Holdin' On for a Hero (37 page)

Maurice looked as if he were about to erupt. His face was red and veins stood out in his forehead. Greg looked from him to Winston, then at Chance. “Just what’re you talking about?”

She turned and looked at him, then glanced at his father. Winston was watching her with an anxious expression. She turned to Greg. “You mean you don’t know? I’m surprised. I thought you and your father were so close. And yet now I find that you’re not so close as you thought. No, in fact, he’s been keeping the most important part of all this from you—the reason he’s doing all this.”

Greg watched her expectantly as she paused and took a seat on the couch, facing the door. “Pay her no attention,” Winston scoffed. “She’s trying to pull your chain, boy. Trying to rattle you, that’s all.”

Chance laughed softly and Greg looked from her to his father. “So what it is she thinks she knows?” he asked. “If it’s nothing then why—”

“Excuse me,” the butler stepped into the room. “Master Greg, there’s a lady here who insists on seeing you. I tried to tell her that you are—”

“Get out of my way!” Iris Waters brushed by the butler and marched into the room. “Well, well, it looks like the gang’s all here.” She smiled like a cat who had cornered a canary.

Greg immediately crossed the room to stand beside her. “Dad, this is Iris Waters, the woman I’ve been telling you about. Iris, this is my father, Winston Holling, and his business associate Maurice Davenport. Oh, and that’s Maurice’s daughter—”

“Chance,” Iris interrupted him. “Yes, we’ve met.”

She turned away before Chance could speak and looked at Holling. “I’m so glad to finally meet you in person, Mr. Holling.”

Winston walked over and shook her hand. “Ms. Waters. I’m pleased to meet you as well, however, this is something of an inconvenient time, if you’ll excuse me for being blunt. Maurice and I have some business we have to attend to and we really don’t have time for social—”

“I know all about your business.”

Winston looked from her to Greg in surprise. Greg put his arm around Iris’ waist. “She’s been helping me. In fact, if it weren’t for Iris we wouldn’t have been able to get the jump on—”

Chance bounded across the room before Greg could finish. “So you have been helping them! Just exactly what kind of help have you been giving them, Ms. Waters?”

Iris smiled smugly at Chance and stepped around her to walk over to Maurice who was standing silently on the other side of the room. “Maurice Davenport,” Iris said as she looked him over. “Well, we meet at last.”

Maurice’s eyes were narrowed as he looked at her. “Have we met before? You look very familiar.”

“Do I?” Iris raised one eyebrow then turned away. “Well, as I said, I do know all about your trouble with the Wolfes. As a matter of fact, I’m positively intimate with the entire affair, wouldn’t you say, Chance?”

“Why?” Winston suddenly asked.

Everyone’s attention was on Maurice except Chance, who was staring fixedly at Iris.

“Why what?” Iris asked.

“Why are you interested in what’s going on?” Winston asked Iris. “What’s in it for you? Has my son promised you something?”

Iris smiled and cut her eyes at Maurice. “Let’s just say I’m honoring a promise I made to my mother a long time ago.”

“Your mother?” Winston exclaimed. “What in the world does your mother have to do with anything? Who exactly is your mother, anyway? Do I know her? Have we had business dealings—”

The rest of his questions were cut off as one of his men entered the room. “We can’t keep the old man in the barn. Short of killing him, that is. Every time we turn our backs he gets untied and we have to chase him down. What do you want us to do?”

Winston looked at Maurice who was still staring at Iris with a perplexed expression on his face. Chance looked at her father and noticed as well. Then she looked at Iris who was smiling as if she were holding all the cards in a poker game. Suddenly it all clicked into place. All of the things Tsa’li and John had told her made sense. She knew who Iris was.

“Goddamn Indians,” Winston grumbled. Then he looked at Maurice. “I think it’s time we settled our business with Tsa’li once and for all. Come on.” He looked at the man who held the gun on John. “Bring him!” Next he looked at Iris. “If you’ll excuse us, Ms. Waters, Maurice and I need to borrow Greg for a little while. Make yourself comfortable, have a drink.”

“Why don’t I accompany you?” she suggested.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Greg spoke up. “After all, she’s been instrumental in helping us get this far. Let her be in on the end.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Maurice argued. “She can stay here until we’ve finished.”

“I think she should go,” Chance said. “She should be with you when Wyatt finds you. After all she was so instrumental in your little plans. I know how much that’s going to mean to him.”

