Assassin Treasure (Assassins Book 4) (3 page)

Candy ate a quick sandwich of cold, sliced canned ham, no condiments, wolfing it down with a glass of lukewarm skim milk, her first meal of the day. After making certain all the doors and windows were secured, she went to the master bedroom and flopped onto the queen-sized bed. Her exhaustion caught up to her. She sighed heavily, and then reached for her little suitcase, taking only a brief moment to change out of her work clothes into a dark, baggy, sweat suit and camisole. Her socks were mismatched but she didn’t care. After a thought, she put her runners on. She drifted onto her bed, her arms and legs leaden.

Grabbing at the edge of the comforter and pulling it snug around her, she nestled under. There would be time to find the sheets and make the bed properly in the morning. Her heavy eyelashes fluttered closed. The quiet darkness of the night encompassed her. She knew for now she was safe, no one could possibly find her here. Drifting off peacefully, refusing to dwell on the horror of the day, Candy succumbed to sleep.

* * * *

Damien left his car parked at a fork in the road, a small ways from where he saw the girl drive. He almost lost her a few times on the winding hilly road devoid of streetlights or life. Only the swirling dust dancing in the moonlight from the gravel road gave him indication to her direction and the occasional flickering of her taillights. He marveled at how fast she could travel in the dark, and without the use of headlights he found the winding road treacherous. He reasoned she must know the area well. The cottage was on a point, surrounded by water on three sides. It was the only cottage within sight lit. Damien moved with stealth, closer, careful of dry vegetation and twigs.

Slipping into the foliage, he waited and calmed his breathing. The drive was long and he wondered as the time passed if the girl would be stopped by police. When they came to the sleepy town, Damien knew no one would be coming to her rescue. In her fear, she was running scared.

Good.

He watched as the lights had been turned on then extinguished. No doubt she felt herself safe and retired for the night. Damien was beyond relieved the girl hadn’t raced directly for the police station, although why she hadn’t made him wonder. He was also relieved, yet confused, when she neither headed to the Darrens’ home with news of the murder. The information would have provided her with a substantial amount of money. From the looks of her shabby car and tiny home, it seemed like she could use it. Although, this cottage was a surprise, perhaps it belonged to a friend. Still, he was certain she was alone. If she planned to meet up with the Darrens here, her poor choice would be suicide. Damien planned on silencing her first.

Damien allowed sufficient time to elapse for her to drift off, considering the circumstances of the day. He was too wired for sleep, but he assumed her fear and mad race to escape had worn her out. He crept up to the back door and tried the knob, turning it with care. It was locked, not really a surprise. He chuckled when he remembered seeing the chair she had jammed up against the door in the office in the building. As if that would deter him, he could’ve kicked the door in, but he hadn’t wanted to take her kicking and screaming from the building, someone was bound to notice. Damien thought of a better plan.

He headed to the side of the cottage and cut the phone lines. He noted earlier while trying to contact his brother, Dirk, his cell phone was inoperable, caused by the many massive hills surrounding them. Undeniably, the woman’s would be useless as well. She was without any means to call for help; thankfully the area was remote and unoccupied. Any cry would go unheard.

Not making a sound, Damien crept up the large front porch overlooking a beautiful view of the small lake, surrounded by tall coniferous trees. He took in as much of his surroundings as possible, his view somewhat obstructed, with only the moonlight for guidance. He tried the front door, again no luck. Damien moved to a window, peeking through the flimsy curtain, he ascertained the woman wasn’t in the room. The screen slid out easily, but the window was locked. He pushed his gloved, splayed hands, hard against the glass of the window, but was unable to get a solid hold. It took only a moment to decide it would be easy enough to remove his fingerprints after he got the woman and subdued her. He tucked the gloves into his back pocket and once more pushed hard on the glass. With satisfaction he noted the space he created between the glass and the lock. With powerful hands he was able to slide the window aside.

Agilely, Damien pulled himself through the large window and inside the empty room. He dropped soundlessly to the hardwood floor, landing on the balls of his feet, and crept for the bedroom door. He was pleased when barely a creak sounded as he turned the knob and headed into the dark, carpeted hallway.

