practically at a church. Try saying a prayer if you think it'll help.'
Cupping his hand under her chin, he yanked her head back and stroked her neck with his icy, wet fingers. With the gun still to her ear, he whispered, 'Seeing you so submissive, it's a real turn-on. Every woman should know her place.'
And to Krueger lying on the wet asphalt, he changed his tone and ordered, 'Get up, before she kicks your ass again.'
Krueger raised up on his elbows and drew the back of his hand over his mouth—the look in his eyes downright lethal. In a slow and deliberate manner, he stood, never taking his eyes off her.
'I think you really pissed him off.' His vulgar laugh grated her nerves.
Raven's eyes darted to the left then right, looking for her next opportunity to strike back. But the man didn't give her a chance.
'Tie her up.'
Her hands were yanked behind her. She felt her wrists being bound, the sound of duct tape tearing off the roll.
And to make matters worse, her phone erupted a second time, calling attention to her only lifeline. It must be Christian again. An arm reached from behind her and tugged at the phone on her belt. The man's hand palmed her in a vile manner, retrieving her badge.
'She's got an empty holster. Where's her gun?'
Another voice yelled, 'Check the car, the floorboard on the passenger side. I seen it fall.'
She shut her eyes tight for an instant, then asked, 'What's this all about?' No answer. She tried again. 'You have my badge. You know I'm a police officer with the Chicago PD.'
'Oh, believe me, I know exactly who you are, Detective Mackenzie.'
A hand shoved her to the ground, and her feet were restrained in duct tape. She was going nowhere, trussed like a pig going to slaughter. Unceremoniously, she was jerked to her feet by the collar of her coat. Strong hands grasped both of her elbows. She teetered on her feet, unable to move. The man whose voice she'd come to recognize stepped around to face her.
Gray dead eyes.
'You.' She couldn't hide her reaction. 'Logan McBride.'
'At your service.' He looked surprised but eventually smiled, touching a finger to his forehead in a mock salute. His looks didn't improve with the gesture. 'Now, let's not keep Father Antonio waiting.'
'If you've hurt him—' Her threat fell hollow.
And by the look on McBride's face, he wasn't intimidated in the slightest. A grimace twisted his expression.
'I've heard enough from you, Mackenzie. You've got a big mouth, just like your daddy.'
He cut a piece of duct tape from the roll with a sharp knife. She watched him make the slice and wondered if this blade had slit Mickey Blair's throat. Jerking her head back, he stuck the tape across her mouth, shutting her up for good.
'Take her SUV and follow us to the location we talked about. Get going.' In an instant, she heard Christian's car start up and screech away. 'Let's get out of here,' he ordered.
Hoisted from the ground, she was thrown over a man's shoulder. Bile rose hot from her belly. She dangled helplessly, her arms and legs useless. But she still had her mind. She could think.
Where was Father Antonio? Since McBride had his cross, she assumed the priest was being held or already dead. The injustice toward the innocent cleric enraged her. And another thing twisted her gut, ever since the break-in at her home. McBride had more to do with her father's past than Christian's. What was McBride's connection to Mickey Blair? Instinct told her McBride had killed the man, but for what reason? None of this made sense.
Thrown into the back of a dark-colored and win-dowless utility van, she heard the doors slam shut. Cocooned in darkness. As the engine rumbled and the vehicle lurched forward, a sense of foreboding seized her heart.
Something else was very wrong.
None of these men had made an effort to hide his face. Hell, McBride downright flaunted his ugly mug, not caring much how she recognized him. He even used Krueger's name without regard for secrecy. Raven felt certain they had no intention of letting her go. No doubt in her mind.
She'd have to use her brain and fight like hell if she hoped to make it out alive.
CHAPTER 15
The van finally came to a stop. In the dark, Raven listened for sounds of her captors as she wrestled with the duct tape binding her wrists. The damned tape hadn't budged the whole trip. She wrenched her jaw again, hoping to open her mouth, but nothing.
The intensity of the rain dwindled to a faint tapping on the outside of the vehicle. Tensing her muscles, she rolled to face the door, prepared to kick it open. With her legs bound, she had no idea what she'd do next. But by the sound of things, more of McBride's men had gathered outside. She wouldn't stand a chance.
As the van door opened, she stared into the grim faces of three men, then heaved a sigh. She had to be patient, pick her spot.
'Look what Logan gift-wrapped for us.' One man laughed, his bristly face twisted to a sneer. 'Prime hunting stock.'
She wanted to respond, but her instincts warned her to play it smart. A hand gripped her ankle and tugged her effortlessly to the rear of the van. As she cleared the darkened interior, a man grabbed the edge of the tape covering her mouth and jerked it free, with no regard for her skin underneath.
'Hey, watch it.'
'Counting on it.' His offhand remark sent chills along her skin.
To regain control of her emotions, she focused on her surroundings, ignoring the manhandling of her body. Hoisted over a man's shoulder, she hung upside down. Strands of hair blocked her view. She craned her neck to see anything that would help. And adding insult to injury, the bastard carrying her stroked her ass like he'd discovered Aladdin's magic lamp.
'You cut me out of this duct tape, and I'll show you my idea of foreplay.'
The man laughed and gave her one final squeeze from his meaty hand. 'Not on your life, sweetheart.'
As far as she could see, shabby red brick buildings extended into the darkness, with only a small section of them illuminated by the headlights of the van and Christian's SUV. One of the delivery bays was open. Voices echoed inside. From the belly of the largest structure, several flashlights cut through the darkness. They cast an eerie glow, elongating the shadows of McBride's men. No electricity told her the buildings had been abandoned long ago.
None of this place looked familiar. The only signs of life were the vehicles parked in front. And she had a suspicion they'd be pulled into the old building, out of sight. When that happened, not a trace of her would be left behind. The decayed warehouse would swallow her whole.
Now she would know firsthand what Mickey had experienced.
Once inside, the stale smell of mildew stifled her breath. It was difficult enough to breathe upside down. Sparingly, she sampled the air as if it were toxic. But the sound of McBride's voice made her stomach lurch.
'Fresh meat for the slaughter.' He grabbed her hair and gave it a tug, straining the muscles of her neck. 'But first, I propose a little reunion.'
Enlisting the aid of one of the hangar crew, Fiona found a phone in the office. Behind a closed door, she gripped the receiver and stared at the buttons. Her chair creaked as she shifted her weight, her nerves getting the better of her.
Months had turned into years and the years spun into decades—and still she'd resisted making contact with Nicholas Charboneau. Now her pulse raced in anticipation of hearing his voice again, so soon after she'd seen him in Versailles. He had instigated that encounter, a complete surprise. This time, she would be reaching out to him, asking for a favor.
