“If you lay a hand on her, the entire world will know the allegations are true,” Remi said, huffing out pained breaths. The last thing she needed was an asthma attack in the middle of a murderous assault.
“You can’t ruin me. Neither of you can touch me. You don’t have what I have. The power. The connections. The money. I’ll destroy you both, body and soul. And when I’m done doing that, I’ll make sure no one ever speaks your names again.”
“Delusional much?” Remi wheezed, crawling to her hands and knees.
He landed another kick. This one to her midsection. Camille jumped forward. Warren backhanded her in the face with the gun, and she crumpled like paper to the floor. Remi growled and breathed through the pain.
“Brick is going to kick your ass,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I’m counting on him making the attempt. You don’t think I’d leave without thanking him for his hospitality to my wife and her friend, do you?”
“What made you such a stupid asshole anyway,” Remi asked, trying to buy time. She needed to get help. She needed to get him away from this house.
There was a flash of movement at the top of the ramp, and Remi deliberately drew Warren’s attention back to her.
Hadley, in her pajamas, hovered in the doorway.
“What are you going to do with us, Warren?” Remi demanded.
“I’m going to take you two away from here. I have a place we can be alone. Where I can extract my pound of flesh.”
“Where is that?” Remi asked. Brick would tear the island apart by dawn once he knew what had happened.
She saw William’s hand flex at his side and nearly breathed a sigh of relief.
“It’s on the mainland. I’ll borrow a boat for the occasion. Don’t worry your pretty little head about the details. Just know that tonight will be your last, and if you don’t come quietly with me, I’ll go upstairs and murder every single person in their beds.”
Hadley ducked out of the door.
Remi was going to lodge this man’s balls in his skull the first chance she got.
“I’ll go quietly,” she promised.
“I thought you might,” he said with a twisted, triumphant grin.
“I can borrow a boat. My friend Eleanora Reedbottom has one. She won’t notice if it’s gone.”
“There now. It’s not so hard to cooperate, is it? Things are so much easier when you accept your place.”
When he bent to pick up Camille’s limp form, Remi scanned the worktable for weapons. She pocketed a palette knife and prayed for the chance to use it.
“Brick is going to come after you as soon as he finds out you took us, Warren.”
Her gaze darted to the doorway. She couldn’t see Hadley but knew her brave niece was lurking just out of range.
“Your idiot boyfriend is occupied with an unfortunate fire that started in the hotel’s kitchen,” he said, tossing Camille over his shoulder like he would a sack of feed.
“Let’s go,” he said, gesturing with the gun. “You lead the way and keep your hands where I can see them.”
With everything at stake and a mad man at her back, Remi stepped out into the night.
53
Brick swiped his forearm over his brow as he stared up at the Grand Hotel. She still stood. Just as proud as ever. Maybe a little smoky, and her kitchens a lot worse for the wear. But she still looked out over Lake Huron like a beacon of welcome.
It had taken hours and all hands on deck to get the blaze under control.
Arson. That was clear. An accelerant had been used to start and spread the flames. But the arsonist had forgotten one thing. That Mackinac Island stood up for its own.
There had been a few injuries. Some smoke inhalation. But like the hotel, they’d all survived the night.
No one messed with the lady on the hill. They’d had more volunteers than they’d known what to do with. The hotel guests had been liveried off to other accommodations. Some inns, some private homes. Restaurants and cafes had sent food and beverages up the hill to keep the crews fueled.
Both ferry lines woke up their crews and used their boats to ship firefighters and equipment from the mainland.
And as the promise of dawn began to kiss the horizon, Brick took his first easy breath. It was a good time to check in at home, he decided. Sinking down into a deck chair, one of the many that some thoughtful volunteer had pulled off the hotel’s porch and arranged in the grass for the crews.
He opened his texts when his phone rang. It was his own home number.
“Uncle Brick?”
“Hadley?”
“Uncle Brick, Aunt Remi’s gone. Her friend Camille, too. A man came.”
Brick launched himself out of the chair. “What happened?” he demanded.
“A man. A man dressed in black. I think Mr. White is dead. He was bleeding really bad. And then the man shot William. I’m with him now. He’s breathing, but he’s hurt bad. Can you bring an ambulance?”
Fuck.
Brick was in a dead sprint now.
It had been a ploy to get him away from Remi, from the house. He’d just left them dangling like bait. He’d abandoned them when they needed him most.
“Brick?” Chief Ford called from where she was conferring with the fire chief.
“Remi,” he said, his voice breaking on the name.
But he kept running down the grassy hill that sloped into town. “Hadley, are you safe?”
“I’m safe but scared. Uncle Brick, he has Aunt Remi and Camille. I think he knocked out Camille. He carried her out, and Aunt Remi looked like she was going to kill him.”
“I’m on my way. Is anyone else there? Is anyone else with you?”
“They’re all asleep. I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to see what Aunt Remi was painting. Sometimes I sneak down and I peek.”
His legs sped up as he passed the school on his left. The houses were all still dark.
He kept Hadley on the line until he burst through his own front door. Kimber and Kyle appeared on the stairs as Hadley ran toward him and threw herself in his arms.
“How long ago did they leave?” Brick asked Hadley.
“What happened? What’s wrong?” Kimber asked, running down the stairs to meet them.
“About ten minutes,” Hadley told him, ignoring her mother. “I tried calling you, Uncle Brick, and you didn’t pick up. So I kept calling while I stayed with William,” Hadley reported.
“Ten minutes,” Brick repeated. He handed Hadley to her mother and raced down the hall.
It was worse than he feared, the scene that met him. The air smelled of the metallic tang of blood. White was dead. His shirt was saturated dark brown. Glassy eyes staring up at the ceiling, frozen in surprise. A pool of blood spread out beneath.
“Dad,” Brick yelled, racing down the ramp. His father sat with his back against the wall. There was more blood there. On the drywall. On his shirt. On his pants.
He looked old, pale, fragile.
“I’m okay,” William panted. “Go after your girl.”
Brick searched his father’s torso, tearing his shirt in two. There was a neat little hole in his chest above his heart.
“Can you breathe okay?” he asked.