Chapter Six
Constance grabbed the phone. “Yes.”
“You’ve had a visitor,” the voice said.
She gripped the phone tighter. She was right. Someone was watching the house. “The other buyer.” Best to be as honest as possible. “He tracked my email address and found out where I live.
“What is his name?”
She wanted to lie, to protect Nic, but her sister’s life was on the line.
“I’m waiting,” the voice reminded her. She knew it had to be Jeremiah Dent, but there was no way she was going to let him know that she knew. The whole idea was to make him feel safe and get him the statues so he’d release Abigail.
“He said his name is Nicodemus Wilde. I told him the statue was no longer for sale.”
“You didn’t tell him about the other statue?”
This time she lied without compunction. “No. I didn’t tell him about the second statue.”
“That is very good for your sister’s continued health.”
“I want to talk to Abigail,” she demanded. “How do I know she’s even safe?” It was eating her alive that she didn’t know how her sister was faring.
“You don’t know. You have to trust me.” She wanted to reach through the phone and choke the smug man on the other end of the line.
“No sister, no statue.”
“You don’t dictate terms,” he reminded her.
Constance had had enough. “In this, I do. If you want the statues, I need to see my sister. If she’s not at the drop point, I’ll smash the crystal statue. You’ll still have the teak one to bargain for.”
“Don’t push me,” Dent warned.
“I’m not. I want my sister back and you and these cursed statues out of my life.” Her voice was flat and filled with determination.
“I’m beginning to believe you.”
“Believe it.” She pushed her point home. “I don’t give a fuck about these stupid statues.” She swore when she was stressed. It was a habit she’d worked hard to break. She blamed her grandpa. He’d always done the same. “I just want my sister back.”
“Very well. Get the statues and get in your van. I’ll call with details once you’re there.”
“What about my sister?” The line went dead. She pulled her phone away from her ear and glared at it. “You hurt my sister and I’m going to come and find you.” Dent might not be able to hear her, but that didn’t matter. It was a vow to herself.
She grabbed her phone off the table and took both to the kitchen and dropped them in her oversize purse. She slung the bag over her shoulder and went to the workroom. Even though she was alone, she looked around the space. She was beginning to feel paranoid. And maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. They could have planted cameras in the house when they took her sister. She hadn’t looked.
Constance prayed that wasn’t the case, otherwise they’d know everything that had happened between her and Nic. No, they couldn’t have seen the kiss. Surely Dent would have mentioned it otherwise. Plus, he would have overheard her conversation with Mario.
She rolled her shoulders and sighed. She was not cut out for this cloak-and-dagger stuff.
After a quick glance around the room, she opened the closet door and accessed the safe, making sure her body blocked the combination just in case. She grabbed the two statues she needed and stuffed them in the bag. The silver-and-emerald necklace beckoned her. Swearing under her breath, she draped it around her neck, hiding it under her T-shirt and sweater. At the last second, she took the other two statues and relocked the safe.
She detoured to her sister’s bedroom and stuffed the two statues only she and Abigail knew about down the legs of a pair of leather boots, settling them in the feet. She didn’t know why she felt compelled to hide them, but she followed her instincts.
The necklace was almost warm around her neck. She had no idea why she’d put it on. Only that she didn’t want anyone else to have it. And she wouldn’t put it past Dent to have his men try to break into the safe while she was gone. She was surprised they hadn’t already done so when they’d taken Abigail. They’d most likely assumed she’d have the statue with her. Dent hadn’t known she’d had another one at the time.
Constance hurried out the front door. Mrs. Karsh was standing on her front step and waved. “Hey there, Constance.”
“Hi, Mrs. Karsh.” She kept going toward the van.
“Everything okay, dear?” Crap, the last thing she wanted was for her neighbor to be worried about her. That would make her poke her nose deeper into her business. She meant well, but having Mrs. Karsh involved would only make a difficult situation worse.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just on my way to meet someone.” Which was the truth.
