Thirty-Six and a Half Motives
Page 100
“That’s your problem, Kate,” J.R. said. “You never know when to let something go.”
Joe suddenly dove for the gun I’d kicked toward Hilary. He rose to a squat, pointing the weapon at his father’s head. But J.R. viciously shoved his gun into my temple, making me cry out in pain.
“Stay back,” J.R. said. “Or I’ll make her suffer even more.”
“Shoot him, Joe,” I pleaded. “Even if you miss and hit me, I’d rather die here than let him do what he has planned.”
“You’re not dying tonight,” Joe said. “No one else is dying tonight.”
“Maybe one more person,” Skeeter called out before I heard another gun shot.
But J.R. had already ducked behind me, and the bullet zipped over my shoulder. Before I knew it, J.R. was on the move again, tugging me toward Henry Buchanan’s office. A new terror filled my head. If he got me in that room and locked the door, I knew I would wish I were dead.
I tried to kick him with my heel, but he stood far enough behind me to avoid contact. Grabbing a handful of my hair, he pulled me backward, using me as a human shield.
When he reached for the doorknob with the hand holding the gun, I decided it was time to try another escape. As if he could read my mind, he gave my hair a vicious jerk.
I tried to drop to my knees to avoid being pulled into the office, but his hold on my hair kept me upright. Once we were clear of the door, he shoved me hard into Henry Buchanan’s office. He slammed the door, plunging us into darkness, and I heard the click of the lock.
How was I going to get away from this maniac? Then it hit me. I could hide in the closet to buy myself some time. I had the advantage of knowing the layout of the room, and I’d bet money that J.R. hadn’t been in here for years, if ever. The factory had no electricity, so I could use the lack of lighting to my advantage. At least until he pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight.
As quietly as possible, I groped for the closet doorknob. Within seconds, I had closed myself inside of it. With any luck, he hadn’t heard me—there was enough of a racket outside the office door to cover any smaller sounds. The problem was that I didn’t know how to lock the closet door from the inside.
I took a step deeper into the closet, bumping into something in front of me—something that felt like a person. Terrified, I pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket and turned on the screen to produce a low glow. I gasped when I discovered Mason bound to an office chair with duct tape, his mouth taped shut. His eyes widened when he saw me.
“Mason,” I whispered in shock as I ripped the tape from his face.
“Rose, you have to get out of here,” he whispered, his eyes wild. “There’s a bomb.”
“What?”
“Kate set up a bomb. It was her grand finale. Go!”
I heard J.R. cursing and metal scraping the floor in the other room, as well as the muffled shouting in the warehouse.
“I can’t,” I whispered, setting the phone on a shelf before squatting in front of him to work on the tape restraining his right wrist to the chair. “J.R.’s in the other room looking for me—he’ll be here any second. How’d you get here?”
“Kate,” he whispered. “I was about to head to my meeting with the state police when she called. She said that you were in trouble here at the factory and that we couldn’t involve the police. She picked me up and brought me here.”
Which is why I didn’t see his car.
“Once we got here, I figured out you weren’t here—yet. She hit me over the head in the closet, and when I woke up, she was putting the finishing touches on my duct tape. She told me that I was going to be part of the explosive big finale. Then she closed me in here. She has enough explosives to blow this whole place up.”
Great.
The sounds in the office abruptly stopped, and my heart hurt from beating so hard.
“Rose?” J.R. called playfully on the other side of the door. “Where are you?”
I tried to work faster, but Kate had gone crazy with the duct tape. “We have to hurry.” I was on the last layer. “I still have a gun in my coat—”
As if by some cosmic joke, the door opened to reveal J.R., a wicked gleam in his eyes. A light behind him produced a glow that made him look like an angel.
The angel of death.
I gave one last tug on Mason’s tape, then stood and faced the monster.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise? Mr. Deveraux. I planned on inviting you to my own meeting, but I had no idea you were invited to this one.”
“I’m just the life of the party,” Mason said dryly.
One side of J.R.’s mouth quirked up. “Not for long.”
I moved to shield Mason’s body, hopefully hiding the fact that his right hand was now free. “He’s not part of this.”
“As Kate so eloquently said about Neely Kate, Mason Deveraux is very much a part of it. But I’ll deal with you first.”
I put my hand in my coat pocket, intending to pull out my gun, but it caught on the edge of the seam. J.R. grabbed my left arm and dragged me out of the closet before I could pull it free. He spun me around and I stumbled, my right hand reaching for something to brace myself against my impending fall. But he held me upright and slapped me, and his left palm connecting with my cheek with more force than I could have expected. My body slumped as bright white lights filled my vision.
“Rose!” Mason shouted behind me. “Leave her alone, Simmons! I was the one who filed charges against you. I was the one who came up with a plan to put you away forever. If you want to punish someone, punish me.”
“Not to worry,” J.R. said good-naturedly. “You’re next.” Then he slapped me again.
I fell to the floor this time, my ears ringing. The shouting and noise on the other side of the door dimmed. Even Mason’s shouting faded as J.R. hit me several more times, using his fists this time. An inky blackness hung at the end of my vision, and I knew I was about to pass out, which would mean certain death. And then he would win.
Again.
But I refused. I refused to let him hurt the people I loved. I refused to let him hurt anyone else. Ever. I never questioned if I would live. My only goal was to get the gun out of my pocket and stop him. To end this.
Only I couldn’t even reach my pocket, let alone get out the gun. He was holding my right arm, using it to keep me in place as he hit me with his right fist. Then he laughed and released his hold as I fell to the floor, face-first.