Winston snorted and looked at Maurice. “This is ridiculous. Get your loud-mouthed daughter and bring her with us. We can’t take a chance on her trying to escape.” He turned to Greg. “You want your lady friend with you? Fine, then bring her. But remember this, both of you. You’re as much a part of this as anyone and if you try to use any of this against us, you’ll end up just like Wolfe. You got it?”

Greg shrugged and looked at Iris. “Why, I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said sweetly. “Shall we?”

Maurice took Chance’s arm as everyone started out of the room but she jerked away from him. “Don’t touch me.”

He didn’t say anything or attempt to take her arm again. In silence they all went outside and made their way to the rear of the estate to a large barn. Men were posted at every corner of the structure with additional patrols roaming the grounds. Winston nodded to the man stationed at the door and the man stepped aside for them to enter.

As soon as Chance walked in she saw Tsa’li sitting with his back against one of the stalls. She ran to him. His hands were tied behind his back and his feet were lashed together. Immediately she started to untie him.

“Stop!” Winston shouted at her.

She whirled around and looked at him. “Or what? Are you so afraid of two unarmed men, Mr. Holling? You’ve got your army posted around this whole damn place and you’re still afraid. What do you think they’re going to do?”

“Forget it.” Maurice put his hand on Winston’s arm as Winston started toward Chance.

She turned her attention back to Tsa’li. “Are you okay?”

He nodded and rubbed his wrists. “They left a note for Wyatt. They are setting a trap for him.”

“I know. Are you sure they didn’t hurt you?”

He shook his head. “They would not dare. Without me they cannot find that which they seek.”

Chance’s eyes met his. She knew what he was talking about. Winston and Maurice wanted the crystal.

When he was untied she stood and faced their adversaries. “Unless you have a death wish, you’ll let us go. Wyatt’s coming and there’s nothing you can do to stop him. No one has to die. Just let us go.”

“When hell freezes over.” Greg laughed and looked at Iris. “Right, honey?”

“Right, lover,” she crooned then looked at Chance. “You all deserve to die and that’s exactly what’s going to happen. Your brave warrior can come but he won’t get here soon enough. By the time he does all he’ll find is your dead bodies.”

Gunfire came from outside the barn and everyone jerked in surprise. Greg ordered one of his men to go outside and check it out then shoved John over to stand beside Tsa’li and Chance. “Keep your gun on them,” he ordered another man. “If any of them twitches, shoot them.”

The man who had been sent outside ran back in. “There’s a mob of Indians at the rear of the estate. Our boys are holding them off but they don’t know how long they can keep it up. What’d you want us to do?”

Greg cut his eyes over at Maurice before answering. “Call the men posted at the east gate and have them back up the guys in the rear. If the red-skins won’t give up, kill ‘em.”

The man left again and Greg turned around. Iris and Chance were staring at one another hatefully.

“Marisa, why are you doing this?” Chance was the first to break the silence. “Your fight isn’t with us, it’s with them.” She gestured at Winston and Maurice.

“What did you call me?” Iris’ face reddened as it twisted into an ugly visage of rage. She whirled to look at Greg. “Kill that bitch! Kill her!”

“In due time,” Winston barked.

Iris turned on him with an enraged expression but Greg took her arm and leaned over to whisper in her ear. She was tense for a moment then seemed to relax. Greg smiled and nodded to his father.

Winston walked over to stand in front of Tsa’li. “Give it to me.”

Tsa’li didn’t speak or move. He didn’t acknowledge the demand in any way.

“Give it to me!”

Again Tsa’li did no more than stare at him.

Winston’s face flushed bright red and he drew back his fist to hit Tsa’li but Chance stepped in the way. “No!”

Tsa’li gently moved her aside. “The power is not for you,” he directed his words to Winston. “It will not answer to evil.”

Winston’s flush deepened. He turned and ran to one of the armed men and snatched the gun from his hands. Before he could take aim at Tsa’li, Maurice intervened. “Hold on, he’s no use to us dead and without him we’ll never find it.”

Everyone looked at Winston to see what he would do. Iris reached into her purse and pulled out a handgun. Chance was the only one to see her raising it and she dived at Iris.

Both women went down in a tangle. Iris screamed and hit at Chance as Chance tried to wrestle the gun from her hand. It went off and Greg jumped to one side. “Goddamn!” Winston shouted and tried to get a hold on one of the women to break up the fight.

Chance broke Iris’ hold on the gun and Winston snatched it up. Greg grabbed Iris and pulled her up, still kicking and screaming.

