Wyoming Christmas Ransom Page 15

  “What is this about, Carson? It’s the middle of the night. Some of us are gainfully employed and have meetings in the morning.”

  Gracie wished she could be shocked he was so calm, so completely unconcerned with the fact Jesse had her tied up like a rabid animal, but all in all it was about as much as she could expect from her uncle.

  “This is about revenge, Delaney. It’s about your people stealing everything my people were ever owed. It’s about the crap hand we’ve been dealt by Delaneys since the beginning of Bent.”

  Uncle Geoff sighed heavily. “I’ll never understand why the lazy, shiftless Carson clan has convinced themselves they’re owed anything when they won’t do a hard day’s work to save their lives.”

  Jesse only smiled, and that was when Gracie knew this was very, very bad. Because she expected him to rage. To pounce. To fight. Every Carson she’d ever come into contact with who was obsessed with the feud was always ready to brawl. Usually because a Delaney had done exactly what her uncle had done—been a condescending jerk.

  But Jesse was calm. Happy. It was all so very scary and even as she worked to get her hands out of their bonds, she knew they were too tight.

  “I have proof you were involved in the crash that killed Paula Cooper.”

  Uncle Geoff scoffed. “I didn’t kill anyone.”

  Jesse laughed, an edge of bitterness and something else Gracie had a bad feeling was insanity.

  “No. Of course not. Wouldn’t want to get your hands dirty. But it just so happens I know who killed Paula, and with that knowledge, I can make sure the police think you did it.”

  Geoff’s face was expressionless, but Gracie knew enough to understand that only meant he had some deep, violent emotion he was hiding.

  It occurred to her that by witnessing this, hearing this, Jesse’s intent was not to use her as a pawn. He was going to kill her. Because if she knew he was framing Geoff, she couldn’t possibly be trusted to live.

  The panic beat so hard she could barely hear what they were saying over it, and it seemed the more she struggled against the rope holding her hands together, the tighter and more unbearable it got.

  “Don’t think for a second your precious daughter can stop that from happening,” Jesse was saying. “No one is going to let her weasel you out of this. I’m going to put you in jail just like you put me in jail.”

  “You put yourself in jail when you robbed one of my tellers. As for Laurel, unlike Carsons, Delaneys have morals and standards. Which means Laurel will seek the truth. I don’t need her to get me out of a lie, because your lie will be discovered. Honestly you think you’d learn at some point you can’t hurt me, Carson. I’m untouchable, and smarter than you.”

  Gracie winced, not at the bonds this time, but at the way her uncle was poking at this angry, vicious man while he had her in his mercy.

  “Morals and standards,” Jesse repeated, rubbing a hand over his chin. Gracie watched the other hand hoping against hope his grip on the rope loosened. “Is that why you were sneaking away to hotel rooms with my married niece?”

  Gracie waited for her uncle to deny it. To use that same calm, assured voice to say it wasn’t true. Jesse was mistaken or lying again.

  But he merely looked grim.

  “Oh my God,” Gracie whispered, staring at her uncle’s face. He didn’t look at her, nothing in his gaze changed, but she knew it had to be true. He’d slept with Paula. Jesse had been the man watching them.

  “No matter,” Jesse said happily. “What’s incredibly immoral is killing, and you’re about to kill your niece. A shame for both of you.”

  “What on earth? You have lost your mind, Carson. I’m not going to kill Grace. You can’t make me.”

  “A niece for a niece. It’s only fair. I had to end Paula’s life, you have to end this one.”

  Gracie tried not to react, but she shook harder nonetheless. Jesse had killed Paula.

  The blood had drained out of Geoff’s face. “You killed Paula. Why would you...”

  “I warned her. I warned her that if she let a Delaney touch her again she’d face the consequences. They were a little more dire than I’d planned, but she brought it upon herself. So, still your fault. Now, let’s get on with it. Kayleigh?”

