Hour of Need (Scarlet Falls #1)(95)

“Drop it.” The cop pointed his weapon at Victor.

Mac pushed Julia behind him. His eyes sought and held Ellie’s gaze. Anger sharpened his features.

Victor pressed the gun to Ellie’s temple. The muzzle dug into her skin. “I’ll kill her if you follow me.”

He pulled her down the hallway and through the emergency exit door that led to the employee parking area behind the arena. The door closed with a heavy click. “Hurry.” He yanked her hair, throwing her off balance.

She stumbled, trying to keep up. “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m not going to prison for those little brats.” Victor headed for a black SUV parked twenty feet away. “I made one mistake. One. I let that little whore Regan seduce me, and I’ve been paying for it ever since. Stupid bitch wanted to keep the phone and video. She wanted to be able to watch it over and over. But I took it. If she wanted me to cover for her, she had to do it my way.”

“I don’t understand.”

But Victor ignored her and continued his manic, frustrated rant. “It’s all Kate’s fault, really. She heard me arguing with Regan and stole the phone. She said she was going to give it to the police. I reminded her of our past indiscretion. I told her I’d tell her husband she’d been in my bed if she turned the phone in. We fought for weeks. She was wavering, but I knew in the end she’d do the right thing, just like she broke off our affair to save her marriage.”

What phone? Shock numbed Ellie’s scalp. Victor slept with Regan and had an affair with Kate. Wait! That meant . . . “You had Kate and Lee killed. Why?”

Victor was lost in his own head. He shoved her toward his vehicle. “Get in.”

Light flashed as police cars poured into the parking lot. They blocked both exits. Cops angled vehicles and got out, drawing their weapons and pointing them at Victor and Ellie. Victor put his back against his SUV and pulled Ellie to his chest. “Don’t come any closer. I will kill her.”



“Mac says Julia is safe, but Victor has Ellie. He took her out the back door.” Grant ended the call.

The cop swung the car around the outside of the arena. Three patrol vehicles turned into the parking lot behind them.

“There!” Grant pointed across the parking lot. Victor dragged Ellie across the pavement by the hair. Fury and fear fused in Grant’s chest.

McNamara reached for the radio, called dispatch, and requested a sniper and hostage negotiator from the county. He angled the car and opened his door. His weapon was in his hand.

“Sniper won’t get here in time.” Grant joined the cop behind the engine block. They crouched, watching Victor and Ellie over the hood of the car. “He’s not waiting around to chat.”

If Grant could just get to Ellie without Victor shooting her, he’d kill the skating coach with his bare hands. He wanted to do it with a ferocity that should have alarmed him.

The patrol officer next to them took an AR-15 out of his trunk. He hunkered down behind his engine block and aimed at Victor over the hood of the car.

“Is he a good shot?” Grant asked.

McNamara glanced sideways. “Yes. If we can get a little space between them, and it seems as if he’s going to pull the trigger, Officer Tate can take him out.”

“Let her go, Victor,” the cop yelled. “You can’t get away.”

“We’re getting in the car and driving away.” He tugged Ellie toward the driver’s side door. The gun muzzle was pressed to her forehead. Ellie’s eyes were white-rimmed with fear as they met Grant’s. The thirty feet of pavement that separated them could’ve been a mile. The urge to kill surged through him. He wanted Victor’s throat under his hands.

“You’ll never get out of the parking lot,” McNamara retorted.

Grant’s heart thudded in his chest as he watched, unable to help. The rifleman shifted his position. Ellie’s head was too close to Victor’s. In Grant’s mind, he pictured Ellie’s face exploding into a red mist. The insurgent’s ruined face. Lee. Images crowded Grant’s brain, a nauseating slideshow of blood and death. How many people had he watched die? How many men had he seen maimed? Blown to pieces. Bleeding out onto the sand.

Victor moved sideways, his hand searching along the side of the vehicle for the door handle. His gaze shifted. The gun moved a few inches from Ellie’s temple. She moved quickly, swinging the ice skates in her hands over her shoulder and hitting Victor in the face. The gun went off, the blast echoing in the damp air. Blood spurted. Ellie fell to the ground. Grant’s heart stopped. He was on his feet and rounding the cop car as Officer Tate fired. Victor’s body jerked and fell sideways.

Grant and the cops raced across the asphalt. Ellie! Blood soaked her pale blue sweater. Grant skidded to his knees beside her, his hands on her head, seeking the damage. He had to stop the bleeding. She couldn’t be dead. She couldn’t.

“Grant.” She wriggled in his grip. “I’m all right.”

His fingers delved through her hair. Her hand came up and covered his, stopping his frantic examination of her scalp. “I’m OK. It’s Victor’s blood, not mine.”

Unable to comprehend her words, Grant turned. Victor was on his back. The cop’s bullet had caught him in the shoulder. They’d handcuffed him. One officer was applying pressure to the shoulder wound while another tried to stop the bleeding from a huge gash on his head. Ellie’s blow with the ice skate had split his forehead open. His skull gleamed white through the blood. Once Victor was restrained, an EMT took over.