Matt—The Callahan Brothers (Brazos Bend Book 2) (35 page)

Her prey shuddered, and Pilar laughed with delight at the sight. Then the man on the floor moved his hand, and Pilar shifted her gun in order to shoot him again.

“No!” Victoria Bradshaw jumped to her feet. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Of course you will. I have the gun. The power. The knowledge. I learned quite a lot at my husband’s side. Torture can be an art.”

The blonde closed her eyes. “You’re the woman who was with Collin.”

Rage flushed through Pilar’s veins at the memory of that awful day. Needing to vent, she turned her gun toward the plate glass window that overlooked the lake and pulled the trigger three times. Glass shattered and the dog’s barks intensified. When Pilar turned to shoot the dog, the Bradshaw woman reached out and smacked it on the rump. It ran away.

“I am Pilar de Romo, and Collin Marlow loved me. He did business with Alejandro and he saw how terribly my husband treated me. He was going to save me, to hide me on that island until it was safe for me to leave. We were going to live in Paris.”

The bitch briefly closed her eyes. “I’m sorry Collin is dead, but it’s not my fault.”

“You took the pictures! He believed me and I was safe and then he saw the pictures!” Pilar’s hand trembled. Her fingers itched to pull the trigger, to empty the magazine into the bitch’s face. To destroy her.

“No,” she murmured, arguing with herself. “That’s too quick. After all the trouble I’ve gone to ... she has to suffer. Suffer. Until the pain makes her ... laugh.”

Pilar eyed the key rack, noted the logo floats on two sets of keys. Yes. How perfect. How delicious. She took a step closer to the pair. “It’s time for us to go.” She opened the screen door and motioned for her to precede her. “This setting presents the perfect opportunity to bring this matter to an appropriate end.”

***

Torie grabbed hold of the swim ladder and climbed from the water. She couldn’t remember the last time she was this chilled, both inside and out. Swimming hard for twenty minutes had burned away the hot rush of temper, and as she reached for the fluffy striped beach towel, she felt raw, weary, and empty. Too empty to think.

As she dried herself and slipped her feet into her flip flops, she became aware of her surroundings. Gigi’s tags tinkled as she ran up and down the walkway between the dock and land. Her little tail wagged and she was whimpering. “What’s the matter, girl?”

Up at the house, Torie heard Paco throwing a fit. “I wonder what that’s all about.”

In that instant, a cold chill that had nothing to do with water or wind raced over her skin. Helen. Something was wrong with Helen. Her twin was in danger.

Torie grabbed her gun from her purse and ran for the house.
Please God, Please God, Please God,
she prayed
.
The fifty yards felt like five hundred. Her palms were sweaty, her fingers like ice. Her heart all but pounded itself out of her chest.

She heard the sound of shattering glass.

What should she do? Where was Mark? Matt’s guards? Paco was on the back porch barking his head off. Maybe she should go in through the front.

What would she find when she arrived? Who would she find?
Please, God, let my sister and Matt’s brother, let everyone, be okay.

She reached the house, flattened herself against the stone wall, and tried to catch her breath as she listened hard. Nothing. Cold sweat washed over her in waves.
Helen? Where are you?

Torie eased around toward the front of the house, stepping quietly onto the front porch and nudging up to the great-room windows. She peered inside. Nothing. On the other side of the house, Paco’s barking grew more intense. At her own feet, Gigi arrived and began to whimper. “Shush,” Torie whispered.

Yap ... yap ... yap.

Torie picked up the dog, dashed past the window, and made her way to the front door. It was locked.

Seconds ticked by and her tension escalated. She eased around the other side of the house and peeked carefully into the dining room, then through to the kitchen. She could see someone’s legs. A man. Lying on the floor. Mark? Probably.

Torie’s stomach twisted in a knot.

Instincts urged her to hurry. She took two deep breaths, then moved swiftly and as quietly as possible toward the back of the house. Paco stood just outside the kitchen door.