“What is it with you?” Chance shouted as she climbed to her feet. “Why are you here and what do you want?”

“What do I want? I’ll tell you!” Iris screamed. “I want to see you suffer. I want to see you beg and cry and plead for the lives of these worthless Indians. I want you to see everyone you love die before your eyes and know that you’re the reason for it. Then I want you to die. But not fast, no, not fast. I want you to die slow, an inch at a time.”

“Just one minute!” Maurice intervened. “No one is killing my daughter and if you think otherwise then you’re badly mistaken. Greg, I think perhaps you’d better get your lady friend out of here before I have to do something you might not like.”

Greg looked at Maurice and smiled widely. “I don’t think so, Maurice.”

“You don’t think so?” Maurice exclaimed in surprise. “Winston, I demand that you—”

“You can’t demand anything,” Iris cut him off then nudged Greg. “Now, lover.”

“Boys?” Greg called out. The two armed men leveled their weapons at Maurice and Winston.

“Put those guns down!” Winston ordered.

The men didn’t speak, nor did they obey. “Did you hear me?” Winston shouted. “I said put your weapons down!”

“Sorry, Mr. Holling,” one of the men said. “But we don’t take orders from you anymore.”

Winston turned to Greg with a furious expression on his face. “What is the meaning of this? Have you lost your mind?”

Greg pulled a handgun from behind his back and smiled. “No, as a matter of fact, I think I’ve finally found it. So, shut up and listen, old man. This is how it’s gonna be.”

Chapter Twelve

Wyatt crouched behind the cover of the trees, watching silently. There were two men patrolling the entrance of the estate. Both were armed with automatic weapons and both had radios clipped to their belts.

As he watched, he considered his best course of action. He would have to take the men out one at a time, in a way that would attract no attention. He didn’t want anyone to be forewarned of his arrival. His rage rose like the swell of a wave, threatening to drown him in its heat.

Backing a little farther into the trees he struggled to control the rage. He needed a clear head and rage only clouded his thinking. But rage was not his only worry. He could feel Walker’s presence like a physical sensation. He could even hear Walker’s voice in his mind, ceaselessly hammering at him to give in and let Walker out.

Wyatt knew that no matter what he could not let Walker take control. If that happened there would be no chance for any of them. Walker didn’t care about saving Chance, his father and grandfather. He cared only for violence and killing and the bloodlust was making him stronger with each passing second.

“No!” he whispered harshly, before he was aware he had spoken. “This is my fight!”

The sound of mocking laughter inside his mind threatened to overwhelm him. Only by focusing his thoughts on Chance and his family could he push Walker back enough to function. When at last he was reasonably certain that Walker was sufficiently quelled, he crept from behind the trees. Like a shadow, he moved silent and swift.

He was on the first guard before the man knew what was happening. Wrapping one arm around the man’s neck and covering his mouth with the other, Wyatt dragged him into the trees. Just a little more pressure on his throat and the man was unconscious. Pausing long enough to securely tie and gag him, Wyatt then left him hidden in the trees and made his way around behind the second of the guards.

He could hear the static of the man’s radio as a tinny voice came over it. “Any sight of Wolfe?”

“Not yet,” the man replied.

“How about you, Joe?” the voice on the radio inquired.

Wyatt saw the guard turn when there was no reply. “Joe?” he called out in the direction the guard had been moments before. “Hey, Joe!”

Wyatt sprang from the darkness as the man started forward. The man grunted as he went down under Wyatt’s weight. “Sam!” the voice on the radio called. “Sam! Joe! What’s going on out there?”

Wyatt slammed his fist down into the base of the guard’s head and felt the man go limp. Grabbing the fallen radio he pressed the transmitter button. “Everything’s okay. Joe just had to take a piss.”

“Well, keep your eyes open! We got red-skins out the ass ‘round back. No telling how many more of ‘em are out there,” the voice on the radio ordered.

“Will do,” Wyatt replied and tossed the radio aside so that he could tie the second guard. Apparently Billy and the men with him were keeping Hollings’ men occupied for the moment.  He finished securing the ropes around the unconscious man  and pulled him over to the side of the entrance where he was out of sight then climbed up over the iron fence that protected the property and dropped lightly to the ground.

Had anyone been watching they would only have seen a dark form moving silently along the edge of the tree-lined drive. What could not have been guessed had he been seen was that Wyatt was fighting an inner battle as he made his way toward the house, one that he could not afford to lose.

