Guarding the Socialite (18 page)

Dillon went to find Sanford and Emma trailed behind him. They found the agent in the makeshift command center in the kitchen. He looked up as they entered.

“Good. We've got something,” Sanford said, looking to them both. “Isaac West seemed clean as a whistle on the surface but when we dug a little deeper into his history we found some interesting things. Seems fifteen years ago he was a suspect in his wife's disappearance. A body was never found so the case was tucked away in the cold-case files, and I'm guessing because of his money and connections, the case was conveniently forgotten.”

“I never knew he was married,” Emma murmured. “I never even thought to ask.”

“Likely he wouldn't have told you the truth anyway. The case wasn't local. It originated in Colorado,” Sanford said.

Dillon turned to Sanford. “Here's something else. He owns an abandoned house on Springfield Drive under the name West Ventures. I think you ought to have someone take a look.”

Sanford nodded. “I was just thinking the same thing. Anything else?” Dillon shook his head and Sanford snapped into action, leaving Dillon and Emma alone for the moment.

The midnight hour was approaching. He could feel the passage of time as if it were being scratched into his skin. Moving to Emma, he said, “Let's go upstairs and get you changed. As much I enjoy the view of you in this incredible dress…I think you might feel more comfortable in something a little less…revealing.”

She seemed to have forgotten her attire completely, for when Dillon made mention of her dress, she actually glanced down and her eyes widened. “Goodness, you're right. I need to change. Will you walk with me?”

“Of course.”

She offered a wan smile in gratitude and his heart contracted at the sight. He'd do anything to clear the pain and fear from her eyes and lift her spirits from the dungeon of black thoughts no doubt running around in her head.

Once upstairs, Emma disappeared into her bedroom and Dillon did a security check out of habit. After ensuring that no one was hiding in a closet or under the spare bed, he wandered to the window and peered outside. He saw nothing but total darkness. The absence of anything suspicious didn't settle his nerves. He knew until they had Bella and Emma safe, nothing would.

She came from her room and tucked herself into a corner of the sofa. Resting her chin on her raised knees, she looked young and scared. Dillon went and sat beside her. He wasn't sure what to say or whether she wanted to hear anything so he simply offered her quiet companionship. He wanted to tell her he knew this waiting was a special kind of hell. He understood her pain and would do anything to take it away.
He hoped she knew that but he didn't want to burden the moment with unnecessary words between them.

But it was Emma who spoke first. “From the moment I first met you, I felt something for you. It was something I didn't want to feel or acknowledge, but it was there. I'd like to say that it was simply circumstances that pushed me into your arms that night but I think I might've ended up there eventually. I've wanted you from the beginning.”

In the face of that stark honesty, Dillon responded in kind. “Everything you just said, I felt the same. You knocked me over with your grace and quiet beauty and I don't regret a minute spent with you.” He took her hand in his and searched her sad blue eyes. “But why are you telling me this now? Is this a goodbye? Some kind of closure in case things go bad and you don't come back?”

She looked away and answered in a whisper. “Maybe.”

He pulled her to him and she went willingly. “Stop. We're going to figure this out. Don't start saying your goodbyes. I'm not ready to hear them.”

She snuggled in closer and clung to him. He realized as he stroked her damp hair and murmured soft words of comfort against her crown, he might never be ready for goodbye. Not from her. Not ever.

And the realization did nothing but make him want to bundle her up and take her far, far away, even if she fought him tooth and nail, because the thought of her in danger made his heart pound with fear and he couldn't stand it.

But because he couldn't do what he wanted to do, he simply held her and hoped for a miracle.

B
ella pulled her wrist free, biting back the groan of the excruciating pain caused by the constant grinding against the rope, and wiggled her other hand free. A rush of blood to her extremities felt like daggers poking at her but she had little time to cry over the pain. She ripped her gag free and as quickly as her wrist would allow, she managed to untie the knots at her feet. Kicking the rope loose, she froze when she heard a noise at the back of the house, her heart leaping into her mouth as the unmistakable sound of footsteps came her way. Inching her way up the wall, she tried to find something to use as a weapon. Her grasping fingers stumbled on something hard and she picked it up. It felt like a brick or a rock of some sort. It would have to do, she thought with desperation.