  Kayleigh produced two guns from her purse and handed them to Jesse. He laughed, low and oh so pleased with himself.

  “See, the beauty of my plan is that I don’t have to make you kill your niece. I only have to kill her, and make it look like you did. Two murders? Oh, you’re going to rot for a very long time.”

  * * *

  “I SHOULD HAVE made you two go to the hospital,” Laurel whispered irritably as they finally made it to the house. Both he and Cam had encountered mild dizzy spells on the trek through the snow, causing them both to fall, but they’d gotten back up. They were both upright.

  As for Will, he was upright with a pounding headache and a roiling nausea settled in his gut, but he wasn’t about to stop. Gracie was in that house somewhere, in danger. He’d deal with his injuries once she was safe.

  “We’re fine,” Cam said shortly, and Will knew if he said it himself it would sound hollow and weak compared to Cam’s forceful military surety. So he kept his mouth shut.

  “The lights are on. Dad’s the only one home and it’s two in the morning. What on earth is this if they’ve got the lights on?”

  Cam moved toward the window, but unless marines had X-ray vision he wasn’t going to see anything. All the curtains were drawn.

  “We have to go in there,” Will said. It felt like stating the obvious, but both Cam and Laurel were clearly more predisposed to caution.

  “We have to be careful,” Laurel countered.

  Screw caution. Will knew she was a cop and used to tense, dangerous situations, but he didn’t know how she could stay calm or out here when Gracie was inside.

  “I’m going in there.” He didn’t have to listen to these people or take orders from anyone, and he wasn’t letting Gracie be at the mercy of any of those people.

  “You’re hurt and one man. If you bash in there you’re likely to get both of you killed. And possibly our father.”

  “Or he’s involved.”

  Neither Laurel nor Cam said anything to that, and he’d give them a little credit for not immediately jumping to their father’s defense.

  “We need to do this tactically. One person stays outside to assess the situation while two people move in from two different entry points,” Cam said.

  “Laurel should stay outside,” Will said firmly. When she started to protest, Will just kept talking. “You’ve called backup, and you need to apprise them of the situation. Besides, you’re bound by certain regulations. Cam and I aren’t.”

  “He has a point,” Cam said, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket. “I’ll take the garage side entry, and Will can go in the back. Laurel stays here in the front. We’ll assess the situation inside and then report immediately back. No heroics, just information gathering. As long as things aren’t dire, we’ll come back out and wait for more police.”

  “Will doesn’t have a weapon.”

  “He doesn’t need one if we’re just information gathering.”

  Of course, Will wasn’t planning on just information gathering, but they didn’t need to know that. Maybe they had the patience to wait around and assess situations, but Will couldn’t damn well breathe knowing Gracie was in danger.

  Cam handed him a key. “This will get you in the back door. You’ll be in a mud room, the door will likely be closed. On the other side of that door is the kitchen, which opens up into the living room. It appears the living room lights are the only ones on, so I wouldn’t venture past the kitchen. Just try to see who’s in the living room and listen if you can hear any conversation. All we’re doing is figuring out what’s going on. Remember, Gracie can hold her
own.”

  Of course she could. But she shouldn’t have to. So Will didn’t say anything—he just started walking around the giant house, fighting against the dizziness and nausea plaguing him. He could give in to that later. Once Gracie was safe.

  He made it to the door, cold and somehow exhausted. Everything felt about three times harder since Jesse had knocked him out, but he had to keep pushing. As carefully as he could with shaking hands and double vision, Will managed to get the key into its hole.

  Another deep breath and then he pushed inside with as much finesse as he could manage. The room was mostly dark, except a slight sliver of light that snuck in through the door. Cam had said it led to the kitchen.

  Will crept toward it and then reached out to slowly pull it open enough so he could slip through the crack. It creaked as he moved it, and in the thundering silence of his own mind it sounded supersonic. He froze.

