by Rebecca York
Jenny stared at him in concern. “Maybe you should go up and lie down,” she said. Now that her plan was working, she wondered if sending him upstairs was really a good idea. What if he tripped on the stairs and fell?
Guilt grabbed her by the throat when he pressed the heel of his hand against one eye.
Pushing himself back from the table, he stood on shaky legs and tottered to the couch where he sat down heavily, then kicked off his shoes and swung his legs onto the cushions. “Need to take a little nap,” he said in a barely audible voice as he pulled one of the side pillows under his head.
“Yes.” Watching what she’d done to him made her physically ill, and she was glad she hadn’t eaten much of the food. She’d crushed up two sleeping pills. Had she given him too much?
She crossed the room and knelt on the floor beside him. “Grant?”
He didn’t answer, and she pressed her hand against his chest to make sure his heart was beating. To her relief, it felt strong and regular. Her hand moved to his pocket. Reaching inside, she found his keys and his wallet.
“Sorry,” she whispered as she riffled through the wallet and took out about two hundred dollars before standing and backing away.
“I’m so sorry,” she said again, staring at Grant’s slack face. “Here I am stealing more money.” She gulped. “But that’s not the worst part. Grant, I love you. That’s why I have to leave. If you knew who I really was, you’d hate me.” She dragged in a breath and let it out. “I don’t hold it against you, but I know you lied to me. I’m almost certain Carlos Mardano got away. He’s a dangerous man, more dangerous than you can imagine. And he works for someone even more despicable. I’ve been running from that man, but now I know I have to do something about him—or die trying,” she added in a whisper.
He didn’t respond, and she crossed to him again. Kneeling down, she pressed her lips softly to his cheek. “Don’t hate me.”
While she could still make herself do it, she turned and ran toward the front door. Stopping at the nearby cabinet, she opened drawers and found the weapons he’d told her about. She took a Glock, checked the action, then loaded a magazine and shoved it into place. After taking an extra box of ammunition, she stepped out the door and closed it quietly behind her.
Outside, she headed for the car, climbed in and started the engine. With a feeling of unreality, she pointed the vehicle toward the gate where they’d entered.
Grant lay slack on the couch, like the victim of a drug overdose who would never wake again. But his muscles tensed, and as soon as he heard the car start outside, his eyes blinked open.
It had taken every ounce of control he possessed not to react to the things she was telling him. Now he was free to act.
He wanted to scream in frustration. Instead he pushed himself up and took a deep breath. He’d been pretty sure that Jenny was going to pull something. He stopped himself from using the word “stupid” and substituted “desperate.”
Before they’d come here, the staff had brainstormed various possibilities, and Grant had been the one to suggest putting a bottle of fake sleeping pills in her medicine cabinet. Sugar pills actually, so he would be able to detect them. He’d hoped she wasn’t going to use them. But as soon as she’d started asking for wine with lunch, he’d been suspicious. And the oversweet taste of what was in his glass clued him to what she had planned.
To keep her from figuring out that he was on to her, he’d gotten into a big tutorial about how to make mac and cheese. It had worked, even as he’d felt like he was having a conversation in a madhouse.
That had been weird enough. Then he’d watched her watching him as he went into his drugged wine act. After that, she’d done what he expected—with one big exception.
She hadn’t thought he could even hear her, but she’d said she loved him.
His heart squeezed. “Damn you, Jenny,” he growled. “You picked a hell of a time to tell me that. And a hell of a time to run out on me. I can’t help you unless you let me.”
The next part was worse. Through slitted eyes, he’d watched her take a gun and ammo from the cabinet near the door. And from what she’d said, he was pretty sure her plan was to eliminate the threat to Decorah Security from Carlos and his boss, probably the guy named Rambo.
This time she wasn’t simply running away. Terror leaped inside his chest. She was going to put herself in danger—even if it meant she wasn’t going to survive.
While all that was running through his mind, he was heading for the back of the house, to the garage where another car was parked. Climbing in, he activated the surveillance system that would focus on the car Jenny had taken. It was a camera mounted on the front of the vehicle that showed where she was going. He had another weapon at his disposal. In addition to the camera, there was a GPS tracker on the car so that he would know her exact location.
But he was going to have to give her a head start so that she wouldn’t know he was on her trail.
He could have counted to three hundred in his mind while he gave Jenny some breathing room. Instead he reached out to his brother.
Mack, are you there, Mack.
His heart pounded while he waited for his brother to respond. Finally he heard the familiar voice in his head. What do you need, Grant?
Jenny’s skipped out of the safe house like we thought she would, and she’s on her way to the gate. This time I think she’s not just running away. I think she’s going to kill the guy who kidnapped her.
Jesus!
Yeah. But this is our chance to find out where she came from. I’m going to follow her. And I have some information. The thug who got away is Carlos Mardano. Get Teddy to look him up.
Okay. But, uh, you’re not stupid enough to try and handle this by yourself.
Grant answered with a grim laugh. No. There’s a GPS tracker in the extra car, too. Get a team together and follow me.
Will do.
