Reckless Whisper KO PL B

by Barbara Freethy

  That connection had been broken when she'd gone into foster care and had had to live farther away. Three years had passed before she made it into the same high school as Nathan and by then everything had changed.

  Well, it didn't matter now. She was happy he'd gotten his life together, that he was building houses and that his sister had a family who loved her.

  She was also glad she'd come back a better person. At least, Nathan could see that she'd changed, improved, and turned her life around. His help had not been for nothing. She wished that she'd told him that the day before.

  She also kind of wished that she'd have a chance to see him again, but that was probably unwise. He'd told her he didn't want to get dragged back into the mud with her, and while she had no intention of getting caught in the mud, maybe it was best if they just let things stand where they were.

  Tapping her fingers restlessly on her keyboard, she shut down her computer. She needed to get out of the office and at least get some air. But what could she do that would be helpful?

  The one place she hadn't been yet was Hayley's school and perhaps seeing the actual site of the abduction would help her figure something out. According to the investigators who had gone over the stage area with a fine-tooth comb, there was nothing to find, but they hadn't seen the school sites where the three other children had been abducted. Maybe she would view the scene differently.

  Gathering her things together, she headed downstairs. She unsuccessfully tried to flag down a taxi, then checked her app for any available rideshare cars nearby, but prices were surging, and cars were scarce. It was one o'clock—lunchtime—and everyone seemed to be on the move.

  The rumbling of the train a few blocks away told her she did have another option. She just really hated riding the L, which was short for Chicago's elevated train system. It was always crowded, usually hot, often dirty and smelly, and the rickety, rocking curves often made her feel sick.

  In the past, the body-to-body cramming on the train had also brought forth some unwelcome touching, and she still shivered when she thought about those moments.

  But she did need to get across town…

  She'd give it another five minutes.

  While she was waiting for the next light to change and hopefully send a taxi in her direction, her phone rang. The unidentified number sent a jolt through her system, and she mentally prepared herself to hear the creepy altered voice once more. But this time she was ready. She used a new app the tech had recently put on her phone to record and trace the call.

  "Agent Adams," she said crisply, confidently.

  "I missed seeing you at the news conference," he said.

  "I was busy. Are you ready to tell me what you want?"

  "That wouldn't be much fun, although at the moment, I feel quite bored. You seem to have no idea who I am, where I might be. How can I run if you don't get closer?"

  "Why don't you give me a clue?"

  "There's not much challenge in that," he said, the noise from a loudspeaker cutting off his last word.

  Her brain sharpened. It sounded like he was at a train station.

  Another rumble echoed through the phone. She strained to hear what the voice on the speaker was saying. It sounded like Park Station. She knew where Park Station was. It was, in fact, quite close to her old neighborhood. That couldn't be a coincidence.

  "She's waiting for you," the voice said, sending a shiver down her spine.

  It was the first time he'd mentioned Hayley.

  "Don't hurt her."

  "That's entirely up to you."

  The phone clicked off. She drew in a deep breath as blood rocketed through her veins. She glanced back at the building behind her. She could go back inside and turn over the recording…but then what? Someone else would eventually get to checking out the train station? She could easily do that herself. She was going to take the train after all.

  Turning, she walked down the block to the nearest station. She was probably playing into the kidnapper's game. He'd no doubt made the call knowing she would hear the speaker behind him.

  But it was a crowded, public place. She wasn't worried he was going to go after her. She just needed to figure out if there was some area around that station where he might be keeping Hayley.

  On the way to the train, she called Tracy. Thankfully, she did not pick up. She wanted to be up front with the Chicago team, but she also didn't want to get stopped in her tracks.

  Leaving a voicemail, she said, "I heard from the kidnapper again. I'm going to check out a hunch. Call me when you get this, and I'll fill you in. The good news is that I think Hayley is still alive." She called the tech who had set up her phone next. When the woman answered, she said, "Eva," she said. "I got another call. I'll send you the recording." She punched a button to do that, and then slipped her phone into her bag. She bought a ticket from the machine and hopped onto the next train.

