Endgame (Last Chance Series) (33 page)

She frowned, trying to understand what one thing had to do with the other. "Are you all right, Kingston?"

He didn't look well at all
, one hand clutching the bookshelf, the other stuffed in his pocket. Her gaze automatically followed the line of his arm, locking in place on the familiar bulge in the immaculate Armani blazer.

A
gun
.

Before her body could react to the emphatic signal from her brain, he pulled out his hand, the silencer-clad .38 sending the message full stop. "I'm not all right at all, Madison. But in a few moments,
I will be."

GABRIEL TOOK THE CORNER on two wheels, then ground to a halt behind a long line of waiting cars. He cursed under his breath, wishing he had a siren or something to clear the way, knowing that even that wouldn't necessarily be enough to break up a traffic jam in the city.

He wasn't certain what he'd find at Madison's, but the fact that her father was in Europe combined with Nigel's information about her possibly being a target had sent him running after her. Or more precisely slugging along in Cullen's Maserati in rush-hour traffic. He banged a hand on the steering wheel, almost rear-ending a taxi.

He'd tried her cell phone and her home phone, and she wasn't answering. He'd even talked to the personnel in her building, but to no avail. Payton was working to try and get someone up there, but in the meantime, even if it turned out to be a wild-goose chase, he couldn't sit still and take the risk that something could be wrong.

Except that sitting is
exactly what he was doing—along with apparently half of New York City. With another curse, this one not mumbled, he dodged another taxi and pulled into the far lane and up to the curb, blatantly ignoring the posted no-parking sign. He'd never been one for rules anyway. And right now his gut was screaming that Madison was in trouble.

Nothing else really mattered.

Slamming the car into park, he leaped from it, barely stopping to turn off the engine. Patting his jeans pocket to be certain he had the set of keys Cullen had given him, he set out toward Seventy-second on a run.

His cell phone rang as Gabriel rounded the corner onto First, and after five insistent rounds of the
Lone Ranger
, he slid to a stop, fumbling in his pocket for the damn phone.

"Roarke." He knew he was
yelling, but his irritation was fueled by fear.

"It's Harrison." To his credit Madison's friend sounded as worried as Gabe did. Maybe more so.

Gabe sucked in a breath, and fought for control of his voice. "Did you find her?"

"No." Harrison sounded apologetic, and he rushed to finish before Gabe could hang up. "Look, I don't know how this will impact things, but I thought you should go up there armed with all the facts."

"What did you find out?" Gabe started to walk again, his pace just short of a run, still intent on reaching Madison.

"I found the link we were looking for. The CEO of Bluemax was Kingston Sinclair's son. I don't know if that makes Kingston our killer or not, but I though
t you ought to know."

"I thought you said the man's name was something else."

"It was. Apparently he used his mother's name. There's not a lot there. Father and son were estranged for years, but rumor has it that Kingston helped with the funding for Bluemax. That's how I tracked it down initially—" Harrison stopped suddenly as someone grabbed the phone.

"Gabriel?" Payton's voice was just this side of alarmed. "You need to hurry. I sent the NYPD to Kingston's and he's not there, but they found the sniper rifle. And
, at least on surface examination, it fits the ballistics for Jeremy's murder. I don't know where he is, but if he's at Madison's she could be in trouble. We're on the way. But you're closer."

Gabriel started to run again, still clutching the phone, not bothering to hang up. Three blocks to go—he just prayed there was still time. He'd only just found her, and he'd be damned if he was going to lose her now.

*****

"I TRIED TO DO THIS BEFORE, you know. Twice in fact." His eyes were slightly unfocused, the sheen of sweat on his brow indicating he wasn't as calm as he'd have her believe.

"What do you mean?" She asked, playing for time, trying to figure out how to get to the foyer and her gun.

"The first time was in the operations room. Do you remember? I closed the blinds. I intended to do it then, but that computer boy interrupted." He frowned, and took a step toward her, and she forced herself to hold her ground. "But I heard you say you were going to Jeremy's. So I followed you there, and waited in the apartment across the way. It should have gone down easy, but you moved faster than I'd expected. And then Gabriel Roarke showed up." He spat the name out as if it tasted bitter. "You're a lucky girl. But I'm afraid your luck has finally run out."

"Your son was the CEO of Bluemax. That's why you killed the others. An eye for an eye." It was all starting to make perfect sense—in an insane kind of way. But then that was the type of mind Madison was used to dealing with.

"Right answer, wrong quotation.
The gods visit the sins of the fathers upon the children
. Euripides. They took my son, so I took theirs."

"But why me? My father had nothing to do with Vrycom." As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew the answer. "Cullen. This is about Cullen, isn't it?"

Kingston shrugged. "He has no children, but he loves you like a daughter. The loss will be as great."

"But it won't bring back your son."

His eyes hardened, clarity returning with a vengeance. "No, it won't. But I can at least assuage my anger and exact a bit of revenge."

"Like you did with the others." She was staring down the barrel of a gun, and still she wanted a confession. If the situation hadn't been so dire, she'd have laughed.

"I killed them all. And I wouldn't have been discovered if it hadn't been for Cullen's meddling. That's when I decided to bring you in. Make things a little more personal. I was the one who convinced Cullen that you should be a part of his famous Last Chance team. And I was the one who kept them running in circles."

"With a
little inside help. Did you know about Nigel?"

His smile was slow. "Nice bit, that
. At first I didn't know who it was. But then when I realized where his loyalties lay, it made sense. And quite honestly, I couldn't have recruited a better partner. Poor bastard had no idea how much he was helping me."

"You killed Schmidt."

