Chapter 16 #3
Suddenly, Caroline couldn’t stay in the same room with the two men, with the photographs and with the doubts about the man she’d made love to all weekend.
The man she’d been falling in love with.
Was half in love with, still. If she stayed in this room one second more, she’d vomit her misery all over the floor.
She shivered violently, stood up and rushed out the door.
Jack parked on the other side of Hamilton Park just as it started to snow.
Didn’t make any difference. He didn’t mind the cold and he needed to stretch his legs after the long day spent in his SUV driving around offices.
He needed the walk across the park on the way to Caroline’s shop, to clear his head.
Something was very wrong with Caroline. Jack could feel it in his bones. All day, as he’d gone about his business, he’d had the tickle of unease as a background noise in his head.
Pity because otherwise, it had been a good day, no doubt about it. An airtight security system was going up at Greenbriar tomorrow. Cost him the better part of $8,000 but it was worth it. Caroline didn’t have to know how much it cost.
A fabulous property in a busy downtown building which would be just perfect for his business was for sale at a very reasonable price and he had an appointment the day after tomorrow with the realtor. With luck, he could incorporate and start his new business by mid-January.
His day had ended with a visit to an estate lawyer, something that had been preying on his mind. No matter what happened to him, if he dropped dead this instant, from this day on, Caroline would be taken care of. She was his sole heir and she could live in ease from the proceeds of his estate.
Very satisfying all in all, but he couldn’t relax until he cleared up what was eating Caroline. She’d been pale and silent over breakfast, looking worried and wan.
He hated that. He hated to see that look on her face.
It was probably a mix of money worries, someone she considered a friend attacking her and that fucking son of a bitch breaking into her home.
Well, that wasn’t ever going to happen again.
The new security system was airtight. The only way to break into Greenbriar as of tomorrow would be to blow up the door with Semtex or fire an RPG through the living room window of Caroline’s home.
His home. Soon.
The last thing he’d done in his busy day was price diamond rings.
It hadn’t been fun making the rounds of jewelers but it had to be done.
His head swirled with technical data. Carats, clarity, hue.
He didn’t give a fuck. All he knew was that he wanted something big and his on her ring finger.
Big and bright and shiny enough so that it screamed back off!
to every male who came within a 100-foot radius of her.
He’d seen at least twenty rings that would do. Tomorrow he’d swing by again and bag one.
The irony of shopping for a diamond ring when he had a fortune in uncut diamonds in a safe deposit box wasn’t lost on him.
Not for a second, though, was he tempted to use one of the diamonds in the cloth bag.
They were tainted with blood, heartbreak and suffering.
He’d never let one of them even near her.
The stones would have to go as soon as he could arrange it.
He wanted them out of his life and Caroline’s.
There was a perfect way to wipe out the bad karma and he was sure Caroline would approve.
That idea was for later, for when she’d accepted that they were together. Were meant to be together for a lifetime.
When could he give her the engagement ring? Not today—today she was upset, tired, worried. He was going to have to work overtime at loving her tonight, not that it would be a hardship.
Maybe he’d give it a week. A week of sex and food and rest, fixing up her house, making it safe and comfortable. Put the roses back on her cheeks, wipe the worry off her face.
Yes, this time next week, he’d find out what the nicest restaurant in the area was, take her out and propose.
Or take her to Seattle. Or—hell—to Aruba.
That sounded about right. Some luxury resort, days in the sun, nights making love.
A candlelight dinner, the ring and the promise to love her all the rest of his days.
And he’d have Caroline for the rest of his life.
The idea wouldn’t leave his head, once he’d planted the seed of it. Caroline—his forever. They’d have children and he’d grow old with her by his side. It was the one thing he’d never even dared to dream, all those lonely nights thinking of her, and here he was, close enough to touch the dream.
The image filled his head so much he could see her, right before him…
Jack frowned. That wasn’t a vision—it was Caroline, running right into the park in the middle of the fucking snowstorm. His jaws clenched. Shit, she was without a coat and had on a pair of those fancy shoes that might be good in a heated shop but that were ridiculous in the snow.