Gotta go. I’ll talk to you when I know something,
The driveway was long, but he’d been watching Jenny as she headed for what she thought was freedom. She had pulled up at the gate.
Using the remote camera, he watched her press the button that would open the barrier from the inside. Then she was off the safe house property and heading for the two-lane road that led to the property.
He had to let her reach it before he gave chase. If she knew he was coming after her, that would screw up his plan.
Before she got more than a fifty yards down the driveway, a car shot out of the woods, blocking her path, and she slammed to a stop to avoid crashing into it.
Chapter Twenty
“Jesus.”
Mack must have still been lurking around because he heard the exclamation.
What?
A car pulled out in front of her. Gotta go.
With the camera in Jenny’s car, he could see men closing in on either side of her vehicle. She looked momentarily dazed, then pulled out the weapon she’d taken from the safe house.
But both doors of the vehicle were yanked open simultaneously. And the man she had called Carlos Mardano grabbed her and slapped something over her face.
Grant gripped the weapon he’d brought with him, but he couldn’t rush in and shoot, not when Jenny was in his line of fire.
Cursing, he could only watch the drama unfold. When she had gone slack, the two men conferred. A minute later, the man Grant didn’t recognize climbed back into the car that had blocked her path. Carlos still held Jenny. He folded her into the car she’d been driving, and both vehicles roared away.
“Christ.”
His brother was still there. What happened?
The one named Carlos took her away in the car she stole. The other guy is in the second vehicle. But it means we can track her.
Right.
Grant swallowed hard. I have to give them a head start. Then I can follow.
And we’ll be right after you.
Unable to keep talking with anyone, even his twin, Grant sign
ed off and pounded on the steering wheel. Everything had happened so fast that he’d barely had time to make decisions.
Now he struggled to fill in the whole picture. Somehow, the Carlos guy hadn’t been fooled by the ambulance ploy. He’d known it wasn’t Jenny being taken away. Or maybe he hadn’t been sure, and he’d sent the other thug to report. Which meant they’d been somewhere lurking near the Decorah offices. But how come Grant hadn’t spotted a tail?
As he went back over the events of the day before, he remembered the traffic tie-up. Son of a bitch. What if the guy had caused the accident, then waited for Grant to catch up. And the two men had used a tag team approach to follow?
“Shit!”
He’d been too confident.
Not just you, Mack commented.
Get the hell out of my head.
He felt his brother withdraw. Well not entirely. He was still lurking around while he was organizing a team to follow Grant.
He wanted to rush after Jenny, but that would probably only get him captured. What he had to do now was keep calm and bide his time.
As he tried to bring his blood pressure under control, an idea flitted into his head. He’d been in telepathic communication with Jenny while she’d been sleeping. And the Carlos guy had knocked her out with something. Did that give Grant a chance to contact her now?
Jenny, he tried, Jenny, can you hear me?
When he got no answer, he wanted to shout in frustration, but he forced himself to stay calm. He tried several more times, but nothing happened.
“Shit,” he muttered again.
That hadn’t worked, but at least he finally thought it was safe to follow her. Starting the engine, he headed for the gate, keeping one eye on the tracking device.
The car with Jenny was heading north. And probably the other one, too. He’d have to make sure neither guy spotted him.
As he reached the gate, his phone buzzed, and he looked at the caller ID. It was Teddy from the Decorah IT department.
“What have you got for me?” he demanded as he pushed the release that opened the barrier. While Teddy kept talking, Grant drove through and closed the gate behind him.
“Glad she coughed up the Carlos Mardano name. He has a criminal record. Mob stuff. Illegal gambling. Robbing trucks carrying premium goods. And he’s gotten caught several times beating the crap out of guys from rival organizations.”
“Shit. And he’s got Jenny.”
“He’s likely taking her to the estate of Malcolm Oakland.”
“That’s Rambo? How do you know?”
“Well, I don’t know for sure, but Carlos works for the guy. He’s the boss of his organization.”
“Which does what?”
“Same stuff Carlos is into. Plus drugs, prostitution.”
“Christ. Sounds like a nice guy.”
Teddy made a commiserative sound.
Grant was still trying to get a handle on Oakland. “And he’s not young?”
“He’s in his sixties, but he keeps himself in good shape.”
“You got a picture.”
“Yeah. Moments later, a photo appeared on Grant’s phone screen. It was of a trim man with hair obviously dyed dark, a candid shot, probably taken with a telephoto lens.
Grant studied the picture, which had been taken at a garden party or some other outdoor event.
“Is he the one who kidnapped her?” Grant asked, thinking she had told him it was a younger man who had a child in elementary school. Of course a guy in his sixties could have a young child, too. But had she told the story but changed some of the details about the man?
“Don’t know,” Teddy answered.
“Okay, but you have the address of the estate? In case somehow I lose her on the GPS tracker.”
“Yes. It’s in a posh section of Morristown.” Teddy gave him the address. “We can send a drone over to get some pictures.”
“Right. Great idea.”
