“Fuck,” I murmur. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. We’re almost there.”
“Marilyn’s phone is still on the premises, but she could have left it behind. However, I used satellite, and her car and one other appear to be there.”
“One-mile warning,” Jay says, pulling into a restaurant where Enrique and the New Hampshire PD are meeting us.
“I need to focus, Tic Tac.”
I disconnect and Enrique pulls in beside us. The three of us get out of the car, me with my MacBook in hand, and form a circle at the hood of the vehicle. I pull up the satellite map to the property Tic Tac sent me and outline a plan.
When two unmarked police vehicles arrive, unmarked per my request, I meet with Detective Adams alone, without Jay or Enrique. “Did you bring what I need?”
“I did,” he says, handing me a long-distance walkie-talkie. “It’s good for sixty-five miles. We’ll set-up about a mile out from the property. And,” he reaches into a bag at his side, and hands me a small recording device, “this won’t feed to us. I didn’t have the right equipment to get you wired. We’re a bigger city for New Hampshire, but we’re still small.”
“This works. I’ll SOS on the walkie-talkie when I have the confessions recorded or if I need help.”
“Yes, ma’am, Agent Love. Happy to help. God be with you.” He motions to my bracelet. “And a little luck.”
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
I let Jay and Enrique off a short distance from the cottage and I drive straight up the drive to park. The cottage is blue like her old family home. I wonder if that was her grandmother's doing or her own. I shrug out of my coat, more concerned about ease of movement than I am about the weather. But my bag is at my hip, a gun inside. A knife in my waistband. We all know that’s my weapon of choice.
Unease burns in my belly as I exit the vehicle and walk toward the house, intending to tell Marilyn I was worried about her and wanted to check on her. I step on the porch as a plank squeaks, a wind chime clamoring about with a gust of the wind, the taste of rain in the air. I ring the bell but no one comes.
I peek in the windows and see no movement. I rotate and scan the grounds, spying the pond, a hanging swing that seems to be swaying unnaturally even in this wind. Someone is calling me.
I grab my phone and call Jay. “I’m going out to the pond. Clear the house then back me up. Tell Enrique to take the far side of the pond.”
“Be careful.”
I don’t answer him. I disconnect and slide my phone inside my waistband next to my knife for ease of reach. The shadows hover but the sun has not fully set, thank fuck, but the damn the wind pushes against me as I refuse its warning. If our men are alive now, they won’t be later. I keep moving forward, but a gut feeling has me palming my knife and sliding it up one sleeve. The other hand holds my Ruger. Thick trees surround the pond. I don’t like it.
“Help!” I hear Marilyn’s familiar voice, nearby, too nearby.
Behind me, there’s a gunshot. I back up and some instinct has me turn as someone runs toward me. My blade is out instantly and the minute he’s in front of me, I drive it in his belly. Desmond. It’s Desmond. He tugs the blade from his gut and tosses it. I aim my gun at him. “FBI. Down on your knees. Hands behind your head.” Someone hits me from behind. I stumble and suddenly I’m being sprayed with mace. Thanks to the wind, it misses my eyes and mouth, but holy hell they burn anyway and my cheek is on fire.
I’m thrown to my back and Desmond grabs my arms. Marilyn straddles me. “Bitch,” Marilyn says. “You are a bitch. And now you get to die just like the rest of them. You taunted us.”
Desmond starts to tie my hands. At least one of my men has to be down. I heard the shot. “We didn’t even know Rip.”
“You were invited to Emma’s wedding. That’s how I know you were the real deal. They didn’t just throw Kane’s name around. You were friends with Emma.”
“Everyone wants Kane at their events. They’re scared of him, but they’re obsessed with him. We didn’t know them.”
“Liar,” she screams and slaps the fuck out of me, the burn right on top of that damn mace that I pray to God she doesn’t use again or I’m finished. That is unless the wind blasts her and Desmond at the same time. But bottom line, my hands are now roped. I have no knife. I have no gun I can get to. I have only my legs and my teeth. And I’ll use both.