The Shark (Forgotten Files Book 1) (29 page)

“Someone you know.”

She’d crossed paths with so many over the years. “Who?”

Instead of answering, the Shark deflected. “Did you know the man who beat me won half a million dollars and you were allowed to go free? I was blown away. I’d never lost before.”

“It must have been a frustrating blow.”

“You can’t imagine.” He smiled as if he were talking to a kindred spirit. “I lost track of you right after the game, but never him. I followed his exploits over the last dozen years and was amused by his efforts to appear legitimate.”

“Appear?”

“He is an addict like me, and no matter how much he swears he’s gone legit, I know he hasn’t. I’ve heard about some of his private games. He’s always been one of the best, being most careful not to lose too much when the cards turn on him.”

“Are you talking about my stepfather, William Charles?”

His eyes sparked with amusement. “Good guess, but wrong.”

Her temper burned in her gut, but she refused to give it free rein. This bullshit guessing game would keep him talking.

“I even thought it might be Shield,” she said.

He chuckled. “He’s a true gambler at heart. The way he rolled the dice and left the FBI to start that company. And he was in New Orleans during the killings, wasn’t he?”

She’d thought her guess had been too wild to consider. “Is it Shield?”

“No.”

The only other gambler she knew in her life was Duke. But he didn’t even play lotto scratch cards. He even frowned on the coin game heads or tails.

The Shark tugged at his shirt cuff, adjusting the square gold cuff link. “When I became sick, I searched him out. He didn’t see me, but I saw him. And who should I see talking to him? You. I almost wept. It was as if it were all meant to be.”

Who had he seen her talking to? Dread surrounded her, teasing her and prodding her to surrender to her inevitable loss. “Who is it?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. Ask me who killed Cassie.”

She checked her frustration and fear. Keep playing his game. Buy time. “Who?”

“Lenny Vincent, a Vegas gambler. Lenny was willing to make one final bet for me so that I’d leave his family alone. I thought he did well for a man who had never been in the woods before.”

“When I saw the playing card, I knew it was you.”

“You’re the final round. I want to end the games as a winner.”

“You’re talking about betting my life—a stake you don’t own, but stole.”

He laughed. “Those kind of details bore me.”

“What if I choose not to play?”

“You have a choice now, Riley. You can participate in the game as you did twelve years ago, or I can play the game with Hanna as the stake. Not my first choice, but there must be a stake in the last game.”

“Aren’t you worried that I’m wearing a wire?” she said.

“There are so many signal jammers within a two-mile radius of this house that no signal will travel beyond these walls.”

Whatever hope she had for Bowman’s help was dashed. She was truly alone. “And you’ll kill Hanna if the player loses.”

“That’s the risk. Her champion, if you want to call him that, beat me twelve years ago. Maybe he’ll get lucky again. Maybe not. Either way, there must be a stake in the game. You or Hanna. Choose.”

She stared at him, angry and frustrated, knowing she had no real choice. “What if my champion loses? What about Hanna?”

“After the game, I’ll take her back to your house. She’ll live.”

“How can I trust you?”

He cocked his head. “I never break my word, Riley. You’re living proof of it. I’m disappointed you even need to ask.”

“And if my champion wins? We both walk free.”

“Absolutely.”

She smoothed her hands over her jeans, not having the faintest clue how she was going to save Hanna and maybe herself. To buy time and ensure Hanna’s survival, Riley knew she had to play. “All right. I’ll play.”

A smile curved the edges of his lips. “I’m glad. You don’t know how much this all means to me.” He held out a hand, indicating she should move toward a set of pocket doors. “The game is waiting. Are you sure I can’t get you a drink? I promise it won’t put you to sleep this time because I want you awake for the final round.”

“Pass.”

The doors opened to a lush sitting room. The furnishings were a mix of modern and old, eclectic, but very expensive. A man she assumed had been her driver stood in the corner.

“I want to see Hanna,” she said.

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” the Shark said. “And I gave you my word she is fine.”

“You don’t rank very trustworthy in my book.” She shook her head as she reached for her ankle holster and drew her gun. She pointed it at him. “So consider this a renegotiation. I’m not playing if I don’t see her.”

The Shark studied her with a mixture of annoyance and respect. “I bet myself you wouldn’t come here defenseless. You are too smart for that. And I know you can shoot me. But remember if you do, Hanna is dead before you clear this room.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s fine. And I’ll really enjoy winning this game.” He looked at the driver. “If Riley hands you her gun, then you can bring Hanna here.”

Riley’s grip on the weapon tightened. This was her only defense. But she’d seen the bodies of the girls he’d killed. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill her child. Going against all her training and instinct, she handed it over.

The Shark seemed even more pleased by her distress. He nodded and the driver vanished behind a door.

“Who is the man who bet me in the game?”

“You’ll see him in a moment.”

The door opened and Hanna stumbled into the room. She was drugged, but she was functioning enough to walk. Her vacant gaze rose to Riley and she started to cry, moving toward her in fast but awkward steps. “Riley.”

Riley wrapped her arms around her, holding her close. The girl trembled in her arms. “It’s okay, baby. No matter what, you’re going to be fine.”

Hanna’s tears dripped onto Riley’s shoulder. “Riley, I’m scared.”

“I know.” It took all her strength to cling to her composure and sound calm. “But you’ll be fine.”

