Exception to the Rule Read online

  Then again, direct contact was what Kimmer did best.

  Her other hand closed around a weapon that caused a flood of ironic satisfaction…the sap she’d taken off Boots. The goonboys would get a taste of their own if they gave her any trouble.

  Carolyne had taken the PDA, fiddling awkwardly with the stylus as she glanced to Scott. And Scott said, “Baby, I don’t really know what’s going on here, but whatever they want, just give it to them.”

  Carolyne regarded him with a puzzled frown. “But—”

  “But nothing,” Scott interrupted. “This isn’t your kind of game, babe. It sure as hell isn’t mine. I don’t know what you ran into that’s got everyone on your tail, but I don’t remember you signing anything more than a confidentiality agreement. No one ever said anything about combat pay!”

  “But…” Carolyne whispered, shaken by this unexpected attack on her determination.

  “Just tell them. It’s not like your think tank hasn’t got it figured out already, right? And they’re probably already halfway to a solution.”

  Probably not.

  “Just get it over with, and let me get you home.”

  Not a bad strategy, from Scott’s point of view. Not for a man who didn’t truly know what was at stake, and who found himself lured into Pennsylvania for high-stakes games with his life. Come and get her…certainly not quite the same as come and be torture bait. Even if he didn’t quite seem to believe that last part.

  And Carolyne, her resolve crumbling, lifted the PDA…and then abruptly tossed it away. “No,” she said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about, Scott. I’m sorry.”

  Slick snatched her by the arm and gave her a quick, hard shake. His flashlight flickered wildly through the trees, swooping from the solid trunks to the thinning crowns. City Shoes gave a futile shout of command, pulling at Slick, adding a smack across Slick’s head with the back of his hand. When that didn’t work, he jammed the barrel of his gun into Slick’s face, distorting his cheek and getting his immediate attention. Slick froze and Carolyne tore free.

  Now.

  Kimmer shouted, “Don’t move!” She stepped out of the trees, avoiding direct light, and she let her gun precede her. Rio moved in at the same moment, the more formidable Ruger clearly visible in his extended Weaver stance. Slick and City Shoes knew just what to do; they froze, gaping at Rio, even as Carolyne gasped in shock.

  Kimmer said, “Get to the parking lot, Carolyne. Get out in the open. There’s a phone booth there. Use it.”

  But Carolyne, torn between Rio and Scott and escape, hovered between all three for only an instant before throwing herself at Scott. He lifted his cuffed hands over her head to enclose her in his arms, and he looked over her head to smile.

  And Kimmer realized that the goonboys were smiling back. They relaxed, and straightened themselves out, and no longer seemed quite so concerned by the pistols aimed in their direction. Carolyne gave a squeak of surprise as Scott’s arms tightened around her.

  Kimmer filled the air with a single resounding curse.

  City Shoes nodded at her, and then eyed Rio. “Not quite as dead as we thought.”

  “Not quite.” Rio shifted uneasily, trying to understand the dynamics of the situation—and why the two men who had their weapons at their sides suddenly looked as though they were the ones in control.

  Kimmer knew. She looked at Scott, the bitterness of betrayal tightening her throat. “You were in it from the start. You only wanted Hunter in on the situation to flush her out for you. That’s how I was bugged—and why I was followed.”

  Carolyne made a startled noise, a small cry of denial. “Scott, no! You wouldn’t—”

  But as she tried to move away from him, to duck out from beneath his arms, he only held her more securely. “Damn right I would,” he said. “You think I haven’t noticed you’ve gotten distant? What did I have to lose? They said you were working on something big and offered me a lot of money to help them get their hands on it—said you wouldn’t get hurt if I did. If your damn cousin hadn’t been there that night—”

  Carolyne froze, stunned. “You came to get me the night we left—not to say goodbye. And then you bugged us!”

  “Not me. I didn’t have anything to do with that.” Scott shook his head. “You’re quite the popular girl, Carolyne.”

  Kimmer glared at him across the clearing. Bastard.

  “Best you drop your weapons, yes?” City Shoes suggested, his amusement at Scott’s revelations growing to impatience.

  “Ow!” Scott yelped as Carolyne’s foot connected with his shin; he gave her a shake.

