CHAPTERSIXTEEN
Olivia watched the man under attack check to see if the car doors were locked. They were, but that didn’t make any difference to Travis. He pulled the driver’s door open and bent inside, pressing himself against the hapless Pete, turning the tables on him. He’d kidnapped Travis, but he was now the captive.
Olivia watched terror suffuse the man’s face as he struggled to draw in a breath. Raising his hands, he clawed at the air. When that failed to dislodge the invisible body pressing down on him, he squirmed out from under Travis and flung himself out of the car and onto the grass, where he stumbled and went down. But Gabe moved in quickly, caught him under the arms, and pulled him up. As Pete struggled to get away, Gabe dragged him toward Travis’s house.
The three of them disappeared inside, and Olivia ran to the door, slipping in after them and closing it behind her.
Travis checked the captive’s body for weapons.He’s got a shoulder holster and a knife strapped to his ankle,he said. Olivia relayed the information to Gabe, who relieved the thug of the weapons.
He looked toward Olivia. “I didn’t want you to come in here.”
“I wasn’t gonna stay hiding in the bushes.”
“Even though that was the better plan?” Gabe’s hands clenched, but he abruptly changed subjects. “Okay. Make yourself useful. Bring me a kitchen chair.” When she started off, he called out, “Wait,” and gave her a pair of rubber gloves. “You don’t want anyone to figure out you were here.” As he spoke, he was putting on gloves of his own. He also went to the front door and pulled out a rag to wipe the interior and exterior knobs before turning the lock.
Olivia hadn’t even thought of fingerprints. But he was right. It would be a mistake to leave any.
She looked around, located the kitchen, and stepped inside to a fifties breakfast set with aluminum tubing frames and plastic seats and back cushions. Probably they’d belonged to Travis’s father, and the son hadn’t bothered to replace them.
Okay, so I don’t care about style,he acknowledged as she brought a chair back to Gabe.
Gabe pushed Pete into the seat, securing his hands behind his back with handcuffs, and using rope to tie him to the chair and secure his feet to the chair legs.
The man looked on, wide-eyed, his gaze swinging from Gabe to Olivia.
“You can’t do this to me.”
When neither of them answered, he went on in a shaky voice, “What’s this about? How did you pull off that trick at the car?”
“Professional secret,” Gabe shot back.
“Hey, wait a minute,” the dirtbag answered. “I didn’t do nothin’,”
“You were one of the men who abducted Travis Carson from his boat.”
“No.”
“You’re lying.”
“No,” the man said again, his voice weaker.
Gabe beckoned to Olivia and spoke in a whisper. “We’d better have a lookout. Can you tell Travis to go outside and watch for anyone coming here?”
“Why should they?” she asked.
“I’m not taking any chances.”
She looked toward Travis,I guess you’d better do it.
She could see he didn’t want to leave the scene of the interrogation, but he did as asked, stepping through the front wall.
Gabe filled a pitcher of water at the kitchen sink and brought it back, before pulling a thick towel from his bag.
Pete watched wide-eyed.
“You know what I’m going to do, right?” Gabe said.
“Yeah, and it’s illegal.”