“That nice looking young man who just left?” She winked at Constance. “I don’t blame you for wanting to meet up with him. If I was twenty years younger—” She left the rest unsaid.
Now she knew for sure that her neighbor had seen Nic. No surprise there. Mrs. Karsh saw most of the comings and goings on the street. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” Impatience was eating at her.
“You young folks are always in a hurry.” The older lady waved.
Constance slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. No way could she sit in the driveway and wait for instructions. Mrs. Karsh wouldn’t go inside until she left.
She backed out of the driveway and waved as she drove away. When she turned the corner onto the next street, she pulled over. The phone in her bag rang. She rummaged around, managing to find it just as it rang a second time. “Yes.”
“You didn’t follow instructions.”
A chill ran down her spine. There was someone out there watching her very closely. Nic was out there, too. She only hoped he didn’t do anything stupid and get them all killed.
“I didn’t think you’d want my neighbor knowing your business.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line. “You have the statues?”
She breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t going to dwell on the fact she hadn’t followed his orders to the letter. “Yes, I have them.”
He rattled off an address. “Go there and wait.” He hung up before she could ask any questions.
Thankfully, it was nearby and took her under fifteen minutes to get there. She pulled into the lot next to an empty building. The sign out front was faded, and the garbage around the yard told her no one had been using this place for quite some time. She put the van in park after backing into a spot. She wanted to be able to make a quick getaway if she had to.
She thought about getting out and looking around. Maybe Abigail was inside. Her muscles quivered with the need to move, but she stayed where she was. Best to follow instructions when possible.
Constance did look out the window, peering around the area. A few people walked down the nearby sidewalk, but other than that, the place was fairly deserted. She wondered where Nic was. There were no other vehicles nearby. Maybe he’d decided to give up and go home. He had no real stake in this, other than wanting the statues. And no statue was worth dying for.
She put her hand on her stomach and tried to take a calming breath. Her nerves were strung tightly. She kept checking her watch. Time seemed to have come to a standstill. One minute. Three. Five. Finally, after six minutes of waiting, the phone rang.
“Yes.”
“It’s good to know you can follow instructions, Ms. Owens.”
So it had been a test. Whoever this Dent was, he was a bastard. “Can we get this over with?”
“Go inside the building on your right. The side door is open.”
Since he didn’t hang up, she kept the phone to her ear as she stepped out of the van and made her way to the building. Her bag was heavy on her shoulder.
The door creaked when she pulled it open. Like something out of a horror flick. Constance stepped out of the Vegas sunshine and into the dark space. She had to pause for several seconds to allow her eyes to adjust.
“Now what?”
“Walk straight ahead. When you reach the lighted area, unwrap the statues and put them in the middle of the floor.”
Her sneakers made a scuffing sound on the wooden planks as she walked down the narrow corridor to the light in the distance. Her heart was pounding so hard it was impossible to hear whether there was anyone around her. Her breathing was getting quicker, so she forced herself to slow down. The last thing she wanted to do was hyperventilate. That wouldn’t help her or Abigail.
The spotlights were almost blinding after the near darkness. Wanting this over and done with, Constance crouched down, set the phone on the floor, and removed the first statue from her bag. She unwrapped the teak statue with the sapphire eyes and set it on the floor.
Her senses were humming so badly it was as though every cell in her body was vibrating. It wasn’t just nerves making her jumpy. It was the statues.
She unwrapped the second one. The light glinted off the crystal, making the dragon sparkle. The large emerald eyes gleamed. Constance held it tightly. She picked up her phone with her free hand. “Where is my sister?” she asked the man she assumed was Dent.
“Put the statue down.”
She stood with it still clenched in her hand. “No. I want some kind of proof my sister is okay.” She raised the statue high above her head.
A red dot appeared in the center of her chest. She’d seen her share of crime and suspense movies and knew what it meant. There was a sniper in the room, and he was aiming for her.
“Put the statue down,” Dent repeated.
Constance stepped to the left, but the red dot followed. “No. I want to talk to my sister.” Maybe she was being crazy, but she only had Dent’s word that her sister was even still alive. And she wouldn’t believe a word out of his mouth.