He moved backward as the door began to open.

***

Matt threw the cell phone down on the seat beside him. Why wasn’t anyone answering? Not the guards, not Mark. Not Torie. No one at the house. Hell, he couldn’t even get Les to answer the phone. That could be because he was just too busy at the tasting room. Matt hoped that was the reason, anyway.

He had the cops on the way, an ambulance, too. He hoped it was a false alarm, but his gut told him otherwise.

His speed topped ninety as he flew down the highway, but he slowed as he approached the turn onto his land. This time, rather than a sense of peace and homecoming, he felt utter panic.

He’d screwed up. He’d missed something, his security hadn’t held up, and his brother might have paid the price. Hell, it was John all over again. And Torie. He couldn’t bear to think about Torie. She had to be all right.

He didn’t even slow down as he whipped past the winery, though he did take a quick glance around looking for trouble. Nothing obvious, but he didn’t see the security guys. He’d figured on that.

As he started on the last half mile, he faced a choice. Did he go in fast and openly or did he take time to do it so that he wouldn’t be seen? Training told him to take his time, but his instincts were screaming that he had no time to waste. Matt decided to trust his instincts.

The truck topped the hill and roared down toward the house. Again, he looked for signs of trouble. Again, he didn’t see a damned thing.

That scared him as much as anything.

The tires skidded on the gravel drive as he braked to a halt. He threw the truck in park and leaped out, drawing his gun and leaving the engine running. “Torie!” he yelled, running toward the house.

“Here! In the kitchen! Call 911!”

Relief hit him so hard he almost stumbled. Finding the front door locked, he grabbed the hidden key. Seconds later he barged into the kitchen and icy terror brought him to his knees. “Mark.”

Blood puddled on the slate-colored tile where Torie knelt beside his still brother. It stained her skin and the white dish towel she pressed against his shoulder with one hand and the side of his head with the other. “I was afraid he’d bleed to death. Tell me you called an ambulance?”

“They’re right behind me.”

“Good. He made a sound once and his pulse is strong.”

Matt moved her hands, checked the wounds. Head was a graze, thank God. Bloody, but not serious.

Chest wound was harder to guess. Looked high, but it could have nicked a lung.

Torie rolled to her feet. “Did you see which way they went? She has Helen.”

Matt looked up from his brother to see her reach for that damned pink gun. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going after them. She has my sister. The redhead who was at the tasting room earlier is the stalker and she has my sister and she thinks Helen is me. You didn’t pass her on the way in? She took keys off the key ring by the back door. She must intend to take the car in your garage. Unless ... did you leave the keys in your truck?”

Hell, he’d left it running. “You’re not going anywhere, Victoria. I’ll—” Matt broke off abruptly as a familiar sound reached his ears. He glanced toward the key rack. Sure enough, the Formula’s keys were missing. “That’s one of my boats.”

“A boat? She’s taking a boat? Okay, then.” Torie crossed to the key rack and snagged the set with the floating Fountain logo. “These go to the other one, right?”

“Torie, wait,” Matt insisted as she headed out the door. “The ambulance should be here any minute. I’ll go—”

“No. There’s no time. Take care of your brother and I’ll save my sister.” She walked out of the door, saying, “It’s what I do.”

But who’s going to take care of you? I can’t let her go alone. I can’t.

Then he looked down at his bleeding brother.
 
Another impossible choice. One eerily similar to the one he’d faced in Sarajevo.

John lies sprawled on a deserted city street while Matt applies pressure to his wounds, trying desperately to stanch the bleeding. He’s called for backup; they’re on the way. But Cheryl, Matt’s MI6 partner on this assignment, is walking into danger. Natalia will kill her without hesitation, just like she tried to kill Matt and succeeded in shooting John once she realized Matt wasn’t who he’d claimed to be.

Ćurković’s daughter had let the wrong man get too close to the organization.

Torn between love and duty, Matt had chosen duty. He’d left his brother to be saved by someone else. He’d rescued his partner, but he never saw his brother again. By the time backup arrived, John had been taken.

