I Spy a Dark Obsession

But Dietz would die first.

Bastian inspected his third glass of cabernet and mused over how quickly the first two had gone down. He supposed he should monitor his alcohol consumption, but for the life of him, he couldn’t think why.

Oh yes. That little detail about his lover being out in the city, possibly in danger, and the idea of Bastian suddenly getting an emergency call and having to rush off — that’s why.

With regret, he set the glass aside and tried to focus on the women’s conversation. But chatter about every subject from home decorating to which brand of bra was the most supportive gave him the yawns. His assertion that bras should be banned was met with giggles before they went back to talking about girly things.

Emma stood and stretched. “I have to hit the powder room. Would you be a sweetie and get us another bottle of white?” she asked him, smiling impishly.

“Sure. Be right back.” He needed an excuse to get up and do something, anyway.

Picking up his glass, he headed to the kitchen for another bottle and to dump the remnants of his wine. Now that his worry about Michael had returned, no way could he take another sip. Ridiculous, because the man had everything under—

Three steps into the kitchen, he froze. Two legs clad in dress pants were sticking out from behind the big island. “What the… Simon?” Hurrying over, he plunked down the glass, skirted the island, and crouched beside the elderly gentleman, wincing some at the pain in his healing leg. “Simon? Shit!”

With two fingers, he pressed the side of the man’s neck, holding his breath until he found a pulse. It was slow but steady. But his relief was short-lived. “Dammit.”

Blood. A small pool of it around the man’s head. Had he slipped and fallen, then hit his head on the island? Or had a stroke or a heart attack and then fallen? Christ, he had to call an ambulance. Now. Bolting to his feet, he spun and reached for the phone on the counter.

And found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. A weapon held by a very smug Robert Dietz.

“Don’t make a sound,” Dietz whispered, a maniacal grin plastered on his face. “Turn around. Any heroics, and I shoot you like I did that worthless security man, then the others.”

Seething with hatred, he put his back to the man, keeping his hands visible. “What did you do to Simon? He needs help.”

“Gave him a headache. Perhaps he’ll recover to seek another employer, since his present one will be deceased.” Cold metal pressed into his temple. “Walk.”

Slowly, he walked into the living room, fervently wishing he had a way to warn the women. When they came in, Katrina was still on the sofa, waiting for more wine. Emma hadn’t returned, and he hoped she saw what was going on before she came back.

Katrina must’ve sensed their movement, and swiveled in her seat. “Took you long enough to find—” Her eyes widened and she gasped. “How did you get in here?”

“Your security man was good enough to override the alarm system before I put a bullet in him for trying to hit the silent alarm.”

As Bastian was forced to move around the end of the sofa, he caught Katrina’s gaze and glanced desperately at Emma’s wineglass. She nodded imperceptibly to let him know she got the message. Dietz shoved him into a chair, and while the man was distracted, she deftly snatched the empty glass, laid it on the floor, and pushed it underneath the sofa with her heel. Smart girl.

“How do you plan to get away with this? Michael will be back soon, and he’ll know something is wrong the minute he arrives,” she declared, a little louder than necessary. In his self-important glow, Dietz didn’t seem to notice.

“Oh, we have a while yet. I sent him on a couple of fool’s errands to buy myself some time. We’re going to have such fun together.” He laughed at his own sick joke. “What should we do first, I wonder? Shall I tie up lover boy here and make him watch while I fuck his lovely whore? Or just shoot you both in the head and wait to see Michael’s reaction before I kill him, as well?”

A furtive movement from the hallway leading to the powder room shot Bastian’s adrenaline into overdrive. He had to make sure Emma knew their captor’s identity without a doubt, and how he’d gained access to the house. “You’re a big man, aren’t you, Dietz? Shooting a guard and knocking out a helpless old man? And you had to do it all by your lonesome, since Michael broke up your group of Liberation assholes and, oh yes, blew Tio’s brains out.”

The shadow in the hallway retreated just as a blow connected with the side of his head. He slumped, gritting his teeth through the waves of pain, riding it out through sheer will. He couldn’t pass out and leave Katrina to this lunatic’s mercy.

How much longer could he keep baiting the fucker before Dietz made good on his threat and pulled the trigger?

He took comfort in the fact that Emma was, even now, calling in the cavalry.

“For your information, I’m not alone,” Dietz hissed. “My men are waiting for Ross. He’s going to have quite a surprise in store.”

“If you say so.”

Hurry, Michael.

As they sped the last few miles toward the estate, Blaze’s cell phone rang. Blaze snatched it off the dash and barked a hello. Michael listened anxiously to the one-sided conversation.

“Slow down, angel. What?” Pause. “Dietz? Shit!” Pause. “Okay, you did good. Now get out of the house and — What do you mean you can’t?” Pause. “All right. Stay out of sight. We’ve got a team on the way to intercept them. I love you too, angel.” He pitched down the phone. “Fuck!”

“Tell me.” Michael could barely breathe.

“Dietz got in the house. Emma said he shot John and knocked out Simon. He’s holding Katrina and Bastian at gunpoint in your living room.”

“Fuck!” What a nightmare. When would this be over? “Why can’t she sneak out?”

“She overheard Dietz say he’s got a handful of his former Liberation flunkies guarding the grounds. Dietz doesn’t know she’s there, so she’s better off staying in the house, out of sight.”

“I agree — if she’ll actually stay hidden and not try to play the kick-ass heroine.”

“She does, and I’ll put her over my knee and spank her so hard she won’t sit without a foam donut for a month.”

Michael knew the Dom wasn’t kidding. “I’ll call Lawrence and let him know the situation, have him pull the team that he sent to the warehouse and send them to my estate instead. Since Lenny was supposed to wait three hours before calling to give me the false lead on the warehouse, Dietz will believe he’s got time to move. Hopefully that will make him overconfident and he’ll be slow.”

“True. But I think we should still dispatch teams to both addresses Lenny gave us, in case Dietz has men there. We can catch them all in one swoop.”

“You’re right.” Damn, he wasn’t thinking straight. “I want Lawrence’s team with us, though.”

“And phone McKay so he can bring extra medics for the injured.”

He placed the calls to both men, and warned Lawrence that Dietz’s men would be waiting. They’d have to go in quiet, dispatch the soldier wannabes, then sneak into the house and take Dietz by surprise. Nice and simple.

Right. By the time they parked about a mile from his house on a side road, his nerves were jumping like he was hopped up on crack. Lawrence and his team of six agents were waiting, making a total of nine of them. Those were good odds. At least that’s what he told himself to take his mind off his gut- wrenching terror of something happening to the people he loved.

It didn’t work, but he showed none of his fear as he ripped off the horrid wig and ball cap, leaving them behind in the car. He and Blaze approached Lawrence and the others, who waited for instructions.

“How many men does he have?” Michael asked without preamble.

“We’ve spotted a dozen, so we’re nearly even number-wise,” Lawrence said. “In reality, we have a big advantage over those Liberation dumb-asses, who are so poorly trained and lack any real military experience.”

“But they’re dumb-asses with guns, so they’re still dangerous,” Blaze cautioned.