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Informing the police is out of the question. The law digging into our lives would be devastating. No question, I have to tackle this on my own.
The property where my father’s house sits is huge. Since I can’t approach from the front, I park close to the back entrance, my mind still working the problem. Distraction sizzles through me as I get out of the car, and a branch crunches under my foot. Panic stops my forward movement. Luckily no one is around. If I don’t focus, we’ll all be dead.
Before leaving my car, I grab the pistol from under my seat. Two months ago, we would have had two armed men on the property and more in the house. God, my father’s illness has screwed him up badly. Maybe he forgot his transgressions. Obviously, others haven’t let bygones be bygones. I need to find out who sent these men here.
Climbing the fence isn’t as easy as it used to be, but it’s not impossible. No one drives by to witness my less than stellar performance, allowing me to enter without having the cops called. Lucky for me, there are enough trees and growth at the back of the property to hide my movements. It would be unfortunate to be shot right here before I can do anything to save my father, and I guess, his soon-to-be wife. God, I can't believe my father thought marrying Eric Gale's daughter would be prudent. Gale is a step above us. We've done some illegal things, but Gale isn’t the type of man to trifle with.
Once at the pool house, I breathe a little easier. There are guns here. I easily find a Glock and two stun guns along with the ammunition I need.
My eyes slide shut as I think about the house and where they have my father and Adali. Based on the photo, they are in the kitchen. The men may have moved them, but they would have to have moved the chairs, too, which would have been cumbersome. Adali would be easier since she's so small. My father is too big to move in one of those chairs. I decide they haven't moved them.
The kitchen has three outside entrances. The garage is out of the question. The door squeaks. We need to oil it, but I've put it off because I've been busy tackling work issues. The entry from the pool is too visible. I'll need to swing to the other side of the house and enter through the set of doors that opens to the patio and the grill area.
The cooks wouldn’t ever allow us to go in or out that way, said it was too dangerous with all the hot grills. Not that they used them all the time, but the cooks in my parents’ employ were strict.
It has been a while since we've used the grills. My parents threw huge parties during the summer when my mom was alive. The grills churned out burgers and hot dogs like crazy. Those parties had been fun.
Keeping to the trees and bushes, I make my way over to the side of the house. The patio has piles of leaves where they've blown up against chairs and the half-wall next to the grills. We should clean this up. Actually, we should sell this house. The money from Gale will make us solvent if I can make it work. Taking care of his money will be a huge job. I hate that my father has made a deal with Gale.
Right now, I need to worry about saving his daughter. No daughter, no deal. That is shitty of me to think, but it’s the truth. If we don’t save Adali Gale, everything will go up in smoke.
Before entering the house, I draw in a deep breath. Our methods are usually more refined. We don't dirty ourselves with gunplay, but this bastard has pissed me off, and I'm not going to allow them to come into my house and scare our guests.
The door slips open silently, and I step in, glad the people in the kitchen can't see me. The butler's pantry is large and hides the door from the main part of the kitchen. This used to be my favorite hiding spot when playing hide and seek. I know this room and the intricacies like I know my own face. For instance, I know I can take a peek out into the kitchen, and they can't see me unless the person is standing in just the right spot.
I move silently, slipping into position. There are two men I can see, but I fear there may be more. Adali’s guard is on the ground. I hope he isn’t dead.
It has been a while since I’ve dirtied my own hands. But this insult must be answered. My father has done some stupid stuff, but these men coming to our house and taking hostages is too much.
I lift the pistol and line up the sights. I draw in a slow breath, knowing I need to act but stalling because I haven't shot anyone in a while. I take the shot, dropping the first guy. The second man moves to look at the first guy I took out, and he's down seconds later. Two more men move into view, and I shoot them. The muffled screams from Adali turn to whimpers. I hope that doesn't mean she's about to get shot.
With a quick step, I round the corner and step into the main part of the kitchen. There are no more invaders to be seen.
"Are there more?" I ask before I pull the cloth from Adali's mouth. She shakes her head, and I breathe out relief.
This is messy, and no doubt I'll need special help to get this cleaned up. First, I need to get Adali and Dad free. It takes a moment to get the tape cut away. I hate that they've used duct tape on my father. It will tear his skin so I tell them to hold tight as I dash into the cleaning closet and find a bottle of baby oil. One of the housekeepers kept it around to remove sticky residue. I only know this because my mother got angry when I put a sticker on my headboard. The woman helping me clean it off showed me the trick with baby oil.
After getting them detached from the chairs, I move Dad to the sink first and start using the oil to break down the sticky residue and loosen it from Dad’s skin.
Adali stays close, keeping an eye on the men. I don’t blame her for being afraid. Hell, these men scare the shit out of me.
“Ouch,” Dad says as he rubs his wrists.
“Dad, what was this about?”
He looks up at me and shakes his head. Shit, I need a cleaning crew. Before helping Adali, I check the guard's pulse. He's still alive, but his pulse is weak. He may not make it. I dial for a private ambulance. It's the one the society uses in situations like this. We're only supposed to use it in real emergencies, and this counts as a real emergency.
The mess in the kitchen is fairly awful. I’ll have to return favors.
“Dad, come here and hold pressure on this wound.”
For a second, I think he’s not going to help, but he moves close and takes over holding pressure. Next, I send a text to the cleaning crew. They’ll take care of dumping the bodies and cleaning up the kitchen. If a crime scene unit shows up two days from now, they won’t find any evidence.
My main concern is figuring out who sent the men and what they hoped to accomplish. Maybe they're private contractors. Could they have gained information from one of Dad's less than careful bungles of late?
While I wait for the cleaning crew to show, I take care of Adali's wrists. She's young, but up close, she appears at least eighteen, possibly older than twenty. Her size makes her look much younger, but the small lines at her eyes give her age away.
As I'm working the tape free from her wrists, trying not to damage her skin, my gaze connects with hers. Her blue eyes grow wider as she stares up at me. Desire rises, and I have difficulty keeping it under control since she's leaning against me. I adjust so there is more air between us.
