I shook my head. “No.”
“Dammit,” he swore. “Carrie, please.”
His leg buckled as we reached the middle of the floor and his foot slid on the blood that had been trailing behind him. Howard’s knife had gone deep. I bent to try to help him up and heard the stairwell door slam open.
“Go!” Gavin shoved at my hand. He looked up at me, pleading. “Please.”
A gunshot echoed and I felt the air above me move. Howard was getting closer, and the next shot might not miss. But I couldn’t just leave Gavin to die. An idea – something completely and utterly insane – popped into my head. I stuck my hand in Gavin’s pocket, ignoring his questions and look of complete surprise. I grabbed what I wanted, then turned and ran.
I hit against the wall, jarring my hands and sending a jolt of pain up my injured thumb. I turned, praying that Howard would wait until he got closer to Gavin to do anything. Gavin pushed himself backwards, but didn’t try to get up. Without him saying a word, I knew it wasn’t because he couldn’t stand, but because he was trying to draw Howard’s attention away from me, giving me time to escape.
Fuck that.
“You son of a bitch.” Howard was breathless. He may have had the pretty movie-star face, but he clearly didn’t keep up with his cardio. “How dare you! I gave you everything!” He pointed his gun at Gavin as he moved closer.
Now Gavin pushed himself to his feet, the look on his face saying that he wasn’t about to let Howard shoot him on the ground.
Every inch of me was tense as I waited. Just a little more. I heard the click as Howard prepared to fire. No more waiting. I jammed Gavin’s key into the lock, turned it, and hit the button.
With a soft whirr, the gears beneath the floor began to turn and the floor started to move. I saw surprise flash across Gavin’s face, but his reaction was brief. Howard’s was not. He let out a sound I could only describe as a squawk and nearly tripped over his own feet trying to move away from the widening gap. Gavin didn’t even hesitate. His fist hit Howard square in the jaw, sending the older man reeling backwards. The floor had opened enough that Howard fell into the water beneath with a splash. His gun landed on the floor several feet away.
I breathed a sigh of relief and ran back out to the floor. I threw my arms around Gavin and pressed my face against his bare chest. I could feel his heartbeat and concentrated on that steady sound. His arms wrapped around me, his hands moving up and down my back, palms hot through his shirt. My body started to respond to his touch. Even after all I’d been through, he could still have that effect on me.
“Help!” A gurgling cry from the pool pulled our attention from each other to Howard.
He was thrashing around in the water, going under, then sputtering as he resurfaced. “I can’t swim!”
“Too bad.” Gavin’s words were hard.
I looked up at him. I had to admit, part of me wanted to leave him there. If Gavin and I ran outside and just left Howard to drown, we could tell the cops that we’d just kept going. But it would be murder, and we were better than that.
“We need to help him.” I reluctantly stepped away from Gavin and started towards the edge of the pool. “We’re not killers.”
Gavin walked with me, though the expression on his face clearly said that he wasn’t so sure.
“Besides,” I added, “I think Howard deserves to make friends with all of the nice guys in prison who have issues with people like him.”
Gavin reached down and grabbed the back of Howard’s shirt. He lifted the other man over the edge and tossed him to the floor.
“Thank you!” Howard gasped. He staggered to his feet, a grateful expression on his face. “You won’t regret it. I’ll make sure it’s worth your while.” He started blabbering.
Apparently he hadn’t heard what I’d said about him making new friends in jail.
“I have plenty of money. I can make you each a full partner.”
I looked at Gavin and saw my own incredulity on his face. Was Howard serious? Did he think that saving his life meant we were going to let him go? That his money could pay us off?
“No hard feelings.” He held out a hand.
That was it. I took two steps forward and kicked him squarely between the legs. He dropped to his knees, mouth opening and closing, but no sound coming out. I swung my already damaged right hand and hit him as hard as I could, straight on the jaw. He fell to the floor, eyes rolling up. The dull throbbing in my hand and foot were overshadowed by the extreme satisfaction I felt with the damage I’d inflicted.
