“We saw an opportunity and took it.”
“And damn near got yourselves killed.” Abernathy shot another look around, satisfied he was alone.
“There were no CCTVs and the road was clear. We didn’t see the guy in the truck until we’d already run her off the road. If he hadn’t come along, she’d be with Burn now.”
“But he was there. You’re certain he can’t ID you?”
Abernathy knew he’d have to start over. The men he’d brought up from the valley to kidnap Quintero’s daughter had botched the job enough he couldn’t trust them to try again. He’d pay the men and send them back home.
The police chief wasn’t concerned about them turning against him. What he knew could put both away for years. Over the years, he’d compiled files on at least two dozen men he could use when the need arose. All he had to do was revisit his list and make a couple calls. Within hours, he’d have replacements for the incompetents who’d botched the job that morning.
“What do you want us to do now, boss?”
Abernathy bit back his frustration. “Nothing. The cash will be waiting for you where we agreed. I want you to disappear and not contact me again. If I have use for more of your services, I’ll get in touch with you.” He didn’t wait for a response before ending the call.
At least Burn didn’t know of the bungled attempt to take the youngest Quintero daughter. He couldn’t handle another bout of the man’s temper, which flared more frequently these days. Opening the car door, he reached under the driver’s seat, pulling out a file. Running his gaze down one page, then another, his attention landed on one particular name.
Big, smart, with no moral impediments, he was the perfect person to take over where the others had failed. Plus, the man had brothers. Between them, their criminal records stretched for pages, and Abernathy knew there were crimes not included. Acts he’d been sure no other lawman knew about. Those were documented and filed where no one would ever find the damning evidence.
Lifting his phone, the chief leaned against the car and made the call.
Undercover DEA agent Ernesto Ramirez departed the private jet, a hand shielding his eyes from the early afternoon sun. Armando had summoned him and another of the Quintero bodyguards, Jose Santos, the day before. The request surprised and pleased Ernesto.
The Quinteros had decided the trip to visit Julia and Tori would be quick, with no need for additional protection. It made no sense to Ramirez. Armando, Diego, and Antonio always took their bodyguards on any trip, no matter the length.
Wishing he knew what triggered the call for them to join the Quinteros, he walked through the small terminal, spotting Diego. Santos saw him at the same time. Together, they followed him outside. Stopping at the car, Diego turned to them, his gaze locked on Santos.
“You will drive. Ramirez will be in the passenger seat.”
“Do you have any special orders for us, sir?” Ramirez asked, opening the rear door of the Mercedes for Diego to get in next to Armando.
“Not yet. Father and I will update you once we reach our destination.”
“Very well.”
They drove in silence for several minutes before Diego gave them directions to a house not far from the quaint downtown area. Armando had told Julia and Tori they’d taken rooms at a hotel downtown. A small lie which served their purposes.
The Victorian house three blocks from the main square had two stories, six bedrooms, a large kitchen, formal dining room, living room, and four baths. It had been remodeled in the last year with new wood floors, area rugs, and tile in the kitchen and baths. Much better than hotel rooms. The bonus had been using aliases to book the house for two weeks online.
The harried real estate agent who managed the property hadn’t asked for ID when handing them the keys. He’d barely spared them a glance, apologizing for not having time to show them the house before rushing out the door to meet with a couple waiting in the parking lot. It all worked in their favor.
Navigating the alley, Santos drove into the garage, leaving the garage door up. Getting out, he checked outside before nodding to Ramirez, who closed the garage door. Inside, both men made a sweep of the house before returning downstairs and nodding their approval. A necessary precaution Armando and Diego expected.
The elder Quintero addressed them. “We will be meeting with a business associate in an hour.”
“Here, sir?” Santos asked.
“No.” He handed him a piece of paper with an address.
“I’ll check the best routes, sir.”
“Afterward, we will return here until dinner. Diego and I have reservations at Hawthorn’s.”
“Yes, sir,” Ernesto said. “May I ask how many people you expect at the meeting?”
“Two others.”
“Anything we should know about them?”
Armando sent a meaningful look at his son, deciding how much to tell their bodyguards. “No. You will treat them with respect but as a definite risk to us.”
“Of course.” Ernesto didn’t like it, but he knew it was all they were going to get.
He wanted names, details, anything he could pass along to his DEA superiors. After so long undercover in the Quintero organization, he was ready to move on, get back to his family. A fiancée he almost never saw and parents who worried about him.
“We will leave in forty minutes,” Armando said.
Julia finished with another of her patients, checking the time every few minutes. Tori’s injuries weighed on her, as did a conversation the night before with Nate. Between the two, she didn’t know which bothered her more. Tori would recover. What Wrath and Fuse had done to her and Nate would take longer to get over. At least it would for Julia.
Nate planned to have a discussion with Wrath and Fuse after her father and brother had returned to Monterrey, or the Feds had the proof they needed to arrest them. There was nothing they could do about the missing years, but both needed to understand why Wrath had made the decision not to pass along Julia’s information to Nate. She didn’t believe a good reason existed.
