Be on the Lookout (15 page)

“You'd be hunted hard and you know that.”

The woman narrowed her eyes.

“If you want my opinion, and I should point out that the FBI wants me for my intelligence, if I was you I would run now. Before all of this gets resolved, you could be out of the state,” Kate said. “I'll make sure it's known that you let me go, so if you ever get caught, then you'll look a lot better than if you shot a defenseless woman point-blank. What do you say?”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Jonathan ducked Mr. Smith's next swing. This time he was able to use his right arm to hook the crazed man's arm in a viselike grip. Jonathan squeezed. The hold intensified until the man yelled. The sweet sound of the knife falling to the ground met Jonathan's ears. Mr. Smith wasn't as much of a fan. He used his other hand, fisting it, and delivered a blow to Jonathan's temple that utterly dazed him. He released the man and staggered to the side.

But not before kicking the fallen knife backward as hard as he could.

“You are a pain he didn't warn us about,” the man said, half bent, hand to his nose. Jonathan's vision started to fringe black as he went to the closest wall and put his hand against it to try to steady not only his balance but everything else. Jonathan blinked several times, trying to keep from passing out, until the feeling subsided. He pushed off the wall and started to run for the man again. He knew he needed to level the playing field before another player was added to the game. This man might have a knife, but he knew for a fact that his female partner had a gun.

Mr. Smith had no choice but to take Jonathan's shoulder in the chest. He staggered backward but grabbed hold of Jonathan's sleeve to keep from falling. It tugged the man down enough that he got an uninhibited view of something that made his blood run cold despite the exertion they were putting out.

The man used Jonathan's momentary distraction to his advantage. He brought his hand up and pressed hard into the gash in Jonathan's shoulder. Unlike the one in his forearm, this wound was deeper and much more painful. Jonathan once again found himself backing away, fighting a new wave of pain.

“I see you got a good look at my collection,” Mr. Smith said, nearly out of breath. He motioned to the inside of his blazer before opening both sides. Jonathan eyed them with an expanding feeling of unease. Attached inside were at least ten knives, ranging in size. “They're beautiful, aren't they?” The man leaned on the wall behind him. He was stalling. “Most people like guns, but me? Well, these are just so much more poetic, don't you think?”

Jonathan didn't pay attention to what the two knives the man pulled out looked like. He knew they would hurt no matter their decoration or size. Instead he ran back toward the elevator, then cut into the small lounge area set up in the corner. While he wished he knew exactly where the Taser was that he'd given to Kate, he spotted the only thing that might give him a small chance to defend himself. Jonathan hoisted the closed umbrella out of the concrete cylinder and brandished it like a sword, wishing again that he'd brought a gun with him to the city. Or at least had had the sense to calm down enough to grab the Taser from his bag before coming to the hotel.

Mr. Smith was nearly on him, like a bull drawn to a matador. In one hand he had a new knife turned downward, reminiscent of a bad guy in a slasher movie, while the other was held up and out, easier for quick jabs. Jonathan quickly judged the surroundings of the small lounge, the elevators to the left and the hall leading to what must have been a corporate meeting floor, and realized he was in the worst possible corner. There was no way to move around the raging, bloodied man.

So Jonathan decided to go through him.

He opened the umbrella wide and rammed it into the man's chest. Using his momentum, he carried the man backward to the far wall before he was able to slice through the material. Jonathan tried to pull the umbrella back so he could use it as a bat, but Mr. Smith's knives got too close again. One went through the fabric and moved through Jonathan's shirt and skin with ease. The umbrella fell between them. Jonathan tried to back away again, but Mr. Smith was quick. He stretched out his leg and tripped Jonathan, sending the man to fall hard without any time to catch himself.

“Like I said,” Mr. Smith said, a wild smile pulling up his bloodstained lips, “a pain in my si—”

A gunshot exploded in the hallway.

Jonathan cringed, waiting for the pain. However, it didn't come. It was Mr. Smith who seemed to have taken the bullet. He tipped over and hit the floor in a spray of blood. He'd been shot in the head.

Jonathan turned, confused, to see the dark blond-haired woman lowering her gun in the middle of the hallway.

