simple. Demars will send the best he’s got to kill you. Do you have any idea what the best he’s got looks like?”
“No, but I know what George looks like, so I have a starting point.”
“If George is smart, he’ll have hitched a ride to Portland by now and be on a homebound plane by the time Demars’s hit man shows up.”
Aidan’s eyes glinted in the next fork of lightning. “You’re not factoring in Demars’s mindset, Raven. George won’t be going anywhere before that hit man shows. And it’ll be a toss-up what happens when he does.”
A false smile came and went from Steven’s lips. “I knew I should have stayed in San Francisco, just knew it.”
“And I shoulda used a porta-john,” Smith mumbled.
Raven poked a finger into Aidan’s stomach. “You can’t fight Demars alone. You know that, or you should. At least let Beckett in on what’s happening, where George is and what he’s... Oh, God, what’s that look about? What are you planning to do?”
“What you probably expect,” he replied, and couldn’t quite keep the gleam of anticipation out of his eyes. “What I should have done two years ago. I’m going to off his hit man, then hunt the faceless bastard down and end this nightmare once and for all.”
As he spoke, the wind whipped up and over the walls of Blume House. And for a single freakish moment, Aidan thought it resembled a man’s mad laughter.
* * *
I T WAS DONE . F OR BETTER or worse—and his stomach strongly suggested worse—he’d placed the call and gotten the expected response.
Alone, on the side of the road that led to Raven’s Cove, he waited. Three hours, Demars had told him in a computer-altered voice that made George’s blood run cold. Someone would be there in three short hours.
A clap of thunder sent fresh chill blades down his spine. He stood in the wind, nervous fingers snapping, his glasses askew, with tears streaming over his cheeks. He knew why he’d done it, he just didn’t know why he hadn’t thought it through better first.
When the thunder came again, he squeezed his eyes closed. But he couldn’t block the sound of Demars’s distorted voice.
“Keep her there!”
“Keep Raven here?” George had repeated, baffled. “What does she have to do with any of this?”
The reply had been swift, the distortion a shrill and horrible sound.
Keep her there!
More tears spilled. What if Demars sent the big guy? Killing was a thing he did for money. Torment and torture were his ultimate goals. And women, particularly beautiful women like Raven, provided him with the most enjoyment.
Or worse, maybe he’d send Weasel, the one with the knife. Weasel liked to cut people up, and attractive women were his favorite kind of people. Turning his face skyward, George breathed out in rapid whooshes. Until a pair of headlights cut through the gloom and he stopped breathing altogether.
The big guy drove a four-by-four, didn’t he? But Weasel might, too. Either way, the truck with the smoke-black windows and superbright headlights had pulled to a stop five feet in front of him.
Demars’s words echoed in his head. Keep her there! And now, here was one of his twisted hit men, come to Raven’s Cove to take out the man who’d killed his son.
An eye for an eye, George thought as the driver of the four-by-four waited for him to approach. He’d heard the expression recently but couldn’t remember where. Didn’t care.
He didn’t lift his head until the window opened—and a gleaming 9 mm semiautomatic gun came out to greet him.
Chapter Five
“My mother was right about Raven’s Cove.” Feeling a little as if she’d been hit with a stun gun, Raven looked over her shoulder at the fog that had begun to slither in from the ocean. “You come for a visit and bam, five minutes later, the town jumps into a rabbit hole and takes you with it.” When Aidan stopped moving, she bumped into his back. Rubbing her nose, she said, “I don’t think this is the best
“No, but I know what George looks like, so I have a starting point.”
“If George is smart, he’ll have hitched a ride to Portland by now and be on a homebound plane by the time Demars’s hit man shows up.”
Aidan’s eyes glinted in the next fork of lightning. “You’re not factoring in Demars’s mindset, Raven. George won’t be going anywhere before that hit man shows. And it’ll be a toss-up what happens when he does.”
A false smile came and went from Steven’s lips. “I knew I should have stayed in San Francisco, just knew it.”
“And I shoulda used a porta-john,” Smith mumbled.
Raven poked a finger into Aidan’s stomach. “You can’t fight Demars alone. You know that, or you should. At least let Beckett in on what’s happening, where George is and what he’s... Oh, God, what’s that look about? What are you planning to do?”
“What you probably expect,” he replied, and couldn’t quite keep the gleam of anticipation out of his eyes. “What I should have done two years ago. I’m going to off his hit man, then hunt the faceless bastard down and end this nightmare once and for all.”
As he spoke, the wind whipped up and over the walls of Blume House. And for a single freakish moment, Aidan thought it resembled a man’s mad laughter.
* * *
I T WAS DONE . F OR BETTER or worse—and his stomach strongly suggested worse—he’d placed the call and gotten the expected response.
Alone, on the side of the road that led to Raven’s Cove, he waited. Three hours, Demars had told him in a computer-altered voice that made George’s blood run cold. Someone would be there in three short hours.
A clap of thunder sent fresh chill blades down his spine. He stood in the wind, nervous fingers snapping, his glasses askew, with tears streaming over his cheeks. He knew why he’d done it, he just didn’t know why he hadn’t thought it through better first.
When the thunder came again, he squeezed his eyes closed. But he couldn’t block the sound of Demars’s distorted voice.
“Keep her there!”
“Keep Raven here?” George had repeated, baffled. “What does she have to do with any of this?”
The reply had been swift, the distortion a shrill and horrible sound.
Keep her there!
More tears spilled. What if Demars sent the big guy? Killing was a thing he did for money. Torment and torture were his ultimate goals. And women, particularly beautiful women like Raven, provided him with the most enjoyment.
Or worse, maybe he’d send Weasel, the one with the knife. Weasel liked to cut people up, and attractive women were his favorite kind of people. Turning his face skyward, George breathed out in rapid whooshes. Until a pair of headlights cut through the gloom and he stopped breathing altogether.
The big guy drove a four-by-four, didn’t he? But Weasel might, too. Either way, the truck with the smoke-black windows and superbright headlights had pulled to a stop five feet in front of him.
Demars’s words echoed in his head. Keep her there! And now, here was one of his twisted hit men, come to Raven’s Cove to take out the man who’d killed his son.
An eye for an eye, George thought as the driver of the four-by-four waited for him to approach. He’d heard the expression recently but couldn’t remember where. Didn’t care.
He didn’t lift his head until the window opened—and a gleaming 9 mm semiautomatic gun came out to greet him.
Chapter Five
“My mother was right about Raven’s Cove.” Feeling a little as if she’d been hit with a stun gun, Raven looked over her shoulder at the fog that had begun to slither in from the ocean. “You come for a visit and bam, five minutes later, the town jumps into a rabbit hole and takes you with it.” When Aidan stopped moving, she bumped into his back. Rubbing her nose, she said, “I don’t think this is the best
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