Page 43 of Gage
“Weird how?”
“Said they weren’t going to a restaurant for lunch. They were going to Blackthorn’s house instead. He didn’t like it, but couldn’t convince Suzanna it wasn’t a good idea. I’ve been calling and he’s not answering.”
Gage closed his eyes and leaned against the brick wall at his back, a wave of hopelessness shooting through him. Blackthorn had already made one attempt on her in New Orleans, there was proof of that in the files Sandoval gave him. Now she was almost two hundred miles away, and there was no way he’d get there in time. If Blackthorn got his hands on her…
“Gage! Gage, answer me!”
“I’m here. Listen, I’m leaving now, heading for Dallas. I found out Blackthorn is the one who killed Suzanna’s husband. I’ve got proof. I have to get there. If Blackthorn gets his hands on Suzanna, he’s going to kill her.”
“You’re not going without me.” Bas’ words were emphatic, brooking no argument. Gage knew he’d simply get in a car and head toward Dallas, and at least if they went together, they could come up with a plan and not rush in like bumbling fools.
“I’m already on my way. Be out front of the Big House when I get there, or I’m leaving without you.”
Disconnecting the call, he sprinted back toward his car, and headed for the Boudreau ranch, praying that he wouldn’t be too late to save Suzanna.
“Please tell meyou’re on your way home.” Her voice was filled with a high-pitched nervousness, the sound always grating on his nerves.
“I’m almost there.” Blackthorn tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, silently cursing the red light. He’d run the blasted thing if he wasn’t afraid of getting caught. They were so close to getting everything they ever wanted, he wasn’t about to let a stupid traffic signal screw things up.
“She tried to fight the drugs. But she’s out like a light now. I just can’t move her by myself.”
“What about the bodyguard?” The quiet on the other end of the phone line scared him. Please don’t let her have screwed everything up, not at this point. “Elizabeth, my love, what did you do with his body?”
She sighed. “He’s on the floor behind the credenza. That’s as far as I could drag him. The guy is huge. I gave him a double dose, which is more than enough to kill him. You’ll have to move the body once we’ve finished with Suzanna.”
“Nobody’s around to see us?” He’d given her strict instructions to give the staff the next few days off, but she’d become forgetful lately. Probably had a lot to do with the tranquilizers he’d been slipping into her nightly cocktail. She had no idea she would be joining Suzanna in eternal slumber. Taking them both out at the same time was a stroke of genius. Suzanna would die from a gunshot wound inflicted by hisdarling wife, and Elizabeth would quickly follow, overcome with remorse over killing her best friend.
Leaving Donald to roll around on the piles of money the microchips would bring in to Dawkins, Inc. All that lovely, lovely money would be his. And Dawkins, Inc. too.
Of course, he hadn’t counted on the bodyguard, but he’d rectify that problem. Steven wasn’t the only one who could think on his feet.
Steven.He’d promised Donald an equal share in the company, but he’d never fulfilled that promise. No, he’d married that blonde bimbo, and changed his will, leaving controlling interest to her. Of course, Donald would have killed him anyway once it was discovered how much money the particle light microchips would bring in. Steven already had more money than he could spend. Why should he get a larger share of the pie, or better yet, the whole pie? Donald had worked harder than anyone on this project, had been the one to find Sandoval and bring him on board. Who cared that Sandoval’s company was dirty? Enough money would change hands between Donald and Sandoval to keep Sandoval and company happy.
And Sandoval’s dirty reputation had been the impetus for Donald to devise this whole scheme of taking out Steven. Finding somebody to do the job had been easier than he’d anticipated. He’d found somebody who’d been double-crossed by Sandoval in the past and gotten the name and contact info of a bonafide killer. If anybody found out who it was, after the fact, Donald had laid the groundwork to make it look like Sandoval had hired the murderer. Nobody would suspect poor old Donald. He was too meek and frail too ever pull off anything like murdering his partner, his partner’s wife, and then his own wife.
“Donald, are you listening to me?”
“Of course, my love. I’m pulling into the drive now. We’re almost done, with nobody the wiser. Soon we’ll be richer than anybody in Dallas. You’ll see, everything is going to work exactly the way we planned.”
Climbing from the Escalade he’d bought his wife a few months ago, he opened the back, and spread the sheets of plastic, making sure to cover all the carpet. Wouldn’t want any hair or fibers for those pesky CSI types to find.
Drawing in a deep breath, he grinned. Time to get to work.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Gage had beencalling Jansen ever since they’d hit the interstate heading toward Dallas. So far all he’d managed to do was leave messages on the man’s voicemail. Bas had been trying to get hold of Ranger, with no luck. His gut told him they were walking into either a trap or a bloodbath. Since there hadn’t been anything on the news about the second option, he figured they were looking at option one.
“I don’t like this. My brother wouldn’t go radio silent. He sent that text, he knew something didn’t feel right. And he didn’t have any of the info you got from Sandoval. So help me, if Blackthorn has hurt him, he’s a dead man.”
“Stop, Bas. Donald doesn’t do his own dirty work. He’s not the type. You met him, the man’s tall, skinny, and I’d bet dollars to donuts he’s never been to a gym in his life. He couldn’t overpower somebody as big as Ranger.”
“Doesn’t matter how little he is, a bullet still gets the job done.”
Gage didn’t have a response to that, except to step down harder on the accelerator. Every mile seemed interminable, his hands clenched around the steering wheel until the knuckles turned white. The thought of Suzanna in the hands of Blackthorn made him want to punch something, preferably Blackthorn. He knew it was irrational, to care so much about somebody, but somehow, someway, Suzanna had gotten under his skin. Into his heart.
The attraction had been there from the first, though he’d fought it. He’d never allowed his heart to rule his head—not until this case—until Suzanna. Now she was in danger and he wasn’t there to protect her. All the cases he’d worked, all the dangerous situations he’d gone through, he’d never felt this overwhelming anxiety, all because he was in love.
There. He’d admitted it. He was in love with Suzanna Dawkins. If somebody told him he’d meet the woman of his dreams while investigating the murder of her husband, he’d have laughed them out of the room, saying it was too farfetched to even been one of those sappy movies women loved. Yet here is was, racing toward Dallas because he was head over heels crazy about her.