I turned towards Gavin and found him staring at me with wide eyes. “Guess I should never piss you off.”
I smiled. “That’s probably a good idea.”
Chapter 9
“You call the cops while I call the airport.”
I gave Gavin a puzzled look. “The airport?”
His expression was grim. “I’m taking a little trip to the Middle East.”
I took a step towards him and put my hand on his arm. “You have a name. You have evidence. Let the authorities handle it.”
“He killed Camille.”
The pain in Gavin’s eyes made my heart hurt. I reached up and put my hand on his cheek. “I know he did, but if you go after him, you could lose everything.” I could see the war of emotions playing across Gavin’s face. I added, “That man took one parent from your daughter. Don’t let him take another.”
He closed his eyes and slowly let out a breath. “You’re right,” he said. He reached out and pulled me to him.
I stayed there for a moment, letting myself soak in the feelings of safety and security. I wanted to just stay there, but unfortunately, Gavin needed a doctor and Howard needed the cops. I took a step back, but slid my arm around Gavin’s waist. “Let’s get you sitting down. You’re bleeding all over the place.”
I helped him over to a chair and then did all the things that you don’t usually see the heroes do in a movie. Usually, the scene just cuts from them saving the day to the cops being there and taking the bad guys into custody – or body bags, depending on the film. Now I knew that in that in-between time, the heroes had other things to do. While Gavin made the call to the cops, I picked up Howard’s gun and fished his knife out of his pocket. He was still out.
I put the gun and knife within arm’s reach of Gavin, then ran upstairs to the room and retrieved a pair of handcuffs. They may have been lined with pink fuzz, but they were good enough to cuff Howard around the base of a table. Since the table was bolted to the floor, I felt pretty safe in assuming he wouldn’t be getting away any time soon.
Once I finished all of that, I returned to attend to Gavin. He’d pressed some napkins against both of his cuts, but they were already soaking through. I went back behind the bar and found some towels that I was able to tie around his wounds. They would do until the paramedics showed up. With that done, I started to sit in the chair next to him, but he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me onto his lap. I wasn’t going to complain, though I did make sure most of my weight was on his uninjured leg. Granted, the cut was in his calf, but it was propped up and I didn’t want to put any extra stress on it. It was a bit awkward, but I didn’t mind. I leaned back against him and wrapped his arms around my waist.
“First thing tomorrow, I’m calling my contractor to come in and tear down that room.”
His words surprised me. I tilted my head back to look at him. The angle was awkward, but I didn’t want to sit up. “Why?”
Now he looked surprised. “You were assaulted in that room. Almost raped and murdered. Why would I want to keep it?”
I gave him a half-smile. “But I also have some good memories in there too.” I did shift this time, moving so that I was leaning on my side rather than back. It was easier to look at him then. And touch him. I put my hand on his chest. “Or have you forgotten?”
Gavin put his hand on the back of my neck and pulled me towards him for a kiss. When his tongue teased at my lips, I opened my mo
uth eagerly. My hand slid down his abdomen, feeling those strong muscles tighten under my touch.
He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against mine. “I remember every detail of that night and the next morning. I couldn’t believe I could feel that way again.”
A thrill went through me. “Besides,” I added. “What’s a sex club without a private room?”
His expression sobered. “That’s another thing. I think I should turn it into a regular club.”
I understood what he was thinking along those lines. Howard had used the club as a front for his sex-trafficking business. Keeping it as it was just seemed wrong somehow, but I had an idea. “There are tons of regular clubs in Manhattan. Why don’t you just tweak it a bit?” He raised an eyebrow in question. “How about a burlesque club for both men and women? A place where singles and couples could come together.”
“That’s a possibility,” he said slowly.
“Maybe I could even help you run it.” I grinned. “And maybe you should keep that room upstairs for just two very exclusive members.”
He blinked, as if my suggestion startled him.
