Minutes to Kill (Scarlet Falls #2)(80)

“Over here,” a male voice answered.

Brody spotted figures in the forest. What the . . . ? Hannah was leaning against a tree, arms crossed, brows knitted. She appeared calm, but Brody could see the turmoil brewing behind her negotiation face. Next to her, a uniformed patrol officer stared at a man strung from a tree by his feet.

“Get me the fuck down from here,” the criminal barked.

“You want me to cut the rope?” Hannah pushed off the tree trunk and started toward him.

The criminal craned his head to stare at the ground five feet below his face. His body twisted. “No!”

“Make up your mind.” She shrugged, her casual gesture belied by the fury in her eyes.

Brody’s gaze swept the scene. Hannah had strung the man up like a side of beef. He and the patrol officer exchanged a look of disbelief—and respect.

His gaze lifted to Hannah. He walked over to her and pressed his forehead to hers. She’d told him she was all right, but until he’d seen her, touched her, his heart had refused to process that fact. “I can’t believe you caught him. You’re amazing.”

She was totally badass, and he was damned glad.

Her eyes were bleak. “Show him the picture, officer.”

The patrol cop held out a cell phone. It looked like Hannah’s cell phone case. Brody shaded the screen. Oh, shit. Chet.

“He won’t tell me where he is.” Hannah’s mouth thinned.

“We’ll find him.” Brody put an arm around her. More sirens approached. He went over to the patrol cop. “Let’s get him down.”

The cop grabbed the thug’s shoulders. Brody released the gear spool on the winch, and the officer lowered the man to the ground.

The cop handed Brody a wallet. “His name is Mick Arnette. He’s from Las Vegas.”

“Is this the man who attacked you in Vegas?” Brody asked Hannah.

Hugging her waist, she nodded. Her eyes were bright with moisture. Her control was slipping.

Brody pointed toward the phone the patrol officer was holding. “Where is the man in the picture?”

But Mick claimed his rights before Brody even arrested him. Probably not his first brush with the law.

“I’m not talking unless you let me go. And if you don’t, I want a lawyer.”

Brody walked over to Hannah.

Her face was drawn and strained. “It’s going to drop well below freezing tonight.”

“I know. We’ll find him.”

“Mick said if he doesn’t call his brother by eight”—Hannah checked her watch—“that’s less than three and a half hours from now, the brother will kill Chet.”

Brody took the cell phone from the officer. In the photo, Chet was lying on weeds. There was a wall or something behind him. Was he behind a building? Disappointment filled Brody. There was some writing on the wall in the corner of the picture. Brody expanded the photo, but the image was too blurry to identify the letters.

Chet could be anywhere.



The Scarlet Falls interview room was furnished with one metal table, bolted to the floor, and four chairs. Mick Arnette sat in one chair. A uniformed SFPD officer stood a few feet away.

“OK, Mick.” Brody took a seat across the table. “Where is he?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mick leaned back. His handcuffs clanged as he intertwined his fingers. Attached to the ring in the center of the metal table, he didn’t have much room to maneuver. His smile was malicious. “I’ll talk to Hannah Barrett. No one else.”

“That’s not going to happen.” His relaxed posture sent anger crawling up Brody’s throat. He wanted to grab Mick by the hair and slam his face into the table. Never had he been tempted to hurt a suspect. He’d always played by the rules. But today, with Chet’s life on the line and the knowledge that this man had hurt Hannah and abducted a teenage girl, Brody had a much better understanding of what had driven Grant to beat the hell out of the man who’d killed his brother. This was personal.

Hannah would talk to this guy. No question. She would never be able to resist helping others.

Brody tossed Mick’s phone onto the table. “Why don’t you unlock this for me?”

“Why don’t you get a warrant? The courts have ruled that I have an expectation of privacy when it comes to the contents of my cell phone.”

Great. Another criminal who was an expert on the law.

“The warrant is on its way,” Brody said. To expedite the warrant, Stella had driven to the courthouse to personally obtain the judge’s signature. A technical expert was on hand to attempt to track the phone’s location and usage history the second the warrant was issued. If Mick communicated with his brother by phone, with the number and the records from the carrier, the police might be able to ping the brother’s current location.

“Don’t expect me to make this easier for you,” Mick said.

“Why are you in New York, Mick?”

“I’m not answering any questions from you until I talk to a lawyer.”

Brody left the room. He went to the end of the hall and ducked into the conference room. Hannah sat at the long table. She’d already given him her statement, but Brody didn’t want her out of his sight, not with Mick’s cohort running loose.