  He froze and he waited and nothing happened. He heard no footsteps, no voices. Just his own ragged breath and his heartbeat drumming in his ears. Once he got that mildly under control, he moved through the small opening he’d managed. The door squeaked again, but he had to believe he wouldn’t be heard this time any more than he’d been heard the first.

  He crept through the kitchen toward the opening on the far side. The one that supposedly led to the living room, where the lights were on.

  The light from the living room was bright enough if anyone came into the kitchen they would definitely see him. Which had him looking around the perfectly clean, ridiculously expensive-looking kitchen for some kind of weapon. He’d prefer a gun, but a knife would have to do.

  He slid a butcher’s knife out of the knife block on the counter, then crept toward the opening again. The closer he got to the opening, the more he could hear voices.

  Low and very nearly calm. At least they sounded calm, but then Jesse laughed, low and dangerous, and Will knew there was nothing calm about what was going on.

  He edged as close as he could without risking being seen.

  “See, the beauty of my plan,” Jesse was saying, in that same casual voice that Will could only regard as wildly out of place and maybe a little psychotic, “is that I don’t have to make you kill your niece. I only have to kill her, and make it look like you did.”

  It took a moment for those words to make any sense. They still didn’t even as Will stepped forward into the opening to the living room. It didn’t need to make full sense to know that Gracie was in trouble.

  And barging in, knowing Jesse was likely armed, would only get them all killed. He had to do something without drawing attention. Something to give him some kind of advantage or just even footing. He had to get Gracie out of there.

  Holding his breath, he looked out the opening of the kitchen. Will took in the scene. Jesse lounging on a couch as Kayleigh handed him not one but two guns. Gracie’s uncle standing next to a chair looking calm and collected if a little pale.

  It took Will a few more seconds to find Gracie, sitting on the floor, hands tied behind her back while the end of the rope was held tightly in Jesse’s fist.

  There was only one light on. A giant chandelier hanging from above. He’d only need to get the light off to find some kind of advantage, or maybe spur Cam and Laurel into action. Jesse would still have a grip on Gracie, but it would be harder for him to hurt her, and Will had a straight shot to her if he didn’t get disoriented.

  He looked to the left wall, searching for a light switch. Nothing. As he turned his head to look to the other side of the wall, he had the misfortune of catching Kayleigh’s gaze.

  Her eyes widened. “Daddy,” Kayleigh said, a kind of whispery tone as if she didn’t believe what she was seeing.

  Will looked away, diving toward the right wall and a row of light switches. He slapped his hand against them, flicking them all off, hoping against hope he’d found the right switch.

  When they were plunged into darkness, he didn’t have time to sigh in relief. A gunshot went off.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Gracie screamed when the gun went off. But there was no sound after it. No moan of pain or thud of someone falling over.

  Oh God. She prayed with everything she had that the bullet missed everyone in the room.

  She didn’t have time to pray for long. Not tied up in a room with two people who wanted her dead. She jerked her hands and body as hard as she could and nearly sobbed in triumph when she’d clearly caught Jesse off guard enough for him to let the rope go.

  She rolled, trying to keep a clear picture of the room in her head. When she stopped, hoping she was at least somewhat near the front door, she realized the entire room was silent. She could occasionally hear a shuffle, an intake or outtake of breath, but no one was talking.

  Which only made her heart pound harder. The curtains were drawn, letting none of the lights outside shine in, so she couldn’t see anything. Getting to the door was possible, but if she opened the front door it would draw attention to where she was. She doubted Jesse would be afraid to shoot indiscriminately. Really her only hope was that he had some concern for his daughter, and she had to wonder about that since he’d involved her in this whole thing.

  Who had turned off the lights though? Had it been an accident? There were too many questions. Too many what-ifs.

  But Jesse hadn’t had a chance to kill her, so there was that. She reached out, feeling the floor around her and trying to get a better gauge of where she was in the room.