“After all,” I teased. “What better place to introduce me to all of those pleasures you’ve told me that your world holds.”
He kissed me again, his hand sliding up my thigh and under his shirt. I’d forgotten that I wasn’t wearing anything under it. The heat of his palm as it ran over my ass reminded me. It was tempting to lose myself in the kiss, to let my body respond to his touch the way it wanted to, but a comment he’d made earlier had wormed its way back into my mind and I needed an answer. Reluctantly, I broke the kiss.
“Back in the room,” I started. He tensed. “You said you’d found information on the missing women.”
“I did.” Now he just looked confused.
“Do you remember anything about a girl named Patricia Vinarisky?” I almost didn’t want to ask. It seemed like too much to hope for, to find her. “Do you remember if she was still alive?”
Gavin thought for a moment. “There were so many names, I can’t remember if she was one of them. But the files are all in the office.” He handed me his keycard. “Go look. I’ll keep an eye on Howard.”
I took the keycard, kissed Gavin’s cheek, and ran up to the office. The files were easy enough to find. He’d left them in a stack on the desk. I shuffled through them, my anger towards Howard returning as I saw just how many lives he’d ruined. Halfway down, I found it. I opened it eagerly, hoping to find a statement that she was alive, but that information wasn’t in there. What was in the file was confirmation that Patricia had been delivered to the mansion of a rich sheik in Saudi Arabia over a year and a half ago. That was a long time, but I had to believe that she was alive. If she had half the fortitude of her father, she would have survived.
We’d be giving the files to the authorities, but I couldn’t make Mr. Vinarisky wait any longer, not when I had something. I knew that the DA’s office would be pissed if they found out I did this, but after what I’d just been through, a couple of angry lawyers just didn’t seem that scary.
I picked up the phone, then realized that I didn’t have the number. The computer was on, so it didn’t take long to do a quick search and find it. Frank answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Vinarisky? I don’t know if you remember me, but my name’s Carrie Summers.”
“You were that lawyer who called looking for my daughter.” His voice immediately hardened. “I still don’t know where she is.”
“I do.” I blurted out the words, hoping he wouldn’t hang up before he heard them.
Silence, then: “Say that again.”
“I know where your daughter is, Mr. Vinarisky.” I could hear the wail of sirens and knew I didn’t have much time. “She’s just outside of Medina in Saudi Arabia. She was sold to a local millionaire twenty months ago. I don’t know any more than that. The authorities will have this information in just a few minutes, but she’s not the only one.”
“Wait – wait, what are you talking about?”
I didn’t blame him for sounding so blindsided, but I couldn’t take the time to explain. I told him the name of the man who had bought Patricia and added, “I’m sorry I don’t have anything else, but I couldn’t not tell you.”
“Where are you getting all this from?”
I didn’t answer his question or wait for a thank you. I didn’t have the time. I hung up and picked up the stack of files. As an officer of the court – or at least an almost one – I knew that I should leave the files here for CSU to find, but I couldn’t, in all good conscience, make these women and their families wait one minute longer than necessary. I took the files downstairs, arriving at Gavin’s side just as the first officers entered.
The series of events that followed took on a surreal quality. The police took me away from Gavin so we could give our statements separately while the paramedics looked over us. Howard was quiet. They weren’t going to be getting anything from him for a while. I tried to keep my voice even and matter-of-fact as I relayed everything that had happened from the moment I’d arrived at Howard’s office, but it didn’t work. I started to shiver when I got to the part about Howard cutting off my clothes, and one of the paramedics wrapped me in a blanket. My teeth were chattering, but I kept going, finishing with getting the files from the office. I skipped the part about calling Frank.
When I was done, the paramedic who’d been examining me spoke, “We need to get her to the hospital to do a rape kit.”
“He didn’t rape me,” I said. “He just put his hands on me.” The words were bitter in my mouth. “You won’t get any evidence from a rape kit.” That’s when I remembered what Howard had said when he was leaving. “But you will get it from the cameras.”
