Her Dying Breath (46 page)

He waited a second, making her squirm. “So you ran her off the road. Then when that didn’t work, you hired someone to shoot her.”

The woman’s red lips parted. “You think I killed her?”

So she’d heard the false report they’d issued. “You found a source from an old news story or from a friend you have in prison—”

“I don’t know anyone in prison.”

Nick slammed his fist on the table. “Stop lying. I have records proving that your brother is in jail.”

That shut her up fast. Then she began to sob. “I…was desperate. It wasn’t fair that she got the job. She came from a rich family, her daddy bought her way up, she probably slept with the director—”

Nick wanted to strangle her. “Brenda is too classy and smart to do that. She has had her own share of trouble, but then again, if you were really an investigative reporter, you’d know that.”

Her foot tapped faster. “What’s going to happen to me?”

“You’re going to jail.” He produced a picture of Darren James. “Now tell me. Why did you kill this man?”

She shook her head violently. “I didn’t. I don’t even know him.”

A rap sounded at the door, and Jake poked his head in, then pointed to the clock. “We’d better go. That silent auction has already started.”

Nick gathered the photos and file and crammed them together.

“I may have done wrong by Brenda,” Jordan said, “but I swear I didn’t kill that other man.”

Nick gave her a cutting look. “You’d better be telling the truth.” Then he stalked from the room to meet Jake.

Jordan would be going away for attempted murder. But he believed her about James. She had no motive there.

Which meant that his father or possibly the senator had ordered the hit.

Brenda tapped her finger impatiently. The picture of her father and the senator was nagging at her. She had seen the ring the senator was wearing before.

Certain she was right, she phoned Nick.

“I was just about to call you,” he said. “We just arrested Jordan Jennings. She ran you off the road and hired that guy to shoot at you.”

“Oh, my God. She tried to kill me because she wanted my job?”

“Yes,” Nick said through clenched teeth. “But we’re still not sure who murdered Darren James. That was a professional hit. Probably the Commander or—”

“The senator.”

“What makes you say that?” Nick asked.

“Because I remembered something. When I was little, at that sanitarium. A ring—it was shiny and had an emblem on it.”

“A signet ring?”

“Yes. I was looking at an old picture of my dad and the senator. It’s his ring, Nick. He was there, and he knew what was going on with the project.”

“Jake and I are on our way to the charity auction where he is now. Have you heard anything else from Seven?”

“Not a word.” Brenda ran a finger over her bandage. She hated being left out. She hated not being with him now.

“We think Seven is going after the senator.”

“Let me go with you,” Brenda said.

“No.” Nick cut her off. “Rest, Brenda. When we catch her, you’ll get your story.”

He ended the call, and she clenched the phone in frustration. She wanted the story.

But there was one thing she wanted more than that.

She wanted Nick.

Nick’s heart raced as he and Jake rushed into the country club. He’d skimmed the parking lot for Seven’s vehicle, but there were hundreds of cars filling the spaces, the event having drawn a huge crowd.

No doubt the senator’s son’s death had spiked attendance; people would probably open their pockets a little wider out of sympathy for the man’s loss and his efforts for the children’s hospital.

Of course those same people had no idea that he might have been behind the research project in Slaughter Creek. They wouldn’t feel quite so generous if they did.

Jake shoved open the door, and Nick flashed his badge at the security guard standing watch. Obviously after the senator’s son’s death, they were poised for trouble. “Where’s the senator?”

The guard hooked his thumb toward the ballroom to the right. “They’re about to start the speeches.”

Nick flashed a photo of Seven from one of the other events. “Have you seen this woman?”

The guard shook his head, and Nick gestured for Jake to cover the right side of the ballroom while he took the left. Now that they knew what Seven looked like, it would be easier to spot her.

Voices, laughter, and piano music flowed from the open doorways, guests mingling throughout the ballroom, which was set up with cash bars and food stations to warm the guests into emptying their checking accounts for the senator’s so-called cause.

In an adjoining ballroom, the items to be bid on were on display.

Jake rushed toward the doors at the far end, and Nick entered the left side, his gaze sweeping the crowded room. Dozens of young women in evening gowns, middle-aged couples dressed to the hilt, and yuppie men in designer suits crowded the floor and cash bar.

Dammit, it was going to be hard to find Seven in this mess.

An elegantly dressed woman near Mrs. Stowe’s age climbed the steps to the stage, then tapped the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re delighted you all have come.”

She prattled on about the generosity that had already brought in hundreds of thousands of dollars, then gestured toward a chart to the side, projecting estimated donations and goals.

Nick wove through the crowd, sweat trickling down his neck as he made his way to the front. He still didn’t see either the senator or Seven anywhere.

Mrs. Stowe moved from behind a column, and he darted toward her. The strains of a grief-stricken night showed in the circles beneath her eyes, and her hand trembled as she sipped her champagne.

