Dead Girl Running (Cape Charade #1)(79)

Whatever Kellen had expected, this wasn’t it.

Without hesitation, Temo lowered his pistol. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing?”

“My sister… I brought her back here to live with me. My mother went to prison for drug use, and this bastard was planning to sell Regina to work the streets.”

“I’m her stepfather!” Mr. Dyed Hair shouted.

Temo pointed his pistol at him. “Chulo! Pimp! You never married my mother. You’ve got no rights to my sister as a parent or guardian.”

“No!” Regina screamed. “Don’t make me go back with him!”

Temo paced toward the guy on the floor. “If I killed you and dumped you off the cliff, no one here would know or care.”

The tense situation explained so much about Temo and Adrian and their recent suspicious activities—but this had nothing to do with smuggling and murder. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Kellen asked.

Temo struggled for words. He gestured. He looked hopeless and defiant. “I can’t work all the time, take care of the resort like I promised. Regina’s eleven. She’s been abused and neglected. And…she’s eleven.”

He gave her age twice, as if it should tell Kellen everything—and in a way, it did.

He said, “She needs me. I have to be here for her.”

“Temo, I understand. Annie will understand.” Kellen was incredulous. “I told you I’d talk to her. Why would you think keeping your sister here would be a problem?”

“Mitch said—”

“That lousy bastard.” Mitch had misled Temo—and Kellen. Sucker and lousy, distrustful friend that she was, she had fallen for it. Mitch hadn’t been around long enough to be the Librarian, but he certainly could be one of the assistants. Had he been involved in the fight the night before? He showed no obvious signs of damage, but that meant nothing. He was a good fighter and an excellent survivor. Maybe all his injuries were hidden beneath his clothes.

“I told you so, Temo,” Adrian said. “I told you Mitch was full of shit.”

“Thank you, Adrian, for the testimonial.” She holstered her pistol. “Guys, don’t worry—we’ll deal about Regina.” She looked at Regina. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

The girl trembled and nodded.

“As for him—” Kellen gestured at Mr. Dyed Hair and his bloody leg “—I don’t care if you shoot him and drop him off the cliff. But clean up the mess afterward.”

The pimp gave a howl of objection.

Like she cared. “Guys, when you can, I need help at the resort.”

“We’ll be there as soon as we handle him.” Temo waved his gun at the pimp. “Shouldn’t take too long.”

Adrian focused on Kellen. “What kind of problems are we talking, Captain?”

She said, “Be prepared for ambush, deadly force, sabotage. Trust no one.”

“Captain, you might put a cap on.” Adrian removed his and tossed it to her.

She pulled it on, nodded at Temo’s sister, whirled and ran for her ATV.

Behind her, someone slammed the door closed.

She liked to think they were going to kill the pimp. Probably not, but a guy who preyed on desperate women and little girls would be no loss to the world.

And talk about no loss to the world… Mitch Nyugen and his boss, the Librarian, Nils Brooks. From the start, she had been suspicious of Nils: his art degree, his CIA connections, the re-formation of the MFAA. Yet she’d done her research, knowing full well he could have the capacity to change internet reality.

Nils Brooks was the leader who had organized the destruction of world archaeology sites for profit. Wealthy collectors paid him to destroy history and sell it to them. He made money. He killed his people to assure their cooperation. He cut off their hands. She had believed that Nils Brooks had been hurt helping Mr. Gilfilen. What a joke. He’d been hurt attacking Mr. Gilfilen. Nils Brooks was the Librarian.

As she drove toward the resort, she called the security center.

The connection crackled and failed.

She didn’t believe this was a natural outage. Not tonight. Rain fell, but this wasn’t a big storm; this wasn’t numbing cold, blasting wind or sleet. This was far too convenient. Someone had sabotaged the resort’s communications network. The CB radio in Annie’s office would work to call in outside help—but she didn’t have time to wait.

As she drove, she planned her rescue of Carson Lennex. She needed help. She needed someone at her back, so she veered for the maintenance garage. She used her pass card to open the door and stuck her head in. Lights were on, but dim. So the electricity was out and everything was running on generator. One of the resort’s working pickup trucks, a Ford F-250 crew cab, sat over the hydraulic lift, waiting to be raised and its oil changed. From the back of the shop, she heard the clink of tools. “Birdie!” she called. “Grab your pistol and your Kevlar vest. I need your help!”

No answer.

She frowned and stepped inside. “Birdie?”

Someone gave a muffled scream. A warning.

Kellen dived to the floor, aiming for the pickup, skidding along the concrete.

A bullet slammed into the door where she’d been standing. She’d walked into an ambush.