Killer Love (5 page)

Bryce maneuvered around with Jade still held in his grasp. He stopped when they were in front of the large window.

“You’re right.” His hold loosened. “I stand to lose a lot.”

Jade sensed a sudden movement. She realized with surreal wonder that Bryce had sliced the knife across her neck.

Her hands flew to her throat. Blood gushed between her fingers. She sank to the floor, finally free of Bryce’s grip.

Through a blur of pain, she was vaguely aware of El Lobo lifting his gun and yelling something unintelligible--shattering glass as Bryce hurled himself through the window into the rain drenched night--the booming echo of a gunshot--and El Lobo running to the window.

The man looked back and forth between Bryce’s escape route and where she lay on the floor. Moving to her side, he tore off his shirt and pressed it against her throat, cursing under his breath.

The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. Iciness twisted deep inside her--seized her skin. Her body convulsed. She clawed at the hands that held her. Dear God, she couldn’t breathe.

In her delirium, she saw a blurred image of demonic red eyes and huge fangs.

This must be what death looks like.

The room faded in and out like the screen of a movie theatre as it switched frames. She tried to stay awake, afraid of what the blackness would bring, but her mind wouldn’t focus.

“Hold on,” a voice murmured. “Please don’t die on me, please don’t die.”

She wanted to answer but couldn’t. His words came from far away, then disappeared completely.

The world went silent as darkness swallowed her.

Chapter Three

Luke Butler was a little out of practice when it came to praying, but he prayed now. He prayed that the woman bleeding to death before his eyes would survive. She might be his only hope of capturing her husband. She might also be his only hope of finding Delia. He’d called to see what she’d found out from the informant. That was when he learned that she’d taken off, called in briefly only to be cut short before she could give her location, and hadn’t been heard from since.

He flipped his cell phone open with one hand, using his other to keep pressure on the shirt. As he punched 911 into the keypad, the storm outside intensified and the night sky sent a deluge of cold rain through the broken window.

“911 operator.” A sudden crash of thunder nearly obliterated the voice on the other end of the line.

“This is FBI Special Agent Luke Butler. I need backup and an ambulance.” He gave them the address and DiMarco’s description and told them to dispatch units to search for him. After disconnecting, he called Special Agent Wayne Jackson’s direct line, relieved when Wayne answered on the first ring.

“DiMarco got away but his wife is here with me. The sonofabitch tried to kill her.” Sticky blood stained Luke’s fingers, seeping from around the shirt and into the gray carpet.

“How’d he get away?”

Luke cursed as he was reminded of the choice he’d had to make a few moments earlier. Go after DiMarco and leave his wife to die, or stay with her and let the bastard escape, blowing his chance to find out what happened to Delia.

“I fired at him but I fuckin’ missed. I had to stay with her,” Luke replied shortly, knowing he’d made the right choice. Jade DiMarco was fighting for her life. There was no way he could have left her to die.

He hoped Delia was okay. He hoped this sick feeling in his gut had more to do with worry than with instinct.

“Is the woman going to be all right?” Wayne asked.

“Hell, I don’t know. I’m not a doctor.” She was pale and she’d lost a lot of blood. Her blonde hair was soaked with it.

“I hear sirens.” Wayne told him at the exact moment Luke heard them too. “The ambulance must be there.”

“Yeah. Its about time,” Luke replied, although it had only been a few minutes since he’d made the call.

“I’ll let you know if we catch DiMarco.”

“I’m going after him as soon as I get her into the ambulance. I still haven’t heard from Delia. I think DiMarco might have...” He couldn't finish the sentence.

“Don’t worry, man. I’m sure she’s fine.”

“She’d better be.” Luke almost choked on the words. DiMarco would pay dearly for what he’d done to the young girls he kidnapped, but Luke would personally kill the sonofabitch if he’d hurt his partner.

They ended the call as the paramedics arrived. Luke moved out of the way and let them take over, hoping with every fiber of his being that Jade DiMarco survived.

****

Luke arrived home as a sliver of daylight sliced through a purple haze of clouds. He stood in the silence without turning on a light and waited for the promise of a new day to seep through him and give him hope he would find Delia alive. The burst of optimism never came. His bones ached with weariness and frustration.