* * * *

Candy lay, eyes wide, paralyzed from fear in her bed. She knew every groan, every creak and rattle of her familiar cottage. Whoever was inside with her right now was a professional. No other would have heard his approach, but Candy knew she wasn’t alone. Chilled to the bone with terror and shaking violently, Candy willed her limbs into motion and pulled into a standing position on her bed. She pulled down the locks on the window above her and cringed at the small squeaking sound the window made when she slid it and the screen open. She knew beyond the shadow of a doubt whoever it was gained access through the small guest room. She raged inwardly for not fixing the lock sooner. She’d need to exit from the high, far side of the cottage; she would be unable to drop onto the close safety of the front deck.

Looking down at the ground, Candy steeled herself for the drop. It was a fair distance, perhaps a little less than a story and a half. Thankfully, she’d slept not only in her clothes, but her running shoes. She pulled onto the narrow ledge, scraping her heels against the wood as her legs dangled down to control her balance. She took a deep breath, searching the darkness below for the safest place to land. Candy hoped to ease her way down the outside of the cottage window and hang feet first, to create a lesser distance.

When her bedroom door was suddenly smashed open, she screamed. The door crashed with a sickening
thud
against the paneled wall. The door handle embedded itself into the wood, in testimony of the large man’s awesome, brutal strength. Without hesitation, Candy jumped. Her arms pin-wheeled wildly in her fear; she’d never in her life jumped so far. She hit the ground hard, her knees crumpled and she rolled heavily onto her side, groaning from impact. Up in a flash, she was crawling furiously under the cottage into the darkness. She heard the man land moments later with a hard thud. The many cement pillars, no more than three feet high, offered her ample protection in the blackness as she crept silently between them. A few times, the top of her head grazed the solid wooden beams above her. She wondered if the man could hear her heart hammering within her thundering breast.

Doing her best not to whimper, Candy caught a glimpse of the huge assassin before she jumped. She’d been wrong thinking she would never recognize him again. His face would haunt her nightmares forever. Damien looked even bigger than she remembered. That thought gave her a moment’s pause. He would be unable to move beneath the cottage with the same ease as she was. If she could make it to the other side, she’d be able to camouflage herself within the dense surrounding woods.

Moving with renewed purpose, Candy crept to another cement pillar. Try as she might, she was unable to control her rapid breathing. Each exhaled puff haloed her head like smoke in the chill night air. Her teeth chattered as her body shook. She clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle the noise.

“Candy?” She heard a deep, gruff voice call, she froze with new terror. How could the man know who she was? How could he have possibly gotten her name?

Candy almost panicked. He was closer than she thought. She was doomed if she responded; one whimper or sob would be her death. Resolved, Candy refused to come to her demise under the floorboards of her own cottage. Her heart filled with strength of mind. Removing her hand from her mouth and with steely determination, she crawled to another pillar, then another, keeping the toes of her shoes from scuffing along the hard, dirt ground.

“It’s all right, Candy, you don’t need to be afraid of me. I just want to talk to you,” Damien crooned, apparently trying his best to gentle his strong commanding voice, but she wasn’t buying into that, she’d seen him commit cold-blooded murder.

The thought made her pause; she hadn’t seen him pull the trigger. A loop hole?
The only hole is the one he’ll bury me in.
Candy resisted the urge to scream at him to go away. The last pillar was in sight. Just a few more feet and she could race to safety. Hardly breathing, she ducked under the last board of the cottage, took a deep breath, and flew off into the dense foliage, racing faster than she remembered ever moving before. She heard Damien scrambling under the cottage, swearing loud obscenities, running in the direction of her noise. He was too late. Candy knew the area better than anyone.

Within a matter of seconds, she ducked a tree branch, scooted over a rock and was already safely sequestered inside a large fallen, hollowed out decayed tree, surrounded by a multitude of poison ivy. Candy was immune to the pesky little plant; she hoped the large man wouldn’t be. Even if he was in possession of a flashlight, which he seemed not to be, he would be hard-pressed to find her. The tree had lain there for years rotting, blending in. The dark baggy clothes she’d changed into before bed were an added boon to her safety. Remaining quiet, her hands pressed over her mouth attempting to hush her loud, harried breathing, Candy waited, wondering how long he would continue his search.