A bobbing light, consistent with an electric lamp, came her way and as she recognized the man, she swung as hard as she could, smashing the brick into the side of his head
before he even knew she was hiding against the darkened wall. He fell with a strangled yelp, and Bella bolted from the room, blind and lost, but she followed the way she'd seen him coming from. She saw a door and ran for it. She slammed against the door and twisted the door handle only to find it locked.
God, no,
she thought in blind panic.
Help me!

A fist grabbed her by the hair and jerked her away from the door. She managed one good scream before he cut off her airway with his forearm.

“You shouldn't have done that,” he said against her ear as she struggled to get free but his grip felt like iron across her windpipe. “Now you're going to have to be punished. Say nighty-night Baby Bella…. Daddy is going to put you to bed.”

Bella struggled as he dragged her away from freedom…away from her chance at getting out of there alive, but her strength wasn't enough to overpower her attacker and she squeezed her eyes shut against the fear pounding behind her breastbone as she fought for each breath.

 

Emma was dressed and ready. Dillon seemed ready to kill something. She tried not to look his way. She didn't want to chicken out. Bella needed her. They'd find a way to save them both.

As they entered the kitchen, Sanford and his team were heading out.

“What's going on?” she asked in alarm, her worst fears coming to roost in her head. “Is it Bella? Oh, my God, it's not time yet for the drop-off!”

Sanford stopped her, saying, “We've had a disturbance call in the Springfield Drive area. San Francisco P.D. reported a woman screaming. Our guy out there heard it, too, but needs backup. We'll call if we find anything. Until then, stay put.”

Emma swallowed but nodded. “Please let this be the break we need,” she whispered as the agents filed from the house and took off. She looked to Dillon. “I'm so scared.”

“It's going to be all right,” he murmured, though his expression said something different, and she had to hold back a frightened sob. What if they didn't find Bella in time? Maybe she ought to go to the drop-off spot just in case the disturbance was unrelated. Her thoughts must've scrolled across her face for Dillon shook his head. “Don't even think about leaving. You're going to stay put even if I have to sit on you. You're safer here.”

“What about Bella?”

“We have to trust.”

“I don't have the luxury of trust right now,” she retorted bitterly.

“I know,” he acknowledged with a grim set to his jaw. “I know.”

 

Isaac dropped Bella's limp body to the floor and hastened to the window. He swore under his breath when he saw cops approaching. The bitch's screams must've caused someone to call the authorities. He glanced at Bella with regret. He'd been looking forward to playing with baby Bella. But he didn't have time any longer. His plans were ruined. Time to reevaluate. But he wasn't worried—he had a contingency plan.

He slipped out the back door and disappeared into the night.

 

Although the agents were gone, there was a uniformed officer keeping watch outside. Dillon was upstairs checking the windows and doors and Emma felt the overwhelming need for some tea.

Returning to the kitchen, she had only just put the kettle
to boil when she heard a strange sound. She turned but saw nothing. Still, shivers caused goose pimples to riot across her forearms until she rubbed at them vigorously. She was jumping at the slightest sound, she thought darkly.

Upstairs she could hear Dillon walking across the hall, checking with each boarder, and she smiled at his diligence. As she turned to grab a mug, she came face-to-face with Isaac West.

She opened her mouth to scream but Isaac pulled a black snub-nosed revolver from his jacket pocket. He pressed a finger against his lips as he pointed the gun right at her heart. “Shh…mustn't wake the others. It's been a very busy night,” he said with the same warm smile she'd come to know from him, but suddenly it took on a totally different context. His smile no longer appeared warm but sickly and twisted. “I will kill you if I must but know in my heart of hearts, killing you is not my desire. You're different from the others. The one I've been waiting for. I'd hoped you'd come to me willingly but I see now that others have prevented you from doing so. Come, my lovely, we've a plane to catch.”

“I'm not leaving with you, Isaac,” she said, trying for calm. “Where is Bella?”

“She is safe,” he answered. “Come, I will take you to her.”

“Where?” she asked, buying time. “Tell me where she is so I know she's safe. She's just a child, Isaac. Surely you don't want to hurt a young girl.”

He scoffed gently. “A child? Hardly. The moment she allowed men to pay her for sex she ceased to be a child, my dear. But that's what I love about you. The ability to see beyond a person's flaws to the beauty beneath. That's how I knew we'd be perfect for one another. As you may have discovered, I've certain proclivities that others may find distasteful. But you know that I'm more than that.
I'm not a monster. Iris House is just one of many charities and foundations I give generously to. We can continue, but as a couple. It's a wonderful plan, but I must confess this place has worn out its charm and I'm ready to move on. Now, darling—” he waved the gun at her “—we must be going.”

