Lisa Gardner - Touch & Go

If that was Kate Chapman’s bedroom, she definitely wasn’t asleep anymore. Most likely, neither was Justin. A man experienced with firearms, and with at least eleven million dollars on the line…

Moving carefully now, feeling out each old, creaky floorboard…

She made it to the front door, located at the base of the main staircase. Above her, a toilet flushing. Footsteps, padding along the hall.

Don’t come down, don’t come down, don’t come down…

Easing out the chain lock. Carefully twisting the bolt lock. Then, the final twist of the knob…

The front door groaned open. Noticeably, audibly. Then, above her, silence. Total silence. And not the good kind of silence. The aware kind of silence. Justin, Kathryn, or all of the above, knew someone had arrived.

Wyatt appeared in the open doorway. He was moving cautiously, his body turned sideways, approaching from an angle to be less of a target. Tessa held up a single finger to her lips, then pointed to the ceiling. He seemed to take the hint, easing silently through the door, to join her at the base of the staircase.

“I think they know,” she murmured low. “Other egresses?”

“Fire escape,” Wyatt whispered back. “First and second floor. I might have greased the rungs. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

Tessa was impressed. Good trick for future reference.

“We gotta move fast,” she murmured.

“Isn’t Chris Lopez alive because of your previous restraint?”

She nodded.

“Then I say, he owes you one. Kathryn is his niece, after all.”

Tessa got the message. Lopez did owe her one. She made the call, then, sixty seconds later, was holding out her cell at the base of the stairs, while Lopez boomed through speakerphone:

“Kate. I know you’re awake. Now stop fucking around and get your ass down here. I just heard what happened to Justin. Cops are gonna be here any second and we gotta get our stories in order. Come on, I’ve already been waiting…”

Total silence.

“Kate! I’m not joking around. You either talk to me, or that’s it. I’m washing my hands of this. Police come around, I’m gonna tell them all about it. Yep, my niece was sleeping with my boss. Yep, she wanted his family to go away. In fact, I actually heard her say on several occasions, if only they’d drop dead…”

A woman’s voice suddenly, from the top of the staircase. “Uncle Chris?”

“Duh!”

“You sound funny.”

“I’m screaming up a goddamn staircase. Throw on some clothes and get down here.”

Tessa could hear floorboards now, as well as low, indistinct murmuring. She was holding her breath. Slowly, she forced herself to release it, keep a light grip on her firearm.

Then, the first floorboard creaking.

“Uncle Chris?”

Tessa moved her phone slightly, cued Lopez.

“In the kitchen,” he called over speakerphone.

Another stair groaning. Tessa and Wyatt easing back into the shadows of the landing.

Kathryn Chapman appeared moments later. She wasn’t in pajamas, but already clad in jeans and a tailored navy blue top. The kind of clothes, Tessa thought, you might wear to board a plane.

The girl turned toward the kitchen, and just like that, Wyatt stepped forward, slapped his palm around her mouth and dragged her back.

Kathryn’s face paled, her blue eyes widening into saucers. She spotted Tessa and, far from being reassured, struggled even more. Which told Tessa a couple of things, such as Kathryn clearly viewed her as the opposition, and as such, during their first conversation, had most likely lied through her teeth.

“He’s up there, isn’t he?” Tessa murmured now.

Kathryn attempted to shake her head, though Wyatt’s thick arm held her in place.

“He’s told you he’s taking you away. Got some money set aside.”

Kathryn didn’t try to respond, just flushed.

“Forget for an instant that the man has betrayed his own wife. He’s also betrayed his only child. This is the guy you want to run away with?”

Kathryn’s gaze turned mutinous, which Tessa took to mean yes.

Clearly, no help from this woman. So Tessa went with plan B. She opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs.

“No, Mick. Don’t hurt me. I don’t know where he is. Mick! No, no, no! Mick!”

Footsteps, hard and fast. Justin Denbe responding to the evil mercenary’s name and springing into action. Hammering down the stairs. Careening into the foyer, pistol at his side, already in a crouched position in the open doorway.

Tessa watched his gaze ping-pong from the open door, to Kathryn’s restrained form, to herself, who already had her firearm leveled at his head.

“Justin Denbe,” she declared. “Drop your weapon. You are under arrest.”

JUSTIN DIDN’T IMMEDIATELY DROP HIS GUN. Figured, a man like him. He remained crouched, appraising the situation, gaze darting to the open door.

“We know what you did,” Tessa said, aim perfectly level. This close, she had all the time in the world. She continued conversationally. “And I wasn’t making that up. Mick did return last night. He attacked your wife and daughter.”

Justin straightened, finally giving her his full attention.

“What? Is Ashlyn okay? Is Libby okay? I told them, the terms of the agreement…”

“No hurting your wife and child,” Tessa filled in. Beside her, Wyatt was on the move, cuffing Kathryn’s arms behind her back. “That was the deal, right? You hired the men with the explicit instructions not to hurt your wife and child. But they could hurt you. Had to for the nine million dollars in ransom. That’s how you paid them, right? They received at least part of the ransom funds, as promised. That way, you still didn’t have to share your eleven million.”

Justin Denbe, clad in dress jeans, button-up shirt, leather shoes, more clothes suitable for a plane: “Are Ashlyn and Libby all right?”

“Other than terrified? Traumatized? I mean, seriously, who the hell are you to be so concerned about them now? After all you put them through?”

“They were not to be harmed,” he reiterated stubbornly.

Wyatt shoved Kathryn’s cuffed form to the side. “Sixteen years,” he stated. “You embezzled from your own company for sixteen years.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” But he wasn’t looking at them anymore, his gaze once more darting to the open doorway. “Can’t steal from yourself.”

“Oh, you can,” Tessa corrected, grip tightening on her gun. “Because anything you put in your personal accounts you risked owing to your wife, who was bound to figure out about your affairs and demand a divorce. Or you could siphon money into slush funds no one ever knew about. Until sixteen years had passed, and you found yourself with eleven million dollars, a dying business and a jilted wife. Must not have been too hard to make your decision after that. Time to get out, while the getting was good.”

Justin still didn’t say anything. He wasn’t even making eye contact with Kathryn Chapman. Instead, skittishly, he continued to lean toward the open door.

“What time’s your flight?” Tessa asked.

He flinched.

“We got your girlfriend. Gonna travel without her?”

Belatedly, he glanced at Kathryn. Wyatt no longer had his hand over her mouth. She gave an involuntary moan.

“Yep, this is your boyfriend,” Tessa told her. “A man who hired his own kidnappers, faked his own death and abandoned his own family. But, hey, he’s all yours.”

Beside her, Wyatt said, “Mick’s dead. Your wife shot him.”

Justin’s eyes widened. He appeared startled.

“But your daughter has a serious concussion,” Tessa pressed. “She needs you. In fact, your miraculous return from beyond the grave might be exactly the kind of thing that would enable her speedy recovery.”