Page 112 of Ruthless Cross

Marcus put up a hand in shock. "What are you doing? You can't kill me."

"I can kill you and save Callie. I'll be the hero. You'll be the murderer."

"But the painting will point to you. You just said that," he reminded his mother, a desperate note in his voice.

"Not if I say the painting was always yours, that you painted it and used my initials to set me up. You did it to pay me back for giving you up for adoption all those years ago. And they'll understand that the murders started five years ago, when you were nineteen, when you found out you were adopted. I'll help them make the connection. I'll help them see that you were determined to hurt me, the mother who abandoned you. There will be records from your psychiatrist."

"I saw a psychiatrist once."

"There will be many visits, Marcus. You will be seen as a mentally ill man who painted his madness and used that painting as a calling card for death. I almost hate to let you take the glory of my legend, but it's something I have to do. The evil must be punished. Did you learn nothing from my story? Did I not tell you before that people who cross me, who abuse their power, who betray trust, who take what isn't theirs must fall from their high horse, must shatter themselves on the ground of humbleness?"

As Victoria's voice rose with passion and madness, terror ran through Callie. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to get past them and out of the building. If Victoria killed Marcus, she'd come for her next. She'd just said she hated loose ends. Although, she'd also said she could be seen as the hero, so maybe there was a chance she wouldn't die. But it was hard to believe that with the crazy scene unfolding below. She wanted to run.But what if she drew their attention?She had to stay put, wait for her chance.

"You're truly insane," Marcus said. "I'm your son. You'd be killing a part of yourself."

"A part I gave away a long time ago. While I may be insane, I'm not stupid. I don't get caught. Not ever. It's my superpower. And I won't lose it because of you."

"You don't have to kill me. We can make this work. I'll get the painting back. Or I'll confess to everything. I'll keep you out of it."

He was begging for his life, but Callie didn't think Victoria was listening.

"It's too late, Marcus. I know what I have to do."

Callie held her breath, wondering if she was about to see Victoria kill her own son, when a door slammed. Both Victoria and Marcus turned in the direction of that sound. A man was hauled into the room by another man. She didn't recognize either one of them. One was young and stocky, wearing ripped jeans and a denim jacket over a T-shirt. The other was much older—maybe in his sixties—with blond hair and a lean build.

As he turned toward the light, she saw his strikingly light eyes, and she was reminded of Flynn. Suddenly she knew exactly who this man was: Flynn's father—Sam Beringer.

Did that mean that Flynn was close by?

She was almost afraid that was true. She didn't want him to walk into a trap to rescue her, and she was afraid that was exactly what was about to happen.

* * *

Flynn moved quietly into the warehouse. His father had deliberately gotten caught by the guard standing outside and had been taken into the building. The door had been left open, and it had been easy to slip in behind them. He moved toward the sound of voices, straining to hear Callie's voice, to know that she was alive.

Sliding behind a pallet of boxes, his gaze quickly swept the room, assessing the situation. He wasn't completely surprised to see Marcus Vitelli standing in front of Victoria, who had a gun in her hand. He'd always thought there was something between them.

There was no sign of Callie. She had to be stashed away somewhere in the building. He wanted to look for her, but he needed to deal with this dangerous group first.

"Found this guy outside," the guard said.

"Get back out there, Greg. Make sure he didn't bring his FBI son with him," Victoria ordered.

"Don't go anywhere," Marcus said. "She's crazy. She's going to kill us all."

"I'm not going to kill you, Greg," Victoria said, an evil sneer in her voice. "But these two—maybe. I don't think you want to be here for that, do you? Go outside and make sure no one else comes in."

Greg hesitated. The young guy was clearly over his head.

"Don't move," Marcus ordered.

"Dude, this is not what I agreed to," Greg said, as he jogged toward the exit, leaving Marcus and Sam alone with Victoria.

He was happy to see Greg go. One less man to deal with. He'd track him down later. He'd pay for trying to run him and Callie off the road.

He moved around the perimeter, searching for the best position to take a shot.

"You don't have to kill me, Victoria," his father said. "I came here because I want in on the action. I can help you. I know what's going on."

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