Hanna buried her face in Riley’s shoulder. “What about you?”

Riley pulled Hanna back so that she could see her eyes. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay.”

“But he’s got us both here.”

She brushed a stray strand of hair from the girl’s eyes. “Put your money on me, because I plan on winning.”

The Shark checked his watch and snapped his fingers. “Take Hanna away.”

Riley nearly broke as the girl clung to her and begged to stay. “Where are you taking her?”

“There’s a nice soft bed for her to lie upon while we play the game.”

Hanna gripped Riley’s shirt. “I don’t want to go.”

“It’ll be fine.” The lie barely stumbled off her tongue; it sickened her to say it. But until she figured out who all the players were in this game, she had no choice. “I’ll come find you soon.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“You have to,” she whispered into the girl’s ear. “You have to. I promise to come for you.”

“You swear?” she gasped.

“Yes,” she said with a conviction that surprised her.

“Lock her in her room and then stand guard outside the house.”

The driver nodded and took Hanna by the arm, pulling her toward the door. The girl cried louder while Riley’s stomach knotted.

When it was the two of them, she faced the Shark. “Who’s the other player?”

He smiled. “You are about to find out.”

Bowman drove the backcountry roads in his black SUV at speeds bumping eighty miles an hour as he monitored Riley’s signal on his phone. The signal was growing stronger, so he knew he was getting closer. She was less than three miles from him. Just a little more time . . .

And then in a blink the beep went dead.

“Shit.” He tapped the console on the dash. He grabbed his cell and dialed Andrews. On the first ring he heard, “Andrews.”

“I lost the signal,” Bowman said.

“I see you on my map. When did you lose the signal?”

“Moments ago.”

“How far ahead of you do you estimate she is?”

“I don’t know. Fifteen minutes. Twenty. The scanner says she’s about three miles from me.”

“Give me a second to check the area homes.”

Bowman eased off on the gas pedal, knowing he should stop and wait for Andrews, but too worried to sit still. “Hurry up.”

“I’m calculating.”

“Need it yesterday.”

Silence followed and then Andrews said, “There’s a large estate twenty clicks due west on Route 602. It’s called the Sheffield Estate. It was built five years ago by . . . shit. It was built by Byline Entertainment.”

Bowman cursed. “Vicky’s body was found in the field rented by Byline for the concert. The Shark is a brazen bastard.”

“What do you need?” Andrews asked.

“Feed directions into my GPS. And tell Shield. I want all the troops in on this op.”

“Consider it done. Bowman, I’ve been watching Riley’s video over and over trying to dig every detail out of it. I’ve isolated a sound. I think I know who’s playing for Riley’s life.”

Riley sat in a large red straight-backed chair with thick walnut armrests. Like everything in the house, it was the finest of its kind. The Shark felt as if he deserved the best.

He sat at the table and carefully arranged the chips, clearly excited about the game.

She couldn’t resist goading him. “What does your opponent get if he wins?”

“He won’t win.”

“But what if he does?” she challenged. “Does he get another half-million dollars this time?”

“This time he does get a sizable amount of money, but more important, he gets his freedom and my promise that I’ll never bother him again.”

“He doesn’t want to be here.”

The Shark shrugged. “I actually think he does. Made me twist his arm, but I saw the change in his eyes when he accepted the challenge.”

“Why him?”

“How can it be a rematch unless we have all the players from the first game?”

“You sent Lenny into the woods. You bet I’d be the one to find him.”

He smiled. “Betting is a hard habit to break.”

The Shark seemed to know all the angles of his opponent before the games began. “Why my type? What’s the deal with dark-headed runaways?”

“You are searching for motivation. That’s your cop mind working. Very good.”

She knew enough about interrogation to know that he’d talk more if she sounded as if she empathized. “I would wager some woman must have hurt you very badly.”

“I never thought I had a type or could really care about anyone until Angie.”

Angie had been the seventeen-year-old runaway. “How did you meet her?”

“She was following one of the bands. Young, wise beyond her years, but ultimately a lost soul.”

“And you wanted to help her.” She nearly choked on the words.

His smile faltered. “I loved her. I tried to save her from the streets until I realized she was too damaged to save.”

“How was she damaged?”

“She couldn’t control herself. I promised her the world and realized she was seeing other men.” For a moment his face took on a faraway expression. “She looked so much like you.”

“What happened? Why did you kill her?”

“I was gambling large to impress her. I took risks I’d never taken before. When the last card turned and I realized I’d won, it was thrilling. I went to her immediately and told her what I’d won for her. But the moment I took her in my arms, I knew she’d cheated on me.”

“How could you tell?”

“I could smell another man on her. When I called her a whore, she just laughed. It was her taunts that sent me into a rage. She was an ungrateful bitch.”

“Maybe she hadn’t cheated on you.”

“She had. I know it. I know women cheat, and yet I believed she was different. If I hadn’t loved her so much, I wouldn’t have killed her. My emotions ran so deep.”

“And after she was dead?”

“I missed her almost immediately. I wanted to forgive her, but she was gone. And then I started to see her face in some of the faces of the young runaways that summer. The urge to gamble returned. And so did the urge to kill.”

Riley wanted to keep him talking. She was stealing time on the slim hope Bowman would find Hanna and her. “What was it about the girls that reminded you of Angie?”