The Wild Rose (68 page)

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED SEVENTEEN

“Drop it. Now. Or I’ll shoot her,” Billy Madden said.

He was quicker than any of them. He’d got into the house and across the room in seconds. Willa had had no time to run. He’d grabbed her hair with one hand and pressed the barrel of his pistol into her head with the other.

Seamie lowered the saber, but he did not put it down.

“Fucking drop it!” Madden yelled, yanking Willa’s head back cruelly. She cried out in pain. Seamie did as he was told. “Make one move, and she’s dead,” Madden said to Seamie. He turned to the man with him. “Bennie, get the boy,” he said.

“No!” Seamie shouted.

Willa couldn’t see what was happening, but she could hear scuffling. She heard the horrible crack of bone against bone, heard someone fall heavily to the floor, then heard Seamie groaning. Next, she heard Bennie’s footsteps going down the hallway. He tried the door, then kicked it open.

“Stop this,” she said, in a strangled voice. “Please . . .”

“Shut yer gob,” Madden growled, tightening his grip. He’d pulled Willa’s head so far back, it had become hard for her to breathe.

Bennie came back into the room. “The boy’s not there, guv,” he said.

“What?” Madden said.

“He’s not there. He’s gone. The window’s open. He must’ve climbed out.”

“Where is he?” Madden shouted at Willa. He let go of her hair and slammed her against the wall, pinning her there by her neck, squeezing so hard, Willa thought he would crush her windpipe. “Bennie, go after him!” he yelled, when Willa would not answer.

Bennie lumbered out of the door, and Willa saw that he was also carrying a pistol. Madden turned back to her. “I’ll do for you, I swear I will. And then I’ll do for him,” he said, pointing his gun at Seamie. “Where’s the boy?” He was squeezing her throat so hard now that she was gasping for air. She scrabbled at his hand. Kicked at him. “Where’s the boy?” he said again, when she finally stopped struggling. He waited for what seemed like an eternity, slowly choking the life out of her. The minutes dragged by, but Willa would not answer him. “I’m going to ask you one more time,” he said. And then he raised his pistol again, pressed the barrel into her cheek, and cocked the trigger.

“Easy, Billy, there’s no need for that,” a voice said—a voice from Willa’s nightmares. “We talked about this. There’s to be no blood. Not in the cottage and not outside of it, either. We can’t have the police suspecting foul play. It will ruin everything.”

No, it isn’t him, Willa thought. It can’t be. It’s the DTs. Or a lack of oxygen. Or maybe Albie’s right. Maybe I am mad. Maybe my mind’s finally come apart.

Madden relaxed his grip somewhat and Willa was able to breathe again. She looked to her left, toward the doorway, and saw him—a tall, blond man. He had a scar on the side of his face. She herself had put it there.

“
Namaste,
Willa Alden,” Max von Brandt said, bowing slightly. “Once again.”

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED EIGHTEEN

“I killed you,” Willa said, stunned, unable to believe what her eyes were telling her. “In Damascus.”

“Almost,” Max said. “But not quite. I’d tell you to be more thorough next time, but I’m afraid there won’t be a next time.”

Madden, still holding Willa by her throat, swung his pistol toward Max. “What are you doing out of the car? Don’t you move! Don’t move a fucking muscle, von Brandt, or I’ll shoot you where you stand!”

“Easy, Billy,” Max said again, as if he was trying to calm a wild animal. “You and Bennie are the ones with the guns, not me, right?” He slowly raised his hands, palms out, to show Madden he was carrying nothing.

“Where’s Bennie?”

“Bennie’s outside. He told me to come in after you. He’s got the boy. He’s got him tied up and in the car. He’s ready to go.”

“No,” Seamie said groggily, trying to get off the floor. “You leave him alone. . . .” Blood dripped from a gash in his lip. Willa could see the terror in his eyes. She struggled against Madden. He banged her back into the wall.

“Max, you bastard!” she screamed at him. “How can you do this? James is a child! An innocent child. And you’re delivering him to a criminal. A murderer!”

Madden hit her across the face with the butt of his pistol. To Max he said, “You know her?”

“Very well,” Max replied. He was carrying two lengths of rope.

“I say we do them both right here. Right now. And be done,” Madden said.

“No,” Max said.

As Seamie, still dazed, tried again to get up, Max put a foot in the center of his back, grabbed his hands and tied them. He then tied Willa’s.

“I’ve told you before, Billy,” he said when he’d finished, “it has to be clean and neat or else you’ll have every police officer in the country looking for the boy. Remember, Billy? Remember what I told you?”

Billy nodded. Willa chanced a glance at him. His eyes were dark and empty. This is what madness looks like, she thought. He would have killed them both, without a second’s thought or remorse, if Max had not stopped him. But why had he stopped him? she wondered. She soon found out.

