by Angi Morgan
No more stalling. This fight was bigger than just one man. He had to trust that Aiden wouldn’t turn him in.
“If I were still in charge of Tenoreno’s transport, I’d arrange for air travel. It would be limited ground vulnerability. At this point the state prosecutor is probably scrambling to even make that a private jet.”
“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Aiden said. “Hypothetically.”
In other words, Josh was right. They planned to move Tenoreno from the state prison via plane to Austin for the trial.
“Since we’re just talking here, you know what’s bothered me? Why did the kidnappers go to so much trouble to put your situation in the public eye? I mean, they could have kept the kidnapping quiet, but they drew you to a popular, normally crowded place.”
“If I were Tenoreno’s son, a plane is the fastest route out of the country. Huntsville’s just a hop into the Gulf and then international waters. All he has to do is hijack the plane.”
“That’s a fairly sound guess of what they’re likely to do.” Aiden tapped his fingertips together, thinking.
“Dammit. Is that what all of this is about? Make the kidnapping public so the transfer is by plane instead of car? I thought it was just about gaining access to my credentials so the kidnaper could get close enough to free Tenoreno.”
“They manipulated the kidnapping to force you to hijack a plane?” Aiden nodded his head, agreeing, not really asking a question.
“It would make it harder to recapture Tenoreno. Harder for the FBI or Rangers or any law enforcement not to comply since the twins are at risk.”
The kidnapping made sense.
“Did you find out why Tracey’s uncle sent the guards? Who notified them?”
Josh shook his head, shrugging.
“Too upset? I understand.” The older man stood, joining Josh by sitting on the opposite corner of the desk. “We’ll be ready. I guarantee that. And if you just happen to let me see the number you’re using on that new phone, then I might have a misdial in my future letting you know what plane and airfield.”
Josh turned on the cell and Aiden nodded his head.
“Here’s something to ponder while we wait.” He jotted down the number. “How did Miss Cassidy’s entourage get here? On one hand maybe the kidnappers really want her to take care of the kids. Maybe they just made a mistake not abducting her at the same time. On the other, Xander Tenoreno might have alerted her uncle. That means he knows she’s from money. Maybe the kidnappers know too and want a piece of that cash cow.”
“How rich is rich?” Josh asked.
“Probably need to have a conversation with the source about that.”
Aiden was a wise man. Josh stuck out his hand, grabbing the older man’s like a lifeline. It was the first hope he’d had since the van had crashed.
“I can’t thank you enough, Aiden.”
“I haven’t done anything yet. A lot of this depends on you.”
Josh looked at Gwen’s artwork. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”
“Just remember, you’re not alone.”
* * *
PULLING A LIGHT throw up to her chin, Tracey curled up as small on the couch as she could get. She closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep, wanting everyone in the house to leave her alone. The FBI agent who’d picked her up at the hospital encouraged her to take the upstairs bedroom.
Josh’s room?
George Lanning had no way of knowing she hadn’t been in that room since Gwen had gotten very, very ill. It was better to be bothered by people in the living room than to be alone in Josh’s bed.
“Miss Cassidy?”
“What?” she answered the bodyguard, who hadn’t left her side since coming into her life.
“It’s your uncle.”
Part of her wanted to tell him to call off these guard dogs and part of her wanted to ignore him—as he’d obviously ignored her for the past several hours. The best thing was to confront the situation and attempt to discover his true motives.
She sat up, tugged her shirt straight and was ready to get to the heart of things. It had been a while since she’d thought of her grandmother’s advice when facing a problem. But the words were never truer than at that moment.
Taking the phone, she drew in a deep breath placing the phone next to her ear, ready for an attack.
“Tracey, darling, are you okay?”
“Who is this?” The female voice was a little familiar, but it had been a long time since she’d had contact with her family. She couldn’t be sure who it was.
“It’s your auntie Vickie, dear. Are you on your way home yet?”
“I don’t have an aunt Vickie.” At least she hadn’t when she’d gone to court to change her name. There hadn’t even been a Vickie in her uncle’s life. Then again, there’d always been someone like a Vickie.
“I know I’ve met you, dear. I’ll admit—only to you—that it’s been much too long.”
“Where is my uncle? I was told he was calling.” She didn’t have time to speak with a secretary or even a new wife. She wanted the confrontation over and the guys in the black suits off her elbow.
“Well,” the woman’s voice squeaked, “he’s not really available, but I thought you needed to know that it’s important for you to come home.”
“Wait, my uncle didn’t tell you to call?”
Vickie began a long, in-depth explanation why she’d taken it upon herself to contact her and explain the complexity of the situation in her childhood home. Tracey tuned her out.
Home? The room surrounding her, keeping her warm and safe, was more of a home than any room had ever been in Fort Worth. That place had been more like a museum or mausoleum. Beautiful, but definitely a do-not-touch world.
As a little girl, she’d had the best interior designers. Everything had been pink. She couldn’t stand pink for the longest time. Now she had to bite her tongue whenever Sage wanted a dress in the color.