His frown deepened. She was going to catch pneumonia. Before she slipped and broke her fucking neck.
“Caroline!” he roared. “Get back in the shop before you catch your death of cold!”
She looked up, saw him and froze, panic and fear etched on her face. Then she whirled and disappeared into the shrubbery lining the path. In a second, the only thing on the path was falling snowflakes.
A sudden gust of raw easterly wind parted the snow. Jack could see all the way across the park and the street to Caroline’s shop. He had only a glimpse before the snow curtain closed again, but it was enough. Standing in the doorway was Vince Deaver.
The shock of seeing a man he’d left in custody ten thousand miles away sent him reeling.
His hands shook as he drew his weapon and checked it for ammo.
It was second nature. He always had a full magazine.
But he was operating on half his wits right now because the other half was scared shitless.
Vince Deaver, a man he’d watched blow kids’ heads apart, was here, gunning for him, and Caroline was caught right in the middle.
Weapon in hand, crouching, Jack started circling towards Caroline.
She’d taken him completely by surprise, otherwise she’d never have left the shop. Not alive, anyway.
Deaver raced after Caroline Lake, but a curtain of snow drifted down and enveloped her before he could get out of the shop. She could have bolted in any direction.
Deaver stood in the doorway, weapon in hand, senses wide open. He couldn’t let Caroline Lake get away. She was the key to the diamonds, and she was what would get him his revenge.
“Caroline!” a deep voice shouted from across the street. “Get back in the shop before you catch your death of cold!”
Jack Prescott! Deaver would recognize that voice anywhere. He was here! It was impossible to tell how far away he was, the snow muffled sound, but by God, he was here, Caroline Lake was here and Deaver was so close to the diamonds he could almost smell it.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out the Beretta 92F Drake had acquired for him. The snick of the safety coming off sounded loud in the room. As did the sudden intake of breath behind him.
Fuck, he’d completely forgotten about McCullin.
“Hey!” McCullin said. “You can’t fire that thing. What if you hit Caroline? Aren’t there rules for you guys about using your weapon?”
“Shut up,” he growled. This guy yapping in the background was distracting him. He needed to figure out where Prescott was and where the Lake woman was so he could grab her without getting shot. Prescott was damned good with his weapon.
Well, fuck, so was he.
The snow was drifting in through the open door, melting onto the shop’s hardwood floor.
Ordinarily, this was a bad position to be in for a firefight.
No one stood in a lit doorway. But the weather was so severe, it didn’t make any difference.
Deaver sighted down his weapon, tracking in quarters.
First quarter, blink to black, second quarter…
McCullin tapped him on the shoulder, hard. Hard enough to make him miss the shot if he’d been about to take it. “Put that gun away, someone might get hurt.” He had the petulant voice of the rich. Don’t pull a gun, you might hurt someone. Another sharp tap. “Did you hear me?”
There he was! There was a break in the snow and Deaver could see Prescott.
He was dressed in black and contrasted with the snow.
It had been just a glimpse but Deaver had been able to make out his outline.
Deaver didn’t see a weapon but that didn’t mean Prescott wasn’t armed.
Still, if he knew Caroline Lake was in the vicinity, it wasn’t likely he’d start shooting until he knew what the situation was.
Deaver had a little window of opportunity here. He didn’t want to kill Prescott—not yet at any rate. He wanted to wing him, disable him, and use the Lake woman as leverage.
Good thing he’d done some zone recon yesterday.
Across the street from the bookshop was a little park.
It didn’t offer much coverage—just some shrubbery and a little gazebo in the middle.
It was perfect. Prescott would be afraid to use his weapon and the Lake woman would have huddled up in the center.
There he was again! Up against the big oak in the center of the park, trying to get his bearings.
Deaver bent his knees and brought his weapon up two-handed, at an angle to present as small a target as possible, ready for the next break in the snow.
A heavy dump of it came, then the wind parted one of the sheets.
Deaver was breathing regularly, feeling his heartbeat, waiting for the moment from one beat to the next, though at this range, he could hardly miss.
Now! A slight break in the snow. Deaver sighted…