* * * * *

Inside the barn everyone was looking at Greg in disbelief as he sauntered around, waving the handgun. “You see, Pop,” he sneered at Winston. “Plans have changed, thanks to Iris. She’s the one who made me see that being your errand boy just doesn’t cut it. Why should I play second fiddle to you when I can have it all?”

“You conniving, underhanded little—”

“Uh, uh, uh.” Greg wagged the gun back and forth as if admonishing a child. “Don’t interrupt while I’m talking. It isn’t polite.”

Chance inched over close between Tsa’li and John. John was watching Greg and the two armed men apprehensively but Tsa’li was watching the whole thing impassively, as if he were watching a play being enacted before him. Chance cut a look at Iris who was watching Greg with a secret smile on her face. Chance wondered just what Iris was thinking.

“Now, like I was saying,” Greg continued. “Plans have changed. When our little hero, Wyatt, shows up to save the day he’ll find not only his father and the old man dead by your hand,” he directed the comment to his father. “But his lovely little whore, as well.” He nodded in Chance’s direction. “See, she’s going to die at the hands of her dear father who was so enraged at the idea of his precious little princess being married to an Indian that he killed her in a fit of anger then couldn’t live with what he’d done so turned the gun on himself.”

“You’re insane!” Maurice bellowed.

“Insane?” Greg laughed. “I prefer to think of it as brilliant. I mean, after all, Maurice, just think. Everyone knows you’ve hated Wyatt for years. Just the thought of him fucking your little girl is enough to drive you over the edge. And as far as the rest of you,” he waved the gun around at everyone. “Well, when the authorities arrive I’m going to have to tell them how Wyatt came in here and started a fight and everyone ended up dying—except me and Iris, of course. Fortunately, I was able to kill Wyatt before he could kill me. And then—” He laughed and spun around excitedly. “Well, then, not only will I be the hero, but I’ll have everything.”

“That’s crazy!” Maurice argued. “Why kill me? Think about it for a minute. There’s no need to kill me. You’ll inherit Winston’s estate but mine will go to Patricia. Now, think, Greg. What if you altered your plan a little? Suppose everything went as you outlined except for one small alteration. Suppose I survive, trying, of course, to save my daughter, who unfortunately dies. You’ll have Winston’s stock and you and I will be partners. And you’ll need someone with experience and the right contacts to get you ahead. I could be a valuable asset to you.”

Winston turned on Maurice. “You son of a bitch!”

“First rule,” Maurice replied. “Look out for number one.”

“You’re forgetting just one thing,” Iris spoke up.

“What’s that?” Maurice asked.

“Me,” she said with a smile.

Maurice looked at her with confusion on his face and she laughed. “Wouldn’t it be something if Mother was here to see you now? I bet she wouldn’t find you so irresistible anymore.”

“What are you babbling about?”

“My mother!” she shrieked. “Doris! Remember her?”

For a moment Maurice’s face paled then flushed hotly. “Doris didn’t have a child.”

“Oh, but she did. After you tossed her aside like yesterday’s news.”

“Lies!” Maurice shouted. “And even if she did have a child it wasn’t mine.”

“Baaah!” Iris sounded off like a berserk game show buzzer. “Wrong answer. The correct answer is, she was pregnant with your child when you dumped her and DNA will prove it. So, you see,
Daddy
, my plan is foolproof. You and the princess die and I collect everything. There’s just one thing I want to know. Why? She loved you and you destroyed her.”

Winston laughed, drawing a hard look from Iris. He cut a gloating look at Maurice, now ready to play his own card. “Why, that’s not a mystery. Sure Maurice liked Doris. He sure as shit liked getting between her legs. But marry her? That’s a laugh. She had nothing and Maurice had his sights set on high-dollar living.” He directed his attention to Chance. “Why the hell do you think he married your mother? She’s the one who made him a rich man.”

Chance glared at her father hatefully, and opened her mouth to let loose a barrage on him, but Iris beat her to the punch.

“She wasn’t good enough for you? That’s it? She didn’t have money so you just walked away? Well, damn you to hell, you bastard. Because now, you’re going to die and I’m going to take everything.”

“I’ll kill you, you rotten bitch!” He seemed to recover from his shock and made a grab for Greg’s gun. Before he could reach it, Iris snatched the gun away and turned on him, firing twice. The first bullet hit him in the stomach. He jerked once as a blossom of red stained his shirt, and the second bullet found its mark on the right side of his chest. He fell backward from the blast with blood splattering from the wounds.

