“Where’s Lexie?” Alex couldn’t take chances. Not with his family. Never again.
“Relax, she’s playing with the dogs. I can hear her giggling and bossing them in the dollhouse from here. They’re probably dressed in drag by now.”
Thank God. Not for the drag outfits, which were most likely just Lexie’s doll’s clothes, but that the women Alex held dear, were safe and accounted for.
The dollhouse, their euphemism for the steel-walled, vault-like safe room, had been decorated like a little girl’s bedroom/playroom. When he’d planned it, Alex hoped he’d never have to use it. Complete with frilly curtains on windows that were really closed-circuit television screens, a locked weapon’s safe that looked like a storybook tower, plenty of treats, and a chest full of plush stuffed animals, it would protect Kelsey, Lexie, and the dogs if needed. Better yet, to Lexie it was just another fun place to nap, play, or watch one of her kiddie DVDs. The safe room was all about keeping her innocent and alive as long as he could.
Alex took his first deep breath since Kelsey dropped the phone and hung up on him. “Don’t take chances,” he warned her.
“Understood, Boss. Now about McKenna. How can I get her or the paramedics inside without them getting hurt?”
“I’m not your boss. You’d never listen to me even if I were.”
“Then how’d I learn to shoot and stand up for myself?” Kelsey’s confidence came through loud and clear. “Who taught me that? I was listening then, wasn’t I?”
There was that. Still seated in Detective Oberg’s office, Alex refused to spar over the phone with his wife. Because she was right. Of course Lexie and Beau were safe. Alex was the hardhead, not her. “Listen, Maverick got in from Indonesia last night. He’s at home with China today. I’ll call him to collect McKenna. You stay put until they get there.”
Another agent, Maverick Carson owned a horse ranch within miles of Alex and Kelsey’s home.
“Copy that,” she replied, mimicking his agents’ responses. Still teasing him, damn it. “I’ll just call McKenna then and tell her what’s going on, so—”
“No!” This woman didn’t know the meaning of the word obey. “This is serious!”
“Now, you listen to me, Alex. I’m not the pitiful little waif you found on your porch all those years ago. I’m not defenseless, and I’m not frightened of the world like I used to be. I may not work for you, but I’ve worked with you long enough to know how to protect my home and our daughter. You know I can do that too, admit it. Now call Maverick, while I let McKenna know what’s going on. Once they arrive, I’ll let them in through the garage, but only after the dogs check for the Boogeyman, understood?”
Alex would’ve retorted ‘Copy that,’ if he hadn’t been so damned far away and felt so helpless. He hadn’t been there when Sara and Abby died, nor the times Kelsey was attacked. True, he hadn’t met her until after her ex tried to kill her, but...
Son-of-a-bitch, this can’t be happening again.
“Alex?” she asked quietly. “I’m sorry. I know you’re upset, and I don’t mean to tease, because nothing about this is funny. You know I love you more than life itself, but I’m being extra-cautious like you taught me. The house is locked down, and Howie’s sending a patrol car over. If I know him, he’s probably behind the wheel and rushing to my rescue just like you wish you were. Please don’t be mad. I won’t let anything happen to Lexie. Trust me, honey.”
“I’m not mad, I’m just...” Scared.
The local sheriff, Howie Prince, was a good friend. The man was as honorable as they came, and Alex trusted him implicitly even as shame crept up the back of his stiff neck. He’d never meant to insinuate that Kelsey would ever let anything happen to Lexie. None of this was her fault.
Like Alex, she hadn’t been with her two sons when they’d died, either. Not a day went by she didn’t feel totally responsible for what they’d suffered. The curse of survivor’s guilt sucked the joy out of the rest of your life. Every. Single. Minute.
Okay, then. “I love you, woman,” he told her despite Detective Oberg’s annoyed fingertips tapping his desk again. Still. Whatever!
“And I love you, Alex. Now come home to us. We’ve got work to do.”
“On my way,” he said as he disconnected what could very well be his last time speaking with his wife.