"Yes. I had to. If you'd found him alive, he'd have screamed his innocence, and with a little digging you'd have been able to verify the fact. It wasn't part of the plan, but I couldn't afford to take the chance."

"But in killing him
, you risked discovery."

"Believe me, my dear, no one on your
little team is going to connect the dots. It's too obscure."

"Gabriel will figure it all out. He's close to the truth now. He'll catch you in the end."

"Doesn't matter to me. All I ever wanted was to avenge my son. And with your death, I'll have completed the task."

He leveled the gun, and she heard the click as he sent a bullet to the chamber, the sound indicating that she had mere seconds to move. The obvious thing was to dive fo
r cover, but then she'd still have the disadvantage of his being armed and her not. Her weapon was still lying in the foyer, the fifteen feet or so she'd have to travel to retrieve it a death trap.

Better to immobilize the threat. And it was now or never.

Without waiting to analyze further, she dived for Kingston, feeling a bullet tip through her shoulder before she even heard the hissed report. As she crashed into him, she swung her arm upward trying to dislodge the gun.

They fell to the ground, each struggling for control, and Madison grabbed his right wrist, slamming it hard on the floor. The gun, finally freed, spun off to the left, and slid under the open drapes. Not much help, but at least it leveled the playing field.

Kingston was surprisingly fit for a man his age, his maneuvering a sign that he'd studied martial arts somewhere along the way. Wrapping his arm around her neck, he managed to lever them both to their feet, her body locked against his.

Swinging backward with her left leg, she hooked it around his knee, simultaneously swinging her elbow back into his diaphragm. The quick release of breath signaled that she'd hurt him, and she took full advantage of the moment, twisting free, scrambling toward the window and the gun.

But Kingston was faster, grabbing her hair and yanking her back to her feet, his fist making contact with her chin. Her vision swam for a moment, but she managed to turn and get in a blow of her own, the contact sending her adrenaline rushing.

Locked together, they did a macabre dance around the living room, each of them trying to maneuver toward the gun lying beneath the drapes. She tried again to bring him to his knees, but he twisted his hands in her hair, yanking back her head with enough force to make her dizzy.

Ignoring the pain in her head and shoulder, she kicked out again, making contact with his knee. The pop was audible, and he screamed in pain, falling backward, his hold on her tightening as he continued to fall.

Their combined weight shattered the window and Kingston slid through the broken glass, pulling her with h
im. For a moment she felt weightless, and then as she grabbed for a handhold on the windowsill, Kingston's body pulled taut as his fall was broken by his grasp on her calves.

The pain in her shoulder was searing, and her left hand slipped, causing her to list to the right. Kingston's grip loosened
slightly with the surprise of the movement, and she took advantage of the fact, regaining her grasp on the window and kicking her legs against his hold.

One hand released her, and closing her eyes in concentration she slammed her right leg against
the side of the building, taking his hand with her. He yelped in pain but held firm, his other hand trying to find purchase. Again she swung her legs, this time both of them, the impact against the building sending shards of hot pain searing through her body.

But the result was worth it. Kingston screamed again and then released her, the relief of the reduced weight on her arms making her feel suddenly stronger. Holding herself as still as possible, she looked down in time to see him shatter the atrium window below, his body impaling itself on the point of the statuary adorning the fountain.

Kingston Sinclair was dead.

And unless she found a way to get herself back over the sill, she was going to follow suit. Her shoulder was strained beyond the point of endurance, and she could feel the muscle beginning to shake, the fingers of her left hand starting to go numb.

She tried to pull herself upward, but her left arm simply wasn't following her brain's command. She could see people moving in the gym below, but by the time they reached her it would be too late.

There were no balconies on this side of the building. Nothing protruding that might serve as a ledge to break her fall. The windows on either side of her were closed tightly and probably too far away to reach even if they were open.

The cold wind whistled around the building, and she felt her hand start to give way. She was out of options, and the only thing she could think about was the fact that she wouldn't see Gabriel again. Wouldn't be able to make things right, to make certain he understood how very much she loved him.

Her left hand slipped farther, the bulk of her weight now pulling against her right hand. She swallowed her fear, knowing that it was an enemy, and that if she was going to use these last few moments productively she had to keep a clear head.

Fear helped her hang on longer than she'd have thought possible, but she could feel the blood dripping down her arm, and knew that her left arm was soon going to be completely useless, and that her right arm simply wasn't capable of supporting her entire body as she hung from the sill.

People were screaming below her now, pointing upward, watching with the horrified fascination that comes from realizing the inevitable and knowing there is nothing one could do about it.

She gave one last attempt at getting her left hand to perform, the fingers responding to the effort by releasing the sill altogether.

She wanted to continue fighting, but she simply didn't have the strength....

Something grabbed her free hand, her heart registering the reality before her brain, and she shot a look upward, expecting angels but finding Gabriel instead.

He grasped both of her wrists, the determination on his face beyond anything she'd ever seen. "Hang on," he mouthed and began to inch her upward. Her brain finally clued in to the situation, and using her feet
, she helped him "walk" her up the wall, until she was halfway in the window, and with a final jerk, he pulled her over the sill and onto the floor.

Their hearts beat in tandem as Madison enjoyed the simple act of breathing, not even the pain in her arms and shoulder dimming the pleasure of the process.

"You all right?" Gabriel had rolled over to cradle her in his arms, his hands stroking and exploring, trying to assess the damage.

She nodded, smiling up at him, content for the moment just to be in his arms. "I thought you'd never get here."

His smile was crooked and endearing, the love in his eyes humbling and exciting all at the same time. "I thought you didn't want my help."

"I guess I changed my mind." She leaned up to kiss him, savoring the feel of his
lips against hers, knowing that, no matter the obstacles, they belonged together.

Now and for always.