No one moved as he hit the floor. His bubbling breath was all that was heard from inside the barn for several long seconds until Iris’ voice cut through the silence. “Now, it’s your turn,” she said and fired three rounds into Winston Holling.

He was dead before he hit the floor. Iris looked at him for a moment then turned and smiled at Chance. “Well, sister dear, looks like you’re next. But don’t worry, I wouldn’t think of killing you until your lover gets here. I want him to see you die.”

“Sister?” Greg exclaimed.

Chance looked over at him to see him looking at Iris in confusion. She turned and looked into Iris’ eyes. What she saw was a woman who was completely obsessed, a woman who would stop at nothing to get what she wanted. She turned away and looked toward the door. Suddenly she hoped more than anything that Wyatt didn’t show up.

* * * * *

Wyatt heard gunfire coming from the rear of the estate just as he reached the main house. A man appeared around the corner, running in the direction of the noise. Wyatt stepped out of the shadows just as the man drew near. A strangled gargle was all that escaped the man’s lips as he ran into Wyatt’s outstretched arm. He hit the ground still gasping for breath and looked up in fear. His mind barely had time to register what was happening before Wyatt’s fist sent him soaring into darkness.

After dragging the limp form behind the row of neatly trimmed boxwoods that bordered the house, Wyatt tied the man then stood and listened. He could hear voices as two men approached from the rear of the house. They sounded as if they were headed in the direction the gunfire had come from.

In a crouch, he made his way along the side of the house until he came to the corner. He paused and looked around. Moments later two men passed within feet of where he hid. He allowed them to get several yards ahead before he emerged from his hiding place and followed.

As he silently stalked them, listening to them talk to one another, a memory surfaced in his mind, something he had tried to put behind him. An image of DJ and Fish with the woman prisoner at the terrorist compound in Iraq flashed in his mind’s eye. He could hear them laughing as they held the terrified woman down with a knife at her throat and raped her.

The familiar rage that always accompanied the memory began to build within him. Wyatt shook his head, trying to push the memory aside. He could not let himself fall victim to the fury. That would only provide Walker the avenue he needed to escape into the foreground, and this was one time Wyatt needed to be in control. There were lives depending on him.

As the men he followed made their way past the garage, Wyatt saw his opportunity. Breaking into a sprint he drew in close behind them. Before they heard his footsteps he had launched himself into the air.

One of the men turned just in time for Wyatt’s fist to meet the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted a split second after the crunching sound of cartilage and the man staggered back and fell. The second man went down under Wyatt’s weight. He tried to use his rifle as a weapon but could not bring it around to fire. Wyatt sat up and grabbed the rifle, pressing down on it as the man tried to use it as a level to push him back. He could see the fear in the man’s eyes as his strength faltered and the rifle moved lower.

Gritting his teeth, Wyatt pushed hard and the man’s strength gave way. One more push and he was choking and retching as the weapon pressed against his throat.

The man with the broken nose climbed to his feet, trying to focus. Wyatt heard him and knew that he had to put him out of commission before he could sound an alarm. He let go of the rifle and used his fist on the man he had pinned to the ground. One punch and the man was out. Then Wyatt turned on the other, rolling off the unconscious man and sweeping his foot around to knock the other’s legs out from under him.

The man grunted and started to cry out. Wyatt kicked out and the sole of his boot met the man’s nose. This time when the man when down, he didn’t get up.

Wyatt took a quick look around.  There wasn’t anyone moving about. He bounded to his feet and continued around the garage. Ahead in the darkness he could see lights. Staying as hidden as possible, he continued until he could see the two men who stood guard outside the entrance of the barn. For a moment he stayed perfectly still. There was a good chance there were men posted at the rear of the barn. If he rushed the guards at the front it would attract attention. He had to find a way to distract them from their post.

* * * * *

Chance looked at Iris again and they stared at one another for a long time. “Nothing to say for once, princess?” Iris broke the contact.

Chance looked over at her father’s body. She wanted to feel grief but there was nothing but a hollow empty feeling inside her. Maurice had not loved her. She had known that since she was a child. She had been a decoration to be put on display when it served his purpose but little more.

She thought back to how it had been when she was a child. She had wanted to love her father. For years she had tried. But her love had never been accepted and whatever feelings she had for him had died when he had her unborn child murdered. Now she could only grieve for what might have been had they been able to be a real family.