The man was insane. How had she not seen this side of him before now? “You need help,” she said, trying to appeal to the logical side that had to be in that rotten brain of his somewhere. “If you tell us where Bella is—”

“My patience is wearing thin, my love,” Isaac said, his tone getting ugly. “Don't make me do something I'll regret. Now move.”

Emma had two choices. Go with him and quite possibly die or scream and hope Dillon could get to her before Isaac shot her. Either way…death was imminent.

But perhaps if she went with him he would take her to Bella. “Promise me you'll take me to Bella,” she said, lifting her chin, forcing an image of strength before her knees went out on her and destroyed the whole effect.

“Of course,” he snapped. “Let's
go.
”

 

Dillon listened from the hallway as sweat trickled down his temple. Isaac West was in the house with Emma.

And Dillon was without his gun.

Stealth and the element of surprise were his only advantages, but as he surveyed the situation, that didn't seem like enough. Since West came to Emma instead of waiting for her to come to him, that must mean that the house the agents were raiding at that moment was the right one. And hopefully Bella was there. He had to believe that was the case, because right now, he had to focus on Emma. Slowly pulling his cell phone, he texted a quick message to Sanford, hoping he got it in time to radio the uniform outside.

He followed the voices outside and slid into the shadows. The uniform stepped into view, his gun trained on Isaac West.

“What is this?” West bluffed, acting affronted. “My good man, put away that gun before I blow a hole in this beautiful lady. You don't want that on your conscience. Imagine the nightmares you'll have, reliving the moment each time you close your eyes. Trust me, you don't have what it takes to weather that kind of hell every night. Do yourself a favor and let us keep walking.”

“I can't do that, sir. Please put down your weapon,” the uniform responded with a subtle shake to his voice. Dillon swore silently. The uniform was probably fresh out of the academy, assigned to a job his superiors thought was going to be a glorified babysitting gig. Gun or no, Dillon was going to have to take his chances.

Dillon surveyed his surroundings to find the best vantage point and moved into position. He was directly behind West. There was a good chance he was going to get shot. But he was willing to take the risk.

With a short prayer of desperation, he sprang behind West, shoving Emma to the ground before tackling West. A bullet grazed his arm and seared a path of pain across his shoulder, but he had his hands full with West as he struggled with the man. The uniform seemed frozen to the spot until Dillon grunted, “Get Emma out of here!” Then he rushed to Emma's side and pulled her to safety.

Time to end this, you bloody bastard.
Dillon reared back and punched West in the face, bloodying his nose and possibly breaking the orbital bones in his eyes. Although the man seemed subdued, Dillon wasn't taking chances and punched him again. Grabbing the semiconscious man by the collar he said in a harsh tone, “That was for Charlotte and Ursula and all the other girls you butchered.” Then he
leaned in closer and whispered for West's ears alone, “And if you'd laid a hand on Emma…you'd be dead right now.”

West gurgled what sounded like laughter and Dillon had to restrain himself. Perhaps it was a good thing he didn't have his gun, because right now, he had an itchy trigger finger. “Officer,” he called out. “Come cuff this piece of shit and put him in the car.”

The uniform rushed over and did as Dillon instructed, his young face pale in the moonlight. Jerking West to his feet, the man looked to Dillon. “Thanks. I kinda froze,” he admitted shamefully, gesturing to the wound seeping blood from Dillon's shoulder. “And I didn't mean to shoot at you. I'll radio for EMS.”

Dillon waved away his thanks and the offer. “It happens, kid. We all have those moments we wish we could do over differently. Don't let it eat at you. Now put that POS away before he stinks up the place.”

“You got it.” The officer pushed West to the car and locked him in. Dillon knew he'd radio for backup. He turned to Emma; she had shock written all over her face.

“It was Isaac West,” she said numbly. “I never imagined…I'd hoped we were wrong. I thought he was such a good man. Now I don't know what to believe about anyone.”

Dillon knew that feeling. Going to her, he said, “Let's go inside and see about that tea. Tea and a biscuit does wonders for the disposition.”

She nodded, but he could tell she was on autopilot. He just hoped to God Bella was okay. Otherwise, he didn't know if Emma would come out of this funk.