Monroe, Melody S. - Verdict (Siren Publishing Classic) (32 page)

BOOK: Monroe, Melody S. - Verdict (Siren Publishing Classic)
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This bastard was not going to win.

Determined to do whatever it took to get away, Susan worked to undo her bindings, but after what seemed like half an hour, she’d made no progress on freeing herself.

Instead of trying to undo the bindings, she tucked her legs under her butt and rocked to get on her knees. She was so dizzy, weary, and cold. If she could reach a door handle, she could get free. To what, she didn’t know.

Kneeling, Susan leaned against the side of the small building and swayed back and forth until she landed on her feet. With all her energy, she half stood. Splinters sliced through her skin as she slid up the side wall. While she couldn’t see her body, from the scraping on her shoulder and back, she wasn’t wearing anything. Dear God. Had she been assaulted?

Too cold to tell, she pushed her thoughts away from the atrocity and focused on finding some way to escape. Her back to the wall, she edged around the confinement. Her knees buckled and she slammed back into the hard floor. Damn it. The bastard wasn’t going to get his way. She tried again. Standing took so much effort, but what choice did she have?

Her eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness. Thin slits of light eked their way through the wooden slats, allowing her to tell where a door might be. As she reached her destination, her hand brushed against cold metal. Yes. But when she pushed down on the latch and leaned against the door, the damn thing wouldn’t budge. Locked or blocked, she couldn’t get out. She slowly sank to the floor and let the pity take over.

She shivered and sobbed. The warm tears nearly froze on her cheeks.

A creak outside caught her attention, and her muscles tensed. Was the killer coming for her? She debated beating against the wall to attract attention, but what if he was coming to see if she was dead?

She stilled and forced her breaths to slow. Her mind lost focus. When the door didn’t open, she decided the noise was only a car going by in the distance.

“Help!”

She slammed her heels against the opposite wall to make some racket. Her frozen feet had no sensation. She pounded and yelled until her throat turned hoarse.

Out of energy, she slumped against the wall. Her toes had numbed and her body no longer shivered. Each breath came out slower and slower. Susan tried to count backwards from one hundred, but got stuck at ninety-two. Her mind clouded and she closed her eyes, too tired to struggle.

Her last thought was that she’d never see Stone again.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Peter opened the front door and Stone stepped inside without a word. Snow flurries followed him in. He stomped into the living room and turned around.

His friend planted a hand on his shoulder. “You said Susan was kidnapped. What happened?”

He jerked out of Peter’s grasp. He couldn’t handle pity right now. “She just disappeared. With a ton of FBI looking on.” He detailed the event the best he could

Peter stepped back. “When was this?”

“This morning.”

A lithe, pixieish girl rushed in from the kitchen. She wiped her hands on her apron. “You must be Stone. I’ve heard a lot about you. Nice to finally see you in person.”

Peter pulled the woman to his side. “Stone, this is Maria Francisco.”

“Maria.” He wasn’t in the mood for socializing even though he was curious about Joseph Francisco’s daughter.

Peter and Maria sat on the sofa that faced the front window. “How did they get Susan with you hovering over her all the time?”

Remorse rained down on him. He paced in front of them as he relayed Susan’s phone call to her mom, and the phone call she’d made to the perpetrator. “She voluntarily went into this warehouse at eight this morning to save her brother.”

Veins bulged in Peter’s neck. “You let her go in by herself? Are you fuckin’ crazy?”

Stone held up his hands. “She wouldn’t listen to reason. God only knows I should have stopped her. Found some way to get the brother out without her jeopardizing her life.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Harrison and about five other agents came up with a plan that sounded foolproof.”

“Harrison was part of this insanity? The FBI never substitutes one hostage for another. Why’d he let her go in alone? I hope she was wired. Was she armed?”

Stone stabbed a hand over his bald head. “She’s stubborn. And no to the weapons. She had a cell phone with a GPS, but they left the phone behind.”

“I didn’t think a prosecuting attorney would be so stupid. Or careless. Didn’t she care about her life?”

Stone winced. He was the one who understood the danger but had done nothing to stop her. Her passion for her brother had swayed him. If Peter had been kidnapped, he’d have done the same thing.

“We had snipers at every window and had the place surrounded. There was no way anyone could get out of the warehouse. Every exit was covered.” His rationalization sounded lame even to him.

Peter’s lips curled. “But apparently they did. I’m sorry. You want a drink?”

“Scotch. On the rocks.” Beer wouldn’t help quell the fury that burned through him.

Peter strode over to the wet bar, made a tall drink, and handed him the glass. “Sit and start talking.”

He wanted to pace, to think, but he might drive them crazy. He reined in his panic and did as Peter asked.

Maria spoke up. “Does the FBI have any suspects?”

“Nothing solid.” He wasn’t ready to propose his number one suspect, not sure how close she was to her father.

Peter stabbed a glance at Maria then back at Stone. “Tell us everything in more detail this time. Maybe there are similarities to what happened to me.” Peter always was the straight-shooting kind, but Stone didn’t know about Peter disappearing. Right now, he didn’t have time to ask.

“Craig—that’s Susan’s brother—said two men came to his house trying to sell him insurance. They were even dressed in nice suits. When he told them he wasn’t interested, they barged in anyway and sedated him. When he came to, he was in the warehouse, tied down, blindfolded and gagged.”

Maria’s mouth gaped open, and she leaned back into the sofa, her mind obviously searching for some reasonable explanation. “I’m so sorry that happened to Susan and to her brother. With the death of her best friend, I’m sure she’s still reeling.”

“Yes, she is.” He guessed Peter hadn’t told her about the fire or being chased in the woods.