Matt had suffered over his choice every day since.

And now here he was again.

Except today’s choice involved one significant difference, Matt realized. This time, he didn’t choose between duty and love. This time he had to choose between love for a brother and his love for Victoria Bradshaw.

“God, help me.”

***

Torie was a third of the way between the house and the boat dock when the Formula shot out into the cove, the redhead behind the wheel. Helen sat in the stern, her hands tied to a metal grab bar. Realizing the woman couldn’t see her, Torie waved her arm in a wide arc, hoping to catch her sister’s attention and reassure her that help was on the way.

Such as it was.

“I’ll do my best, sis,” she said as she ran onto the walkway and down to the boathouse. She grabbed hold of the radar arch to steady herself as she stepped onto the boat. Moving quickly and efficiently, she slid the key into the ignition and started the engines, allowing them time to warm up as she untied the six lines from the cleats that secured the boat in its berth.

Grateful that she’d had experience driving a boat, she put the Fountain into reverse and, looking over her shoulder, began to ease out of the boathouse. With a boat this big, you had to be careful with maneuvers such as this. The loud engines drowned out all other sound and she didn’t take her stare off the back of the boat.

So when the hand reached out to take the wheel, she screamed.

“I’ve got it,” Matt shouted. “Move over.”

“What are you doing here!” she yelled back. “What about Mark?”

Matt leaned over and spoke in her ear. “He’d tell me to be here. Both my brothers would.”

Her eyes widened with alarm. “Is something wrong with Luke, too?”

Matt waited until the boat had cleared the boathouse and it was easier to hear. Then, the whine of an ambulance sounded like music to his ears. “Luke’s fine. What’s she up to? Why take a boat?”

“I don’t know.” Torie’s gaze scanned the cove for signs of the other boat, but it was gone. “I heard her say the setting presented the perfect opportunity to bring this to an appropriate end, but I don’t know what that means. I don’t know who that woman is! She was up at the tasting room earlier, but other than a vague sense that I’ve seen her before, I don’t know who she is!”

“Pilar de Romo. She’s the woman in the photos with Collin Marlow.”

Torie sank down into a seat in shock. “She’s the stalker? I never considered her.”

“Me, either.” Matt’s expression grew even more grim. “Luke found out she escaped from a nuthouse. I figure it’s some sort of revenge. She could do anything.”

“That’s it.” Torie reached out and clutched Matt’s sleeve as icy fingers of terror gripped her heart. “That’s what she meant. ‘‘An appropriate end.’ She’s going to shoot her and dump her overboard, just like that man did to Collin.”

“Hell,” Matt muttered.

“I should have shot her. I had a chance, before, up at the house. There was a second that I had a shot, but I didn’t take it. I froze.” She closed her eyes in despair.

“Hold on.” Matt pushed the throttle down and the boat surged forward. Cool wind whipped past Torie’s face and tears ran horizontally from the corners of her eyes. She was freezing, both inside and out.

They pulled out of the cove and into the main body of the lake. She could see the first boat ahead a hundred yards or more. They were too far away to see Helen with any clarity, although she did remain in the boat. Sitting up. The woman hadn’t shot her yet.

Matt set his speed at forty miles an hour, keeping constant distance between the two craft.

“What are we going to do?” Torie asked. “We have to save Helen, Matt. We can’t let that crazy woman hurt her.”

“I’m thinking.”

“Don’t you need to go faster? Can you catch her in this boat?”

“Yeah. The other one looks faster, but this has high-performance engines. I’m not sure that’s the best way to handle this, though. Don’t want to spook her.”

“Can you call someone and set up a boat roadblock or something?”

He shook his head. “The lake follows a river channel. It widens and splits in three directions up ahead a little ways. We don’t know which way she’ll go. Couldn’t get something like that put together in time. There’s not enough lake patrol boats available and besides, they don’t have a boat that’ll keep up with mine.”