  “You’d better believe ow!” Carolyne said fiercely. “What have you done, Scott? Do you even have any idea?”

  And Kimmer stood quietly, the revolver still in her hand, her thoughts flying. Failure, that’s what this was. Except she and Rio weren’t taken yet—weren’t restrained, weren’t shot, weren’t shoved down to the ground where they could hardly make a quick escape. And the bubbaboys…they hadn’t arrived. Maybe they would, and maybe they wouldn’t—but not yet. And that meant Kimmer had to rely on herself to get the notes to Hunter.

  It meant this was the moment she decided between Carolyne or the security of their weapons system. Stay…or run to deliver Carolyne’s notes. Or escalate, and stop this scene literally dead in its tracks, leaving Hunter to search out the hard copy.

  Scott looked only the slightest bit abashed at Carolyne’s fury. “It’s not like I had any choice,” he said. “They came to me, said they’d get you with or without me. I found them pretty damn convincing. And I learned early about looking after number one—you know that. And like I said—” he glanced meaningfully at Slick and City Shoes “—they told me if I helped, I could keep you from getting hurt. I guess I forgot to ask about Rio. Of course, he wasn’t supposed to be there—if he hadn’t been at your place, this stupid interlude would have been over before it even started.”

  “You dumb wanna-be goon!” Kimmer could barely keep the snarl from her voice, and only tamped it down when Slick raised his semiautomatic at Carolyne in a reminder. “How could you possibly believe that? As soon as these goonboys have what they want, you’ll both be dead.”

  “I don’t think so,” Scott said. “They’ve already given me a substantial amount of money.” He looked at City Shoes. “And you can take off the damn cuffs now.”

  Slick didn’t allow himself to become distracted with the byplay—he gestured at Kimmer and at Rio, and when they didn’t respond, he tightened his finger on the trigger, aiming at Carolyne’s leg.

  Stay, or run…

  Slowly, Kimmer put the gun down. Rio dropped his outright, nudging it toward Slick with his foot.

  Carolyne didn’t notice. Fully caught up in the horror of betrayal, she pushed against Scott’s chest, getting as far from him as she could within the circle of his arms. “I called you,” she said, horror in her voice.

  Rio said, “You did what?”

  “I called him!” She twisted, still shoving herself away from Scott, fastening a pleading look on Rio. “Yesterday I used your phone. I figured it was safe. But I led them straight to us because of who I called!” This time she hit Scott, a blow with no strength behind it simply because she had no leverage.

  “You did at that,” City Shoes said. “And we’re deeply grateful. Our associate was foolish enough to lose Miss Reed’s trail before he even left the Finger Lakes area. Didn’t even get a good description of her. Your phone call was quite convenient for us. And for your fiancé, who’s been waiting in Erie.”

  “Fine,” Scott said impatiently, ducking another blow. “Good. I’m glad I could help. Now take these things off!”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.” City Shoes exchanged a glance with Slick, who’d gathered up the discarded pistols. “We still have use for you, yes? She may think she’s mad at you, but she won’t stop caring all so quickly as that. We still need her to talk.”

  Kimmer understood immediately. Dumb
wanna-be goon. But to his credit, so did Scott. “Oh, no,” he said. “Not me. No, you don’t. That wasn’t part of our deal.”

  “Things evolve.” City Shoes shrugged. “These two we kill before they can cause any more trouble, and you we use as we need.”

  Scott’s gaze skipped around the ill-lit area, lingering in the direction of the parking lot. But he didn’t quite try for it, and the crafty look that settled on his face offered the reason—he still thought he could talk his way out of it. Talk Carolyne into spilling her secrets, talk the goonboys into changing their plan…he’d wait until Kimmer and Rio were no longer a threat, and then he’d try again.

  Slick dropped Kimmer’s pistols into his coat pocket with a casual proprietary air that set Kimmer’s teeth on edge. You, Slick, are taking things for granted. She glanced at Rio, a reality check, and found in his grim expression the awareness of the decision they’d only delayed. Escape to deliver Carolyne’s notes, or make a move now to free Carolyne and risk that no one would ever find the notes at all. And Carolyne, upon seeing them die, upon watching Scott beg, would break. Would spill her secrets as fast as she could.

