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“Sayers is in the house. He has Jess,” Marcus snarled and felt his entire world shudder to a halt.
Jess swallowed against the rising tide of bile in her throat, and watched Mr Gillespie, or rather Sayers, pace backward and forward in front of the window. At first glance, she thought it was rain trickling down his forehead. But, when he reached up to brush it off, and she witnessed the violent shaking of his hand, she suspected it was sweat. The man was worried about something.
She had never been so scared in her life, but she was helpless to do anything except wait to see how everything turned out.
“Who has been in this house?” Gillespie demanded.
“Well, everyone you know, me, and Marcus,” Jess replied.
“What about that brother of yours?”
Jess stared blankly at him for a moment. She watched him run a frantic hand through his hair and tried desperately to come up with a lie. When she couldn’t come up with anything credible, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“He is at his lover’s house in Retterton. He goes there sometimes. He will be back in time to light the fires and get everything ready for breakfast. He won’t be back for hours yet.”
“You were in that room. You!” Gillespie snapped.
“Which room?” She wondered if something in his mind had snapped and he had lost all rationality.
“That hole in the wall you call a bedroom. This dump should have been condemned years ago,” Gillespie snapped. “You were in that stable up there. What did you do with them?”
“Do with what?” Jess cried. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Tears sprang into her eyes when his hand slapped across her cheek with painful ferocity. Her cry was loud when he yanked her head back by her hair and shoved his face into hers.
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know what you mean.” It was the truth; she didn’t. “Who? I don’t know what you are talking about.”
Gillespie suddenly released her, uttered a vicious curse, and stalked toward the window again. Rather than stand before it to stare out across the garden, he stood to one side and peered around a half-open shutter.
“I need to get out of here,” Sayers muttered to himself.
“Not today, Gillespie,” Marcus drawled from the doorway.
Jess jerked and turned to look at him, and immediately sagged with relief.
Her heart burgeoned with love at the sight of him standing so tall and proud, and blessedly unharmed. He looked so dark and dangerous that it was difficult to associate him with the man whose bed she shared. The Marcus she had slept with had been so incredibly tender, loving and gentle that she had felt cosseted and the most precious person in the world. The man beside her now was sinister. He looked at her, but there was no recognition in his eyes. She might have been a veritable stranger to him, and that worried her.
“Marcus?” she asked hesitantly.
She flinched with fear when he seemed to look through her, and turned an icy glare toward her captor.
“Or should I say, Sayers?”
Marcus surreptitiously studied Jess. He had seen Gillespie hit her. It was why he hadn’t lingered in the hallway any longer. It was clear that Sayers was starting to panic, and was focusing his worry on Jess. It was imperative Marcus got Jess out of the house before Sayers did something serious, like pulling his gun on her.
The last thing any member of the Star Elite expected was to bring the man down so early on in the investigation. Terrence Sayers had always been as elusive as he was ruthless. On the many occasions they had chased him in London, he had vanished just as quickly as he had appeared. Today, they had been handed a golden opportunity and intended to make full use of it.
Determined to get the job over with, Marcus focused his attention on capturing his cornered quarry.
“I think the greyed out hair is an excellent ruse, but it must have been a nightmare in the rain. After all, the powders are, unless I am mistaken, make-up, which will run when it comes into contact with water. Not only that, but your paunch doesn’t move as well as you do. I have no doubt that is padding and will detach completely. It is time for you to understand that the game is up, Sayers.”
Sayers turned to face him; his lip curled derisively.
“You think you know it all, don’t you? Well, I am not Sayers. I am his brother. Sayers is back in London looking after his network there. He never left London at all.”
Marcus shook his head. “Oh well, I am sure you will do just as nicely.”