  “All right, who turned off the lights?” Jesse’s voice growled, and Gracie was somewhat relieved at how far away his voice sounded. She’d gotten some distance from him.

  “It was Will Cooper,” Kayleigh said, her voice shrill and maybe a little frightened. “That bastard came in through the kitchen.”

  Gracie nearly gasped with relief. Will was alive. Will was here.

  “Thought I killed him,” Jesse said, and Gracie would never get used to the conversational way he discussed killing and hurting people.

  Will. Will was here. Suddenly relief and happiness at him being alive morphed into fear. Now that was two people she cared about in danger, and she had absolutely no clue how to save any of them.

  A phone. She had to get to a phone. If it was in its base, there should be one in the far corner by the kitchen entry, and maybe if she headed that way she could find Will. Either way, if she could get a phone and dial 911... Maybe it would lead Jesse to her, the movement or the sound, but she had to try.

  She started crawling in what she hoped was the right direction and as she moved she realized she could hear shuffling getting closer and closer.

  Something brushed her hand, followed by a sharp intake of breath. “Gracie?” someone whispered. Will. It had to be Will. It definitely wasn’t her uncle, and Kayleigh and Jesse wouldn’t whisper.

  When a warm hand touched her shoulder, she was 100 percent certain it was Will. She didn’t want to answer since the room had fallen silent again, so she reached out with her other hand and put it on top of his on her shoulder. She felt his whoosh of relieved breath, but it was also too loud in the quiet room.

  “Kayleigh, get over to me and then I’m going to start shooting and hope I hit something.”

  Kayleigh said something in return, but Gracie couldn’t hear it because Will was whispering in her ear.

  “Can you get us to the front door?”

  She carefully turned her mouth to his ear, doing her best to whisper as softly as possible while Jesse and Kayleigh bickered as they tried to find each other.

  “We can’t leave my uncle.”

  “Laurel’s outside. Police on their way. Cam’s somewhere. We need to get you out and let the others handle the rest.”

  Gracie swallowed. Help was here. A lot of it. She squeezed his hand and then maneuvered herself, hopefully back toward the door. She put Will’s bad hand o
n her back, hoping he got the hint she was going to guide him to as close to the front door as she could manage.

  They moved along, and as she moved she listened to Jesse and Kayleigh practically yelling at each other at this point.

  “How can you not find me, girl? We weren’t that far apart? Don’t make me start shooting without you.”

  “I can’t see anything!” Kayleigh cried in return. “I cannot believe you’d threaten to shoot me. What kind of father are you?”

  “What kind of useless are you that you still sound far away?” Jesse demanded, a cruel, awful growl to his voice.

  Gracie picked up her pace. She didn’t doubt Jesse might snap and start shooting indiscriminately if Kayleigh didn’t reach his side soon. She reached out to crawl forward, but found wall. Not door. Wall.

  She didn’t let herself panic, though she wanted to cry in frustration. Instead, she started feeling along the wall, trying to find a hint of anything that might give her a clue as to where she was.

  Her hands brushed a hard corner. She felt around it, determining it was the windowsill. There were the curtains. But which side of the window was she on?

  She tried to count her breathing and focus on that over fear that silence had descended again. Inhale, one two three. Exhale, one two three.

  She nearly cried out when her fingertips ran from wall to another hard edge. The door frame. Oh, thank God. She felt along until her hand found the doorknob. She reached back and took Will’s hand, leading it to the doorknob, as well.

  His hand closed over hers and his mouth was at her ear again. “I’m going to open it. You’re going to go out and find Laurel.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll be behind you.”

  She swallowed, then squeezed his hand again, a nonverbal yes. She pulled away, on her hands and knees to the side of the door so Will could pull it open.

  She heard something click, and the door squeaked as it opened, a little shaft of Christmas light glow edging through. It would draw attention, but Gracie didn’t hesitate. She crawled out the opening onto the cold cement of the porch. She turned to help Will out, but the door closed instead.