Walking the child and his mother to the billing counter, she confirmed they would return in a week for a follow-up. Noting she had no other patients, Julia returned to her office, recording her notes. Nate would be waiting outside to follow her home. The thought made her smile.
Shutting down her laptop, she slid it into the case and grabbed her purse. Opening the back door, she looked around, expecting to see his truck or motorcycle. They’d agreed she wouldn’t walk to her car until he arrived.
It was a clear evening, calm with a warm breeze. With Tori at home, Dylan watching out for her, Julia didn’t want to stop at the store as originally planned. They’d order out, probably for four, unless Tori decided to send Dylan home. Julia hoped that didn’t happen.
Waiting in the doorway, she leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. It had been a difficult few weeks. The stress of dealing with her family’s probable connection to illegal drug deals hung heavy on her conscience.
Nate and Dylan had flatly refused their help clearing the Quintero name or gathering evidence of their guilt. They didn’t want to give Armando any reason to go after his own adopted daughters. Julia and Tori refused to believe their family would turn on them. No one was willing to test it.
The sound of an approaching motorcycle had her closing the door behind her. Moving toward her car, she spotted the black bike turn into the parking lot. Giving it a cursory glance, she pressed the key fob before stopping in her tracks.
Turning slowly, she stared at the bike and its rider, a wave of panic pressing in on her. It wasn’t Nate, and the van following right behind it belonged to no one she knew.
Whipping around, she dropped her computer and grabbed the handle of her door, pulling it open. Twisting to toss in her purse, she only made it partway before strong arms wrapped around her waist, a hand covering her nose. The unmistakable, pungent smell of chloroform assaulted her senses.
Kicking, trying
to lash out, she felt her strength begin to fail, her mind closing down. Her last coherent thought was of Nate.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tracker cursed as he waited for the police to clear the road of a two car accident. If he’d been riding his bike, he’d have already made a U-turn, taking another route to the clinic. Instead, he was stuck in a stagnate line of late afternoon traffic.
A call to Julia had gone to voicemail. Punching Moses’s number, he got no answer. The same with Tori’s number
“Sonofabitch,” he bit out.
Trying Julia again, getting her voicemail a second time, he left a brief message and called Wrath.
“Talk to me.”
“Something’s not right. I’m stuck in traffic on my way to the clinic and can’t reach Julia, Moses, or Tori.”
“We’re on it.” Wrath ended the call.
Slamming his hands on the steering wheel, he wanted to pull the truck to the side and run to the clinic. Instead, he called the main number.
“Doctor Stanifer, please.”
A pleasant female voice responded. “I believe she’s already left for the day.”
“Can you make certain for me? I’ve been trying to call her cell and get voicemail.”
“Is this Mr. Kincaid?”
“Yes.”
“Give me a minute.”
Time ticked by, his alarm rising with each passing minute.
“She isn’t anywhere inside or outside, and her car is still in the lot.” Concern etched the woman’s voice. “Her computer case is on the ground.”
He hung up without responding, calling Wrath a second time. “Julia’s gone, but her car is still in the clinic lot and her computer is on the ground.”
“Gunner is on his way there. I’ll have him join Rock, Ghost, and Fargo, who are heading to Julia’s and Tori’s places. How soon until they clear the accident?”
“No fucking idea.”
“Sit tight. I’ll be back in touch.”
Tracker fought the alarm threading through him. He hadn’t felt this helpless in a long time. Unable to contain himself any longer, he made a sharp right onto the shoulder. Engaging the four-wheel drive, he gunned the truck up a series of low hills, hearing both cheers and jeers from those sitting in line. He ignored them, including the shrill of police whistles and blasts of electronic air horns.
There might be hell to pay later, but right now, he didn’t care. All he could think about was Julia and who had taken her. Damning himself for not sticking closer, he navigated narrow trails, tearing through a six-foot-wide length of wire fencing to drop back down to the two-lane road.
Working the gears, he moved through traffic at a frantic pace. Skidding, he turned onto Tori’s street, slamming on the brakes in front of her house. Jumping out, he ran to the front door, stopping when Wrath intercepted him.
“They got to Moses.” When Tracker tried to move past, Wrath grasped his arm. “He’s alive, but they beat him up pretty good. We’ve already called 911 and I’ve notified Grayson.”
“Julia and Tori?”
“No sign of either. I’m certain Julia never got here.”
Tracker already knew that, but hearing it confirmed shook him. “Who?”
“We don’t know. I’ve got both Raider and Petty Officer Lane monitoring.”
At the sound of sirens, they walked to the street, waving at the approaching ambulance. Right behind was Ethan in his SUV, a deputy’s SUV following.
“Black Stone Estates is in the county,” Wrath said. “No Abernathy.” The words had just left his lips when the police chief’s cruiser turned onto the street.
“Sonofabitch. That guy just can’t stay out of our way.” Tracker took a step toward the cruiser when Wrath moved in front of him.
“Let Ethan handle it.”
“Fine. I’m going to check on Moses.” Tracker jogged back to the front door, stepping inside as the EMTs worked to stabilize Moses’s injuries. The sight startled him.