Suddenly, the red dot disappeared. She breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived.
“You lied to me,” Dent accused.
She frowned. “About what?”
“You have help.”
“What are you talking about?” The arm holding the statue began to quiver, but she didn’t lower it. She’d smash it if she had to.
“Now this is an interesting development.” Dent seemed intrigued, almost pleased, which made no sense to her.
“Can we get on with this? I want to talk to my sister.” She had to get Abigail back.
“It seems our plans have changed, Ms. Owens. I’ll be in touch.” The line went dead.
“No.” The harsh whisper was pulled from her throat. “No,” she cried. She shook the phone, but there was nothing but dead air. Dent had hung up. “Don’t you hang up, you bastard,” she yelled.
Abigail. They still had Abigail. Constance’s vision clouded, and she swiped at her eyes, almost smashing herself in the face with the statue she was still holding. She sank down onto the floor. What had happened?
She heard a slight noise behind her and was back on her feet in a heartbeat. She held the crystal statue like a weapon. It wasn’t much, but it was all she had.
Nic stepped out of the shadows. “What are you doing here?” she demanded.
He kept coming toward her until he was right in front of her. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not okay. They still have my sister.”
Nic blew out a breath and raked his fingers through his hair. “I couldn’t let them hurt you.”
Suddenly, the disappearing red dot made sense. “What did you do?” Her throat was so tight her words were little more than a whisper.
“What I had to.” There was no remorse on his face. Only determination.
“What you had to?” What exactly did that mean? Had he killed the shooter? And he’d said them. How many of them had there been? Her life was out of control. She didn’t know how much more she could take. She stared down at her hands. The phone was gripped in one and the statue in the other. She wanted to open her fingers and let both smash to the floor.
“They have Abigail,” she reminded him.
“I know.” The soft, understanding tone of his voice only infuriated her.
“If you know, why did you interfere? I could have gotten my sister back.” If something happened to Abigail, she’d never forgive herself.
Nic shook his head. “I scouted the area before I came inside. She isn’t here. They had two men stationed inside and one outside.”
She believed him. Nic had no reason to lie. His gaze went from the statue in her hand to the one on the floor. He could take them if he wanted. He was bigger and stronger. There was nothing she could do to stop him.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Some of her thoughts must have been reflected in her expression. “I’ll help you get your sister back.”
“Why?” She honestly wanted to know. “You could take the statues and leave. There’s nothing I can do to stop you. I certainly can’t go to the police. And even if I did, it’s my word against yours. I have no doubt the statues will have disappeared by the time the police could question you.”
Nic was a big man, but with his hands on his hips and a scowl on his face, he looked positively enormous. The frown made him look downright scary. Then why wasn’t she afraid? Maybe she’d reached her quota of being scared out of her mind and had nothing left.
“Why? Because it’s the right thing to do. Because your sister is innocent.” He reached out and touched several strands of her hair. “Because you’re you.”
What did he mean by that?
Constance stuffed the phone and statue back into her bag and then grabbed the teak one and added it. “What do we do now?”
“We go back to your place and wait. Dent will call again.”
“He knows about you.” Feeling a little guilty, she admitted, “I told him your name. He had someone watching the house and knew you’d been to see me. I couldn’t lie when he asked me your name.”
“I know.”
…
Nic wished this situation had ended differently. He wished he’d been able to rescue Constance’s sister. He wanted to be her hero.
Which was stupid. He was nobody’s hero. All he needed to do was get those statues from her. He could take them and walk away, let her deal with the fallout with Dent.
But that would make him no different from the Knights. He’d also never be able to look at himself in the mirror ever again. His dragon might revolt if he tried. The creature was as fascinated with Constance as the human part of him was. There was something about her that drew him on a deep, emotional level, something that called to his very soul.
She looked fragile and beaten, but he knew it to be a lie. The woman had a core of steel. Most people would have faltered and crumbled in the face of such adversity.