As soon as the ambulance left with Jade DiMarco, he’d gone in search of her husband but hadn’t found a trace of him. Or a trace of what happened to Delia.

She wasn’t supposed to be involved in the case any longer. Shouldn’t have gone off on her own. But, knowing her, she’d probably felt she had something to prove. After Luke helped in getting her assigned to desk duty, she’d been angry and aloof. He figured when the operation was over, he’d talk to her and convince her to forgive him. If something had happened to her and he didn’t get a chance to gain her forgiveness, he wasn’t sure how he’d handle it. But, if DiMarco had done something to her, he was certain how he’d handle him.

DiMarco had been kidnapping young runaways and selling them into prostitution. Luke had posed as a broker for a Mexican brothel and last night he was to finalize the deal. Once he received the money, DiMarco would lead him to the warehouse where the girls were held.

Now DiMarco had escaped, his wife had almost died and from what DiMarco had said, the kidnap victims had disappeared. And, to top it all off, Delia was missing.
Jesus. What next?

Right now, he would kill for a shower and a long, dreamless nap. What he really wanted was to call his daughter, Samantha, but it was too early. She was in Atlanta, an hour ahead, but it was barely six-thirty a.m. His ex-wife would flip if he rang her phone at seven-thirty on a Saturday morning.

He and his ex-wife, Jessica, had divorced five years ago when Samantha was a little over a year old. Luke had arrived home from one of many extended undercover operations to find Jessica waiting for him, suitcases packed.

She calmly explained she’d found someone else. She and his daughter were tired of the lonely nights without him. The final twist of the knife was when she told him that she knew he wouldn’t mind. He’d made it clear that the job meant more to him than they did.

Luke had been devastated but not surprised. He
had
spent too much time away from home but not because his job meant more to him than his family. It was just the opposite. He did what he did to make the world safer for them. He couldn’t make Jessica understand that, so he hadn’t even tried.

The man his ex-wife hooked up with had moved Luke’s family to Georgia not long after the divorce. The guy was gone now, others had taken his place but his daughter still lived over five hundred miles away.

He walked into the bathroom and flipped on the light. The face that looked back at him was not his own but it somehow seemed more familiar. He’d worn the disguise for so long, he’d almost forgotten what he looked like. There was no need to wear it any longer. That phase of the operation was over.

He pulled off the blond wig, removed the green contacts and opened the medicine cabinet. Covering his face in shaving cream, he used a razor to remove the mustache and beard. Then he stripped off his clothes. Turning the shower on full blast, he stepped under the hot spray. He scrubbed his body and then shampooed his hair.

He toweled himself dry as he walked into the bedroom. His gaze moved to the bed. He was tempted to crawl beneath the covers. He wanted nothing more than to slip between the cool sheets and lose himself in the oblivion of sleep.

It had been a long night. It would be an even longer day. Sleep was the last thing he had time for. Besides, how could he sleep without knowing where Delia was? And without knowing if Jade DiMarco had survived the night.

****

When Luke walked through the doors of University Hospital, the sharp smell of antiseptic stung his nostrils, making him queasy. The hospital seemed almost deserted in the early morning hours. His footsteps sounded unnaturally loud in the still corridors as he approached room four-seventeen.

He badged the officer guarding Mrs. DiMarco and entered her room.

A network of tubes snaked from the machines beside her bed into her nose and to the IV in her arm. She looked so small, so helpless. Almost childlike. Her features were relaxed in sleep but once in a while, her brow would furrow and she would make little mewling sounds as if having a bad dream. He wondered if it was a sign she’d be regaining consciousness soon. She probably wasn’t in a hurry to wake up. The reality she would face when she did wouldn’t be pleasant.

Luke turned when the door opened. A heavyset nurse with bright red hair and stern features entered the room. She was dressed in nursing whites as opposed to the colorful scrubs most of them seemed to favor these days.

“How is she?” Luke whispered.