Both of his friend’s eyes were swollen shut, bandages wrapped around his head to secure his jaw, indicating it might be broken. One EMT secured what appeared to be a broken leg, another stabilizing one of his arms. Attention riveted on his teammate, he didn’t notice Rock come up next to him.
“We’re going to find the fuckers who took the women and beat up Moses. They’re going to be sorry they ever messed with what’s ours.”
Jaw clenched, his chest squeezed in barely controlled anger when they loaded Moses onto the gurney. When they moved past, Tracker placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning down.
“We’re going to get the people responsible, man.”
A slight twitch of Moses’s left eye was the only response. Waiting until they were out the door, he turned to Rock.
“What have you found?”
“Not a damn thing. They broke a few items, tore apart the bedroom, beat up Moses, and took Tori. In and out. The others are asking the neighbors if they saw anything.”
“Professionals?” Tracker asked.
“My guess is no. But they knew enough to not draw attention. Maybe they left some prints, but it’s doubtful.”
“Rock, Tracker, get out here.”
Wrath’s shout had them hurrying to join him and Ethan in front of the garage. Tracker noticed Abernathy’s cruiser wasn’t anywhere in sight.
“I may know who’s behind this,” Ethan said. “Right before I left the office, Deputy Vela Bettencourt came to me with confidential information she got from her husband.”
“Officer Geoff Bettencourt,” Wrath added.
Ethan motioned for them to move farther away from the neighbors who congregated on the sidewalk. “He’s been suspicious of his boss for a long time.”
“We’re all suspicious of Abernathy,” Rock said. He’d witnessed the police chief meeting Burn at his home during the time Tessa had been in danger.
“This time, we may have something solid on him. Geoff was sitting in his car late one night when Abernathy left the station. The chief didn’t notice him before he placed a call to Burn.”
“He’s certain it was Burn?” Tracker asked.
“Affirmative. He also mentioned Quintero’s two adopted daughters. The Eternal Brethren were also discussed. Near the end, he said something about not being a kidnapper.”
“That asshole,” Rock muttered.
“Geoff only heard one side of the conversation. He couldn’t come to me directly, so decided to give the information to Vela. I was at a conference in the valley, so she wasn’t able to get to me until just before I got Wrath’s call about Julia being taken.”
“What are your thoughts, Ethan?” Wrath asked.
“My gut tells me Abernathy is working with his own brand of special informants. If that’s true, he’ll know where they took the women.”
“We can’t wait any longer to find them,” Tracker said, his body vibrating with the need to find Julia and Tori.
Wrath placed fisted hands on his hips and looked at his brother. “You don’t need to hear what I’m going to say, Ethan. It would be best if you took off and let us devise a plan.”
“I don’t give a shit about what would be best. Abernathy has crossed a line here, the same as he’s done in the past. This time, we have a chance to find the women and take him down at the same time. I won’t be left out.”
“You may not like our methods.”
Ethan looked at Wrath, his mouth twisting into a knowing grin. “All the more reason for me to be with you.”
Julia and Tori sat on a threadbare sofa in what they believed to be a small house not far from town. Their abductors hadn’t restrained them with ropes or zip ties, or used gags. Instead, they’d been told if they tried to escape, the men would go after those they loved. A simple approach to keeping hostages under their control.
Julia had arrived at the house first. Tori not long afterward. She’d been sobbing, falling into her sister’s arms. Once calm, she’d described what the men had done to Dylan, and her fe
ar they’d killed him.
Conversely, the men hadn’t harmed them. Unlike Dylan, they’d been treated with care.
Two of the four men sat in overstuffed chairs on either side of the sofa. They drank beer while watching a sports channel, talking and joking as if they hadn’t kidnapped two women and possibly killed someone. Both had bruising on their chins and lacerations to their faces. She hoped Dylan had done the same, or worse, to the other two.
Julia moved to the edge of the sofa, lifting her chin in defiance. “What do you plan to do with us?”
The question had the two gaping at each other. Ignoring her, they returned their attention to the TV.
“Excuse me. I want to know why you took us.”
The bigger of the two stood. “Our job was to snatch you and keep you here. We don’t know or care why.”
“As long as you get your money,” Julia said.
“That’s true. You girls want something to eat? We’ve got bread and meat in the kitchen.”
Jaw going slack, she stared between the two. “You don’t know who ordered us kidnapped?”
“Our oldest brother, Able, takes care of the details. We just do as he orders. Now, do you want something to eat or not?”
She glanced at Tori, then back at him. “You know our names, but I’m afraid we don’t know yours.”
“I’m Bert.” He pointed to his brother. “That’s Carl. Duncan’s the youngest. He’s outside with Able.”
Julia’s brows drew together, memorizing the names. “Able, Bert, Carl, and Duncan.”
“Our mom had a thing about starting at the first letter of the alphabet and going from there. So, do you want that food or not?”
“Uh, no,” Julia said as Tori shook her head, then winced at the pain. “Do you have anything for pain? My sister was in an accident this morning.”
Devoted Page 17