“Jonathan!”

Farther back, turning the corner, was Kate. She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. The woman between them, however, pulled his attention back. She met his gaze with a smirk and put the gun in the back of her pants.

Jonathan stood as she walked closer and bent over the man.

“That's for slicing me open,” she growled. Some other not-so-nice words were said before Kate was at Jonathan's side.

“You're hurt,” she exclaimed, already touching his newest cut on his upper arm.

“You should see the other guy.”

The woman straightened and snorted at that. Jonathan was ready to fight her for her gun when she turned to Kate.

“Donnie has a suite on the next floor,” she said. “That's where your friend is. Use this in the elevator to get there.” The woman pulled a gold key card from her back pocket. Kate took it with a nod and looked down at the dead man on the ground. It definitely wasn't a good scene. “If it makes you feel better, even by my standards he was a very, very bad man.” As if to emphasize her dislike for him, Candice gave him one swift kick to the ribs.

Kate didn't comment. Jonathan took her hand and pulled her a few feet to the elevator.

“Don't worry,” Kate whispered as the doors shut. “She can run, but she can't hide forever.”

“I guess telling you we should go get help first wouldn't work,” Jonathan said. Kate was already holding the key card up to where she needed to swipe it through.

“Greg doesn't want Jake to know he's involved. I'm assuming Greg will use everything in his power to pin it all on Candice and her partner. Since Jake trusts Greg as much as I once did, that might be easier than it would have been otherwise. I doubt Greg is anywhere near Jake right now,” she reasoned. “Plus...” She swiped the card and slowly they began to ascend to the next floor. “I'm not leaving him behind.”

“I wouldn't ask you to,” Jonathan replied, taking her hand. As far as he could tell, she seemed okay physically. Mentally—emotionally—he'd bet Greg's betrayal would leave a wound that might never heal. But Kate was strong. She would survive this like she'd survived everything else.

* * *

T
HE
ELEVATOR
DOORS
slid open to show an entryway that was the very definition of opulent. Shiny surfaces, detailed decor and modern everything else set the tone for an obviously expensive stay. Kate wondered how a man like Donnie afforded such a place, but then stopped that thought. If Greg had offered them enough money so they didn't ask any questions—and didn't
want
to—she'd bet the man had done similar jobs beforehand, making a penthouse a much more affordable option.

Jonathan, bleeding but standing tall, kept hold of her hand. He didn't ask her why she hadn't woken him before leaving for the hotel, and, in a way, she'd bet he already knew it was to keep him safe. He moved out of the elevator and angled himself so if anyone were to jump out at them, he'd take the brunt of it. She squeezed his hand, hoping he knew how much she appreciated it.

They stepped out of the entryway and right up to a city view that probably made the penthouse as expensive as she imagined it was. Windows that were used as walls stretched to the left, running along a living space, dining and bar area, before dipping out of view into what must have been the kitchen. Off the living area was a hallway that led to the bedrooms. They looked in each massive and lavishly decorated room one by one until they had only the biggest bedroom and its bathroom left.

Kate's palms began to sweat. What if Candice had lied? What if Greg had? What if they'd killed Jake the day before and she'd come voluntarily to exchange her life for his for no reason at all?

“I can't,” Kate said, pulling back when they neared the bathroom door. There was nowhere else he could be. Jonathan caught her off guard by turning her so quickly she nearly stumbled and kissing her full on the lips. It was hard and powerful.

“You can,” he said after they broke apart. “I'm right here with you.”

And that was all she needed to hear.

Stepping forward, she opened the door and didn't hesitate walking inside. The bathroom, like its connected bedroom, was massive and beautiful. A marbled vanity, a walk-in shower that looked like it could fit at a least ten people and a Jacuzzi tub with an FBI agent inside.

“Jake!”

Kate and Jonathan rushed over to the man, whose arms, legs, hands and feet were bound by rope and his mouth covered with tape. For one wild moment Kate felt like she was back in that warehouse all those years ago. Instead of her mother, it was her best friend.

“He's breathing,” Jonathan said, cutting through the bad memory. She shook her head. She needed to focus on the here and now.