Realizing the phone was in her lap instead of her hand, she clicked the big red disconnect button and put an end to a stranger’s attempt to coax her home. Her new constant companion reached to retrieve it, when it rang again.
Tracey answered herself, more prepared, less surprised. “Yes?”
“Listen to me, you spoiled little brat.” Vickie didn’t try to disguise the venom. “Carl wants you back here pronto. Niceties aside, you should do what you’re told.”
“Vickie...dearest—” she could make the honey drip from her voice, too “—I walked away a long time ago. There is absolutely no road for me that leads back there.”
The red button loomed. Tracey clicked. It wasn’t hard. Not now.
The phone vibrated in her hand. She tossed it to the opposite end of the couch. Totally content with her decision. Her uncle wasn’t calling her back and, whoever Vickie was, she couldn’t do anything to help save the children.
“I only have two things for you to do,” she said to the guard. “My first is that you both get in that car of yours and leave. Without me. The second is not to interrupt me again unless it’s really my uncle calling. Period. No secretaries. No Auntie Vickies that haven’t celebrated as many birthdays as I have. No one except him. And don’t say that you don’t work for me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded and backed up to the door.
What he was acknowledging, she didn’t care. Just as long as he stayed next to the door and let her wonder where Josh had gone or whether he was coming back. If she were him she wondered what she’d be thinking.
Before she could lean back into the cushions, the man answered his phone and held it in her direction.
“Speaker, please.”
He mumbled into the phone, pressed a button and...
“Tracey? You there?”
She ra
ised her hand, using her fingers to indicate she’d take the call. She popped it off Speaker and paused long enough to fill her lungs again.
“Hi, Uncle Carl.”
“You okay, Tracey?” Her uncle didn’t sound upset. He might even sound concerned. “I heard there was an accident and a car fire.”
“I’m good. My head hurts from earlier, but I’m sure you already have the hospital records.”
“It’s been a while. I have to apologize for Vickie. She sometimes gets...overly enthusiastic.”
“She sounded like it.” He hadn’t called to talk about his girlfriend, which was the category she could safely put the woman in. He hadn’t said anything about getting married. The man was in his fifties and had avoided a matrimonial state his entire life.
“I assume you don’t want to come home.”
“I am home. My place is here and the men you sent— You did send them, didn’t you?”
“As soon as I heard you were assaulted.”
“You should have asked me first.” As if that step had ever been part of his trickeries.
“You would have said no.”
“Of course I would have said no. I work for a Texas Ranger who has a lot of law enforcement access. Why in the world would I need two bodyguards to muck things up?”
“Muck?”
“Yes, Uncle Carl, muck. They arrived and everything became a big mess. Josh is gone, the kids are still in danger, Jackson doesn’t have anyone there that understands diabetes. Yes, everything’s pretty mucked up.”
“Mr. Parker’s children are in danger?”
“They were kidnapped. That’s the reason the FBI called you.”
“The FBI? Did they tell you they spoke with me?”
“No. I just assumed that’s how you found me.” Wasn’t that what Agent McCaffrey had insinuated?
“That’s ridiculous. I’ve never not known where you are. Just because you changed your name doesn’t stop you from being my niece and my responsibility. I’m your guardian, but more importantly, we’re family.”
It sounded good. The speech wasn’t unlike the words that she’d heard most of her life. It did surprise her that he’d known exactly where she was. Well, then again, it didn’t. She hadn’t gone far.
Same city, same school—she only lived four blocks from the place he’d been paying for. That all made sense. What didn’t was his statement that he hadn’t heard from the FBI.
“Concern for me was never a problem.”
“Ah, yes, you wanted your freedom. Well, anonymously donating to your university down there, did keep me informed.”
Same old, same old. Carl was very good at saying a lot of nothing.
“Can we stop this? Just tell me what it’s going to take to call off your bodyguard brigade.”
“I think you need to sit the rest of this out. Come back here where I can keep an eye on you. Better yet, you’ve finished your presentation, so why not take a long overdue vacay to someplace breezy. You always liked the beach.”
“You’re wrong, and this time you have no control over my life.” She caught the upward tilt of lips—mostly smirk—of the man at the door. Right. Her uncle’s money would always have influence over her life. Money always did. “Just call off your goons.”
“That won’t be happening. They’re there for your safety. You need them.” Carl’s voice was more than a little smug. As usual, it was full of confidence that his choice was the only choice.
“That couldn’t be farther from the truth.”
Her uncle never did anything without proper motivation. So what was motivating him this time?
“No need to argue the point any longer, Tracey. I returned your call, answered your questions and have informed you what your option is. Yes, I’m aware you only have one. I must say good night.”
“You aren’t going to win.” It embarrassed her to feel her face contract with a cringe. She knew the words were a fool’s hope as soon as she said them.
“My dear, I already have. Those men are not about to leave your side. They’d never work anywhere again. Ever. And they know it.”