Joe suddenly dove for the gun I’d kicked toward Hilary. He rose to a squat, pointing the weapon at his father’s head. But J.R. viciously shoved his gun into my temple, making me cry out in pain.
“Stay back,” J.R. said. “Or I’ll make her suffer even more.”
“Shoot him, Joe,” I pleaded. “Even if you miss and hit me, I’d rather die here than let him do what he has planned.”
“You’re not dying tonight,” Joe said. “No one else is dying tonight.”
“Maybe one more person,” Skeeter called out before I heard another gun shot.
But J.R. had already ducked behind me, and the bullet zipped over my shoulder. Before I knew it, J.R. was on the move again, tugging me toward Henry Buchanan’s office. A new terror filled my head. If he got me in that room and locked the door, I knew I would wish I were dead.
I tried to kick him with my heel, but he stood far enough behind me to avoid contact. Grabbing a handful of my hair, he pulled me backward, using me as a human shield.
When he reached for the doorknob with the hand holding the gun, I decided it was time to try another escape. As if he could read my mind, he gave my hair a vicious jerk.
I tried to drop to my knees to avoid being pulled into the office, but his hold on my hair kept me upright. Once we were clear of the door, he shoved me hard into Henry Buchanan’s office. He slammed the door, plunging us into darkness, and I heard the click of the lock.
How was I going to get away from this maniac? Then it hit me. I could hide in the closet to buy myself some time. I had the advantage of knowing the layout of the room, and I’d bet money that J.R. hadn’t been in here for years, if ever. The factory had no electricity, so I could use the lack of lighting to my advantage. At least until he pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight.
As quietly as possible, I groped for the closet doorknob. Within seconds, I had closed myself inside of it. With any luck, he hadn’t heard me—there was enough of a racket outside the office door to cover any smaller sounds. The problem was that I didn’t know how to lock the closet door from the inside.
I took a step deeper into the closet, bumping into something in front of me—something that felt like a person. Terrified, I pulled my phone out of my jeans pocket and turned on the screen to produce a low glow. I gasped when I discovered Mason bound to an office chair with duct tape, his mouth taped shut. His eyes widened when he saw me.
“Mason,” I whispered in shock as I ripped the tape from his face.
“Rose, you have to get out of here,” he whispered, his eyes wild. “There’s a bomb.”
“What?”
“Kate set up a bomb. It was her grand finale. Go!”
I heard J.R. cursing and metal scraping the floor in the other room, as well as the muffled shouting in the warehouse.
“I can’t,” I whispered, setting the phone on a shelf before squatting in front of him to work on the tape restraining his right wrist to the chair. “J.R.’s in the other room looking for me—he’ll be here any second. How’d you get here?”
“Kate,” he whispered. “I was about to head to my meeting with the state police when she called. She said that you were in trouble here at the factory and that we couldn’t involve the police. She picked me up and brought me here.”
Which is why I didn’t see his car.
“Once we got here, I figured out you weren’t here—yet. She hit me over the head in the closet, and when I woke up, she was putting the finishing touches on my duct tape. She told me that I was going to be part of the explosive big finale. Then she closed me in here. She has enough explosives to blow this whole place up.”
Great.
The sounds in the office abruptly stopped, and my heart hurt from beating so hard.
“Rose?” J.R. called playfully on the other side of the door. “Where are you?”
I tried to work faster, but Kate had gone crazy with the duct tape. “We have to hurry.” I was on the last layer. “I still have a gun in my coat—”
As if by some cosmic joke, the door opened to reveal J.R., a wicked gleam in his eyes. A light behind him produced a glow that made him look like an angel.
The angel of death.
I gave one last tug on Mason’s tape, then stood and faced the monster.
“Well, isn’t this a surprise? Mr. Deveraux. I planned on inviting you to my own meeting, but I had no idea you were invited to this one.”
“I’m just the life of the party,” Mason said dryly.
One side of J.R.’s mouth quirked up. “Not for long.”
I moved to shield Mason’s body, hopefully hiding the fact that his right hand was now free. “He’s not part of this.”
“As Kate so eloquently said about Neely Kate, Mason Deveraux is very much a part of it. But I’ll deal with you first.”
I put my hand in my coat pocket, intending to pull out my gun, but it caught on the edge of the seam. J.R. grabbed my left arm and dragged me out of the closet before I could pull it free. He spun me around and I stumbled, my right hand reaching for something to brace myself against my impending fall. But he held me upright and slapped me, and his left palm connecting with my cheek with more force than I could have expected. My body slumped as bright white lights filled my vision.
“Rose!” Mason shouted behind me. “Leave her alone, Simmons! I was the one who filed charges against you. I was the one who came up with a plan to put you away forever. If you want to punish someone, punish me.”
“Not to worry,” J.R. said good-naturedly. “You’re next.” Then he slapped me again.
I fell to the floor this time, my ears ringing. The shouting and noise on the other side of the door dimmed. Even Mason’s shouting faded as J.R. hit me several more times, using his fists this time. An inky blackness hung at the end of my vision, and I knew I was about to pass out, which would mean certain death. And then he would win.
Again.
But I refused. I refused to let him hurt the people I loved. I refused to let him hurt anyone else. Ever. I never questioned if I would live. My only goal was to get the gun out of my pocket and stop him. To end this.
Only I couldn’t even reach my pocket, let alone get out the gun. He was holding my right arm, using it to keep me in place as he hit me with his right fist. Then he laughed and released his hold as I fell to the floor, face-first.
