“Good. You’re home.” Priscilla’s voice broke, the only sign of her distress. If Taylor hadn’t shared everything, he’d never know by looking at Priscilla that something was wrong. He noticed the same about Taylor. Throughout the ride, he’d expected Taylor to break down. To cry or yell. She’d remained dry-eyed and in control the whole time. It appeared as though Priscilla shared her daughter’s strength.
Priscilla quickly made introductions.
“Anything yet?” Taylor asked.
“No,” Priscilla answered. She reached up and covered Mr. McIntyre’s hand with hers. “Not yet.” The small gesture made him wonder if Mr. McIntyre was more than a family friend.
Smack. The sound of flesh coming down hard on wood filled the room. He saw Priscilla jump. Whatever leash Taylor had on her emotions was coming undone.
“What the hell is being done? Eliza has no money. No resources. And let’s face it, she’s not smart. How far could she have gone?” With each word Taylor’s voice grew louder, more evidence the stress was wearing down her control.
Curt rested his hands on her shoulders, her skin ice-cold beneath his palms. Wanting to offer some comfort, even if it meant simply keeping her warm, he took off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders.
“Miss Walker, believe me, we’re following every lead we get,” one of the FBI agents answered. He proceeded to explain each step they’d taken so far and answered every question Taylor threw at him. “We’ve also been contacted by Elite Force Security. My supervisor informed me they’re assisting with the investigation.”
“Eliza won’t harm Reese,” Priscilla said. Her unspoken words hung over the table. Eliza wouldn’t intentionally harm Reese, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t do something that would put her in danger. Considering the woman had a history of drug abuse, anything could happen before the authorities located them and brought Reese home.
***
Taylor reached the bookcase, turned, and walked back. How was it possible less than six hours had passed since Mom called her? “This is—”
“It’s not your fault.” Curt didn’t let her finish. “Priscilla blamed herself when you were upstairs. And it’s not her fault either. Neither of you could’ve known Eliza would do this.”
He’d only left her side once since they returned home, to change his clothes. She appreciated his presence more than she could ever tell him.
“I don’t get it. What is my stupid sister thinking?” None of it made sense. Since giving up custody, Eliza acted like she’d never given birth to a child. So why all of sudden did she disappear with Reese? What had changed? What did she want?
Taylor gave up on pacing. Maybe sitting in one place would help her figure out her sister’s motivation.
“She did come around a few times. Is it possible she wants to be involved in Reese’s life again?” Curt asked. “Could this be Eliza’s way of doing that, because she thought you wouldn’t let her spend time with Reese?”
She’d considered and immediately dismissed the same thought earlier. Whatever ideas prompted Eliza’s actions today, being a loving mom had nothing to do with them. “No. Even before I became Reese’s guardian, Eliza wasn’t interested in being a mother. She left Reese with Mom or me every chance she got. She did this for some other reason. I just can’t figure out what.”
Taylor heard the house phone ring. No one ever called the landline anymore. They’d even considered getting rid of it rather than pay for something they never used. Let that be Eliza or Reese. Please.
Mom got to the phone before she did. “Please let me talk to Reese,” Mom said, her voice shaking. “Just to say hello, so I know she’s okay. I’m her grandmother. I need to know she’s okay.”
Taylor stood near the kitchen table and wished she could hear both sides of the conversation.
“Then let me talk to Eliza. Is she there?” Mom asked in desperation.
Great. Reese wasn’t only with Eliza, but also whatever scumbag Eliza spent time with these days. But why wasn’t Eliza calling herself? Had something happened to her since leaving the pottery studio with Reese? Had Eliza left Reese with someone? A friend even more screwed up than her?
The color drained from Mom’s face. “Yes, I understand, but….”
Taylor gripped the edge of the table.
“I don’t….” Again, whatever Mom intended got cut off by the scumbag on phone. “Okay. She’s here.” She passed the phone to Taylor. “He wants to talk to you.” Mom covered her face with one hand, and Mr. McIntyre reached for the other. He’d been there since Taylor came home, constantly offering Mom reassuring words or holding her hand.
Across the room, one of the FBI agents sat with headphones on so he could hear both sides of the telephone conversation. He met Taylor’s eyes and nodded.
She cleared her throat and licked her bottom lip, her mouth suddenly dry. “Hello. Who is this?” Taylor demanded. She wouldn’t let the caller or Eliza know the toll this was taking on her.
“A friend of your sister,” a male voice answered. “And if you want your niece back, Taylor, you’ll do what I say.”
She pushed aside her anger and hatred. Neither would do any good at the moment. She’d let both emotions have free rein when her sister and this jerk were tracked down and arrested. “I’m listening, but I want to talk to my niece.” She heard loud music in the background, but nothing else to help pinpoint what type of place he called from.
“You only need to listen. It’s easy. Get us a million dollars, and we’ll give you Reese. Don’t, and she stays with us.”
She’d seen people do unspeakable things, first as a police officer and then a DEA agent, but she never thought Eliza would kidnap and ransom her daughter.
“There is no way I can get you that much money. My sister knows it’s not possible. Let me talk to her.”
A sick laugh assaulted her ears. “Eliza and I know you’re fucking Curt Sherbrooke. We think you should share your good luck. Go ask him for it. He won’t miss it. I’ll call you back.”
The line went dead.
She let the scumbag’s words sink in. Money. This was all about money.