“Mrs. Stowe,” he said. “I need to speak with your husband. Do you know where he is?”

She patted down an errant strand of hair. “No…he received a text and went to the lobby with his phone. But he should be back by now.”

A text. Seven.

She would lure him away for privacy. Yet killing him here at the charity event for the children’s hospital seemed fitting as her revenge. She intended to show the world what a bastard he was.

“Thanks.” He wove back through the crowd, shouldering his way past a group of women chatting about their garden club, then out into the hall. He glanced left and right, looking for exits and escape routes, for hidden alcoves where Seven could corner the senator.

Jake had insisted they wear mikes, so he spoke into the one on his jacket. “Seven lured the senator out of the ballroom. I’ll check the south and west exits. You take the north and east.”

“Copy that,” Jake murmured.

Nick passed a couple of women in expensive gowns, then noticed a guard at the exit at the end of the hall. The men’s room was located in between.

He strode to the door, but it was locked. Heart thumping, he stepped back and slammed his shoulder into it, using all his weight. The door didn’t budge.

He stepped farther back, then ran and hit it again, but no luck.

Knowing Seven might be strangling the senator, he couldn’t wait. “I think they might be in the bathroom,” he said into his mike. “I’m going to have to shoot the door open.”

“I’m on my way,” Jake said.

Nick aimed his weapon and fired at the lock. Two shots, and the knob twisted. He shoved the door open.

Hearing a grunt from the back, he bypassed the sinks and toiletry area, charging into the lavatory section. A muffled shout came from the far stall, where he spotted a man’s shoes. Another strangled sound as the man’s feet scrambled for footing, and then a woman’s singsong voice.

There once was a girl with no name

But her daddy’s friends liked her the same.

They could play with her mind

And treat her unkind

And if she cried they just thought her insane.

Nick braced his gun at the ready, walked slowly to the stall, and yanked it open. Seven was standing over the senator, twisting the piano wire around his neck as he gagged and choked for air.

“It’s over, Seven,” he said.

She pivoted toward him, her brown eyes staring back at him with crazed bloodlust.

“He has to pay,” she said in a childlike voice.

“He will.” Nick slowly moved toward her, his gun trained on her chest. “I promise you, everyone will know what he did.”

She squared her shoulders, the wire still coiled around her fingers, the senator’s eyes bulging in near death. Then he faded into unconsciousness.

Nick had to stop her before the man died.

Nick tightened his finger on the trigger, but his hand shook as he inched closer. Another step or two and maybe he could wrestle the knife from her. “I don’t want to use this, sis, but I will.”

An odd look flickered in her eyes as she realized what he’d said. Then she swung the knife toward him and lunged at him. “You should die, too. You and Jake left me with him, left me to be tortured.”

Nick grabbed her arm and fought with her. She was amazingly strong, but then again, the Commander had trained her. “Let go of the knife, Seven.”

She fought, kicking at him as she aimed the blade at his throat. But he caught her arm and knocked her backward, sending the knife skittering across the floor. Her fists flew at him next, rage fueling her strength as she pummeled his chest and face.

Nick gripped her in a chokehold to calm her, her back against him. “I’m sorry for what he did to you,” he murmured as she struggled.

“If you’re my brother, you should have saved me,” she screamed.

“Jake and I didn’t know about you. If we had, we would have, Seven. I swear.” He loosened his grip enough for her to breathe. “But the Commander told us you were dead. He tortured me and Jake, too. He’s a monster, and you can help us make him pay.”

Blood from the cut on her wrist trickled down, dark droplets splattering against the white marble floor, and the fight slowly drained from her.

“I never knew I had brothers,” she said. Her voice sounded weak and he realized she was losing blood, too much blood.

The senator stirred with a low moan.

Nick caught Seven before she collapsed just as Jake rushed into the room. “Get an ambulance, Jake.”

For the second time in two days, he prayed that the bleeding woman in his arms would survive.

Only there was no justice in it.

Seven would spend the rest of her days in jail or a sanitarium, just as she’d spent most of her life.

Thirty-six hours later, Nick led Seven into the interrogation room to face his father. Her wrist wound had been treated, and she’d been placed under psychiatric care and a suicide watch.

Brenda’s parents had taken her home to recuperate.

Nick wanted one last visit with their father; then he would be done with him forever. The bastard could rot in jail.

Seven was quiet as she sank into the chair across from the Commander. Jake pulled out a chair beside her, the big protective brother, while Nick remained standing, protective of Seven as well.

“We exhumed Mom’s body,” Jake said. “You killed her, didn’t you?”

The Commander’s stern face assessed them all with a calculating look that made the hair on Nick’s neck rise. “She was supposed to give me another son. A soldier. She failed.”