  But although Kimmer saw imminent action in Rio’s tension, his expression, the way the air fairly vibrated around him, she had no idea what he might do. She couldn’t read him, couldn’t work with him, she couldn’t tell.

  Then she’d just have to trust him to be true to himself.

  She knew him well enough. He’d never walk away from Carolyne. He’d never look at Kimmer the same if she did. And unless they chose the same course, neither of them was likely to succeed. She held Rio’s eye a moment, finding there the frustration and doubt and the awareness that if they chose separate paths, neither would succeed. And as the distinctive rumble of a diesel pickup tickled the edges of Kimmer’s senses, she tried to read just exactly what he’d do.

  She couldn’t.

  But she knew anyway.

  And she could only hope that diesel engine belonged to Leo’s honey of a truck.

  Slick gestured for Kimmer and Rio to move away from the little group, and Kimmer saw it coming. Carolyne’s eyes, suddenly narrowed. Her face, suddenly hard. She turned on Scott with a vengeance, kicking and pummeling and shrieking—enough to turn Slick’s attention. Kimmer leaped at him, whipping Boots’s flat, lead-shot-filled sap from her pocket and slamming it down edge first on Slick’s arm. She dropped down to sweep her leg in behind Slick’s knees as his cry of pain hit the air and his gun hit the ground.

  A glance showed her Rio heading for Carolyne and Scott headed for a flailing impact with the ground; she tossed Rio the sap even as she sprang up to snap-kick at City Shoes’s head, ignoring the explosive report of his gun. They fell together, and while City Shoes hit hard, Kimmer rolled and bounced to her feet, leaving Rio to snatch away the gun and keep Shoes down, because there went Slick, scrambling away—

  Not as fast as Kimmer could scramble. Agile and explosively quick, within moments she overtook him, armed with her very own little war club. She brought it against his side as they fell, using as much restraint as the tumble allowed her. Still it was enough to break a rib, definitely enough to get Slick’s attention. Not enough to keep him from flipping over and landing on top of her, the world going crazy in the background with wildly flashing bright light and dark spinning woods. Kimmer’s side burned; Slick’s weight kept her from pulling in air, his knee pinning her hand and the war club with it. She fought an instant of panic, of knowing she was overmatched now that he’d claimed advantage of his size, and he saw it in her, his teeth gleaming in the darkness, his expression growing mean.

  Kimmer squirmed to get her hand on the stun gun, and couldn’t find her pocket. She fought to pull the little knife from her jeans, and couldn’t reach it. She aimed an instant of frantic thought at Rio, and knew he had his hands full, that he was counting on her to handle Slick on her own.

  Trusting her.

  And then Slick moved his knee to her arm, pinning it just above the elbow into instant numbness and freeing his own hand to reach inside his jacket for a knife, a slim street weapon that flicked open directly before Kimmer’s face. And while his expression twisted with mean triumph, Kimmer snarled her own victory right back at him—for with the war club thong slipped over her wrist, she didn’t need to feel her fingers; she needed only to bend her elbow.

  And this time she didn’t use restraint.

  She heard the bone break. Slick’s bone, a sound almost obscured by his cry of surprised pain. He rolled to the side and Kimmer followed with fierce intent, wrenching the knife from his hand to jab it at his neck, just barely breaking skin.

  Slick froze, his breathing a pained, shortened grunt, his eyes wide with disbelief, his mouth in an ugly rictus of fear—all perfectly visible as light flooded the area, shining directly into his face and splashing a world of dark shapes and darker shadows into a startling chiaroscuro assortment of scattered images.

  Kimmer blinked, scrubbing gloved fingers across her eyes without so much as twitching the knife. The light wavered slightly; footsteps approached. And then Leo said, “You need some help with this one?”

  They hadn’t waited. They hadn’t stayed in the truck, out of the way, safe and sound and watching the rest stop exit. Dammit. And thank God, for in a sudden rush, adrenaline strength abandoned Kimmer for adrenaline shakes. With all the casual attitude she could muster, she said, “Yeah, I’m through with him—maybe you can escort him to the parking lot and sit on him. Try not to break him any more than he is.” She eased back, waiting to see if resistance lurked behind Slick’s still stunned expression, and then added, “On the other hand, who really cares?”