“Cameras?”
“I forgot,” I said. “When Howard was leaving the room, he told me that there were cameras. I don’t know if they have sound, but they’ll show everything that happened.” I didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed by the thought of people watching what Howard did to me, seeing me naked.
The detective started asking questions then, but I didn’t hear the first two because that was when the paramedics were wheeling Howard out. I watched as they went by.
The cop repeated himself, “Ma’am, why were you at Mr. Weiss’s office this morning?”
I chose a half-truth. “He asked me to come by to discuss a job with his company.”
The questions kept coming and I could hear another detective doing the same thing to Gavin. I answered them all as truthfully as I could without implicating Gavin and myself in our less-than-legal activities to get the information. I was careful not to out-and-out lie, so that if the cameras did have sound, nothing I said would contradict what had really happened. I had to admit, I was impressed with how well my brain was working after what I’d just been through. Then again, it was probably just a coping mechanism, and my mind would go into shock like my body at some point in the near future.
“I’m not going to the hospital!” Gavin raised his voice enough for me to hear what he was saying.
I ignored the detective’s protest and hurried over to Gavin’s side, clutching my blanket around me.
“Sir, you really should have these stitched up.” A baby-faced paramedic was arguing with him.
“You do it,” Gavin said. “I’m not going to the hospital.”
“Gavin.” I took his hand.
“I just want to go home.”
I could see the weariness in his eyes. He wouldn’t rest in a hospital, I knew. He needed to be at home. I turned to the paramedic. “Can you stitch him up here?”
“We have this emergency stuff that’s kind of like glue, but we only use it if we have to close a wound in the field,” the medic answered reluctantly.
“Well, if you want these closed, I suggest you use it,” I said. “Because, trust me, it’s pointless to argue with him.”
“Ms. Summers,” th
e detective I’d left behind had walked over. “I do have a few more questions.”
“Of course.” I kept my tone agreeable enough even though I wanted to tell him to leave me alone so I could stay with Gavin. It would be better to get this done and over with rather than trying to delay things.
The FBI showed up before the detective was done questioning me, and I had to give my statement all over again. By the time they were finished, it was almost noon and Gavin and I had been telling our story for over two hours. I was just about to tell them that they’d kept us long enough, especially after what we’d been through, when they finally told us we could go. The FBI agent who’d been questioning me offered to have one of her agents take us to our homes, but we declined. Gavin had followed Howard here in his own car.
Gavin put his uninjured arm around my shoulders, helping me hold the blanket in place as we started towards the exit. I wasn’t cold anymore, but I was still wearing only Gavin’s shirt and nothing underneath, which didn’t make the prospect of walking past dozens of cops, Feds, gawkers, and reporters very appealing.
We managed to get to Gavin’s car without being mobbed and, once inside, I spoke, “I need to call Mimi.”
Gavin gave me a puzzled look.
“I’m late. I need to tell her that I have to run home and shower, get dressed, before I can come in.”
Gavin started to laugh, but the expression on my face must’ve told him I meant what I’d said. Concern replaced amusement. “Carrie, you’re not going to work today. Not after what just happened.”
I frowned. I had to go to work. “Mimi needs me there to help prepare her cases.” I was vaguely aware that there was a perfectly legitimate argument against what I was saying, but I wasn’t able to grasp it.
Gavin leaned across the seat and put his hand on my cheek. My eyes found his. “I’ll call Mimi and tell her what happened.”
Panic flared inside me. No, he couldn’t do that. “No, I don’t want her to know. She’ll be mad.”
Gavin brushed his lips against mine, a touch almost too brief and gentle to even be called a kiss, but it stopped me from talking. “No, she won’t. She’s going to be thankful you’re okay, and she’s going to tell you to take as much time as you need.” He gave me a half-smile. “Besides, I have a feeling Howard’s divorce case just got a whole lot easier for his wife.”