Shaken at all he stood to lose—again—Alex told Oberg, “Beau Jennings is at my house, and I have reason to believe Catalina Montego is inside my gated-community. The local authorities are in transit. Officer Howie Prince. He’s a good man. I can give you his cell number.” Hell, I can give you the entire sheriff departments’ numbers if you want them.
Oberg scribbled down names, numbers, and addresses even as he kept lifting his head to level more than a dark stare on Alex. “So, you know the perpetrator.”
“I believe I do, yes. Catalina Montego. Cuban. Thirty-five-years old. Blonde, least she was the last time I saw her in Norfolk. Brother was Roland Montego.”
Oberg kept writing. “The human trafficker killed in Cuba last year? That was you who ended him?”
Alex shook his head. “One of my men, not me.”
That seemed to impress the detective. For the first time, respect glimmered in his eyes.
“My wife spotted her two doors down from our place, at Congressman Ringer’s home.”
“Where’s Ringer?”
“Supposedly he and his wife Eloise are on a cruise.”
“You think Montego left the note.” Oberg had an odd way of not asking questions.
“I’m certain. She’s a predator, plain and simple. Her brother ran one of the most depraved human trafficking rings we’ve ever come across, and she helped him with every despicable thing he did.” Alex’s heart strayed to the little boy Seth rescued on that nightmare op into Cuba. Christopher had years of therapy ahead of him, but he was one of the lucky ones. He was now home with his parents. They loved him and would ensure he received counseling. But what about all the other missing girls and boys, young women, and young men out there in the world? Who was rescuing them?
Kelsey had better be extra-smart and extra-careful today. “Tell me, how many open cases concerning missing young adult males have you had over the last ten years? Specifically military members?”
A shadow darkened Oberg’s smug face. “Dozens.”
“Let me guess. All early twenties. None of them seen or heard from again.” And all with families, moms and dads, wives and children, left waiting and worrying what had happened to these men.
Oberg nodded. “No suspects. No leads. And no evidence of foul play in any of those disappearances.”
“Just missing men,” Alex confirmed, his gaze back to the police photos of Beau’s bloody finger. “So where are the bodies?”
Chapter Six
Dr. McKenna Fitzgerald, a pediatrician at the local family care clinic, had just finished monthly inoculations on the Bryce triplets. At three months, the terribly cute but bald little girls were thriving despite, or maybe because of, their mother’s very weary demeanor. New moms and dads never got enough sleep, but the parents of triplets? McKenna couldn’t imagine their harried schedule, and poor Carol Bryce looked beyond frazzled. Since her husband drove truck for a freight forwarding company, she usually came to these well-baby appointments alone and always at her wits end.
Today the woman wore faded jeans and a simple cotton blouse with burp stains on the shoulder. She’d cut her hair short when she’d gotten pregnant, but her dark roots were showing a good two inches. Poor thing.
On the other hand, Pamela, Penelope, and Pippa were immaculate, their matching outfits pressed, and sleeping like the well-fed little charmers they were.
“Penelope has teeth now. Two of them,” Carol said as she massaged her left breast. “Can I stop nursing them? At least her. Please? She bites.”
“You’re breastfeeding?” McKenna had no idea. She scanned the girls’ file for that mi
ssing detail, but no. There it was in indelible ink, in her handwriting: Mother declined breastfeeding. Formula. “I thought Rocks didn’t want you to do that.” Rocks Bryce, her overbearing but lovable hubby.
Carol scoffed. “He didn’t until one of the guys he drives with told him it’s the best birth control method known to man. Like he’s an expert.”
Yeah, about that… McKenna winced. “No wonder you’re exhausted. Yes. At least start weaning them to formula. We can’t have you depleted, while they thrive, can we?” She noted the triplets’ medical chart before she shared the rest of the story. “I hate to tell you this, but women can still get pregnant while lactating. If you and your husband have resumed intercourse, you really need to be on birth control, at least for the first year, maybe longer. Your body needs time to heal, and you’re not ready for another pregnancy. Nothing’s foolproof, but that old wives’ tale will only get you a bigger family every time.”
Carol’s mouth dropped open. “No…”
“Who’s your ob-gyn? I can get you in to see him or her while you’re here if they practice at our clinic,” McKenna said, her fingers already on her handset.
