“No!” Remington shouted.
The gun swung around to point menacingly in her face.
“I wouldn’t scream if I were you,” he growled.
His handsome face was twisted in a grotesque mask of rage. His light hair had been dyed dark and cut short in a choppy buzz cut. The beginnings of a beard sprouted on his patrician jaw. He wore a cheap pair of sweatpants and a black jacket. His eyes, an unmistakable denim blue, had been disguised by colored contact lenses. He looked wrong, sick, evil. The shine of wealth and breeding had been stripped away to reveal the sickness beneath.
Fear coiled in her chest. Her phone was across the room, next to her painting.
“Warren,” Camille said calmly. “Just take me. Leave them alone.”
His smile was more a snarl. “You think you can ask for favors from me? You think you can appeal to my generosity after you tried to ruin me?” Gone was the debonaire charm that had seduced Camille and countless voters.
There was no shake in the hand that held the weapon. His rage gave him a chilling calm. “You think you can destroy me? You think you’re worthy of being my opponent? You’re nothing,” he spat.
Camille inched closer toward William, who wasn’t stirring on the floor.
“That’s what he gets for trying to stop me. For trying to take you away. I won in the end, didn’t I?” his laughter was an unhinged nightmare.
He fired another shot into William’s leg, the silencer suppressing the noise.
“No!” Remi cried.
“Don’t worry,” he said, turning to her with dead eyes. “I’m saving a special punishment for you. As soon as I do a little clean-up.”
He raised the gun to fire again. But as he did, Camille threw herself over William. Remi lowered her shoulder and charged the monster. The shot went wide. He laughed, catching Remi by the hair. A thousand nerves shrieked with pain as he twisted and yanked. Still laughing, he hurled her to the ground and landed a well-placed kick to her hip.
“Stop!” Camille begged. But her begging only seemed to excite him.
“You forget your place, wife. You’re a possession. A shiny, pretty thing that I take out when I want to and put away when I’m done. Tonight will be the last time I put you away.”
“If you lay a hand on her, the entire world will know the allegations are true,” Remi said, huffing out pained breaths. The last thing she needed was an asthma attack in the middle of a murderous assault.
“You can’t ruin me. Neither of you can touch me. You don’t have what I have. The power. The connections. The money. I’ll destroy you both, body and soul. And when I’m done doing that, I’ll make sure no one ever speaks your names again.”
“Delusional much?” Remi wheezed, crawling to her hands and knees.
He landed another kick. This one to her midsection. Camille jumped forward. Warren backhanded her in the face with the gun, and she crumpled like paper to the floor. Remi growled and breathed through the pain.
“Brick is going to kick your ass,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I’m counting on him making the attempt. You don’t think I’d leave without thanking him for his hospitality to my wife and her friend, do you?”
“What made you such a stupid asshole anyway,” Remi asked, trying to buy time. She needed to get help. She needed to get him away from this house.
There was a flash of movement at the top of the ramp, and Remi deliberately drew Warren’s attention back to her.
Hadley, in her pajamas, hovered in the doorway.
“What are you going to do with us, Warren?” Remi demanded.
“I’m going to take you two away from here. I have a place we can be alone. Where I can extract my pound of flesh.”
“Where is that?” Remi asked. Brick would tear the island apart by dawn once he knew what had happened.
She saw William’s hand flex at his side and nearly breathed a sigh of relief.
“It’s on the mainland. I’ll borrow a boat for the occasion. Don’t worry your pretty little head about the details. Just know that tonight will be your last, and if you don’t come quietly with me, I’ll go upstairs and murder every single person in their beds.”
Hadley ducked out of the door.
Remi was going to lodge this man’s balls in his skull the first chance she got.
“I’ll go quietly,” she promised.
“I thought you might,” he said with a twisted, triumphant grin.
“I can borrow a boat. My friend Eleanora Reedbottom has one. She won’t notice if it’s gone.”
“There now. It’s not so hard to cooperate, is it? Things are so much easier when you accept your place.”
When he bent to pick up Camille’s limp form, Remi scanned the worktable for weapons. She pocketed a palette knife and prayed for the chance to use it.
“Brick is going to come after you as soon as he finds out you took us, Warren.”
Her gaze darted to the doorway. She couldn’t see Hadley but knew her brave niece was lurking just out of range.
“Your idiot boyfriend is occupied with an unfortunate fire that started in the hotel’s kitchen,” he said, tossing Camille over his shoulder like he would a sack of feed.
“Let’s go,” he said, gesturing with the gun. “You lead the way and keep your hands where I can see them.”
With everything at stake and a mad man at her back, Remi stepped out into the night.
53
Brick swiped his forearm over his brow as he stared up at the Grand Hotel. She still stood. Just as proud as ever. Maybe a little smoky, and her kitchens a lot worse for the wear. But she still looked out over Lake Huron like a beacon of welcome.
It had taken hours and all hands on deck to get the blaze under control.
Arson. That was clear. An accelerant had been used to start and spread the flames. But the arsonist had forgotten one thing. That Mackinac Island stood up for its own.
There had been a few injuries. Some smoke inhalation. But like the hotel, they’d all survived the night.
No one messed with the lady on the hill. They’d had more volunteers than they’d known what to do with. The hotel guests had been liveried off to other accommodations. Some inns, some private homes. Restaurants and cafes had sent food and beverages up the hill to keep the crews fueled.
Both ferry lines woke up their crews and used their boats to ship firefighters and equipment from the mainland.
And as the promise of dawn began to kiss the horizon, Brick took his first easy breath. It was a good time to check in at home, he decided. Sinking down into a deck chair, one of the many that some thoughtful volunteer had pulled off the hotel’s porch and arranged in the grass for the crews.
He opened his texts when his phone rang. It was his own home number.
“Uncle Brick?”
“Hadley?”
“Uncle Brick, Aunt Remi’s gone. Her friend Camille, too. A man came.”