McCabe Page 21

  “Rowena? What’s going on? My phone must’ve switched itself off. Why have you been calling me?”

  “Because the pocket knife I grabbed from Ron’s truck isn’t going to protect me from what’s bound to be coming.” She glanced at the camera to the left of the elevator. Not giving McCabe a chance to reply to her remark, she said, “I’m in Las Vegas with Robbie.”

  “What the fuck are you doing here?”

  Annoyed at his tone, Rowena spun back to the elevator door. “Looking for you and James. And it wasn’t my idea. Robbie wanted—”

  She broke off sharply when she spied the stricken expression on Robbie’s face. A shadow had fallen across the door in front of her. Before she could turn to look at the person who’d cast it, Robbie stifled a scream and crossed her forearms in a protective X over her chest.

  “No,” she whispered. “Please, no.”

  A split second later, something struck Rowena’s head. Robbie’s features wavered. The white wall and the elevator door swam. And everything around her went black.

  …

  She’d done the exact thing he’d told her not to do. She’d come to Las Vegas. With Robbie. And now they’d been cut off.

  McCabe had heard Robbie’s tearful plea followed by a thump and then—nothing.

  He ran for his truck. But where the hell should he go? Where had Robbie taken her? Where was Mockerie? Had he contacted Robbie, said something to manipulate her into coming after him?

  Or was there a far worse scenario in play out here?

  McCabe’s stomach muscles constricted as he started the engine and shot out of the lot. Part of him knew, dammit. Part of him had always known.

  “Son of a bitch,” he growled.

  He punched a series of numbers into his phone while he drove.

  And his blood froze when he heard Beckett’s recorded voice come back telling him that he was otherwise occupied and to please try again later. The message was punctuated by a chuckle—one that didn’t belong to Beckett.

  …

  Rowena woke up slowly to a room full of shadows. A single white door far across from her was illuminated by a silvery light that speared upward from the base.

  She swore whoever’d struck her had split her skull in two. Even the smallest movement made her feel sick.

  But she had to sit up. Had to focus and figure out where she was.

  Neither her hands nor her feet were bound. Rolling to her side, she levered up onto her elbow. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she lowered her head for a moment so her stomach could settle.

  Through pain-glazed eyes, she spied Robbie on the floor next to her. She was lying on her back with one hand resting on her stomach. Reaching out, Rowena shook her arm. When Robbie moaned and stirred, she let her fingers fall away.

  Okay, good. We’re both alive. For the moment.

  “Rowena?” Robbie’s lips moved. “Are you there?”

  “More or less.” She closed her eyes as her mind began to spiral in on itself. “Did whoever hit me hit you?”

  “Yes, but not as hard I don’t think. I might have fainted. I’m not sure.” Sitting up with difficulty, she pressed a hand to her forehead. “Do you know where we are?”

  “White dungeon would be my guess. Possibly in one of the rooms behind the panels.”

  “James won’t hurt me,” Robbie maintained. “I’m his mother. A son wouldn’t kill his mother.”

  Rowena summoned a weak smile. “We can hope. We know he’ll kill me, though.” Easing her eyes open, she spotted the light. The room and her stomach felt steadier now, but her head still hurt like hell. “Was it James who hit us?”

  “No. It was another man. He looked like Lyle Wagner.”

  “Who?”

  “An actor. I think he used to be on the Carol Burnett Show, but I could be wrong. Amanda watches all those old series. I prefer action movies myself. Do you go to the movies much, Rowena?”

  A hazy alarm went off in Rowena’s head, but she ignored it. People reacted differently in situations of fear.

  “Did you enjoy the Terminator films?”

  Rowena shoved herself all the way upright. “Not really, no. I think we need to look for a way out of here, Robbie. We can talk about movies some other time.”

  Robbie’s smile was oddly esoteric. “There’s no way out of here. No way at all. My son’s very thorough in situations like these. Had the hardest time learning how to use a knife and fork properly, but if he locked you up, you stayed locked up until he let you go. He locked me in the basement once. Didn’t let me out for two days. I tried everything I could think of to escape.” She shook her head. “Dealing with James as a child was a mental challenge few people would be up to taking on.”

