Page 97 of Whispers at Dusk
She believed him.
Mason would know what to do.
She just hoped he would hurry...
Death, someone’s death, was imminent.
Keep him talking, keep him talking, play every angle...
“Okay! Gideon heard you. I’ll tie myself up. Yeah, of course, I want to live. But while we’re waiting... You talk about idiots! That pair you had working for you in Norway. Now, they were idiots. Did you kill the girls in England or in France? Or did you convince someone in those countries you were a vampire king, and you could get them to a point where they’d earn their way to immortality? Come on, you’ve got me! Share some info with me.”
She had the rope he’d handed her. She made a pretense of trying to figure out how to do decent knots on her own wrists.
“The world is filled with idiots. I’m just cleaning it out.”
“But that doesn’t answer my question. Did you do all the killing?”
“I do love Paris! I mean, who doesn’t love Paris? And the girls there... Well, it is the city for romance. If you were really lucky, I would take you there.”
“Because I brought down Chase LaRue.”
“Well, you screwed up.”
“Screwed up? I was part of the team that brought him—and his accomplice—down!”
Dante stared at her strangely. His face was hard.
“You didn’t kill him,” he said quietly. “You should have shot the bastard.”
“I told you. I trynotto shoot people.”
“Guess what? I don’t like to shoot people, either. But I do shoot them when it’s necessary.”
He waved the Glock in front of her nose. “And Special Agent Tall, Dark, and Deadly... He’ll come to that door. And he’ll think we can bargain. But him... That’s a big dude. I don’t like to shoot people, but I’m going to take aim and put a bullet through his head so fast he’ll never know what hit him.” He laughed. “Maybe your Gideon ghost will be there to greet him and to explain! Oh, wow, and if he’s a ghost, he’ll still get to see every little thing I do to you!”
“Mason, he’ll shoot you the minute you step in!” Lapierre warned.
“Not to worry—I’m there, and I hear him, too. And I won’t be playing it his way. The place isn’t on the map,” Mason said, explaining himself and warning Edmund Taylor and Jeanne Lapierre they might be heading to the wrong area. “I saw them disappear around a tree. Heading that way—from what he’s said, I think it’s going to be a place that was owned by Chase LaRue. And, of course, Dante now revels in the fact he can take it over—property that belonged to the man who bullied him. I’m heading closer. But he’s freed one of the hostages, and—”
He broke off.
He’d heard what Dante had been saying, just as Lapierre and Taylor had heard every word that had been spoken near Della.
She was there, staggering around a tree, gripping it hard to stay on her feet, silent tears streaming down her face.
She saw him. For a minute, pure terror entered her eyes.
“It’s okay—I’m FBI,” he said softly.
“Help!” she managed. “Help me!”
Then she collapsed into the brush and on down to the ground. He rushed over to her, knowing Dante had wanted him desperate to find a way to save a dying woman—before finding Della and the others on his own.
He crashed through the brush as quietly as he could and knelt quickly, seeking a pulse on the girl. She was alive, yes, but her pulse was weak, faint. She had been bound. Abrasions on her wrists and ankles were deep and red as well. She was pale. Bleeding from the neck, he thought. But she was still breathing shallowly; she was alive.
She hadn’t fought him. While she was bruised and bleeding, she had no defensive wounds. His method was to drug his victims so they couldn’t fight back.
“I need help out here fast—” he began.
