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“Don’t be ridiculous. If he’s really alive and cared the slightest bit about me, he wouldn’t have let me walk into a trap like that.”
“Good point,” Harry conceded. “But I’m not giving up hope. Look at it this way, I’m keeping you in one piece until I’m certain Peter Jensen isn’t going to ride to the rescue.”
“His name is Madsen.”
He contemplated hitting her again, then decided it wasn’t worth it. “You see, it would be twice the fun making him watch. Double the pleasure, double the pain.”
“I’m sure he’s seen a lot of people die, Harry,” she said, too calm for his liking. “He’s not going to give much of a shit whether you kill me or not—he’s not that sentimental. You could always kill him first and make me watch, but I’m afraid I’d simply enjoy that, and you wouldn’t get your rocks off…”
“Don’t you ever shut up?” he demanded.
“Not if I can help it,” she shot back.
Oh, he was really going to enjoy killing her, maybe more than he’d ever enjoyed killing anyone. She was rapidly becoming even more infuriating than Peter Jensen…Madsen himself.
“Guess what?” he said cheerfully, slapping some duct tape over her mouth. “You can’t help it.”
He could barely see the road, but he tore up it like a bat out of hell anyway, trying to catch up with the taillights that must be somewhere ahead of him. Where the hell could he be taking her in this impenetrable fog? He could just as easily run off the road as Peter could, and they’d have to be careful.
They were in a limo. Presumably with a driver, since Harry never did a thing for himself when he didn’t have to, and he’d have a hard time controlling Genevieve while trying to drive in this shit.
Which meant he had her to himself in the back of the car. Peter stepped harder on the gas pedal, guessing where the winding road led. They were heading in the direction of Big Bear, the tackier of the lake resorts, and if Harry got that far he’d be even harder to find.
Peter wasn’t giving up. His rifle was beside him in the rental car, which had all the pickup of a donkey, but he didn’t expect it to do him much good when he could barely see three feet in front of him. He was going to have to get a lot closer to kill Harry Van Dorn, and that suited him just fine. If he could just find him.
He was just past Running Springs when he saw the taillights, barely visible in the
thick fog. They were moving up the road at a steady clip. He slammed on the accelerator and the car fishtailed on the wet road surface. It took him a moment to regain control, and by then the car ahead of him was out of sight, and he punched the steering wheel, cursing.
The road was straightening out a bit, and he sped up. He had no idea what time it was—with the fog that thick it could be daylight or midnight. His headlights bounced back at him, and he tried turning off the brights, hoping he’d be able to see a little bit better, when a vehicle came out of the darkness, slamming into his, knocking the car sideways off the road into a ditch.
He scrambled out of the car, ready to kill, when a voice he thought he’d never hear again broke the swirling clouds of night.
“He ditched the car and took her off into the woods, Peter.” Bastien Toussaint’s calm voice came out of the darkness. “You’re heading in the wrong direction.”
Peter froze. He didn’t waste his time asking stupid questions, like why was Bastien there and how did he know. What mattered was that Bastien would have the answers.
“Where’s he taken her?”
“There’s an old abandoned school up this way— used to be some movie star’s mountain home, and then it was a school. It’s been closed down for years now, but Harry managed to buy up the rights under a dummy corporation. He’ll have taken her there. And he’ll be wanting you to come get her, now that he knows you’re alive.”
“That’s exactly what I plan to do. What the hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in North Carolina having a baby?”
“My wife’s got that under control right now. Madame Lambert asked for help, and she wouldn’t ask lightly. I owe you, and I pay my debts. Come on. I’ll show you the way to the school. We’re better off going through the woods. I’m pretty sure Harry’s on his own now with your girlfriend, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.”
“She not my—”
“Save your breath, Peter. Once we get her out of there and put an end to Harry, you can deny it all you want. It makes no difference to me. But in the meantime we’d better get to her before Harry gets tired of the game. He knows it won’t take you long to find him, even without my help, and he’ll be waiting. But he never was a patient man, and he’ll have a toy to play with while he waits for you to show up.”
Peter stopped arguing. Bastien didn’t need to come with him, put his own life in danger after he’d walked away from all this, but he would do it, and nothing Peter said would stop him. He’d watch his back, as Peter had done for him, and between the two of them Genevieve Spenser would be safe.
If they could just get there in time.
23
It really was a beautiful old building, despite the years it had lain empty. Genevieve had more than enough chance to admire it—after Harry had bound and gagged her, he’d walked her what seemed like miles through the thick fog, past abandoned buildings and torn-up parking lots. “Watch out for the swimming pool,” Harry had said jovially as he’d marched her up a stone staircase. “Most of the water is long gone but there’s enough in there to drown you, if the stink doesn’t kill you.” He pushed open a heavy door and shoved her inside, out of the fog, flicking on dim lights that still managed to hurt her eyes. They were in the middle of a huge room, built like an old hunting lodge, with a massive fireplace, a row of built-in seats around it and balconies crisscrossing overhead. Dead animals were stuffed and mounted on the walls, and across the top of the fireplace was the sign The Truth Shall Set You Free. If she hadn’t been gagged Genevieve would have laughed.
“Great place, isn’t this?” Harry said with the enthusiasm of a young boy showing off his newest toy. “It used to belong to John Huston or someone like that, and then it was turned into a school for drugged-out rich kids. They shut it down years ago and I bought it up on a whim. Always liked the place, even if it’s seen a lot of hard use. Let me show you around a bit. You’ll like it.”