* * * *

“I know you’re listening, Candy,” Damien yelled, his large boots crunched beneath him while searching the area, but the foliage was too dense, there wasn’t enough light. With the slight wind, it seemed every piece of greenery was moving, as though conspiring to cover her trail to confuse him. “You need to come out and talk to me. I know you’re scared shitless. I don’t blame you. I swear I’m not going to hurt you.”

Frustrated, Damien went back to retrieve his car. Thinking if he shined his headlights in the direction she fled, he’d be able to see her. Climbing behind the wheel, Damien smashed his fist into the dashboard. He needed to take care of the woman immediately. While driving he was able to find out her personal information from her license plate from a friend. The news of Tyler Darren’s death had already hit the media with a vengeance. Damien knew the witness the police wanted for questioning so desperately was Candy. If he couldn’t track her down and silence her, Damien knew his father would. While protecting his sons, ‘The Iron Hand,’ James D. Flare, didn’t care about whose toes he stomped on. If Damien was unable to contact his brother soon, he was under no disillusions Dirk would come looking for him, or even worse, his father would come looking. Then there’d be real hell to pay.

Damien maneuvered his car close to the area where Candy disappeared. His high beams startled a chipmunk that scrambled away, chattering angrily. With bright lights boldly dancing across the water’s edge and into the dense underbrush, Damien continued his search.

* * * *

Candy followed as Damien went to retrieve his car. She crept from moss-covered rock to moss-covered rock, hiding the sounds of her sneaker-clad feet, escaping detection. There were advantages to cottaging in the mineral capital of Canada, the rocks were in abundance. As a child, she’d turned the rocks into a safe haven; below, in her child’s playful imagination the ground was the ocean full of sharks. Candy was terrified of sharks.

The minute Damien rounded the corner in his mustang, Candy raced down the dirt road in the opposite direction. Her feet pounded as heavily as her heart in her mad dash to freedom. The road twisted and turned with only moonlight for guidance.

She had an idea of where to hide. Candy would remain virtually undetectable on the old logging trails in the back-forty where the human population was almost completely nonexistent. There was no possible way the man could find her out here. This was her domain. The gnomes and wood nymphs protected her, not him. Candy slowed to a stop as the dirt road gave way to a small trail leading up a steep hill. It had been a few years since she maneuvered the incline, but she knew it too well to feel any real concern. Her breath came in great gasps as she struggled to the top. The path was well littered with large, flat slick stones and a multitude of fallen branches. Mother Nature’s obstacle course, she’d once fondly called it.

Slumping to the ground on a large rock, holding heaving sides, trying to calm gasps for much needed air, she rested. Her head fell forward. She was desperate for a cool drink. The first of many lakes wasn’t far. She’d never found the lake in the dark before, but again was unconcerned by the thought. She was running on instinct and survival; Candy couldn’t let that man kill her.

It isn’t fair.

Tyler had been about to rape her and now another man she didn’t know wanted her dead. She wouldn’t tell what happened. As far as she was concerned, Tyler was a filthy bastard, and got what he deserved. She knew if her own father were still alive he might have entertained the same idea of killing him if she came home assaulted. Lisa must have been terrified out of her mind. She was such a tiny, timid, little thing. Tyler had been huge, almost as big as this assassin.

Candy’s head shot up, she stiffened as she saw the sudden light at the bottom of the hill. She hadn’t even heard the sound of the car’s engine; she’d been so lost in thought. She froze in terror as the headlights high beams shone, making out her huddled form at the top of the high hill casting shadows. The car door opened and slammed, and Damien was racing toward her, stumbling in his haste to move over unknown terrain. Stunned, Candy paused only seconds before she was up and running.

For the love of God!

How had he found her so quickly? It didn’t make any sense. He should’ve been searching the same area for hours. What was the damned man, part bloodhound? Candy moved quickly over the rocks and fallen logs. The trail twisted and turned. She had the advantage of knowing the route and could hear the man stumbling behind her. Frightened, she realized he was gaining on her; she was no match for his longer legs and deadly determination. Candy turned sharply at a fork in the path. She dropped down behind a large rock covered over by dense moss and leaves. She huddled quietly, barely breathing, wondering if this was to be her final resting spot; she waited feeling about to come completely undone.