  But Slick only let his head fall back into the dirt, and as Kimmer dragged herself to her feet to let Leo and Bob move in, she reluctantly shook her head. “So tempting. But don’t mess with him unless he resists.” She gave Leo a pointed glance, finding him half covered by Bob’s heavy-duty flashlight. “And trust me, I know just which marks I’ve already put on him.”

  “Yeah?” Bob gestured at her coat. “Looks like he got his licks in, too.”

  “What?” Kimmer looked at herself and found insulation sticking out of a hole in her coat, suddenly became aware of the wet warmth trickling down just inside the curve of her hip and then again along her flank. Then she felt the burn, the skim of it along flesh. “Dammit, that was a new coat.”

  “Hard to hide those bullet holes,” Leo said, a dry humor she wouldn’t have expected from him as he reached down to haul Slick to his feet. “C’mon, asshole, there’s a cold wet spot in the parking lot waiting for you.”

  Kimmer slipped the club from her wrist and back into her pocket, pulling off her balaclava to scrub her hand through her hair as she found her way back to where she’d started. She found the other two bubbaboys dragging an unconscious City Shoes away, but they’d left a flashlight propped in the crook of a tree branch and it was easy enough to spot Carolyne, sitting on the ground with her knees up and her head between them. And Rio, who stood beside her with his big hand resting on her head in an easy gesture of comfort, blocking her from Scott—who sat on his other side, his slicked hair disheveled and his expression more so. It could have been an afterthought that Rio’s foot was firmly planted on the tail of Scott’s coat, but Kimmer doubted it. She traded a glance with Rio, a quick thing that held mutual relief and gratitude and even the promise of a more thorough exchange later on.

  Scott seemed oblivious. Scott, caught up in his own internal world of maneuvering events to his advantage, no doubt was oblivious. “Look,” he said, gesturing helplessly with his still bound hands. “Things turned out okay, didn’t they? I bought you some time, right?”

  Kimmer thought of that moment when this little battle would have ended before it truly started, had Scott not received Carolyne as a prisoner instead of a refugee. Had he taken a chance and run for it, cuffs and all, as soon as Carolyne reached for him. Kimmer put her hands low on her hips and cocked her head at
him, wondering if he was smart enough to shut up right then and knowing he wouldn’t be.

  “It’s not like I’m really part of this,” Scott said. “I didn’t have any choice, did I? I mean, they said if I’d help, they’d make sure she wasn’t hurt.”

  Carolyne, head still down, made a muffled noise of dismay. Kimmer put a hand to her burning side and crouched down beside Scott. She kept her voice low and menacing. “Tell you what, you little weasel, why don’t you just make a try for it? Let’s see how far you get, shall we?”

  Scott responded with a startled stare, and then a foolishly quick once-over of her, a calculation of how far he might get.

  “Go ahead. I’m done here tonight,” she said, as inviting as the spider to the fly—and was surprised when Rio lifted his foot off Scott’s coat in a tacit permission. “Oh, but here’s the thing…I’ll never quit chasing you.”

  His flare of hope faded; he subsided, settling his butt more firmly on the damp ground.

  Kimmer stood and looked down at him. “I thought not,” she said. “And now you get to find out what it’s like to go to trial for treason.”

  Rio gave her a sharp look, knowing as well as she that the circumstances wouldn’t support such charges. Scott had been too ignorant of the stakes, as Carolyne had intended. But kidnapping, oh, yeah, there were felony charges lurking for Mr. Boyle. And meanwhile, if he thought he was into treason…

  Let him chew on it a while.

  Leo returned, eyed the three of them and wordlessly offered his cell phone.

  “Thanks.” Kimmer took it, nodding at Scott. “He goes with the other two, if you don’t mind.”

  “Mind?” Leo looked at her in a manner that made her recall just how much he’d enjoyed finding ways to humiliate her back in those days when her life was all about humiliation and fear. This time around, she’d found a way to use that…but she still wanted to take a shower.

  But Leo didn’t notice and wouldn’t have cared. “I reckon I don’t mind at all. This is an evening I can tell to my grandchildren.”