  Rowena rubbed her temples. She needed her mind to clear. What was Robbie really saying about James? It seemed important that she understand.

  “How did you deal with him?” she asked when Robbie paused.

  “Oh, tricks. Bribery. I knew he had problems early on. We all hoped he’d grow out of them, but as Amanda continued to point out, that wasn’t likely to happen. James’s father believed her. Max wanted to send James away before he poisoned—both literally and figuratively—the people around him. Of course, I convinced him to hold off. Max, I mean.”

  Suspicion wormed its way through Rowena’s brain. “How did you do that? Did you use Bert to influence James?”

  Even in the dim light, she saw Robbie’s face brighten. “Yes, yes I did. How clever of you to realize that. From the very start, Bert was able to control James’s volatile nature.”

  Rowena watched her features change slightly. A sense of dread slithered in. “Control or manipulate?”

  Robbie chuckled. “A little of both I should think. It didn’t matter. The point is, James listened to Bert. Sometimes threatened, often despised, but never flicked off like he did the rest of us. Don’t you hate it when people flick you off as if you were a pesky fly? I swear if Bert hadn’t stepped in, I don’t know what would have become of poor James.”

  Poor James? Oh shit.

  “Two days in the basement.” Robbie sighed. “Two and half up in the attic. McCabe found me that time and let me out. Now there was a good and normal child. I urged James to emulate him, but no, he had his own ideas about things, and normal wasn’t going to be any part of them.” She lowered her lashes, tipped her head. “He’ll come, Rowena. He’s just ramping up the fear for the moment.”

  Like a fog lifting in her brain, Rowena suddenly saw the truth. The terrifying, ugly truth of who and what this woman was. “James is ramping up the fear? Or Bert is? Or is the line too blurred for you to see it anymore?” As she spoke, Rowena eased up onto her knees. She wouldn’t panic, she promised herself. All that would get her was dead. She felt for the knife she’d slipped into her back pocket earlier. It was still there. So was her phone.

  She curled her fingers carefully around her cell and drew it out. In front of her Robbie’s lips curved.

  “Bert’s always been a blurred line to me. It’s really a war of wills in the end, at least that’s how I see it. Divide and conquer. Both sides can hold strong for a time—a very long time in some cases. But eventually there must be a winner.”

  Keeping the phone concealed at her side, Rowena made herself ask, “Who do you think that winner will be?”

  The smile on Robbie’s lips grew. “Oh, Bert I should think.”

  Although she knew the answer, Rowena wanted to hear Robbie say it. “Bert was never James’s imaginary friend, was he?”

  “Of course not. And I can see you know that now. But I had to tell you a lie you’d believe, didn’t I?” Opening her eyes, she leaned forward slightly. “Is that a phone you’re holding?”

  “Battery’s dead,” Rowena told her as she tucked the phone back into her pocket. “I already tried speed dialing McCabe. There’s nothing.”

  Robbie sat back. “Pity. Contacting McCabe would be the logical thing to do.”

  “I thought t
hat at first. Now I’m not so sure. Call him so he can come rushing in and wind up trapped with me?”

  Robbie hesitated, then chuckled, rising to her knees as well. “Even in pain, you’re bright. And here I thought I was playing my part so well.”

  “You were.” Rowena kept her gaze locked on the other woman’s face. “My instincts finally kicked in. Also, a sudden, horrible thought occurred to me. Robbie’s short for Roberta, isn’t it? Robbie and Bert.” Although breathing through the ball of terror in her chest was difficult, Rowena kept her voice level and her eyes glued to Robbie. “Bert wasn’t James’s imaginary friend, was he? Bert was and always has been you.”

  “Mmm.” The dreamy expression on Robbie’s face began to fade. “I warned James right off the top that you were smart. Far too smart for your own good. And for his. Ah, well, wayward children so seldom listen to their mothers.”

  “How long have you been Bert?” Rowena asked her.

  “Most of my life as far as I recall. Or did you mean more recently?”

  “More recently.”

