Keep Me Safe (28 page)

“Caleb!” she screamed. “Caleb, stop! Oh God, what are you
doing
?”

Two more cuts in quick succession. Her eyes went glassy with shock, her speech slurred from that same shock and blood loss. She tried to fight back, but she was no match for Caleb's strength. Oddly she would have had a chance against Charles. Caleb was much bigger and stronger. Experiencing a kill vicariously through another's eyes was deliciously addictive. It was something that now that he'd done once he'd want to do it again and again.

Tears streamed down Ramie's face. Her voice was nearly gone from the force of her screams. The next came out in an ugly hoarse rasp when he made another cut, this time on her hip.

“Please don't do this,” Ramie begged, her chest heaving from her pants of pain. “I thought you loved me,” she whispered. “You promised . . .” Her voice trailed off and her bowed body sagged back onto the mattress. She finally passed out. She'd earned a measure of respect from Charles. Not many people would have been able to stay conscious for as long as she had under such horrific conditions.

Charles frowned. Caleb's eyes flickered. Turmoil shone in features creased with pain. Charles knew he had to get Ramie out now before Caleb broke free from his hold on him, but he felt like a pouty child deprived of his favorite toy.

Caleb's movements were jerky, spasmodic almost as he leaned down and scooped Ramie up into his arms. Smiling, Charles followed along, continuing to film. The blood dripping from Ramie onto the floor was a nice touch. It added authenticity, but Charles was careful not to step in it.

Charles was sure to film Caleb stashing her in the backseat of his SUV. After the police saw this video, there would be no doubt as to who Ramie St. Claire's murderer was. They wouldn't even need the body to gain a conviction!

THIRTY-FOUR

CALEB'S
eyes opened and immediately slammed shut. What little he'd seen of the room had been like a crazy Tilt-A-Whirl, spinning so rapidly it had made him instantly dizzy. His temples throbbed. Pain speared his skull and radiated down to the base of his neck. His mouth was dry, and he licked his lips, trying to moisten them.

His nostrils flared, the sickening sweet smell of . . . ​blood? . . . ​overwhelmed his senses. It was unmistakably blood.

His stomach balled into a knot and he sat up in bed, eyes flying open to the unthinkable.

Blood bathed the sheets, the mattress, the pillows. Oh God. It bathed
him
, covering his hands, arms, chest and legs.

He rolled off the bed, landing on the floor as his stomach heaved and he gagged at the overwhelming stench.

“Ramie!” he yelled hoarsely. “Ramie!” Oh God, where was she? What had happened? Why couldn't he remember? Surely he would have remembered her bleeding this much. Why wasn't she in bed?

He pushed himself off the floor and stumbled into the hallway, only to trip over the dead body of one of his security specialists.

“Oh Jesus,” he said with growing horror. This was a nightmare. It had to be. It was the only reasonable explanation. None of this was
real
.

“Ramie!” he yelled as he ran down the hall, throwing open every single door in an effort to locate her. Where the hell was everyone?

His blood ran cold when he saw the back door was ajar. He sprinted over, shoving the door open wider, and his gaze fell over the second dead body.

A chill slithered up his spine, a sense of foreboding so strong within him that it paralyzed him. He stared numbly at the dead man. A hole was punched through his forehead. His eyes were glassy with death and the back of his head had been blown off by the bullet.

He leaned over and vomited on the patio. His stomach clenched viciously, curling into knots, forcing more of the contents of his stomach out onto the ground.

He had to find Ramie. He had to call someone for help. He couldn't remember what had happened here. Shouldn't he know what occurred? Ramie couldn't have disappeared and two men killed without him knowing, could they?

He stumbled back into the nightmare of the bedroom and stared at the blood-covered bed. Then he reached for the phone, his fingers shaking when he punched in Beau's number. Tori, Quinn and Beau had to be all right. Maybe Beau would know where Ramie was and what awful thing had struck here.

“Caleb, where the hell are you?” Beau barked into the phone after the first ring.

“At the safe house,” Caleb said faintly. “Something terrible has happened, Beau. Is Ramie with you?”