The phone disconnected and she was no closer to discovering the truth of why her uncle sent the bodyguards. Man, did that sound conceited. Josh would want to know the entire story and specifically that answer when he returned. If he returned.
Part of the discussion in the past couple of hours was that Josh had a new phone and it was taking much too long to discover the number. Something to do with finding the kiosk owner, then a person who actually had keys to obtain the sales records. Followed by getting permission to enter the mall.
In other words, they had no clue where Josh was. No one could find him on the road. Some of their conversation had been that the kidnappers may have already contacted him. If so, then at least he had the Jackson emergency kit with him. Josh could monitor his son, save both of his kids.
The bodyguard silently retrieved his phone. He stepped on the other side of the door to take a phone call, but she mostly heard manly grunts of affirmation.
Tracey wanted to run and lock the door. Of course, there wasn’t a lock, but it didn’t stop her from wanting to be completely alone. She could sulk as good as the rest of them. But it felt ridiculous feeling sorry for herself.
What problem did she have? It was Josh’s twins who were missing. Josh would have to do whatever it took to get them back. She could sit here and offer support. Be the loyal day care provider. Her role in the family had been made quite clear when Josh had left her behind.
“Your uncle wants you back in Fort Worth in the morning. We’ll leave here at eight sharp, giving you time for some rest.” He stood with his back to the door as if he were a guard in front of the Tower of London. Eyes front, not influenced by any stimuli around him.
“I’m not a child and you can’t force me to get in a vehicle, especially with the FBI here. I’m not going anywhere. I’m waiting here for Josh.” At least she hoped he’d return. “And I’m going to help find his kids. Get with this agenda or leave.”
The guard didn’t answer. He was a good reflection of her uncle, not listening to her. She curled into the corner of the couch again, pulling the blanket over her shoulder. He was right about one thing—she did need some rest. Because when Josh came back, he would need her help.
And she would be here to give it to him.
Chapter Eight
“Where the hell have you been?” McCaffrey burst through the front door, storming across the porch before Josh had the car in Park.
“Not my problem if your guys can’t keep up.” He didn’t care if the agent thought he was a smart-ass. He had barely been thinking when he’d left the river.
During the twenty-minute car ride from Ranger headquarters, he hadn’t come up with a way to get him and Tracey out of the house. It didn’t help that he lived in the middle of nowhere and there wouldn’t be any sneaking off without guards noticing. Men were everywhere again. One of the bodyguards who had stopped Josh from reaching the van sat in a dark sedan parked in front of the barn.
Bodyguards complicated the equation.
What the hell was he going to do?
“Oh thank God! You’re all right,” Tracey said when his feet hit the porch. “Can we talk? Let me explain?”
Did he want to go there? Then again, when had it mattered what he wanted? Life had proven his wants didn’t matter. He had to confront Tracey and talk things out. But when? That was the question he decided was relevant. And who else needed to be confronted—the FBI, local PD or Tracey’s bodyguards?
Notably absent was the only organization that held the answer he needed. He had to trust Aiden Oaks, but knew the men in Company F had his back. He’d find out the specifics of moving Tenoreno.
He hadn’t been able to speak with Bryce
. Maybe find out where their tail had been during the bridge incident and why the rangers had been unable to follow the kidnapper from the van.
If they had, Josh would know. First things first. He had to deal with the people back in his house. McCaffrey was standing on the front sidewalk. Looked like he was first, then Tracey.
“You aren’t supposed to be here. Pack it up, Agent.”
“Did they make contact with you? Is that the reason you returned?”
“I don’t know who’s out there watching this conversation. Leave.” Josh pointed to the empty dark sedans. Then he turned to the cop on his front lawn. “They have two minutes to clear out or arrest them for trespassing.”
“I’m not sure I have that authority,” he replied.
“Dammit.” Josh glared at McCaffrey. “I probably don’t have a choice, but I’m begging you for my kids’ lives...leave.”
“I have my orders.”
Josh was dazed to a point that he couldn’t speak. No words would form. His mind went to a neon sign that flashed. “Jackson might die.”
“Josh, come on inside. You can’t do this.”
Tracey tugged on his hands. Hands that were twisted in the shirt collar circling McCaffrey’s neck. How? When? The blackness. It all ran together until everything sort of blurred.
He released the FBI agent and let Tracey lead him inside. He thought she pointed at a man who took care of emptying the room. “How do we get rid of him and his partner?” he asked once he realized it was the second bodyguard.
“Are you okay?”
“Sure. No. I just... I don’t know what happened back there.” Josh shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t remember going for McCaffrey.”
“You’re upset, exhausted. The stress that you’re under is—”
“Things like this don’t happen to me. I don’t let them.” He shrugged away from the comfort Tracey might offer. He wasn’t a pacing man.
When he needed to think he lifted his feet up on the corner of his desk and flipped a pencil between his fingers. He paced so Tracey wouldn’t be near him. What if he lost it again?