  “Well, let me see.” Robbie ticked the time off on her fingers. “I believe I can cop to a few hours now. Ever since I whacked Amanda. I will confess I didn’t particularly want to do that. Amanda’s family, after all. But needs must on occasion… Are you sure your phone’s dead?”

  “Yes. I haven’t charged it for two days. Tell me, have I ever actually met Robbie?”

  “Certainly. I had no objection to cutting her loose from time to time. However, circumstances change, and people can become a pain. Robbie was growing suspicious. She was never sure about me, you see. Unfortunately, lately, I’ve had reason to become more active. More activity engenders more blank spots in Robbie’s day. Blank spots equal fear, and fear leads to babbling to the wrong set of ears.”

  “McCabe?”

  Throwing back her head, Robbie laughed. “Ah, yes McCabe. Now he has become a problem. More than you can possibly know. Poor Robbie. She’s been so torn. I decided it was time to put her out of her misery.”

  Oh, shit. Rowena’s heart sank, but she wanted to hear, needed to know. “Where is Robbie?” she asked cautiously.

  The woman in front of her made a starburst with her fingers. “Exactly where I imagine you’re thinking she is. But I’ll be kind—unusual for me—and simply say she’s moved on.”

  “Moved on as in you’ve locked her up?”

  Leaning forward the woman who was now Bert, leered at her. “Not locked up, my dear. Killed. Robbie no longer exists. She’s as dead as you’re going to be.” The smile she turned on Rowena was both anticipatory and vicious. “Eventually.”

  …

  McCabe was within a city block of the Lily Koi when the text came through. It was from Mockerie and it read:

  La, la, la, la, la. White Dungeon. La, la, la, la, la…

  He had her. Robbie had brought her right to him, or rather Bert had.

  He could have prevented this if he hadn’t been so fucking determined to be blind. He could have gotten her the help she needed, stopped her from influencing Mockerie the way she obviously had. But he’d wanted Bert to be a manifestation created by Mockerie’s twisted mind. He’d known though, hadn’t he? Or if not known, somewhere inside he’d at least suspected the truth. Fuck!

  Did it help that even Beckett hadn’t been certain, and he’d been watching Robbie like a hawk at work just in case?

  No, dammit, it didn’t help at all. Because now both Mockerie and Bert had Rowena in the white dungeon, exactly where Mockerie wanted her.

  So where the hell did that leave him, McCabe wondered as the tension inside him billowed to mammoth proportions. And with what weapons?

  He screeched to a stop across from the Lily Koi, gave the palatial structure a long stare, and picked up his cell phone.

  “Yeah, what?” A harried-sounding Dancer answered on the first ring.

  “Mockerie has Rowena.”

  “Great. Perfect. And I’ve got Amanda.”

  McCabe frowned. “Got Amanda where?”

  “In the hospital. Don’t worry. I think she’s going to be okay—I hope. I started to call you, but I figured the way you rocketed out of here earlier, you had enough stuff. Then when I tried again later, your phone was off.”

  “That was an accident.” One he’d kick himself for until they lowered him into the ground. A situation that might not be far in the future if he didn’t think of a way to stop Mockerie from torturing and killing Rowena. “If Amanda’s okay, I need you to go back to the hotel. How far away are you?”

  “Twenty minutes. I followed the ambulance in my truck.”

  “Break records getting back to Carmina. Go on to my computer and into the confidential files. I’ll give you the codes. I want to know who texted me.”

  “Uh, okay. Why?”

  “Just backtrack and get a message through to my office, Dancer. Tell the duty person I’m heading into the white dungeon. I’m playing a hunch.”

  “It better be a fucking good one if you’re going in there. You know there are such things as cops and other forms of backup.”

  “Yeah, and if Mockerie sees even one wrong person, Rowena’s dead. I don’t have a choice, I have to play his game.”

  “And if you lose?”

  McCabe hardened his eyes and his heart. “I don’t intend to lose. Not when the stakes are this high.”

  “Great. And you’re going to avoid that how?”

  A grim smile crossed McCabe’s lips. “I’m gonna cheat.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Robbie sat on a raised white block in front of her. She had a slick-looking .22 caliber gun on her lap, drawn from the waistband of her pants.

