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“Yeah,” Shane said, standing. “Let’s move out. We’ve only got a couple of hours until daylight.”
ChapterFifteen
Icy cold water hit Rachel in the face and brought her gasping to consciousness. She didn’t remember the drive to wherever she was now or how long she’d been unconscious. She only remembered the fiery explosion in the basement of the bank and that Shane was buried somewhere in the rubble.
She’d screamed and fought against Carrie, not caring about her own safety, and she’d tried to run back down the stairs and into chaos. She remembered Carrie’s arms struggling to hold her and that someone else had been there. That’s when the second blow had come and it had felt like the back of her skull had exploded. It was lights out after that.
Her vision was blurred and the icy water wracked her body with chills. Her thoughts were scattered and her mind wouldn’t cooperate as she tried to piece things together. The right side of her face ached with every laborious breath she took and her eye was swollen almost completely shut. The fierce headache throbbing through her skull was from the blow to the back of the head she’d received. She tried to take stock of the rest of her body, but she couldn’t assess the damage since her ankles were tied to a chair with sturdy rope and her hands were cuffed behind her.
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauty,” Carrie’s voice sang out. “We wouldn’t want your uncle to make the trip all this way only to find you’d passed out. Torture is more fun when the victim is awake. I’m sure you understand that.”
Rachel’s wet hair hung down in front of her face and she didn’t have the strength to raise her head and give Carrie the glare she deserved. Her vision swam and she had to focus to stay conscious.
“I hope he kills you,” Rachel rasped. Her throat was dry and the words protested as she tried to force them out. “I’ll be glad to watch you die, but I promise you if he doesn’t that I will hunt you down and do it myself.”
“Ooh, that’s scary,” Carrie said. Her casual laugh chilled Rachel’s blood. “Are you going to come back as a ghost and haunt me?”
Rachel gritted her teeth and forced her head up so she could look Carrie in the eyes, ignoring the pain that was radiating from her skull. Carrie was still dressed in FBI black and her weapon was holstered at her side. But it was her face that gave Rachel the chills. How could anyone be that good of an actress when the insanity was so transparent behind the eyes? Blood was smeared on her cheek and her blond hair was matted and mussed from the aftershocks of the explosion.
“You won’t get away with what you did to Shane. To Jones. You’re a sick woman. Beyond anyone’s help. Which means hell is too good for you. So I’ll do whatever I have to do,” Rachel swore. “As long as it means you’re dead.”
Carrie’s smile froze in place at the look Rachel gave her. Both women were determined not to back down, but there was fear inside Carrie that hadn’t been there a moment ago. An elevator pinged in the distance and footsteps echoed on the concrete floors. Rachel took a moment to look at her surroundings and try to figure out where she was.
She was surrounded by windows. And from the view she knew she was fairly high up. The lights from the hotels and other businesses shone through the windows and lit the floor she was occupying. Stacks of lumber and buckets of paint were scattered around the room, and the metal folding chair she sat in seemed to be the only furniture.
The sight of her Uncle Angelo walking into the room was her worst nightmare come to life. He looked so much like her father it brought a pang to her heart, but looks was where the similarities ended. Angelo had a brutality to him that her father had never possessed. Even with the position of power over the mob Dom had obtained over the years, he’d never resorted to cruelty to get what he wanted. And for a time the other mob families had respected that and followed the same guidelines he’d set.
Angelo clucked his tongue at the sight of her. “Well, niece, I’ve certainly seen you looking better. The swelling on your face might make it harder for the authorities to identify your body. But don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll figure it out sooner or later. The FBI has ways of finding such things out. Isn’t that right, Agent Layne?” he asked Carrie.
Rachel could only handle one threat at a time so didn’t bother looking at her Uncle Angelo. She stared at Carrie. If she was going to die, she wanted the other woman to know she’d meant every word she’d said about her fate.
Carrie was doing everything possible to ignore Rachel. There were undercurrents in the room that Rachel didn’t understand. Carrie was watching the two men who stood at Angelo’s back and trying to relay some unspoken communication to them. They looked like exactly what they were. Hired thugs. Their suits were boxy and their minds empty except for whatever orders were tossed their way, and Carrie’s frustration was growing palpable.
Angelo didn’t like being ignored. “Now, tell me, niece, who did this to your pretty face?”
Rachel didn’t answer. She just kept her glare on Carrie.
“Ahh,” Angelo said. “I believe I can connect the dots.” He turned around and faced Carrie, and she stood defiantly in front of him.
“Has the money been transferred?” she asked.
“Yes. And I even added the extra hundred thousand you demanded to bring me Rachel alive. Though it wasn’t in good form to mark her like this. She won’t last nearly as long now.”
“I did what I had to do,” she said shrugging. She pulled out the envelope from the inside of her jacket and handed it over to Angelo. “And here’s the list as requested. For no extra charge.”
Angelo pulled out the list and scanned it before folding it and putting it in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “I assume your travelling companions have been taken care of as well?”
“Yes. You could say they had an unfortunate accident,” Carrie said, smirking in Rachel’s direction. “Now, if you’ll give me a minute to call and make sure the funds have been transferred into my account, I’ll be on my way. Not that I don’t believe you about the money. But I make it a point to never trust anyone.”
Carrie walked over to the two guards as if she were going to tell them something, but the words never made it out of her mouth. Angelo moved with a speed not many people knew him capable of. The buck knife he habitually carried in a sheath at the small of his back was in his hand in a matter of seconds, and the lights from the hotel across the street flashed across the six-inch silver blade.
Angelo grabbed Carrie by the hair and held the knife to her throat. Her hand automatically went to the holster at her side, but Angelo pressed harder with the blade until Rachel could see the thin line of blood dripping from the tip of the knife. Carrie dropped her hands.
“Do something, you fools,” she called out to the two guards. “Kill him.”
The men stood still and looked straight ahead, ignoring her pleas.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t know about you bribing my men to turn against me?” Angelo asked. “You thought you were so clever, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” he demanded.