  As she'd expected, despite the brisk weather outside, the train was hot and steamy, with tons of people on board. She grabbed a nearby rail as the train lurched down the track. Within minutes, she was regretting her decision.

  Knots formed in her throat, and she felt a wave of motion sickness as the train screeched around a corner. She could have just waited for a taxi and taken a cab to Park Station. But that could have taken too long.

  Maybe coming back to Chicago was a good thing. Perhaps facing her past and fears like these were just what she needed to really break free of who she'd once been. She wasn't Bree Larson anymore. She was Bree Adams. She'd turned herself into her own person.

  Mental pep talk over, she managed to stay on the train as the doors opened at the next stop. One more stop, and she'd be at Park Station. She could make another minute or two.

  The train swayed again as it started to move. Thirty seconds later, she felt someone's hand on her back.

  Turning her head, she looked down and saw a young girl tugging on the hem of her coat. The girl appeared to be about ten or eleven with straight, brown hair, a pale, dirty face and big, wide, green eyes.

  "Mommy?" the little girl said.

  "What?" she gasped, sure she hadn't heard her correctly. "What did you say?"

  "How come you never came back and got me?"

  Shocked at the question, she could barely draw a breath. "I—What?"

  "I was waiting," the little girl said. "For a long time."

  "I'm not—I'm not your mother," she finally bit out.

  The train came to a halt, and the little girl slipped away from her as the doors opened, and a mass of people exited.

  She hesitated one second, then got off the train, and ran after the girl, wondering who she was, why she'd said what she'd said. There were so many people, she quickly lost sight of the child, and when she went down the stairs to the sidewalk, the girl had vanished.

  The train rumbled overhead as it continued on its way. She looked back up, seeing a sign on the stairs—Park Station.

  She'd gotten to where she needed to go, and it had been a trap.

  She'd just never expected the trap to include a young girl—a girl who wasn't Hayley.

  Who was she? How had she known to get on the train? Why had she said what she'd said? And where the hell was she now?

  She looked up and down the street, feeling unseen eyes upon her.

  He was close by. She could feel it.

  He'd lured her to this spot, and the stakes had just been raised in a manner she never could have anticipated.

  Her phone buzzed, and she reached for it. Was he calling her again?

  No. It was Tracy returning her call. She sent the call to voicemail. She couldn't talk to Tracy right now, not while she was feeling so raw and so very confused.

  The kidnapper had done his research on her. He obviously knew more about her than just about everyone else in the world—except one.

  She'd had a feeling her good-bye to Nathan was not going to stick.

  * * *

  Nathan stood on the third floor of t
he duplex he was building in Lakeview. As a general contractor, he ran a crew of two and subbed out the rest of the work. One of his employees was on vacation, and his foreman, Joe Kelly, was about to run out and pick up some supplies, leaving him with not much to do until Joe got back.

  With the framing done, and no drywall up yet, he had a good view of the surrounding neighborhood. Being up high and outside reminded him of the times he and Bree had sat on roofs overlooking the city, dreaming about a different life.

  As he heard Joe speaking to someone, he walked closer to the edge and peered down at the street. It was Bree. She was back. Just like that, every resolution he'd made about not seeing her again, not letting her get into his head, not allowing himself to be dragged into the past, went out the window.

  She was dressed in black slacks and a white shirt and a black blazer. Her hair was down today, falling in pretty waves around her shoulders.

  His chest tightened, along with just about every other part of his body.

  Why did Bree have to be so damned beautiful? Hell, she even looked sexy in her serious federal agent clothes—clothes he wouldn't mind stripping right off her body to find the curves he'd dreamed about as a teenager.

  What the hell was wrong with him?