“Jake? Can you hear me?” Kate asked. She put her fingers against his pulse and sighed in relief. It wasn't strong, but it didn't seem to be too weak, either.

“I think he was knocked unconscious at some point.” Jonathan pointed to the agent's forehead. Dried blood plastered some of his fair hair against his scalp.

Kate bent over and ripped the tape off his mouth. Jonathan undid his hands and started on the arms when a voice paused both of their hands.

“Step away from him.”

Kate turned to find Greg standing in the doorway, a gun angled at the space between them.

“Greg,” Jonathan started, moving slowly out of the tub and in front of Kate, “let's talk about this.”

Greg, who had been the picture of calculated calm earlier, had noticeably changed. His demeanor was slightly rumpled, carrying through his clothes and right down to the crease between his brows. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, hindered a bit by the bandage, but didn't drop the aim of his gun, instead moving it to Kate herself.

“Let's go have a talk,” he said, voice nearly a whisper. “Now, or I'll shoot all three of you.”

Jonathan gave Kate a look that quite clearly seemed to say he would take out the man if he could, but she had already judged the distance between Greg's gun and them. He'd be able to get at least one shot off before Jonathan could make a move.

“Okay, we'll come,” Kate said, for everyone's benefit.

Greg nodded and began to back out into the bedroom. As if he was pulling on an invisible thread, Jonathan walked with matching speed. Kate followed, but before she cleared the bathroom door, she paused and looked back at her best friend. When he woke up the world would be much different. She only hoped he'd figure out what happened.

As if her intense worry could be heard, Jake's eyes flashed open. It took everything she had not to give away her relief. The other two men were out of his sight line. Kate hoped he wouldn't call out to her, to let Greg know he was conscious, so then Greg would be forced to silence him, too. However, he kept quiet and even lifted one finger to his lips to silence her.

Kate gave a quick nod and turned back to Greg. She stuck her hand in Jonathan's and they were led back to the living area.

“Backs to the window,” Greg ordered, rotating around them so Jonathan was never in range to do anything about the gun pointed at them. Kate squeezed his hand, hoping he'd somehow understand that Jake wasn't down and out for the count. “I
knew
you wouldn't be easy,” Greg said when they were in position. While Jonathan had once again positioned himself as a human shield, Kate moved so their shoulders were touching. She was going to face the man. “Within the span of, what, less than an hour, you two have managed to turn everything on its head.”

“Or maybe it was just a bad plan,” Jonathan said, anger clear. His shoulders were as straight as an arrow, his body tense.

“You have to know the authorities are on their way,” Kate pointed out. “Someone must have heard the shot downstairs.”

Greg snorted.

“I know they are,” he said, an easy smile lifting the corner of his lips. “You two may have been a pain, but you've actually helped me more than you know.” Kate raised her eyebrow, questioning. “My two scapegoats look even more guilty than they did before. One obviously used force against you,” he said, motioning to Jonathan's cuts, “and the other fled, further proving that's she's just as guilty.” Jonathan squeezed her hand several times. Kate's confusion at the pressure diminished when she saw Jake walking along the hallway behind Greg. He was limping, but not enough that it made noise. Still, Kate wanted to keep talking just in case.

“So you're going to just kill us and then what?” Kate asked, anger mounting. “Call the cops and pretend you found us and Jake? Do you think they're really going to believe it all? And, while we're at it, do you think the FBI will really let you take over my work? Surely you've thought about this objectively and seen that if I could figure out it was you behind this based on a handwritten letter, the Bureau could also piece it together.”

Kate was trying to keep her eyes off Jake as he got closer, but she had a feeling Jonathan knew exactly what was going on. He applied pressure to her hand again before letting go completely. Whatever was going to happen was about to take place.

“You may be one smart cookie, Kate,” Greg said, “but that doesn't mean I'm not, also.” He raised the gun and then the world went chaotic.

Jake tackled Greg to the side just as the gun discharged. Kate braced for the hit but was instead thrown to the side, as well. Jonathan's weight sandwiched her to the ground and covered her as the window behind them shattered. Kate closed her eyes tight and waited for the world to quiet.