had an accomplice on the inside. But who? The only employee Quaid had brought to the States was Javier Aranda, a longtime friend who had come two weeks before Quaid’s arrival to check out the hotel where Quaid had reservations and to meet with Ruth and Jade. Javier had left to fly back to Barcelona a few days after Quaid’s arrival.

Reggie slipped the handcuffs around her wrist and locked them. “That way,” he said, shoving her past him.

The bathroom was down a short, narrow hallway. Just past that she glimpsed a large square room with a range, a refrigerator and a dinette set, all old and worn enough that they’d feel at home in the Smithsonian.

Reggie shoved her again, this time into the bathroom. “The door stays open a crack,” he said. He took out his gun and waved it around threateningly before stepping away and leaving her alone.

He wasn’t taking any chances with her escaping, but he wasn’t going to shoot her, not as long as he thought she knew the location of the costly necklace. That was the one thing in her favor.

Inhibited by the cuffs, she struggled to get her panties down and take care of business. As she pulled them up again, Reggie’s words came back to haunt her. He’d searched her for the necklace, and that obviously involved more than just patting her down.

There was no mirror, so she pulled up her dress and examined her body as best she could. No bruises around her thighs, breasts or abdomen, though there was a nasty one on her left arm. No bite marks around her nipples. No pain inside her that would indicate rape.

Thankfully, Reggie was apparently too obsessed with finding the necklace to concern himself with anything else. As bad as things were, they could have been worse. She’d hold on to that and take it as a good omen.