  He needed to get a grip. If Bree was here, it was because something bad had happened. He needed to remember that. She certainly hadn't come here just to see him. She'd made it clear the day before she wanted to put the past behind her as much as he did.

  He saw Bree show Joe her badge. Then his foreman gave him a quick glance.

  He nodded, and Joe handed Bree a hard hat, and sent her up the stairs. He walked over to meet her.

  "Hi," she said tentatively as she reached the top step. "All right to come in?"

  "Looks like you're already in. What are you doing here, Bree? When you said good-bye to me yesterday, it didn't sound like you were planning on saying hello again any time soon."

  "Things changed."

  "What things?"

  "I need to talk to you."

  "About Kyle?"

  "No. Something else."

  "Hayley?"

  "Not exactly." She cleared her throat, looking away from his questioning gaze. "This is a big house."

  "It's a duplex, so it's two homes."

  "And you're building the whole thing?"

  "It's my job, but others work on it."

  She turned her gaze to the view. "Is this the master bedroom?"

  "It is."

  "I wouldn't mind waking up to a view like this."

  "Even if the view is in Chicago?" he said dryly.

  "Good point. I would prefer it be somewhere else."

  "Like maybe a beach in Southern California with colorful sailboats catching the wind and the waves," he murmured, the words coming from a lifetime ago.

  Her gaze shot back to his, and he thought he saw pain in her eyes.

  "I can't believe you remember that," she said.

  "Really? You cut out magazine pictures of beaches in California and put them up all over your walls: Newport, Laguna, Santa Monica, Malibu. Did you ever get out there?"

  "Not yet."

  "I'm surprised. Why not?"

  "I'm not ready for the beach yet. What about you? Have you ever thought about leaving Chicago?"

  "I've thought about it a million times, but Josie got pregnant at nineteen, and even though she had Kyle, I wanted to stay close to make sure she could handle things. Plus, I adore her kid. Grace is a gutsy little firecracker. She's like Josie in some ways, but in other ways, she's completely different. She definitely has more confidence than her mother ever had, but then, thankfully, Grace hasn't had to live through what Josie did."

  "Thankfully," Bree echoed. "How did Josie meet Kyle? It doesn't seem like they would have been running in the same circles. He's a lot older than her, and from what I learned about him, he's well educated and comes from a fairly wealthy family."

  "Josie was working as a hostess at the Waltham Club and Kyle did a lot of networking there. She got pregnant by accident and was shocked when Kyle told her he was going to marry her. She couldn't believe that such a successful and smart man not only fell for her but wanted to take care of her. To be honest, I was surprised that he stepped up. But Kyle said he took one look at Josie and fell hard. He didn't care that she came from nothing or she hadn't been to college."

  "She is a beautiful woman. She always has been."

  "Yes. That beauty got her into a lot of trouble, but in this case, it got her out of it. I have to give Kyle credit for helping Josie stay on a better path. I think he likes having someone who really looks up to him, which Josie does. But I worry that things aren't as good as they once were."

  "Because Kyle works late a lot?"

  "That's part of it." He paused. "Why are you here, Bree?"

  She gave him a pained look. "I probably shouldn't have come. You're just the only one I can talk to."

  "I'm the only one you can talk to?" he asked in surprise. "Isn't there an entire building of FBI agents you can talk to?"

  "Not about this."

  "About what?"

  Before she could answer, Joe came up the stairs. "I'm going to take off, Nathan. You need anything before I go?"

  "No, I'm good." He ignored Joe's very curious look.

  "All right."

  As Joe left, Nathan folded his arms across his chest and gave Bree a thoughtful look. "You're stalling. This must be bad."

  "It is bad," she admitted. "I didn't mention this before, but I've had a couple of calls from a man who I think is the kidnapper. He alters his voice, so it's difficult to decipher any kind of tone or accent."

  Her words shocked him. The kidnapper was talking to her? "What does he say?"

