Page 73 of Heather's Truth
He lunged for Dale’s gut and Dale spun away unscathed. If there had been any doubt in Dale’s mind over Bingham’s innocence, the attack erased it.
His hands open like blades, Dale used the close quarters and the cart to his advantage, driving Bingham into the corner of the alcove of the hotel room door and disarming him once more.
“Enough,” Dale said, his forearm a hard bar against Bingham’s throat. “Surrender. Show some self-respect and deal with this rationally.”
“It’s too late for me,” Bingham said, utterly defeated. Tears glistened in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
Dale heard the crunch of a boot on broken pottery and the quick pop-pop of a silenced pistol being fired twice. Two small holes appeared in Bingham’s forehead and his eyes went blank.
“Ah, the added benefits of the off season at the beach.”
The cultured voice of Anthony Lester scraped at Dale’s nerves. He eased Bingham’s body to the floor and then turned. Lester picked his way carefully through the mess, flanked by two of his personal guards.
“Special Agent Dale Nichols?”
As if his identity needed any confirmation. Lester and Dale had met on more than one occasion, usually with Bingham taking the lead.
“Yes.” Dale stood up and rolled his shoulders back.
Lester’s gaze took in Bingham’s body. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“You’re on quite a spree this weekend.”
“Let’s take this inside, shall we?”
“No.” Dale couldn’t take on all three of them, but that didn’t mean he had to cooperate in his demise. He was only delaying the inevitable. There was no way for Heather to escape. Other than over the balcony. His stomach clutched at the image.
With a put-upon sigh, Lester nodded to the man on his left who then stepped up to Dale, gun in hand. “Give him the key,” Lester ordered.
“It’s inside,” Dale replied with a shrug. “Whoops.”
“Tell her to open the door.”
Dale looked around. “She’s not here.”
Lester glared at him. “I came here to clean up a mess your boss made. You can be part of the solution or…” He left the sentence hanging, but his gaze landed on Bingham.
“Whatever you used to turn him won’t work on me.”
“That is a shame. I rather liked your work ethic. And your woman is delightful.” He gestured to the door and the second of his thugs stepped up and swiped a master key. Lester chuckled as he led the procession into the suite. “You underestimate my charm, Nichols.”
“I doubt that.”
“We’ll see. I can be quite, ah, motivating when I choose.” When they were all inside, they dropped Bingham’s body in front of the door. Lester ordered Dale cuffed to the chair, then he started to look around for Heather.
Dale struggled against his restraints. His gun sat useless in his duffel across the room. Any possible weapons were well out of reach. Neither of Lester’s henchmen would be overcome as easily as Bingham. Where his boss had gone soft, life had continued to hone Lester and those he employed.
“Oh, Miss Morris?” Lester called. “Do join us.”
No answer.
Lester looked at Dale. “It seems you’re well-matched when it comes to being stubborn. That can be so problematic in a relationship. I like my women more biddable.”
Dale didn’t bother to reply. The man was having enough fun without his help and there were far more important things on Dale’s mind. Like where Heather and all of the electronics that had been on the table had gone.
He kept his gaze on Lester, trying to stay amused by his arrogant posturing. Dale refused to glance around and give these bastards any assistance in their search.
But they had it down without any help from him. They systematically cleared the closet. They looked under the bed and tore down the curtains.