He had pulled over to talk to Teddy. When they ended the conversation he took off again, glad that he had a destination. But that didn’t help with his fear for Jenny. He’d seen firsthand what kind of guy Carlos was. But hopefully, in this case, he was just the messenger, charged with delivering a captive to Malcolm Oakland—presumably the Rambo guy. And then what? As far as Grant knew now, Jenny had run away from Oakland. And he’d gone to a lot of trouble to have her brought back. So he could keep her for himself? Or to punish her?
Grant shuddered. He was pretty sure Jenny had planned to show up unexpectedly and kill Oakland. Which made her desperate to sever the relationship. What did that say about the man? And Grant had another question. Why would Oakland trust her to get near him?
Too many unknowns swirled in Grant’s head. But all he could do was keep driving, praying that nothing bad was going to happen to Jenny before he could get her out of there.
oOo
About a half hour out from the estate, Grant’s cell phone buzzed again.
“We’re here,” Brand Marshall said.
“Huh?”
“Well, in the vicinity. About three miles down the road, so the guy won’t know we’re focused on him.”
“How did you beat me?”
“We flew. Not practical for invading, but good for speed.”
“Yeah.”
Brand told him where they were, and he headed for the meeting spot. It seemed to be in a residential neighborhood, and he was shocked to see it was a long, low red-brick ranch house with a large wooded lot in an upscale community where all the homes looked custom built.
When he climbed out of the car, he found Brand, Cole, Mack, Ben Walker, and Frank waiting for him in the driveway, which led to a three-car garage. They had driven from the local airport in two SUV’s.
“What are you doing here? Did you break into the house?” he asked.
Frank answered. “Nothing so dramatic. I talked to a real estate agent before I left Maryland and was able to arrange a short-term rental. I figure we could use a base of operations. Come on in.”
The interior was furnished in a traditional style, hardwood floors, Oriental rugs, comfortable chairs and sofas, and a large flat-screen TV in the family room. Grant dropped gratefully onto one of the couches facing the television. It was tempting to throw his head back and close his eyes for a few moments. Instead he asked the assembled group,
“You got any more information?”
Cole answered. “We’ve got video from the drone.”
“Okay. That’s good. Let’s see it.”
“You should probably give yourself a little breathing room,” Mack said.
Grant glared at him. “I’ll take some breathing room when Jenny is safe.”
Frank nodded. “We started with a flyover of the estate. But then we got lucky and spotted a car arriving. It turned out that was the guy bringing Jenny.”
“Is she okay?” Grant almost shouted.
“She was standing on her own two feet when she got out of the car. They hustled her into the house.”
“Let me see.”
Mack gaze him a sympathetic look. Ben put a CD into a player attached to the TV and turned both on. Grant gripped the edge of his chair as he watched the drone circle around a huge house, wide green lawns, a pool and tennis courts, all surrounded by a high iron fence. Then a car entered the compound. A man he recognized from the picture of Malcolm Oakland came out of the house. Carlos pulled Jenny from the car. Her hands were cuffed, and her head was downcast.
Oakland must have said something because her gaze jerked up, and she and Oakland stood facing each other. He seemed to be talking, his expression angry. Then he spoke to Carlos, and the underling marched Jenny through the front door and out of view. After that, the picture froze.
Grant closed his eyes for a moment. “At least I know she’s alive.” Then he turned to Frank. “How long ago was that?”
“Forty minutes,” the Decorah chief answered as he pulled a chair closer to Grant.
“And what the hell
does he want with her?”
“Sorry. We don’t know,” Ben answered.
In a hostile kidnap situation like this, Grant knew that forty minutes could be a lifetime. He also knew that rushing in without a plan could get Jenny killed.
Chapter Twenty-One
Grant glanced at the TV. The shot of Oakland standing alone in front of the house was still frozen on the screen. A bolt of anger shot through Grant, and it was all he could do to keep himself from throwing something at the hateful image. The man looked arrogant, sure of his power, and sure that the thugs who worked for him would carry out his orders without question.
“We’ll get her back,” Frank said, his voice deep and reassuring.
“How?”
“Maybe she can help.”
Grant dragged in a breath and let it out. “How?”
“In your report, you said you were able to communicate with Jenny—mind to mind.”
“Yesterday,” he spat out. “Today it didn’t work.”
“What did you do yesterday?”
“I . . . I,” he stopped and looked around the room, aware that everybody was watching the exchange. Although he had wanted to keep some information private, he knew that if he was going to help Jenny, he had to give his friends the facts they needed. But maybe there was a way to keep the X-rated part private.
He dragged in a breath and let it out before saying, “When we drove over to the safe house from Decorah headquarters, we weren’t saying much to each other. She went up to bed, and I stayed downstairs to work. When she went to sleep, she was dreaming about a place that looked like the VR. Somehow she pulled me in.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t really the VR. It was her . . . recreation of it because I think she felt safe in that environment. We were . . . together there,” he said, not catching anyone’s gaze and deliberately leaving out key details. “But when I tried to reach out to her on the way up here, I couldn’t make any progress.”
“You’re sure that wasn’t just your dream?” Frank asked.
