Hard to Handle

by Raven Scott

  The back seat was empty, and his heart dropped to the floor.

  CHAPTER 27

  Kaylee’s head was pounding and she felt sick. Slowly gaining consciousness, she knew pretty quickly that she was lying across the back seat of a car. She blinked with confusion, looking around and trying to figure out where she was. It hurt to turn her head, and her stomach lurched in protest, but she couldn’t tell if the nausea was from the pain in her head or the wild swaying of the vehicle. Within another minute, Kaylee could remember what had happened.

  Someone had grabbed her from the charity dinner, and her last memory was of Sam yelling her name.

  Sam!

  They had shot at him. Two men, several times. She looked around the confined space but saw only the head of the driver. The car swerved hard, throwing her prone body forward and back quickly. She reached out to brace herself, and realized that she wasn’t restrained. Testing her limbs for any signs of injury, Kaylee became more and more aware of her surroundings.

  She pushed herself up onto an elbow, very careful not to draw any attention. But then screamed when two gunshots popped loudly right near her. Right after that, there was another bang that sounded like an explosion and sent the car skidding to the side. The driver swore. Kaylee rolled forward on the seat until she was over the edge and sandwiched behind the two front seats. She was trying to push herself out when the driver swore again, even louder, and the car rammed hard into a solid object and jerked violently to a dramatic stop.

  Kaylee must have screamed with her eyes squeezed tight, but she couldn’t recall. Her next thought was that she was still alive. She took a breath, blinked, and listened. There were sirens, a hissing sound, and heavy breathing from the driver. Or was that her? Tentatively, she wiggled her right arm so that her hand was pressed to the floor of the car and slowly pushed herself up. Her shoulder burned right inside the socket. Inch by inch, she squeezed out from the space behind the front seats and rolled back onto the back bench, resting there for a few deep breaths.

  The driver started pushing at the firm plastic airbag that had deployed and filled the space between his body and the steering wheel. Kaylee knew she had to get out of there now, before he got free and was able to resume his abduction. Still lying down, and hoping to remain unseen, she looked to the passenger-side rear door, reaching for the handle. Finally, she pulled on the metal, but the door didn’t budge. It was locked. Desperate, she pulled again and gasped with relief when the latch released and the door opened. The driver’s-side door opened just as Kaylee was crawling out of the car and onto the flooded pavement.

  The car was wedged up on a fire hydrant, and the water was flowing steadily onto the street in a hard spray. The loud sound muffled everything else around her, adding to her confusion. The only thing she could think of was to run. She waited for a few seconds, trying to figure out where the driver was and if she could get away without being seen. The sirens were now almost louder than the gushing water. Kaylee squeezed her eyes tight and made a decision. Staying low with the body of the car to block her from view, she quickly crept away toward another car parked just after the collision site, then to the one after that, until she was sitting on its front bumper. She paused there, holding the bottom of her dress, ignoring the painful squeeze of her stiletto sandals.

  “Kaylee?”

  Sam? Was that his voice above the noisy commotion? Kaylee swallowed, looked around, then raised up just enough to look over the top of the car.

  “Sam,” she whispered.

  He was standing in the middle of the street, gun in hand and looking around. The body of the driver was laid out on the ground behind him. She stood up and whimpered.

  “Sam!” yelled Kaylee as she stepped out from between the two cars.

  Kaylee started walking toward him in a slow, painful gait just as three police cars pulled up around them with tires squealing. There were shouts, confusion, and guns drawn as everyone reacted to the situation. But she just kept walking as fast as her bruised feet would allow her. Sam put his gun away at his waist, shouted something, and started running toward her. Evan was there, yelling as he approached one of the officers, but all she could see was Sam until he was close enough to catch her.

  “I got you,” he told her with a thick burr, scooping her up into his arms and pulling her close to his chest.

  Over the next hour, he hardly let go of her. Evan was very effective at de-escalating the immediate situation and calming the officers on site. He soon had the crime scene under control. A fire truck and ambulance arrived a short time later, and Kaylee was efficiently examined for any injuries. Her arms hurt and her head had a lump near the left temple where the driver had knocked her out. Sam and the paramedic wanted her taken to the local hospital, but she refused. Kaylee just wanted to go home.

  At some point, Evan drove up to the scene in the truck they had driven from Alexandria to Baltimore earlier that day. Sam gently carried Kaylee into the back seat, and they drove away.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, looking around. They had been driving for about ten minutes before she realized they weren’t going back to the hotel just a few blocks from the accident. The painkillers she had been given were kicking in, and she was getting a little fuzzy around the edges.

  “I’m taking you back to Alexandria,” he told her.

  “What about Renee?”

  “She and Evan will stay here in Baltimore to help coordinate with the local police,” he explained softly.

  “But Evan’s driving, isn’t he?” she asked, maybe too quietly for Sam to hear.

  The car stopped a few minutes later, and Kaylee looked around, recognizing the area.

  “I used to live here,” she said with confusion as Sam lifted her out of the truck. He might have responded, but she was slowly fading into a deep sleep.