“Don't move,” Beau said curtly. “Don't touch
anything
. You understand me? We'll be there in three minutes.”

Caleb frowned at the disconnected phone in confusion. He was missing something vitally important, but what? Why couldn't he remember anything of the night before?

Mindful of his brother's command not to touch anything, Caleb walked to the front door of the house, stepping outside into the bright wash of sun. He squinted and then shielded his face from the sun with one hand. And then he stared transfixed at the dried blood that covered his outstretched hand.

Two vehicles screeched to a stop in front of the house. Beau was out and running from one while Dane and Eliza jumped from the other and bore down on him, their expressions grim and . . . ​furious.

“Get down!” Dane barked, drawing his weapon and pointing it at Caleb. “On the ground!”

Caleb stared at Dane in bewilderment. Was he serious? Had the whole world gone mad?

“Jesus, Caleb,” Beau said, his face pale as he stared back at Caleb. “What have you
done
?”

“Make sure he isn't armed,” Eliza said from a distance, her own weapon drawn and trained on Caleb.

He was starting to get pissed.

“Someone want to tell me what the
fuck
is going on?” Caleb erupted. “Where's Ramie? And why the hell are you pointing your goddamn guns at me?
Where is she?”

“That's what we want to ask you, Caleb,” Dane said in an even tone.

Caleb narrowed his eyes impatiently. “Ask me what?”

“Where Ramie is,” Eliza said. “Tell us what you did with her, Caleb. Tell us now before the police get here and we can't help you anymore.”

He shook his head in confusion. Then he stared down at his hands, as if for the first time realizing that he was covered in blood. He began to shake convulsively, his vision blurring with tears.

“I don't know,” he said, his voice cracking. “God, I don't know. What have I done?”

Eliza dipped her head at Dane, who quickly closed in on Caleb while Eliza hung back, her gun trained.

“On your knees,” Dane commanded.

Numbly Caleb slid to his knees.

“Hands behind your head.”

Slowly Caleb laced his fingers together at the back of his head. He flinched when the cool metal handcuffs surrounded his wrists, clicking into place. He lifted his gaze to his brother, who stood there staring at him, tears in his eyes.

Beau looked . . . ​devastated.

“Let's go,” Dane said, pushing Caleb to his feet. “Get in the car.”

Eliza opened the backseat door and Dane unceremoniously stuffed Caleb inside while Beau got back into the vehicle he'd been driving. Dane and Eliza slid into the front seat of the vehicle he was riding in and slammed the doors.

Dane peeled away, causing Caleb to bump his head on the window before righting himself.

“Damn it, Caleb. You don't have anything to say for yourself?” Eliza said in disgust.

“What am I supposed to say?” Caleb asked wearily, some of the shock finally wearing off. Anger was quickly replacing his bewilderment but at the same time, dread gripped him by the balls, squeezing the very life out of him. “I wake up to find Ramie gone, blood covering the bed where she slept. Two men supposed to be guarding the house are dead. I can only assume the third one is as well. It seems to me that you need to be the ones talking and fast,” he snapped.

Eliza turned sharply in her seat, her brows furrowed as she stared hard at Caleb.

“What do you last remember doing before you woke up?” she asked.

Caleb was silent a moment as he thought back through the night before.

“Ramie and I went to bed early. We were both tired. And then I woke up a few minutes ago and Ramie was gone and blood was everywhere.”

“Jesus,” Eliza muttered. “Could he really not know?”

“Maybe he blocked it out,” Dane said, his jaw ticking with fury. “I know I sure as hell would if I'd done that to an innocent woman.”

A prickle of unease skated down Caleb's spine. An elusive memory taunted him, so close and yet out of reach. Why did his head hurt so goddamn bad? Had he been drugged?

“Blocked what out?” Caleb demanded. “Goddamn it, talk to me and stop speaking in riddles. This has gone on long enough!”

Dane slammed on the brakes and turned in his seat to level his furious stare at Caleb.

“Tell me what happened last night, Caleb. Tell me
why
you did it.”

