Rich (Benson Security #5) - Janet Elizabeth Henderson Page 0,116

and dining area, keeping their weapons up in front of them, missing nothing.

There was no sign that Rachel had even been there. Only the fact the concierge had seen her arrive with her cousin and hadn’t seen them leave made Harvard believe they were still inside.

“Garage is clear,” Ryan said through his earpiece. “Joe’s stationed at the front door. So far, no sign of Rachel or her cousin.”

“Stay in position,” Harvard whispered.

Lake cleared the room, and the men moved down the hall, checking off each room as they went. Soon, the only area left was the pool. As they flattened themselves against the walls on either side of the door, Harvard lifted his fingers and counted them down. On three, they moved.

They were through the door in seconds. Spreading out in standard formation, the men covered all angles and each other’s backs. There was no one in the room, but the tiles around the pool were soaked with water.

Lake made a low clicking sound and motioned at something lying on the floor. Cautiously, they crept forward to get a better look. Harvard’s heart slammed in his chest—it was Rachel’s handbag, its contents scattered over the tiles.

They spread out around the room, checking each area.

“Clear,” Callum whispered through their comm as he pointed to the changing room.

“Clear,” Lake murmured, indicating the bathroom.

Harvard moved silently, keeping his gun up as he checked behind the bar. Nothing. “Clear,” he reported. They had to be downstairs.

He turned toward the other men and started to signal for them to head out and downstairs when he caught sight of something in the pool.

No. Not something.

Someone.

With a roar, he lunged for the water. Only to be held back by Lake.

“It isn’t her.”

Harvard tried to shove him aside, but Callum appeared beside his partner, and both of them barred his way.

“It isn’t her,” Callum snapped. “It’s Samantha.”

Harvard took a deep breath as their words registered. “I’m okay,” he gritted out.

After taking a moment to make sure, they stepped aside. Harvard gazed over the edge of the pool, staying calm, as he was trained to do. Her blonde hair drifting around her, a woman lay face down, pinned to the glass bottom. They couldn’t make out what kept her from floating, but it was clear she was alone in the pool.

Blonde hair.

Yellow dress.

Samantha.

“Gun,” Callum barked from beside one of the loungers, pulling Harvard’s attention from the body. “It’s the one I gave Rachel.” Using the edge of his shirt, he picked it up and sniffed. “It’s just been fired.”

“Several times.” Lake pointed to the holes in the wall and ceiling.

“I told her to practice,” Callum said as he put the gun back where he’d found it. “But she never bloody listens.”

Harvard turned from the pool. “Downstairs,” he ordered, but the men were already moving.

“Stairs are wet,” Harvard said as he led them down to the lower floor. “She came this way.”

They moved steadily, sweeping the area with their weapons, barely making a sound. He signaled toward the master bedroom. With Lake and Callum at his back, he assumed breach position and entered the room. They came in behind him seamlessly, spreading out to cover the space and each other. Every room had to be cleared. They didn’t know if Samantha had acted alone.

Only once they were sure the room and master bath were clear, did Harvard look up at the pool. Samantha floated above them, her eyes wide and unseeing, her hair spread out around her. She had a gash on her head and a bruise on her cheek. So beautiful, yet so incredibly evil.

Lake grunted and pointed at Samantha’s dress. Tangled in the folds of her skirt was the ugly concrete gnome that usually sat beside the pool. It acted as an anchor, keeping her pinned to the bottom.

For a second, they just stared at the gnome and the woman who looked more like an ethereal mermaid than a rapist and would-be killer.

What a waste.

With a shake of his head, Harvard turned to his team. “Move out,” he ordered, and they moved, quickly clearing both guest rooms.

There was no sign of Rachel.

“Is there a panic room in this apartment?” Harvard asked Callum.

It was Lake who answered. “No.”

There damn well would be one in the house he’d share with Rachel, that was for sure.

Lake crouched and pressed his hand to the hall carpet. “Wet,” he said. “What’s behind that door?”

“An emergency exit, but I don’t have the code to access it.”

“Fortunately, we run the security in this building.” Lake