“A coat on the riverbank—Captain Finnegan’s,” Max said to Billy. “A walking stick. Field glasses. Broken ice. It will look like Captain Finnegan and his son went for a winter ramble. James walked out too far on the ice. He fell through. His father tried to save him, but he could not; his injuries had left him too weak. They both drowned—”

“No!” Willa shouted, cutting Max off. “It won’t work. My brother . . . my aunt . . . they know—”

A vicious backhand from Max silenced her. Billy’s eyes flickered uncertainly between Willa and Max, but Max, unconcerned by what Willa had said, continued to talk, his voice calm and measured.

“Pay no attention to her, Billy. She’s the cleverest little liar I’ve ever met, and I’ve met quite a few. It
will
work. It will look so tragic, Billy, especially given all that Captain Finnegan has been through. His body will be found downriver. In the spring. Poor little James’s never will. It’ll be said that he was swept away by the currents, but really, he’ll be living life with his new father. His real father. And I’ll be happily back in Berlin, because I held up my end of the bargain—I helped you get him.” Max paused. His eyes sought Billy’s. “That’s the plan, right, Billy? And we must stick to it. That’s how we make sure you not only get James, but you get to keep him.”

Max moved around the cottage as he spoke. He shoved the settee back in place, righted a small end table that had gone over, and cleaned up some splintered wood that had fallen on the floor near the front door.

“Right. That’s right. All clean and neat-like. No messes and no clues,” Billy said.

“Good,” Max said. “Let’s get Finnegan outside. A bash to the head and then into the water.”

“You can’t do this. Please, Max,” Willa begged.

“What about her?” Billy said, ramming the pistol’s barrel into Willa’s head again.

Max smiled. “Don’t worry about her. She’s my problem and I’ll take care of her. In fact, this is one problem I’ll take great pleasure in resolving. Come on now, Billy, let’s go.”

He grabbed Seamie’s jacket and walking stick. After getting Seamie up off the floor, he half marched, half dragged him outside. Madden followed with Willa, closing the cottage’s door behind them.

“Let’s be quick,” Max said. “I want to get back on the road. We’ve been here too long as is,” he said.

Outside, Willa saw Madden’s car. He’d parked it up the driveway a fair bit. Probably to keep herself and Seamie from hearing it as the three of them drove in. Looking at it now, Willa knew that any ride she took in that car would be the very last ride of her life. She tried desperately to think of a way to save James, to save all of them—but there was none. Max and Madden were walking them toward the river. She and Seamie were bound. They were outnumbered. Madden had a gun and Bennie did, too. There was nothing she could do.

“I’ll take this one to the car,” Madden said. “You do for Finnegan.”

“No, Billy,” Max said. “Bring her to the water. I want her to see it. She nearly killed me. I spent a month in a hospital bed because of her. I want her to see him go in.”

Madden, squinting in the darkness at the car and frowning, hesitated. “Where’s that fucking Ben—” he started to say.

“You owe me that much, Billy,” Max said tersely. “I got you the boy. Without me, you’d never even have known about him.”

“All right, then,” Billy said. “But be quick about it. Like you said, we’ve been here too long already.”

It was over. Willa knew that now.

She had tried her best to save James, but she had failed. And now she would pay for her failure, she and Seamie both. With their lives.

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED NINETEEN

“Walk, damn you!” Madden shouted, shoving Willa ahead of him toward the river. “Where’s that bloody Bennie?”

“I told you, he’s in the car with the boy,” Max said. His grip on Seamie tightened. “Don’t do anything foolish,” he told him.

Seamie made no reply. He was looking ahead of himself, past Willa and Madden. He was looking at the river, trying to see a way out of this. The blow he’d taken had dazed him, but his head had cleared now. He could take von Brandt, if only he could get his hands untied. But even if he got Max, Madden had a gun on Willa. And Bennie, who also had a gun, was inside the car with James.

They got closer to the water. They were only about ten yards away now. Seamie strained against his bonds.

“Please,” he said. “Don’t do this. Not to her. Not to my son.”

Max said nothing. His eyes were fixed on Willa, who had started to struggle with Madden. Max’s grip on Seamie was steel-like.

“Stay still,” he said quietly. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot her.”

Willa kicked at Madden. She connected with his leg, causing him to stumble. He righted himself and hit her savagely. She staggered backward from the blow and fell to the ground.

“You bitch!” Billy shouted. “I’ll fucking kill you!” He raised his gun and pointed it at Willa.

“No!” Seamie shouted.

They all heard the shot.

Billy’s head snapped up. Seamie spun around. They both looked at Max at the same time, both saw the shiny glint in his hand, both realized that he was holding a smoking, silver pistol.