  "Each call has been short and cryptic. He is basically taunting me, making it sound like he's watching me, playing some sort of game with me." She licked her lips. "Anyway, the third call came in about an hour ago. He was chatty this time. He said he was a little bored, that he wondered why I didn't seem to know where he was. He sounded impatient, like I wasn't smart enough to keep up with him."

  "That's crazy," he muttered, not sure what to think about the calls.

  "I wasn't sure it was the kidnapper in the beginning. The first time, the voice just said I'd be sorry. The second call came when I was walking over to Josie's house. He implied that he could see me. He mentioned my hair being up. He said he wanted a worthy competitor. And then he hung up. But he never mentioned Hayley in those two conversations."

  "But he did this third time?"

  "Not by name. But he said she was waiting for me."

  He frowned. "Okay. Then what happened? I assume there's more and it has something to do with why you're here. You don't think it's Kyle, do you?"

  "No, I don't. While I was on the phone, I heard the announcement for a train coming into Park Station. I decided to go down there, to see if I could locate a place where he might have stashed Hayley."

  "It sounds like he wanted you to hear that."

  "I'm sure he did. But I figured I'd be safe enough at a crowded train station in the middle of the day. So, I got on the train."

  "You got on the train?" he echoed. "You hate the train. You always preferred to walk whenever you could avoid taking it."

  "Well, it was the fastest way to get there. Anyway, it was really crowded as always, and I was almost to the stop, when this little girl tugged on my coat and asked me if I…" Indecision flashed through her eyes.

  "Well, don't stop there. What did she ask you?"

  "I can't believe I'm going to say this out loud."

  His pulse started beating faster at the look in her eyes. "Just say it."

  "She called me Mommy, and she asked me why I had taken so long to come back for her."

  Shock waves ran through his body. "What?"

  "You heard me, Nathan," Bree said, panic in her voice. "She thought I was her mother. I told her I wasn't, and she just said she'd been waiting for me fo
r a long time. She had brown hair and green eyes—just like me. And then the train stopped, and she jumped off. I followed her, but she disappeared into the crowd."

  "Are you sure about what she said to you? Sometimes the train is loud."

  "I'm absolutely positive, Nathan. She looked right at me. And she wasn't confused. There was a purpose in her eyes."

  He had no idea what to say. He was completely stunned.

  Bree stared back at him, her heart in her eyes. "The kidnapper set me up. He knew I would go down to the train station. He wanted me to meet her. He wanted me to think—"

  "You can't think that. It's ridiculous."

  "How can I not? She was about the right age. I saw myself in her, Nathan, I swear I did." Her gaze filled with anguish. "What if that girl really was my daughter?"

  Six

  His heart pounded against his chest, and he struggled to take a breath, Bree's words spinning him back into the past.

  Bree had barely been showing when she'd gotten on the bus eleven years ago, despite the fact that she was almost six months pregnant. He'd been worried about her that day. She'd been so scared, so pale, and she could barely keep food down, throwing up twice in the bathroom before getting on the bus. He hadn't wanted her to go, but he knew she had to leave.

  He'd wished he could go with her, at least help her get settled somewhere, but Josie was having a hard time. He couldn't leave his sister for Bree. And it wasn't as if Bree had asked him to go. All she'd wanted from him was a bus ticket, a ride and a promise not to tell anyone.

  "Nathan?" Bree asked, her voice bringing him back to the present.

  He looked into her anguished green eyes and said the first thing that came into his head. "I didn't know you had a girl."

  "Oh." Her mouth trembled, as she fought against what had to be an overwhelming rush of emotion. "I guess you wouldn't have known that."

  "You said you didn't know when you got on the bus."

  "I had an ultrasound a week later."

  It was so strange to think that Bree had had a daughter, that there was a little girl somewhere in the world, with her hair and her eyes. But he didn't think it was the girl on the train. "You said the girl on the train spoke with purpose. Did it sound like she was coached?"