Never a bad thing, to cost that vicious prick money and energy.
It was too late to talk himself out of it. There were no alternatives. He’d put himself and Elisa right between a hammer and an anvil.
All he dared to hope for now was that the final blow was quick and clean.
23
Elisa’s head was throbbing, and her mouth tasted coppery and bitter as she opened her eyes a cautious slit. Her stomach lurched as the sliver of light sent a bolt of pain stabbing through her head.
Poison gas. She’d been drugged. She, Mitch and Clint. Gil had won.
Oh, God.
She turned her head. Saw gleaming cherry wood planks. A gray and beige nubbly woolen weave rug. It seemed familiar. There was dust on the shiny floor. There were dust curls under a couch, which was upholstered in a gray textured fabric. She managed, with great throbbing, pounding pain, to turn her head—and saw the big black vase that Dad had bought at an auction in South Africa, years ago.
She was at Beecham Lake. Disjointed memories flashed through her mind. The times she’d spent in that house before Josh was born. She and Mom used to come up here, with and without Dad. They’d swum in the cold glacial lake. Hiked in the mountains. Dad had liked this house. He’d modified it even more than the others.
She squinted up at the white sky through the picture window. Dark, pointed treetops towered up into it. There were snowflakes blowing in the air, in all directions.
She tried moving, but her arms were trapped beneath her at a strange angle. They were numb. She rolled over and realized that they were bound in front of her.
Someone had wrapped her wrists carefully with many layers of gauze before putting the plastic ratchet cuffs on her.
She didn’t want to speculate the reasons Gil might have for doing that. Certainly it wasn’t out of any desire not to injure her. He had a darker, crueler reason.
“There you are. Right on schedule.” It was Gil’s voice, behind her.
She rolled over, craning her neck to look up at him. Gil loomed over her, sipping a glass of whiskey. He enjoyed looking down at her, sprawled on the floor.
In fact, he’d always enjoyed looking down on her in general. Even before.
Strange, that it had become so clear to her now, when it hadn’t been before. She had needed something to compare him to. Nate had given her that.
Not that it mattered now.
“Gil,” she said hoarsely, coughing to clear her throat. “Looks like you get to chalk up a point.”
Gil chuckled. “You’re smarter than I thought, you know?”
She snorted. “Not smart enough, evidently.”
“Oh, don’t beat yourself up,” Gil encouraged her. “You were completely outmatched, after all. It’s a miracle you lasted as long as you did. Isn’t it almost a sort of relief, to finally yield to the inevitable?”
“Fuck you, Gil,” she said evenly.
Her ex-husband clucked his tongue and sipped his drink, moving the liquor around in his mouth as he stared down at her, eyes glittering.
She stared back, straight into his eyes. Cool, blank. Emotionless.
“Don’t be vulgar,” he scolded. “Have you been keeping bad company? You always were impressionable.”
“I no longer have to reflect well on you. I can be as vulgar as I want. Asshole.”
“You might want to make an effort,” he said, in a light but menacing voice. “You aren’t a complete idiot.” Gil sat down on the couch, crossing his leg and adjusting his perfectly creased trouser, so that she was staring up at the sole of his elegant loafer. “It wasn’t that hard, once I’d identified the thugs that work for the Trasks. Erdinger followed one of them to the Granger Valley Hospital, and tagged his car. Followed him straight to that house where they were keeping you. So easy.”
She swallowed, keeping her face impassive. No point in responding to that.
“Yes, it’s so hard to stay on top of everything, hmm?” Gil said. “But never mind that. There was something else we needed to discuss. I got a call a couple hours ago, from the fire chief in Amity Falls. There was a fire in the Bailey Ridge house. Not only is the house a complete loss, it also appears that there was some loss of life.”
Elisa stared up at him stonily. “Yeah? So?”
“They found three bodies,” Gil said slowly. “Burned. But one of the house’s occupants was missing, so I can only assume that someone abducted Josh, and killed the men I’d hired to look after him.”
She couldn’t keep the laughter back. It barked painfully out of her chest. “Look after him? You lying snake. You tortured him.”
“Shut up,” Gil said. “Don’t try to be smart. You are out of your depth here. And you’re going to tell me where the flash drive Erasma gave you ended up.”
“I destroyed it,” she said defiantly.
“Bullshit.” His voice sounded like a whip-crack. “Even you aren’t stupid enough to throw away your only leverage. I searched your squalid apartment in Shaw’s Crossing, and the house in McLinn. And I searched your lovely body, too, you know? I touched every single inch of you. Impressive. You finally trimmed off that last ten pounds I kept telling you to shed, eh? Sleek and taut. Nice work.”
“Fuck you, Gil.”
She gazed up at her face, some faraway part of her brain amazed that she could have ever been intimate with this man. He’d talked a good game, in the beginning. He’d looked great on paper. Good looking, smart, ambitious.
But she hadn’t sensed that he was a monster.
One thing was sure. She’d never been in love with him. But it had taken falling in love with Nate to understand the difference. Thank God she knew the difference now.
Whatever happened, she’d learned one true, beautiful thing before the end.
“I looked everywhere, but I didn’t find that flash drive,” he said. “It was not on that tight, fuckable body of yours. Nor in your clothes or shoes.”
She shook her head, and braced herself, shaking inside. “Don’t have it.”
“No? So who does? Your boy toy? The big one, what was his name? Nate, that’s right. Nate Murphy, the security expert. A bouncer. A Trask hanger-on. So that’s what turns you on? Big, shaggy, knuckle-brained jarheads?” He shook his head sadly. “No wonder we never clicked in bed. It all comes clear. You like hairy brutes.”
“He’s not involved with me,” she said. “We barely know each other.”
“So he wasn’t the one who abducted Josh from Bailey Ridge? And murdered my employees? And destroyed my property?”
That was too much to take, even lying bound on the floor. “Your property?”
His mouth curved. “Just thinking ahead,” he said. “You know it’s a shame that your inheritance is a fraction of what it should have been, but once you and Josh are out of the way, I can liquidate all the property and scrape together at least ten to fifteen million. It’s better than nothing, I suppose. Gubernatorial campaigns are expensive.” He laughed and held up his hand. “Yes, yes. You don’t even have to say it. Fuck you, Gil, right? Let’s get back to Nate Murphy. Does he have the drive?”
“No,” she said. “He does not have a damn thing. I barely knew the guy. I think he went back to Seattle. They rotate their security staff regularly.”