  Rowena thought longingly of her own gun, which she hadn’t had either the opportunity or the foresight to bring. Not that it would have made a difference. Whoever had struck her might have let her keep a harmless pocket knife, but they would undoubtedly have removed anything more dangerous than that.

  Although she was aware that reasoning wouldn’t work, she decided to give it a shot. What else could she do?

  “I thought you loved McCabe,” she remarked and prayed her voice wasn’t wavering. “You acted like you did.”

  Bert—because she was Bert now—offered her a smug smile.

  “Robbie loved him very much. More than you can possibly know. I always thought it was unfortunate that his parents didn’t have a lot of time for him. And James was such a dreadful influence. It’s a miracle to my mind that McCabe didn’t turn out worse than him.” She winked. “Don’t tell James I said this, but of the two of them, McCabe was far, far smarter. More inventive, much more capable of seeing the big picture. James lacks woefully in both those areas.”

  “He’s inventive enough when it comes to torturing and killing people.”

  “Yes, but things like that don’t make money, do they? Or build empires. James can be brilliant in business when he bothers to focus. Unfortunately, he’s been doing less and less of that lately.” Her eyes gleamed in the poor light. “Of course, we know why that is, don’t we, Rowena?”

  Rowena raised her head, met the other woman’s stare. “He pursued me, not the other way around.”

  “You’re beautiful. And clever. And you’d been in love with McCabe. More importantly, McCabe had been in love with you. Likely still was, in James’s opinion. There are reasons why people walk away, my dear, and they’re not always what they appear.”

  Rowena’s insides knotted, but she left the seeds of doubt taking root alone for the moment. Bert’s hand was moving restlessly over the gun in her lap, and her gaze kept flicking upward. “You expect James any minute, don’t you?”

  “Sadly, yes. He knows you’re here, and I guarantee he’ll make sure McCabe knows you’re here as well. I’m not looking forward to what will eventually come tonight. I’m pondering what I might do to prevent the carnage.”

  Surprised, Rowena arched her brows. “You don’t want James to kill me?”

 
Robbie gave her an amused look. “Oh, I don’t give a good goddamn what he does to you. I’d just rather he didn’t kill McCabe.”

  Her light laugh sent a pricking chill along Rowena’s spine. “It shocks me a bit to discover I’m actually a tad sentimental. I wonder if James will be. Killing you really should be enough, don’t you think? And you have a son together. Certainly, he’ll have to be considered. Like father, like child,” she teased with a cruel glitter in her eyes.

  Rowena’s fingernails bit into the palms of her hands when she balled her fists. “James isn’t going to touch Parker. McCabe made sure of that.”

  “Yes, and he’s an extremely thorough man. Ah, well.” Bert’s tone lightened. “We’ll deal with that problem when you’re gone.” Standing, she began to pace. “You do understand this is very much a ‘like father, like child’ situation we have here.”

  The lump in Rowena’s throat wouldn’t allow her to speak so she settled for leveling a silent glare at the other woman.

  Using the tip of her gun to emphasize her point, Bert said, “I know your phone’s not dead. I also know you’re refraining from speed dialing McCabe because you know this is a trap. He discovers where you are, rushes in, and click, the lock turns. We’re all at James’s mercy. Except I know how to control him.”

  Rowena wrapped the fingers of her right hand around the heart-shaped pendent McCabe had given her. “If you can control him, then you can stop him. I’m the one who tricked James into believing I was dead. Let him kill me and be done with it.”

  “Oh, I do wish it were that simple.” Bert swung the gun back and forth. “But it isn’t. James and McCabe have their own history, their own feelings, their own issues to sort out if you will… That’s a lovely heart you’re wearing, Rowena. When did McCabe give it to you?”

  “Not long ago.” Rowena ran her fingertip over the smooth silver surface. “Why? Was it yours?”

  “Amanda’s. Once upon a time. Many years ago.” Her smile came and went in a blink. “I was never as sentimental as she was.”

  For the first time, Rowena noticed that the pendent wasn’t a single, solid piece. It had a slit that ran all the way around the outside, bisecting it. Frowning, Rowena glanced down. A locket?