  At one point, about ten minutes later, she blinked a little, and looked around. Sam was holding her close to his side with her head resting on his chest. They were somehow up above the city, flying with the sun setting on the horizon. Her eyes fell again, and she marveled at the power of strong painkillers.

  It was several hours before Kaylee woke again. She moaned against the pain in her head.

  “Shhh,” Sam soothed her.

  She opened her eyes, and they were lying together in his bed. The room was dark.

  “Do you want something to drink? More pain relievers?” he whispered.

  “Please,” she managed to mumble. “What happened? Is everyone okay?”

  “Everything is fine. Go back to sleep—we’ll talk in the morning,” he suggested, pulling her close. “You did really well, lass.”

  The next time she woke up, it was bright outside and Sam was gone. Kaylee rolled onto her back. His spot was no longer warm. She paused there for another minute, staring up at the ceiling and recalling the series of events from the evening before. Someone had grabbed her, attempted to take her away for God knew what reason. But why? And why now?

  Other questions slowly filled her thoughts. What happened after Sam had taken her away? Who were those two men? What happened with the mayor and Sam’s proposition? Kaylee slowly scooted her bum to the edge of the mattress and sat up. There was still a headache and soreness, but it wasn’t horrible. Her mouth was dry and her stomach growled with hunger. There was a bottle of water on the side table, and she gratefully swallowed several mouthfuls.

  Feeling a little wobbly, Kaylee went into Sam’s bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face. Looking in the mirror, she noticed what she was wearing for the first time. It was a blue T-shirt with a crest on the chest and the name MACKENZIE embroidered along the bottom. She was naked underneath.

  In the large mirror above the sink, she looked at herself and acknowledged that she looked like a hot mess. There was a purple smudge on the side of her face, just above her left cheekbone. It was tender to the touch. Kaylee combed out her hair and put it up into a high ponytail. In the bedroom, she pulled on underwear and a pair
of yoga pants, then went to find Sam.

  He was sitting at the kitchen counter with Niko by his feet, and he stood up as she approached.

  “What are you doing out of bed?” he demanded with disapproval.

  “Hello to you too,” she teased. His frown softened a bit as he bent down to kiss her softly, lingering for a couple of seconds to play gently with her lips.

  “You should be resting,” he continued when they parted.

  She did feel really tired and still a little groggy.

  “I’ll rest out here,” she conceded. He helped her over to the sofa in the living room until she was reclined back against the arm with a cushion nestled in her lower back.

  “Is there anything to eat?” she asked. “I’m starving for some reason.”

  “That’s a good sign. Anything in particular? Coffee also?”

  “Yes, please.” It smelled fantastic. “Maybe just toast.”

  He brought both over and placed the plate and cup on a coffee table before sitting down at the other end of the couch, lifting her feet into his lap.

  “What time is it?” she asked while chewing on the warm, buttered bread.

  “Almost one o’clock.”

  “What? I can’t believe I slept that late.”

  “It’s the medication. You were restless through the night,” he explained.

  She ate a few more bites, drank half of her coffee.

  “So? Are you going to tell me what happened, or do I have to pry it out of you?” she finally demanded. “What happened with the mayor?”

  He began massaging one of her feet by gently rubbing his thumbs over the balls. How had he known they were so tender?

  “Nothing,” he said simply.

  “What do you mean? I saw you walk out of the room with him just like we had planned,” she insisted, sitting up a little higher.

  “Aye, I did. But he’s one to chat a bit about nothing,” he explained, shaking his head. “I was just introducing the topic when Renee said you had disappeared from the room.”

  “So you didn’t tell him about the evidence we have?”

  “No, I had to go find you, now didn’t I?” he insisted making her feel a little ungrateful for his effort. “But it hardly matters now.”

  “Why not? Who were those men that grabbed me?” she asked.

  “We’ve confirmed their identities, but they’re just local, hired thugs,” he explained. “The driver is known as Lucky, but his real name is Frank Pacini. He’s a known associate to Nicolas Francesco. That’s the guy who attacked you in the hotel.”

  He added the last detail when it was clear that she didn’t recognize the name.

  “But that doesn’t make any sense. I thought he was sent because of the threats from Ross Construction and the bid in Paterson?” Kaylee questioned. “He said he was there to prove that they were serious.”

  “Well, there’s definitely a connection. Lucas sent me a note just before you woke up to say he has an update for me,” he explained. “Do you feel up to listening in?”

  “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “Okay, I’ll see if he’s ready now to meet.”

  She lowered her feet and sat up straight, wincing only a little. Sam typed a few things into his phone, then turned on the giant panel-screen television mounted on the wall across from the couch. The image on the screen changed a few times until there was a clear view of a live video stream of a boardroom. Lucas Johnson appeared on the screen, and Kaylee realized they were connected to the Fortis headquarters.

  “Are Evan and Renee back from Baltimore yet?” she asked while Sam configured the video connection a little more.

  “They arrived this morning, and they’re at the office now. They’ll join the call also.”

  She let out a deep breath and waited as patiently as possible for some information.

  “Sam?” Lucas asked, looking at them through the television as though they were in the same room.

  “Aye, we can see you.”

  The door behind him opened as Evan and Renee walked into the room wearing their customary black cotton clothing. They flanked Lucas on either side.