The woman shrugged. “Too soon to tell. The doctor will be in this morning to check on her. We’ll know more then. For now, her vitals are good and she’s resting comfortably. That’s about all we can hope for at this stage of the game.”

He nodded and stepped aside to let the nurse perform her duties. She checked the IV and the monitors, then left.

Exhaustion burned his eyes as he stared down at the woman. His mind went over the events of the previous night. Was there something he could have done differently to keep her from winding up here?

His shock at finding DiMarco holding a knife to his wife’s neck had propelled him into instinct mode. His first priority had been to prevent the woman from being hurt. He had failed miserably at that, but at least she was still alive.

He watched her for a few more minutes. Obviously, she wasn’t going to wake up right away. She was in capable hands. He’d be notified as soon as she regained consciousness. No reason to hang around.

As he turned to leave, an anguished cry made him stop. Moving back to the bed, he saw tears trickling from the woman’s closed lids. She lifted a pale hand and as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he took it, closing his fingers around hers. The lines on her brow smoothed and she seemed to relax. Her cold hand warmed to his touch. Suddenly, he didn’t want to leave.

Without releasing her hand, he pulled a chair next to the bed and sat. The room was dark and quiet. A feeling of intimacy settled over him. What was it about this woman that made him want to take care of her? To ease her suffering? He was partially responsible for her being here in the first place, but he knew there was more to it than that.

Before he had time to analyze his feelings, his cell phone vibrated against his hip. Using his free hand, he took the phone off his belt clip.

“Butler.” He spoke quietly into the phone.

“We got him.” Wayne said abruptly.

“Where?”

“He sent one of his lackeys to his house, probably for some cash. The guy had ten thousand dollars on him. Snyder was on the stakeout and he tailed the dumbass right to DiMarco.”

“Good work.” Luke was sincere in his praise but he couldn’t help wishing he’d been the one to nab DiMarco. “Where is he now?”

“They’re booking him. Where are you?”

“The hospital.”

“Doing your own stakeout, huh?”

Luke brushed his thumb along the soft skin of her knuckles. “Something like that.”

“I figure by the time you meet me there, they’ll have DiMarco in interrogation. You can get first crack at him.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Luke disengaged his hand from hers and left the room. He intended to get information about Delia from DiMarco, one way or another. Even if he had to beat it out of him.

****

Jade tried to open her eyes but the bright light hurt, so she closed them again. Ironically, she wanted to escape into the blackness that had always held such fear for her. Voices penetrated her consciousness and kept her from slipping away. Why wouldn’t they just go away and let her sleep?

Reluctantly, she lifted her lids. Through a blur, she saw two men looking down at her. They were wearing almost identical suits. The only difference between them was that one was a lighter shade of gray than the other.

“She’s awake,” light gray said.

“Mrs. DiMarco.” Dark gray spoke in a calm monotone. “Can you hear me?”

She nodded. Shards of pain screeched through her throat, causing her to regret the movement. She lay still for a moment until the pain eased, then carefully turned her head. A heart monitor beeped next to her bed. An IV stood beside it, hooked to the tubes in her arms and nose. She was in a hospital room.

“Mrs. DiMarco. Do you remember what happened? Do you know where you are?”

Jade tried to speak but her mouth was so dry her lips stuck together. Her tongue felt twice its normal size. “Thirsty,” she croaked.

Light gray poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the tray next to her bed. He placed a straw in the cup and held it to her lips. She sipped gratefully. Nothing had ever tasted as delicious as the cool water sliding between her lips and down her throat. After letting her take no more than two or three sips, he pulled the glass away. She almost cried at being deprived of the soothing liquid.

“I’m sorry. You probably shouldn’t have too much right now.”

“Who are you?” Her voice was still hoarse but the words came out more clearly than before.

“We’re with the FBI,” dark gray said. “Do you remember what happened?”

Jade wrinkled her brow, trying to concentrate on a memory just at the edge of her consciousness. Then it came. She shut her eyes, feeling tears at the back of her lids. “My husband tried to kill me.”

Dark gray looked at light gray and gave a slight nod. “I’m Special Agent Miller and this is Special Agent Connor. If you feel up to it, we need to ask you a few questions.”