Tears brimmed this poor woman’s eyes, but the anguish on her face? Sad. Really sad. “I can’t be pregnant. Not so soon. Not again. McKenna, what’ll I do?”
“Simple. You’ll run see your doctor right now, while we start these little angels on formula, that’s what you’ll do. Trust me, sweetie. The sooner you know, the sooner you can get on birth control.” I hope. “Think positive, Carol. And if you need help at home, I’ve got the perfect helpers for mothers with new babies. Better yet, they work for free, and a couple of them will do light housework for you.”
Carol snagged a tissue from the box on the counter and patted her teary eyes. “W-who?”
“First, let me make that call. Do you have time to see your doctor today?”
“No way. I’ve had it. Maybe tomorrow morning after the girls’ baths.”
McKenna rang her front desk. “Margo, could you make a morning appointment with…” she looked to Carol for a name.
“Filbert.”
“With Dr. Filbert for Carol Bryce. Thank you.”
“So tell me about these helpers.”
“Have you heard of Golden Horizons?” McKenna replied as she settled the phone on its cradle.
“The senior center down the road?”
“That’s the one. Three times a week, some of those dear people volunteer to help my new parents. They’ll come to your home for a couple hours, and they’ll rock, feed, or bathe your babies, anything to help. If the babies are asleep, they’ve been known to watch TV while you take a nap. Here’s their number if you’re interested.”
Carol took the card from McKenna’s fingers and stood, casting one eye on her sleeping trio, blissfully unaware of the chaos their births had caused. “Did you come up with this idea?”
“Senior citizens helping new moms and dads? Nah.” McKenna shrugged that notion off. “I just made the suggestion one afternoon while I was over there playing Parcheesi with Dad. They’re the ones who volunteered. As my dad says, it’s better to be seen than viewed.”
A knock at the door preceded Margo’s bright smiling face. “Here’s your appointment card, Mrs. Bryce. Ten am sharp, tomorrow morning. Aw, look how sweet those little angels are.”
Carol finally smiled. “Yes, they are my angels. And they might get a sister or a brother before we know it.”
“You’re pregnant?”
“I hope not.” This time, Carol chuckled. A little. She wasn’t ecstatic over the prospect of motherhood so soon after delivering triplets, but she seemed in a better frame of mind than when she’d first arrived.
“Dr. Fitz, you’ve got a call on line one,” Margo said. “Kelsey Stewart’s waiting for you.”
“Are you going to be okay?” McKenna asked Carol before she dismissed this poor mother. People who believed stay-at-home moms didn’t work were morons.
“I am now,” Carol replied as she gripped one baby carrier while she slung her purse and diaper bag over her shoulder. Margo knew the drill. She lifted the other two sleeping angels in their carriers to give Carol a much-needed assist out to her family van.
McKenna squeezed between the baby carrier and Carol’s purse to hug her. “You call me if you need anything, understood? I’m always here for you, day or night.”
Carol squeezed back. “Thank you so much. I’ll be okay. I promise.”
“I know you will,” McKenna whispered before she eased out of her patient’s arms. She didn’t hug others often, but this one needed a rope to hang onto, and McKenna was that rope. At least, she was the knot tied at the frayed end of it. Children, all children, needed a healthy, balanced emotional start in life and usually a happy mother was the one who made it happen. “See you in one month.”
As the door closed, McKenna answered her phone. “Hi, Kelsey. What can I do for you today?”
“I have an emergency, McKenna, only it’s not Lexie, and I can’t explain over the phone. Can you make a house call? Please? Now?”
“Sure. I’ve just said goodbye to my last patient for the morning. What’s happened?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here, but I’m sending an escort. Don’t leave until Maverick Carson arrives. He’ll be there in a minute.”
“China’s husband?” How odd? “Since when do I need an escort to your house? You’re like eight, maybe nine miles away. I’m pretty sure I know the way and….” She jingled the keys in her pants pocket. “Hey, look, Mom, I’ve got my very own car, and I know how to drive.”
“Please, don’t ask. I need you to be safe. Hurry.”