  “How are you feeling, Mikayla?” Evan asked with concern creasing his strong features.

  “I’ll be fine,” she assured him, and he smiled.

  “Okay, let’s get started,” Sam said. “Renee, can you fill us in on McMann?”

  “Mark?” Kaylee interrupted with surprise. “Why?”

  “Listen,” Sam urged softly.

  “He was standing on the opposite side of the room from the bathrooms when I noticed that Kaylee was gone,” Renee explained. “He seemed normal, talked to a few people, and had a drink. But he checked his phone regularly. I also noticed that he stayed well away from the mayor over the next half hour or so.”

  “How long did he stay?” Sam asked.

  “For a good hour after the crash. We could hear the sirens, but it was very faint, so few people noticed. But I’m pretty sure he did,” she continued. “He checked his phone for a bit, then stopped. Nothing much after that.”

  “Renee and I followed him from the dinner to the outskirts of the city until he drove inside the Central Cement plant,” added Evan. “There was a pretty strong security setup out front, so we stayed under cover until he came out about forty minutes later. Then he went home.”

  “Where is he now?” Sam asked. Kaylee listened quietly, still trying to understand where it was going.

  “He was home until about ten-thirty this morning, but he’s now at his office,” Lucas explained as he pressed a couple of buttons on the tablet he held.

  The video display divided, and a still picture appeared on the screen of Mark McMann in an underground garage. It was clearly from some kind of public surveillance equipment.

  “So, what else do we know about him now that we didn’t before?” Sam asked. “What was he doing there last night?”

  “He’s a member of the Scottish Society,” Kaylee said. “That’s what he told me when we spoke.”

  “What else did he tell you?” Sam asked softly.

  “Nothing, really. He was more surprised to see me there,” she recalled. “Then he said he wanted me to meet someone about a job.”

  As she said the words out loud, it became very obvious that Mark McMann had set her up for the abduction. She had willingly followed him to the exact spot where that animal could grab her. It was likely the stress that had followed and the powerful pain medication that had prevented her from connecting the dots sooner.

  “What else?” Sam urged.

  “Nothing that I can think of,” Kaylee admitted.

  “Well, we managed to find plenty of interesting things about McMann,” Lucas declared. “Raymond and I did a little fact-checking last night after Evan’s update to us. The company he works for now, Quinten Laboratories, describes itself as a research and development company that develops and tests new uses for minerals and other ground materials. What they don’t advertise is that they have only four clients for these new discoveries. All four companies are cement manufacturers across the eastern seaboard.”

  Lucas put up four pictures, with Central Cement being the first.

  “It appears that Quinten is a new-age racketeering operation,” he explained. “They get federal government funding for independent industrial research. That research discovers that new forms of cement products are better. These four companies are the only manufacturers of the new and better products, which they sell back to the government. What’s even better is that all four cement manufacturers are owned by the same man, Patrick O’Toole.”

  His image went up on the screen, showing a small man in his early sixties with wrinkled ivory skin, pale blue eyes, and a small patch of gray hair.

  “If you look deep enough, it turns out that Patrick O’Toole also owns Quinten Laboratories.”

  “I recognize him,” Sam stated suddenly. “I’ve seen a photo of him standing with Kaylee and her mother about three years ago.”
>
  “Where?” asked Kaylee, looking hard at the professional headshot, trying to remember the man.

  “It was a charity event of some sort,” Sam explained. “The picture was in the paper.

  “Interesting,” Evan mumbled.

  “That’s just the beginning, my friends,” Lucas replied. “What is one of the biggest uses for cement in the United States?”

  “Construction,” Kaylee answered, sitting up straighter.

  “You got it,” confirmed Lucas.

  “So Mark McMann leaves the newspaper business to take an executive job in what turns out to be a major supplier to construction sites,” Sam surmised.

  “Seemed obvious that something was up, and I had Raymond go through all the data we had collected on Jason Holt and George Clement, then all the information on the Antonoli assignment. We added McMann to the mix, and there was one common denominator, Nate Battleford.”

  The picture of the now-dead Groveland employee came up.

  “Battleford is the only one who communicated with Holt during the bribe at the Baltimore Journal. He worked for Fleming at Groveland for over six years, and he was taken down at the Ross building site.”

  There was now a map of pictures displayed on the screen with process flow arrows to highlight the connections.

  “How does that connect McMann to anything other than firing Holt four years ago?” Kaylee asked.

  “We have Sam to thank for that. Battleford’s SIM card was a wealth of information once we knew what we were looking for,” Lucas explained. “We already knew he emailed Holt to arrange the bribe. We now know that he also communicated directly with McMann just before McMann left the paper and got the job at Quinten.”

  “He’s a fixer,” Evan stated.

  “It looks that way,” Lucas confirmed. “Battleford had a pretty impressive list of contacts for various means, including our new friend Lucky. No surprise since the guy who attacked Kaylee was sent by Lucky from Baltimore. But this time, Lucky was working for McMann directly.”

  “Why did he suggest that the mayor was responsible for bribing Holt, and then have me grabbed by those goons?” Kaylee asked.