“And I was free,” he said, turning back to meet Carrie’s wary gaze. “My next step was to help my fellow Kill Club members to escape.”
She licked her lips, her gaze shifting over his shoulder. Did she suspect there was a horde of crazed killers hiding in the shadows? Probably.
“How many?”
“Don’t worry about them.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
He offered a taunting smile, reaching beneath his sweater to pull out a handgun.
“Because I’m killing them.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Griff was crouched behind stacks of shingles, a bead of sweat trickling down his face.
He’d spent the past fifteen minutes inching his way through the shadowed warehouse, which had given him plenty of time to overhear the conversation between Ronnie Hyde and Carmen.
Now a part of his mind was struggling to process the fact that not only had Ronnie been responsible for killing those women and stalking Carmen, but he’d actually murdered her parents. It hummed in the background as he forced himself to concentrate on how he could get Carmen away from the crazed madman and escape without her being hurt.
From a distance he could see that Ronnie was holding something in his hand. Something that could be a weapon. Plus, there were too many towering racks and deep bays to see if they were alone in the warehouse. For all Griff knew there might be a half dozen bad guys lurking just out of sight.
The last thing he wanted was to put Carmen in even more danger.
What he needed was a distraction.
At his side, Matthew was staring wide-eyed, his face unnaturally pale. Confusion? Or a devious adversary playing his role to the bitter end? It was impossible to know for sure.
Yet another variable to put into the equation.
His companion’s lips parted, as if he was about to speak and give away their position. Instinctively, Griff reached to slam his hand over Matthew’s mouth. Then, grabbing the man’s arm, he hauled him back to the door just a few feet behind them.
He’d expected it to be a janitorial closet. Or maybe a storage room. Instead, a quick glance around gave him a stab of hope.
The security office.
Maybe for once luck would be on his side.
In the middle of the room was an L-shaped desk that was situated to offer a view of the four monitors hung on the far wall. Each screen displayed a black-and-white image of the warehouse as well as the parking lot. There was also a computer on the desk, that he was betting controlled the electronics for the entire building.
Shoving Matthew farther into the room, Griff shut the door and moved to study the monitors.
“I always knew there was something wrong with Ronnie Hyde, but I didn’t realize he was batshit crazy,” Matthew was muttering, pacing nervously toward the file cabinets before moving to stand directly behind Griff. “Did you hear him?”
Griff continued to stare at the flickering images, searching for any indication there was someone else in the warehouse.
“I heard,” he muttered, frustration bubbling through him as he realized the security cameras only managed to capture small, random sections of the warehouse. Whoever had been responsible for setting them up should be fired.
Abruptly Griff grimaced. He’d momentarily forgotten about the dead guard near the loading dock.
“He killed my aunt and uncle,” Matthew continued to babble, his voice harsh. “And now he has some sort of psychotic kill club.”
Griff pivoted to glare at the younger man. The monitors didn’t show enough for him to be confident that Ronnie was working alone. For now he was going to have to trust that Matthew wasn’t a traitor.
“I need you to focus,” he said.
Matthew sucked in a sharp breath, still clearly freaked out. “God, do you think he’s going to hurt Carrie?”
Griff muttered a curse. Was Matthew truly that stupid? Hard to believe.
“That’s exactly what he’s going to do if you don’t help me,” he snapped.
Matthew grimaced, struggling to regain command of his composure. He continued to tremble, on the verge of a full-out panic attack, but eventually he managed to meet Griff ’s fierce gaze.
“What do you want?”
“Is there a back way to get into that part of the warehouse?” Griff demanded.
Matthew furrowed his brow. “I don’t know.”
Griff raised the gun he still clutched in his hand. “Be careful how you answer.”
“Christ, man.” Matthew lifted a hand, taking a hasty step backward. “My family owns this place, I didn’t build the damn thing.”
Griff rolled his eyes, turning away from the younger man.
“Worthless,” he muttered, heading toward the desk.
He pulled out the rolling chair and sat down. Then, laying the gun on the desk, he fired up the computer. Matthew was clearly going to be zero help. Whether by design, or just because he was a shallow, vain piece of fluff.
Matthew watched him with a frown, possessing enough intelligence not to approach the desk. One wrong move and Griff was ready and willing to put a bullet in him.
“What are you doing?” Matthew demanded.
Griff easily found what he was looking for, and after hacking his way into the program, he soon had gained control of the security system.
“We need a distraction,” he said, locating the file he wanted and abruptly shoved himself to his feet.
Matthew was staring at him in confusion. “Are you going to set off the alarm?”
“Something better.” Griff grabbed his gun and waved it toward his companion. “Come here.”
Matthew stiffened. “Why.”
“I want you to stay in the office,” he said, pointing toward the chair.
“Thank God.” Matthew breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to take a seat. Coward.
Griff leaned over the man’s shoulder and pointed toward the return button on the keyboard.
“In two minutes I want you to press this,” he commanded.
“Why?”
“It will start an override of the sprinkler system,” Griff explained.
“You’re going to set off the sprinklers?”
“No, you’re going to,” Griff informed the younger man. “In exactly two minutes. Give me your phone.”
Predictably, Matthew blinked at him with bewilderment. Griff wondered if Vi Jacobs had dropped her oldest son on his head when he was young. That would explain a lot.
“My phone.”
“Just let me have it,” he growled, snatching the phone out of Matthew’s hand as soon as the man had pulled it from his pocket. Then, setting the timer for two minutes, he placed the phone on the desk. “When the timer stops, hit the button.” He once again pointed toward the return key. He was fairly sure that Matthew had already forgotten what he’d told him just seconds ago. “Got it?”
“Yeah, I got it,” Matthew promised.
Griff pointed his gun directly in the younger man’s face. “Screw me over and I’ll make sure you regret it.”
Surprisingly, Matthew didn’t cringe in fear. Instead, he sent Griff an angry glare.
“Just go save Carrie,” he said.
With no choice but to hope Matthew was capable of performing the simple task—oh, and wasn’t plotting to stab Griff in the back—he turned to leave the office.
He scurried along the nearest line of shelves and darted toward one of the forklifts that was parked in the bay. He wanted to be as close as possible when the sprinklers went off.
Peering around the back of the heavy equipment, his gut twisted as he watched Ronnie point a gun directly into the face of a cringing Carmen.
Time was running out.
He glanced up, impatiently waiting for the sprinklers to kick on. Nothing. Seconds ticked past. Then minutes.
Still nothing.
“Shit,” he breathed.
Matthew had either bolted as soon as Griff had left him alone in the office, or he was involved with Ronnie.
Right now it didn’t matter. He was going to have to take a calculated risk before it was too late.