The connection ended just as Margo peeked her head back into the exam room. “Have I got a patient for you,” she breathed, fanning herself. The slender brunette had a way of making fifty look like the new thirty. “Puh-leeeeze, I mean pretty puh-leeeeze let me assist while you examine him. Pretend I’m your nurse, okay? I just want to touch this guy, like all over.”
This day was becoming just plain weird. Her secretary was acting like a hormonal cougar, and her best friend had gone spooky only seconds ago. Was there a full moon?
“Would his name be Maverick Carson?”
Margo rolled her dark eyes and licked her lips. “That’s the one.”
“Calm down. It’s not like he’s here for a well-baby visit. Where is he?” McKenna peered past her flirty office helper, and... Well hello, baby.
McKenna hadn’t yet met China’s busy hubby but talk about one tall, lean, rugged-looking cowboy right out of the wild, wild West. Rider jeans, worn thin at the knees and frayed at the hems, hung over scuffed, dusty work boots. A tight black and gray checkered shirt, complete with metal snaps in lieu of buttons, stretched over a wide chest that looked chiseled and taut and downright delectable. Best yet, he fingered a dusty brown Stetson that cinched the look.
Most guys wouldn’t have taken their hats off indoors for fear of hat hair, not that this guy had to worry about that. Short but thick and rich, dark chocolate waves hung over his forehead as he stood there with his back against the wall, watching the waiting room like a soldier on guard duty.
“Isn’t he yummy?” Margo whispered. “Don’t you want to eat him up?”
McKenna couldn’t answer the woman who was old enough to be Maverick’s mother, but yes. China’s man certainly looked downright lickable. Like an all-day sucker. Just the idea of him coming for her, kickstarted McKenna’s nearly dormant libido.
He’s married. Get your mind out of the gutter.
She pressed a palm to the door, breaking hers and Margo’s views, while hoping this tall, handsome fellow hadn’t spotted them making fools of themselves like a couple teenage girls.
“Umm…” What was I going to say? Oh, yeah. “Grab my medical bag for me. It’s in the closet behind my desk. I’ve got a house call.”
“Can I go, too?” Margo nearly squealed. Wh
at was it with older women? Did they all turn into horny old ladies after menopause hit?
“Will you stop? Get my bag while I sign out the drugs I need. Go.”
Margo cracked the door, still peeking. “If one of them’s Viagra, I don’t think he’ll need it.”
“Now,” McKenna said sternly as she put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. “This house call is an emergency, and I need to run. Meet me at the front desk. Hurry.”
Not certain exactly what Kelsey might need, McKenna signed for a painkiller, then grabbed a few generic supplies to restock her bag. Antibiotics. A suture kit. Another blood pressure cuff. By then, Margo was in the waiting room, bouncing McKenna’s medical bag off her knee while she grilled Maverick. “You raise horses?”
He nodded, his gaze straying over her shoulder to McKenna. “Yes, ma’am, I do. Dr. Fitzgerald?” he asked as he extended his right hand and straightened his shoulders. “Pleased to meet you. Maverick Carson at your service. I’ll be escorting you to Kelsey Stewart’s.”
She nodded, intent on acting professional. Kelsey’s husband was a looker, too, but this guy radiated enough testosterone to bottle, sell, and make a fortune. She’d call it “Cowboy,” then sit back and watch the money roll in.
“Mr. Carson,” she returned. “Nice to meet you as well. I’ve treated your daughter, Kyrie in the past. I’m not certain why I need an escort, but let’s get on with it.”
“Are you sure you don’t need—?”
“Anyone to finish transcribing my dictation? Why, thank you, Mrs. Heller. It’s so kind of you to ask.” McKenna poured the sugar on poor, panting Margo. “I shouldn’t be long, but just in case, would you clear my schedule for the rest of the day? Tomorrow’s my day off, so apologize to my patients for me. Thanks, hon. See you in an hour or so. Bye, now.”
Maverick held the door as she marched out of the clinic, intent on grilling him during the five-minute drive to Kelsey’s. “What’s so important I can’t drive myself?”
Beau (In the Company of Snipers Book 18) Page 4