Not Constance.
Even as he watched her, she slowly straightened her spine and squared her shoulders. “You’re right. Dent will call again. After all, I still have the statues.”
“We still have the statues,” he corrected her. “I’m in this with you.” He put his arm around her and moved her into the shadows toward the door.
She stopped and peered up at him. He knew she wouldn’t be able to see him clearly in the dim light, but he could see her. He wished she hadn’t told Dent his name, but it had only been a matter of time until the Knights discovered his identity. He’d blown any chance he might have had of staying under the radar when he’d gone to visit Constance this morning. He hadn’t known she was being watched. Not that it would have made much difference. He had to have those statues, had to keep them out of the hands of the Knights.
“You get my sister back, and the statues are yours,” she promised.
He growled and leaned down until their noses were almost touching. “I’m not doing this for the damn statues.” And it was true. As important as the statues were, they’d become secondary. The only thing that mattered was protecting Constance and her sister. His dragon rumbled his agreement inside him. Both sides of himself were in accord.
“Then why are you doing it?” He heard the confusion in her voice. It made him crazy that she didn’t already know, didn’t understand that he’d do anything for her.
This was insane. Dangerous. He should walk away from her and the statues. He could disappear and not surface for years.
“I’m doing it for you,” he told her. Then he kissed her.
…
“What happened?” Jeremiah was not a happy man. Not at all. Instead of having two of the fabled lost statues, he had three men down and nothing to show for it. No, not nothing. He still had the sister. He’d made a mistake there. Should have had the girl on site to use as a hostage. Live and learn.
He also needed to be in Las Vegas to handle things himself and had taken steps to remedy the situation. His car was already pulling in at the small airport where a private jet was standing by.
Thankfully, one of his men had taken a position away from the drop point to keep an eye on things. It had been Oscar’s idea. Dent had readily agreed. The head of his security team could be depended upon to do things right.
“The man who came to the woman’s house earlier was there. He ambushed all my men.” Oscar was no happier about this situation than Dent was.
The game had grown even more interesting with the inclusion of a new player. “Find out who this Nicodemus Wilde is.”
“Already on it, sir.”
Of course he was. Oscar wasn’t stupid. None of his men were. Which made today’s debacle even more unbelievable. His men didn’t make mistakes. “Have the bodies been taken care of.” Any of his men who had families would be compensated for their loss. Unlike many of the other Knights of the Dragon, he took care of his people. It was one of the reasons they were so loyal.
He stepped out of the car, bag in hand, and headed toward his waiting plane. The quicker he could get to Vegas, the better.
“Yes, sir.” Oscar paused. “I take full responsibility for what happened, sir.”
Oscar was in charge of all such operations, and this was the first time he’d ever failed the task at hand. And it would be the last. Dent knew he would adjust going forward to make certain it never happened again.
“We both underestimated the situation,” Dent conceded. “Let me know when you find out about Mr. Wilde. In the meantime, I think we need to remind Ms. Owens what is at stake.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get you the information you need within the hour.”
“I’m getting on a plane now. I’ll talk to you when I arrive.” Dent ended the call and hurried up the stairs. “Get us in the air,” he told the pilot.
“Yes, sir.” The pilot headed for the cockpit. “We’ve already been cleared for takeoff.”
Dent took a seat and put on his seat belt. As the plane taxied down the runway, his mind mulled over the events that had unfolded. Just who was Wilde, and why was he involving himself in this situation? He hadn’t known Ms. Owens previously, or she would have gone to him herself as a possible buyer instead of going through Mario.
Obviously, the man was more than he seemed. He’d taken down three of Dent’s mercenaries and had done so with astonishing ease.
Dent steepled his fingers together and thought some more. There was no way he could make a definite plan until he knew more about what was motivating Wilde.
A slow smile crossed his face. But he could send a message to Ms. Owens. He picked up the phone and called another of the men on his team, since Oscar was already involved in finding out about Wilde. It was time to snip off the loose end that was Mario Gonzales.