Her Hidden Truth. Debra Webb

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СКАЧАТЬ the way he felt about Kat, was a risk Vince wasn’t willing to take.

      VINCE HAD STUDIED a map of the Port Charlotte area before leaving D.C. that morning. He knew the approximate location of Chamblis Avenue, but he allowed Jamal to lead the way. He drove a black SUV. The team had access to two SUVs, both black. Expensive rides for university students and their dropout friends. Someone big had to be bankrolling this operation. Someone besides the rich kid with the monthly allowance. The only question was how long would it take the team to earn the right to be all the way in. To meet The Man himself.

      Maybe they wouldn’t. There was always the possibility that they would die following orders without ever really knowing from whom those orders came. Vince was reasonably sure Yu was the key. He was in deeper than the rest. He may have even met with Kovner already.

      At the moment Vince didn’t give a rat’s butt about nailing Kovner. Right now all he had on his mind was keeping Kat safe. If Yu was serious—Vince glanced at his watch—he had just forty-three minutes to retrieve whatever the hell it was Yu wanted and to get it back to him. Another wave of stark fear rushed over Vince. There were few things in this world that scared him, but hurting Kat again, directly or indirectly, definitely did.

      J-Man parked in front of a small, neat cottage, but that wasn’t Vince’s destination. He’d already recognized the target as easily as if it had been marked with a red bull’s-eye. A seventies-style ranch house stuccoed and painted a nasty beige color. The clashing dragons in a fight to the death, trapped forever by an amateur artist’s brush above the front door, was like a neon sign screaming This Is The Place!

      Someone inside that house had something Yu wanted.

      Vince made a U-turn and stashed his Harley a half a block behind J-Man’s SUV. Vince took a penlight and a small pry bar from the storage area under his seat and headed in the direction of his target. He nodded at the brooding guy who’d escorted him here as he passed. “I won’t be long.”

      “Yeah, you just go ahead and play the tough guy,” Jamal called to Vince’s back. “You’re dead already. So’s that bitch of yours. We don’t need her, anyway. We should’ve ditched her already. Would have if Phil didn’t have a thing for her.”

      Vince stopped and turned back to the cocky SOB tempting his fate without even knowing it. He didn’t have time to analyze the crack about the team not needing Kat. “I’ll be back,” he threatened. “And if you’re lucky I’ll only break one of your legs for fun.”

      Jamal made a derisive sound. “Yeah, right. Those Chinese dudes are gonna whip your puny white ass.”

      Vince ignored the rest of the guy’s muttering. He’d wasted enough time already.

      Two minutes later he was standing at the front door of the house. It was almost two o’clock in the afternoon and the house echoed a deadly quiet. The tenants were either at school, or work, or sleeping off the previous night’s good time. Either way, Vince was going in.

      He did the credit-card thing and had the door open in record time, simultaneously palming his weapon. Thankfully no intruder alarms were activated. The damned things were a dime a dozen and everybody seemed to have them nowadays. Not that they presented any real problems, but they were a pain in the rear and wasted valuable time. Then there was the problem that the sound of the alarm usually woke the residents. He didn’t need that, either—assuming anyone was home.

      The front door led right into the living room, which was lit by a single bare bulb in the unshaded lamp that sat near a shabby sofa. The heavy draperies were closed tight, blocking the afternoon sun. Even in the low light the place looked as if it had been ransacked, but Vince felt reasonably certain that it was nothing more than young-single-male decor.

      He took slow, steady breaths in hopes of keeping his heart rate at a reasonable pace. He had to think clearly and move quickly. There was no way to know for sure what he was looking for, but Yu had insisted he would know it when he saw it. Yu desired it greatly. Something personal to him…something from the culture he worshiped, was Vince’s best guess.

      The living room, kitchen and bathroom yielded nothing. Vince’s pulse rate doubled as he moved down the hall toward the bedrooms. He had only thirty-five minutes left. In the first bedroom he found nothing but a sleeping Caucasian male. Bedroom number two rendered much the same, only this sleeping beauty was of Asian descent. Vince’s temple started to throb with his mushrooming agitation. He had to hurry. Had to find it…whatever it was.

      In the third bedroom another man slept, this one also of the Far Eastern persuasion, and with his woman wrapped in his arms. Vince quickly scanned the room as he had the others, using only the small penlight.

      Nothing. There was nothing here. What the hell was it that Yu wanted? Vince glanced at the woman and considered whether she could be it. Then he thought of Yu’s attachment to Kat and decided against that possibility. Then again, Yu didn’t seemed opposed to killing Kat to prove a point.

      It wasn’t the woman. Vince was sure of it.

      He would know it when he saw it, Yu had said.

      Then he saw it. A gleaming silver ceremonial sword. Even in the poor illumination produced by the tiny flashlight, the sword was obviously very valuable. That had to be it. No question. The only trouble was it hung on the wall above the bed’s headboard. Vince couldn’t see any way to retrieve it without waking the slumbering couple. And that would not be a good thing, or a time-wise one. He had to find another way.

      Thirty-three minutes.

      Sweat rising on his skin, Vince eased to the woman’s side of the bed. He shoved the pry bar and weapon into the waistband of his jeans, held the penlight between his teeth and leaned as far over the bed as he dared. Slowly, not even breathing, he reached for the sword.

      The image of Kat cuffed to that railing kept zooming through his mind. He had to hurry. Couldn’t make a mistake. Couldn’t let her down.

      His tension eased marginally when he had the sword in his hand. He gritted his teeth, straining against the awkward position until he slowly, quietly, lowered the weapon far enough that he could grasp it with his left hand, as well.

      Got it.

      Now all he had to do was to get out without waking anyone.

      Vince moved slowly, cautiously, across the room…to the door…and into the long, narrow hall. Picking up speed then, the thickly padded carpet muffling the sound of his steps, he made his way back to the living room.

      When he reached for the front doorknob the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

      Someone was right behind him.

      Vince whipped around, slicing through the air with the sword. The owner leaped back, bowing his body to avoid the sharp edge.

      He had a gun. Vince lunged forward and kicked the weapon from his hand. The guy rushed Vince. He tossed the sword aside and went for the guy’s midsection.

      They tumbled to the floor. The guy managed one blow that landed square on Vince’s left cheekbone. He ignored the explosion of pain. The sound of pottery shattering followed the fall of the lamp as they rolled into a table.

      Seconds later the other male sleeping beauties came to their friend’s aid.

      Leaving the first guy temporarily disabled on the floor, Vince took СКАЧАТЬ