“If I had it, I’d give it to you!” she shouted.
He stepped toward her, so she backed away, holding Valeriya, who was trembling and trying but failing not to make any noise as she sobbed.
Then she realized he wasn’t coming toward her, he was heading for Kelsey.
Kelsey saw him and lunged, kicking out viciously. He grunted in obvious pain when she connected, but he didn’t stop.
He used the gun to crack Kelsey hard on the side of the head. Hannah heard the impact of the gun against her cousin’s skull.
Melody rushed over and tried to catch Kelsey as she fell, and Hannah thought maybe she did soften the impact slightly, but Kelsey still went down in a heap.
Hannah let out a cry of protest.
“Shut up! I didn’t shoot her, did I? Do you want me to?” Bentley demanded.
“You’re going to kill us, anyway. You’ll have to.”
“I plan to be long gone before you can sic your cop buddies on me. Now for this one.”
He reached for Valeriya, who promptly fell to the floor in a dead faint.
“Now, where is it?” he asked Hannah. He held the gun on her, the muzzle never wavering, as he bent down by Valeriya, pulled his own set of plastic cuffs and bound her wrists.
“Human life means more to me than any object, Bentley. Don’t you think I’d give you what you want if I had it?”
“Then you’d better think quickly and figure out where it is,” Bentley said. “Because in a minute I’m going to start motivating you. I’ll start by slicing your cousin’s fingers off.”
“Do you see a treasure chest anywhere?” Hannah demanded desperately. She realized that she was shaking. There was no way out of this. She should have thrown herself at him the second he released Valeriya. She would have died, but maybe Kelsey and Valeriya would have made it. Kelsey had been trained in combat skills and could have taken advantage of the distraction. She had no idea how to fight.
All she had was the instinct to survive.
“Hey,” Hagen said suddenly. “Someone’s coming.” He raced toward the back of the house.
Hope revived her spirit as if she had grown wings. Suddenly Hagen returned and rushed upstairs.
“Hang on!” he shouted over his shoulder.
“Tell me why you think I know where it is and maybe I can help you,” Hannah said desperately to Bentley.
“There was a letter. Your uncle left a letter,” he told her.
“To me?” she asked, stunned.
“I’m surprised you never found it, but I did, and I read it. He said he’d figured out that the treasure was here and where it was hidden. He wouldn’t write it down. He planned to tell you.”
“He never said a word. I know it’s not in the house. And I don’t see how it can be in the yard—everything was all dug up for the pool and the patio.”
Bentley looked stunned. “He really didn’t tell you?”
The timing couldn’t have been more perfect.
She heard a noise from the rear of the house. Bentley heard it, too. He grabbed her and spun her against his body as he trained his gun on her skull.
“Come in, Fed. Come on in!” he called.
“I’m not armed!” Logan said as he walked into the room. He saw Kelsey on the floor and, ignoring Bentley, hunkered down next to her. “She’s breathing,” he said quietly, staring at Bentley. “You’re lucky.”
“Oh, really? Or you’d kill me?” Bentley demanded.
“In a heartbeat,” Logan assured him evenly.
Bentley eased the gun away from Hannah’s head and leveled it at Logan.
“I don’t need you. I already have plenty of leverage to keep Hannah doing whatever I ask,” Bentley said softly.
Oh, God, Hannah thought. He was going to do it. He was really going to shoot Logan.
But just as that thought came to her, she heard thunder on the stairs. Bentley tried to swing the gun around. Too late.
Dallas was there.
He fired, and the bullet winged Bentley’s arm, sending him spinning. The gun flew from his hand. Hannah screamed and tried to wrench free, but he went down, dragging her with him.
And there was Kelsey’s gun, just inches from Bentley’s outstretched arm.
He reached for it, but Hannah scrambled desperately, got free and grabbed it herself. She was just a foot from him.
Dallas was racing down the stairs, and Logan was on his feet, but then Bentley pulled his knife again, ready to stab Valeriya.
Was it too late to save her?
There was something cold in Bentley’s icy-blue eyes. Something that meant he intended to go down fighting. He was big and powerful, and she gasped as he raised the knife over Valeriya.
“Drop it!” she commanded him.
He didn’t.
She squeezed the trigger firmly, just as Kelsey had taught her. The gun recoiled in her hand. She felt the force almost bending her wrist back.
And she saw the red stain appear on Bentley’s shirt.
She saw his eyes as he died. They weren’t so cold or so icy now. They held a look that she could have sworn was relief....
And then there was nothing in them. Nothing at all.