At the truck, Mark dug his keys out of his jacket pocket, and flung them at Brenner, who caught them one-handed. “You drive,” he directed.
Brenner climbed into the driver’s seat without a word.
Mark used his time to access all the road maps of the state stored in his database. Seeking the perfect out-of-the-way place. Brenner’s punishment had restored his good mood.
He was jonesing to play with his new toy.
Chapter 16
The door clicked shut. Caro leaned her forehead against it and sobbed.
The only way to get him out the door was to be an icy-hearted bitch. She’d had her fun and now she was done. Goodbye and fuck you, too.
It killed her to play that role. She was starving for more of him. Pushing him away made her so fucking angry, she wanted to scream and break things.
Such a goddamn stupid waste.
Don’t be needy. You don’t have the luxury. Grow . . . the fuck . . . up.
She forced herself to think about what happened to Tim. He’d been a tough guy by anyone’s standards: martial arts, military training, concealed weapons permit. He’d tried so hard to help her.
Mark and his thugs had tortured him to death.
She got into the tiny shower. The trickle of tepid water soon turned ice cold, but she barely noticed. She dressed mechanically. Packed fast, to be ready to blast out of there the second she got back. Ditched anything that would not fit in her roller bag.
Travel light. Leave no trace. Those were the rules of her current life. She’d broken one of them bigtime. Now she had to pay for it in blood.
A city bus got her downtown and to the coffee shop half hour earlier than the appointment. Not too smart, wandering around in the open, but she was too exhausted and pissed off to care. She didn’t even bother with the disguise. Just shoved stuff into her coat pocket. Walked around with rain misting her bare face, her real hair. Fuck it all.
Nine o’clock came and went. No Bea. The crowd in the café changed. Someone switched the music from the cheerful Vivaldi to a melancholy adagio for strings. Violins sobbed in agonizing pathos. She hated it.
Minutes ticked on. Nine twelve. Nine-nineteen. Nine twenty-eight.
At nine forty-one, she saw the slight figure huddled in the entrance wearing a drab raincoat. She was shrouded by her big hood, but Caro caught a glimpse of a pale, anxious face and lank black hair. Caro waved and the woman approached warily.
“Were you followed?” Bea demanded.
“Not as far as I could see,” Caro replied. “Thanks for coming.”
“I was across the street for a while,” Bea said. “Wasn’t sure if it was a trap.”
“It isn’t. Want some coffee? Something to eat? The cinnamon rolls look good.”
“No. I can’t seem to eat much,” Bea said. “Not since . . . you know. Luke.”
“I know,” Caro said. “Me, neither. There’s a brick wall in my stomach.”
“Yeah, exactly.” Bea slid into the chair, perching on the edge. Her nervous gaze darted around the room. “Todd keeps asking me about you,” she muttered. “I think he’s afraid I’m into drugs or that I embezzled money. I wish it was that simple.”
“Tell me,” Caro urged. “Tell me about the footage. Please.”
Bea pressed her lips together for a second. “I haven’t talked about it to anyone.”
“You mentioned video footage yesterday evening, before Todd interrupted us,” Caro said. “Tell me more about that.”
Bea rubbed her mouth and took a moment to gather her thoughts. She looked like she was struggling to concentrate. “Luke was doing security in Chicago,” she said in a low voice. “His boss had a meeting that got changed to a new hotel at the last minute. I remember Luke bitching about that over breakfast, saying it wasn’t safe. He brought a wireless camera to record the meeting, like he always did. He’d given me a fresh password that would give me access to his remote server if anything happened to him.”
She let out a bitter laugh. Caro tried to stay calm.
“I remember thinking how silly and paranoid that was,” Bea went on. “He changed the password every day, and I was supposed to give the latest one to his brother if anything happened to him. Then he disappeared, and they found his boss’s body with a bullet in his head. So I retrieved the video.”
“Did you watch it?”
“Yes.” Bea pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her nose, her gaze still darting around. She was clearly reluctant to go on. “I never believed in supernatural bullshit in my life,” she said under her breath. “Thought it was total crap. But I saw that guy say a few words and freeze Luke. As if it were a spell. He couldn’t move.”
Caro pondered that. “Could he have been drugged?”
Bea shook her head. “I know what I saw. This guy shot Luke’s boss right in front of his face. Taunted him. Some guys came in, put Luke in a box and carried him off. Luke knew every kind of martial art there is, and he couldn’t even move.”