The Last Kind Word (Mac McKenzie #10)

The Last Kind Word (Mac McKenzie #10) Page 82

“One more thing.”

Brand gestured toward the Subaru. The back door opened and his thug emerged. He was holding a handgun. He pulled a woman out after him. He pressed the muzzle of the gun against her temple. In that moment I felt as if my entire body were being squeezed though a hole way too small for it.

“Hold everything, hold everything.” I was nearly screaming. “Just wait.” I pivoted to face Brand. “He has a hostage,” I spoke softly. “You’ve taken Jill as a hostage,” I said loudly. “What the hell, Brand, you’ve taken a hostage?”

“You said no one would get hurt,” the old man shouted. He was in tears. “You said my family would be all right. You promised. You promised.” He sank to his knees. I stepped next to him and rested a hand on his shoulder. It gave me the opportunity to gaze back out on Crane Lake. The two speedboats had veered off.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“What?” the old man asked. “What are you saying?”

“I said I didn’t like taking orders,” Brand said. “From now on we’re doing things my way.”

I spun toward Jill again. Her hair was disheveled, and the thin, short, low-cut nightgown she was wearing was soiled, yet there didn’t seem to be a mark on her from what I could see. She was trembling; I didn’t know if it was from fear or cold. The way she moved her bare feet, it was probably both. I stepped to the picnic blanket, grabbed two ends, and yanked it off the ground. The weapons and the rest tumbled off and clattered onto the grass and dirt. I took the blanket and walked to where Jill was standing. The thug took a step backward as I approached. The gesture was more out of respect than fear. I wrapped the blanket around Jill’s shoulders and helped her close it in front.

“They came in the morning,” she said. “Roy wasn’t there. Roy was at the cabin with you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Are you all right? Are you hurt?” I gave that last word all the meaning I could.

“They didn’t hurt me—not like that.” Jill’s eyes flitted to the thug, then back to me. “He said they wouldn’t hurt me—like that.”

How gallant of him, my inner voice said.

“I’ll get you out of this,” I told her. “I’ll get you back home. I promise.”

Jill tried to smile, only she didn’t do a very good job of it. “You did warn me, didn’t you, Dyson? You said I should leave. Why didn’t I listen?” She smiled again, still faintly.

“It’s those damn butterflies,” I said.

Jill smiled some more, but the tears forming in her eyes washed it away. “I’m so scared,” she said.

I hugged her; she mashed her face against my chest. The shuddering of her body shook both of us. I found the thug’s eyes. There were so many things I wanted to say to him. What came out was this: “From what I’ve seen, you’re the only professional in the room. I’m holding you personally responsible for her safety.”

“It’s out of my hands,” he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Dyson.” Brand was calling to me, waving his hand that I should join him. I released Jill, and she bowed her head, resting her chin against her chest. I cupped her face with my hands and kissed her forehead, just as I had wanted to do before she went on the Silver Bay raid. Yet laughter and love, I couldn’t promise that no matter how much I longed to.

“Soon,” I said. “I’ll take you home soon.”

She didn’t reply.

I moved toward where Brand was standing. The two Mexicans were still in position behind the Jeep Cherokee. My eyes went from them to James and Williams. Williams was pointing at me as if his finger were a gun. Why are they here? my inner voice wondered.

The old man was still kneeling on the ground. He had his head turned away as if he were afraid Jill would see him.

“Pick up the guns,” I told him as I passed. “Put everything in the back of the Cherokee.”

“Dyson.” His voice was the squeak of chalk on a blackboard.

“It is what it is, old man. Now do what I tell you.”

I went up to Brand, stopping far enough away that I wouldn’t be tempted to punch his smug face. It wasn’t for his safety. It was for mine. Fenelon was still behind him. He spent a lot of time staring down at his shoes. My impression was that he was even more afraid than Jill was.

I tried hard to keep my emotions in check when I spoke. “You have very bad manners, Brand. Your mother ever tell you that?”

“Now we do things my way.”

“So you said.”

“When you pull the job my man goes with.” Brand gestured with his chin toward the thug, and my inner voice told me, That’s what he meant by Jill’s safety being out of his hands. “He’s going to be with you every second of the day until you get the money. Once you do, he’ll tell you where to take it. Any questions?”

“What happens after you get the money?”

“You get the girl.”