Peter waved his nearly empty glass. “You’re the goddamn FBI. There had to be tracks of some kind outside the building leading somewhere. Did you check the whole warehouse?”

“Of course. We even have Tom searching the plans for some kind of escape tunnel.”

Peter spun around and took a seat next to Maria. “Sorry. I know your team has done everything possible to find her.”

Stone stood, his legs needing to rid his body of the agitation clawing at him. He paced while the other two stared off into space. He needed suggestions, needed support. The tension in the room nearly choked him.

He stopped in front of Maria. “Did your father tell you about how Dominick died?” He held his breath, fearing she didn’t know about the circumstances of his death.

Her eyes widened briefly. She looked down at her fingers, then entwined her hand through Peter’s. “Yes, he said Dom was at a liquor store when a robber came in. My brother tried to take the guy down. The man shot and killed him before escaping.”

Jesus. “Did you believe your dad?”

She glanced at Peter before returning her gaze to Stone. “What are you trying to say? That my brother was involved in something unethical and got killed as a result?”

Stone planted his feet wide apart. “Close.” He wasn’t sure how much she needed to know, but the only way Peter wouldn’t hate him for life was if he gave her the needed background. “I’m not sure if you want to know what really happened. I was there when Dom died.”

Even Peter’s eyes widened.

Her lips thinned, but her back straightened slightly. “I am aware my brother was no saint, but I don’t know much about how he makes his money. Maybe it’s time I take my head out of the sand. Tell me what he did. Father never would discuss his business or Dom’s part in it.”

She leaned forward, her jaw clenched.

“Your brother was responsible for at least one of the deaths of those who presided over Peter’s father’s trial. I think he was directed by your dad.”

Her eyes lost their focus. Her cheeks sagged before a wistful smile appeared. “You know, when Dad was home he was a wonderful father.” She lifted her face to him. “I always knew he had a cruel streak, but killing in cold blood? I don’t believe you.”

Stone felt bad bursting someone’s bubble. It hurt him almost as much as it would hurt her. He needed to better understand her relationship with Dominick. “And when your father was not home, did you know anything about where he went, what he did?” Or was she left totally in the dark?

She bit her bottom lip. “I never wanted to know. Oh, I asked, but I might as well have tried to get the gold out of Fort Knox.” She locked her gaze with his. “Tell me straight. It’s time I learn the truth about my family. I’ve heard stories, but Dad said they were lies.”

He decided it best to leave out the part about her father bringing in women from Russia and Eastern Europe to sell into prostitution. “A man by the name of Ronnie Stenoff tried to kill me when Susan and I were hiding out in my friend’s cabin in West Virginia.” He tapped his leg. “I got stabbed, but managed to escape through an underground tunnel into the woods. Your brother caught up with us and held Susan at gunpoint. I was talking with Ronnie when Dominick took her. She screamed. When I came up behind your brother, he swung around, shot at me, missed, thank God, and I took him down.”

He expected her to scream or toss out some accusations. Instead she nodded. “He would have killed her?”

She believed him. The relief gave him much-needed energy. “Yes.”

“Then he deserved to die.” Her voice came out flat and distant.

“I agree.”

Discussing Dom’s death wouldn’t get him any closer to finding Susan. He squatted in front of Maria to get her attention. “How angry was your father when he learned Dom had died?”

She wiped a tear from her face. “I never saw him cry, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Did he call the police to find out what happened? Demand retribution for the person who killed his son?”
Say he wanted me dead?

“I don’t think so. He said he got a call late at night. I was working the late shift and didn’t find out about Dom until early the next morning. He must have come to grips with the death.”

“Or knew something bad could happen to his son at any moment and had expected the call for years.”

“Maybe.”

She dropped her face into her hands, and Peter rubbed circles on her back. When she looked up, red colored her cheeks. “When he told me about Dom, he seemed more angry than distraught. But I saw hope in his eyes, too. I can’t explain it.”

Hope? “And your sister-in-law? How did she take her husband’s death?”

“Helena?” Maria wiped her cheeks dry. “Upset, of course, but I think she was a little bit relieved, though she’d never tell me. From my perspective, Dom mentally abused her. And had since the day they got married. She did whatever he told her to do. The only time she was happy was when my brother was out of town.”

That didn’t surprise him. Killers weren’t able to live double lives very well. Someone had to pay the price. “I kind of figured your father would be out for my head.” His fists tightened.

Peter took a long drink. “Why? Because you killed his only son? The person he’d groomed to take over the business?”

“Straight-to-the-point, Peter. Yeah. Something like that.”

Peter squeezed Maria’s hand. “Sweetheart, we’ve got to get inside the Francisco compound and look for Susan.”

Relief nearly drained him. Peter understood where he was heading with his line of questioning.

She jerked her hand out of his grasp. “You think my father had something to do with kidnapping the man in the wheelchair and taking Susan?”

“Think about it,” Peter said. “Someone framed me for that juror’s death. Maybe your father knows about us.”

Her gaze shifted right, then left. “No way. I’ve been really careful. He couldn’t know.”

Peter’s lips firmed. “Actually, my brother knows.”

Her mouth dropped open. “How?”

“It’s a long story.” He turned to Stone and explained his visit to his aunt, who claimed his mom had had an affair with Joseph Francisco and spawned James.

Stone whistled. “That explains a lot about your brother.”

Maria ran a hand down Peter’s arm. “But how did he learn about us?”

Peter smiled down at her. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s had me under surveillance. In fact, I bet he might be the one who planted the evidence in my house.”

Stone remained quiet, his mind whirring. Poor Peter. The betrayal must be killing him.

Stone needed to get back to the issue of Susan. “Maria, if your dad is innocent, you shouldn’t mind us taking a quick look around the place. Not Peter, of course. Just me and a few of my men.”

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