Page 28 of Devil's Retribution
By the time we got to the towering hotel that had been my home until my twenties, I was starting to feel my exhaustion and hunger. Broken sleep for two days, an emotional roller-coaster, and waking up well before dawn were all taking their toll. But I knew I had to keep alert. I had no idea what we would find once we got up to the penthouse.
The doorman smiled as he recognized me and Nick, and held the door for us, sparing only a brief curious glance at Viktor. I did my best to act natural. I didn’t know what the cost would be for alerting others to Nick and I being captives, but I didn’t want to find out.
“Hi, Joe, have you seen my uncle the last day or two?” I asked conversationally as he let us in.
“Nope, he’s been using the helipad for everything. Hasn’t even ordered up groceries in a few days.”
I could feel Viktor watching me. “Okay. I was hoping I’d catch him, but he may have already left on his trip. Guess I’ll see. By the way, this is my friend, and he’ll be staying with us for a few days, just in case you see him around.”
Joe smiled brightly, and Viktor nodded.
He let us into the private penthouse elevator and we rode up, my stomach jumping around the closer we got to the top. What if Uncle Charles had changed the code on his way out, to keep me out?
The tiny box of a lobby outside the penthouse door was just as I remembered it, with the exception of a few packages and newspapers piled up at the door. I scooped them up unconsciously to bring them in before stepping up to the scanner and swiping my card. At the click of the locks opening, I breathed out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
I walked into the stillness beyond, every light was off, the air conditioner was also off, leaving the atmosphere stuffy and laden with a faint smell of spilled alcohol. Frowning, I set the packages aside on the mail table and started turning on some lights.
The place was a disaster, at least by my uncle’s standards. Papers strewn across the living room coffee table, an entire bottle of forty-year-old scotch left shattered on the kitchen floor. Nobody had been in to clean up in his absence. I didn’t even know when the housekeeper was due in next.
My head throbbed as I cleaned up the broken glass. The empty penthouse, so hastily abandoned, drove it all home. Uncle Charles had run for it. He had left us to rot and he had bolted to save himself from paying a damn ransom.
Nick, oblivious to the real nature of our captor, was now roping him into hooking up the game console that my uncle still kept tucked in a drawer beside the entertainment center. Viktor was taking it in his stride. Nick was already acting more like himself. But me?
I started shaking as I gingerly transferred the swept-up glass to the trash can. Mopping up the rest of the spilled Scotch, I felt my eyes water and sting, and my lips tremble. I gave myself a stern talking to. We’d made it this far. Viktor had kept his word so far, and with Uncle Charles bailing on us, Viktor’s story was starting to look a lot more credible than I was comfortable with.
This was no time for guilt or grief. My uncle’s betrayal would have to be dealt with later, when I didn’t have to worry about crying in front of the man keeping me captive.
Viktor walked in finally, seeing me cleaning up the mess, and frowned. “What happened?”
“He was drinking, and in a hurry from what I can tell. Dropped a mostly full bottle and just left it.” I heard the theme music to one of Nick’s games starting up in the other room. “I don’t get why he’d freak out like that, over having to pay a ransom.” I paused, realizing I hadn’t asked how much Nick, and I were worth. “How much did you ask for?”
“Five million,” Viktor answered.
I gasped but pulled myself together. “For my uncle that would have been easy enough to get... Why wouldn’t he pay?”
He glanced away from me, his intense gaze becoming avoidant suddenly. “A guilty conscience makes a man irrationally afraid at times.”
“He must have thought you meant him a lot more harm than just taking his money.” A realization hit as I looked up at him. “Did he have reasons to fear that?”
He stopped dead, staying silent for just a few moments too long.
I closed my eyes, trying to process this. “I should have guessed,” I said finally. “The ransom was just to draw him out, wasn’t it?”
He didn’t confirm or deny that, just said in a low voice, “My younger brother died in my arms because of him. And I doubt you and the boy are the first people he’s abandoned and betrayed. In fact, I suspect I’ll be able to prove that before all this is over.”
I hugged myself, trying to still my shivering. “He was running for his life.”
“And he was willing to sacrifice you and the boy to ensure his escape,” he reminded me in an almost apologetic voice.
“Jekyll and Hyde,” I mumbled, trying to make sense of it.
He tilted his head slightly. “I’m sorry?”
“I looked up to Uncle Charles my whole life,” I said quietly. “He was the one who took us in when my parents died. Who put me through med school. The man had me watched. He did everything he could think of to keep me safe. And now this. It’s like he turned into a different person.”
“Wicked men often lead double lives,” he said quietly. “There are even serial killers who were family men, whose wives and children never knew what they were, until after they were caught. You are not the first to experience such a thing.”
“He and Nick are the only family I have left,” I said breathlessly. How was I ever going to break it to Nick that I was helping our kidnappers find Uncle Charles so they could kill him?