Caleb stared down at his hands, red with dried blood, the smell sickening. He just wanted it off. He rubbed his palms up and down his pants leg but the blood remained. Was this what it meant to have blood on your hands literally?

“Dane,
where is Ramie
?” Caleb asked, fear curling through his stomach and clenching his insides.

“Not here,” Eliza said in a low voice. “We don't need him going bat-shit crazy and bailing out.”

Dane punched the accelerator and roared down the winding road on the back end of the subdivision toward a more rural area of the county. Away from the city.

It just didn't make sense. Why had Caleb cracked? How could Dane have so grossly misjudged the man he worked for? The man he gave his absolute loyalty to. Worse, why wasn't Dane driving him straight to the police station so he could be taken into custody? Sorrow was etched in Eliza's eyes as she stared sightlessly through the windshield.

Dane's cell phone rang, and he glanced down to see Detective Ramirez's number pop up on the screen.

“Shit,” Dane swore. “We're busted. They must have gotten to the house already.”

“They may have,” Eliza said, “but they can't know
we've
been there. He likely just wants to know if we've seen Caleb. Not many guys are going to hang around the crime scene and wait to get busted.”

“It doesn't add up,” Dane bit out. “He's not stupid. And I can't have been so wrong about someone. What did he have to gain? Why kill her?”

“Kill who?” Caleb said flatly. “I want some goddamn answers and I want them now.”

To Dane's relief, they were nearly to one of the many off-the-grid properties he owned. This would buy them some time, and hell, if Caleb was guilty, Dane would turn him in himself.

He roared into the garage and parked. Beau roared in beside him and Dane immediately shut the garage door.

Dane got out and yanked open the door to the backseat. “Get out,” he ordered. “And walk slowly into the house.”

Frustrated by this stupid game they were playing, Caleb stalked through the door and into the living room.

“Sit,” Dane directed, sweeping the barrel of his gun downward to indicate Caleb was to sit on the couch.

With a sigh, Caleb sank onto the edge of the couch.

Beau strode in behind Eliza, his eyes haunted as they traveled the length of Caleb's body, taking in the gory sight of so much blood.

“Would everyone stop looking at me like that and tell me what the fuck is going on?” Caleb roared in frustration.

“I'll do you one better,” Beau said grimly. “I'll show you.”

With shaking hands, he punched a series of buttons on his phone and then turned, shoving the screen into Caleb's line of vision.

“I can't watch this again,” Eliza said, turning away but not before Caleb saw the sheen of tears glistening in her eyes.

Caleb focused his gaze on the LCD screen, his dread growing with every passing second. His brow furrowed when he realized someone had filmed him and Ramie in bed, asleep.

Movement from the bed silenced him when he would have demanded an explanation.

“What the fuck?” he murmured when he saw himself get up and exit the bedroom. Time on the video continued to elapse and he frowned, wondering who the hell had been in the room with him and Ramie. His eyes caught movement again and he leaned forward, shocked to see himself return, carrying a wicked-looking blade.

“What the . . .”

He went deathly still, every muscle painfully contracting in his body. Bile rose in his throat as he stared in utter horror at the events that played out on the screen. No. No. No. This could not be happening. No goddamn way. They couldn't think . . .

He glanced at his brother, who was looking at him with such disgust that it staggered him. And Dane, who looked as ill as Caleb felt.

They
did
think . . .

He bent over and dry-heaved on the floor, nothing left in his stomach to come up. He'd never been so sick in his entire life. Sick at heart.

“Get it out of my sight,” Caleb choked out. “Dear God, you can't think I did something so horrific. I
love
her!”

Dane's gaze was fastened on the screen, his features ice cold.

“That says right there you did,” Dane spit out. “You want to tell us where you took her?”

“I didn't take her anywhere, goddamn it! Why won't you listen to me?”

“Because we have overwhelming evidence to the contrary,” Beau said, his voice shaking.

Sick fear twisted Caleb's insides. His own brother was convinced of his guilt. For the first time, Caleb considered the very real ramifications of that damning video. This would be a slam-dunk case. Nothing Caleb said or did would make any difference. Everyone who saw the footage would immediately convict him in their minds—and in a court of law.