“What did he say?” Curt asked.
“They want money in exchange for Reese.”
Mom nodded, and she wiped a tear from her face. “Okay. How much? The bank is closed until Monday, but maybe if we contact the branch manager and explain they’ll open up. I’ll clean out my accounts.”
Even if they both cleaned out all their accounts and Reese’s college fund, they’d never have enough.
“One million.”
Whatever strength Mom had relied on so far today gave out. Sobs wracked her body and tears fell uncontrollably down her face. Before Taylor could attempt to comfort her, Mr. McIntyre wrapped his arms around her.
“But… that makes no sense,” Mom said between her sobs. “I’m not surprised they want money. But one million! That’s crazy.”
Grinding her teeth, she pulled on whatever reserves of strength she had left. For both Mom’s and Reese’s sakes, she had to keep it together. After, when they had Reese home safe, she could fall apart. “He’ll call back.”
“How can Eliza do this? She knows we don’t have anything close to a million dollars. It doesn’t make any sense,” Mom said, her voice almost a shout.
Considering everything else, it was the only part that did make sense. “Somehow they know Curt Sherbrooke lives next door. They also know I’m in a relationship with him.” No need to repeat the crude language the caller used. “They’re hoping we can get the money from him.” She’d think about how Eliza had learned Curt’s identity some other time. Mom wouldn’t have shared it with her, and Reese didn’t comprehend the significance of who he was.
“When and where?” Curt asked without a word from her. He already had his cell phone out. “It’ll take a little time for me to get a million in cash.”
Taylor doubted Eliza and her boyfriend, or whoever the scumbag was, would want anyth
ing but cash. A wire transfer to a bank required the receiving party to have an account. Drug addicts who kidnapped children didn’t seem likely to have an account at the local bank. And no one simply walked into a bank, cashed a million-dollar check, and walked back out with a briefcase full of hundred-dollar bills without calling attention their way.
“He didn’t say. All he gave was the dollar amount,” she answered.
“Mr. Sherbrooke, before you agree to meet the—” the agent who had listened to the entire phone conversation began.
“Agent Torre, I’ll do what I need to.” He reached across and squeezed Mom’s hand before he took hers. “Don’t worry. We’ll get her back.” Curt called whatever contact he pulled up and walked away.
I hope. Paying Eliza and her boyfriend didn’t guarantee they’d get Reese back. Everyone there, even Mom, knew it.
***
The backyard light let her see Curt standing on the patio while he talked to his cousin. Taylor didn’t blame him for taking a break and going outside. The tension inside had become a tangible thing, weighing on them all, making her anxious and worried one moment and angry as hell the next. She’d thought about escaping the house and tension off and on all day by getting in her car and searching for Reese and Eliza herself. The fact Eliza’s boyfriend hadn’t called back yet was all that kept her from putting her plan into action. He’d insisted on talking to her and not Mom the first time. When he called again, it made sense he’d do the same thing. She couldn’t afford to miss his call.
“You look exhausted. Maybe you should try to get some sleep,” Mom said, coming back into the kitchen alone.
“I think you need it more than me. Did Mr. McIntyre leave?”
“He’ll be right back. He needs to let Petey out. The poor dog has been inside all day. I’m making some tea. Do you want some?”
She didn’t remember the last time she’d had anything to drink. “Sure.” Outside, Curt started pacing; she wondered how much he was sharing with whatever cousin had called him.
“How do you think Eliza learned Curt was a Sherbrooke?” The car with the mismatched door that she saw pass Curt’s house the day Trent made his surprise visit had to be the same one that dropped Eliza off the last time she came over. Eliza and her boyfriend would’ve seen Trent’s expensive sports car parked in the driveway, but there was no way for them to link it back to a Sherbrooke.
Mom filled the teapot, the one Reese had picked out as a gift one Mother’s Day, and put it on the stove. “Maybe after Reese told Eliza about her trip to Newport she got curious. She could’ve gone to the town hall and asked who owned the house next door. Sonia Anne works in the town clerk’s office. She and Eliza were friends in high school. She might have helped her out. There’s also a database on the town website. If you put in any address in town, it’ll tell you who owns the property. Curt’s full legal name would’ve come up.”
“Yeah, but would she have thought to do any of that?” Her sister spent much of her time either high or looking to get high. Could she carry out a plan like Mom theorized?
The teapot whistled behind her. “Maybe.” Mom poured the hot water into two large mugs. “Or her boyfriend may have known to check with the town hall.” She added sugar to both mugs before bringing them over. “I think this whole thing was his idea. Eliza wouldn’t do this on her own. Not to her daughter. Her boyfriend put her up to it.”
Maybe at one time she would’ve agreed, but the woman who'd dropped in weeks ago wasn’t the person Taylor had grown up with.
“I have to believe that,” Mom said softly.
If thinking Eliza’s boyfriend forced her to kidnap Reese helped Mom get through this situation, she’d let her believe it. Convincing her otherwise didn’t change the facts or bring Reese home any sooner.
The door from the backyard slid open, and Curt walked inside. “Jake wanted me to tell you hello. He called to see how everything was and ask if he could help.”
Had Jake overheard her in the library? She’d tried to keep her voice as low as possible. And Curt had merely told Jake they had to leave because of an emergency.
“Does he know what’s going on?” Taylor asked. She’d rather Curt’s entire family not know all the details.
At the stove, Curt made himself a cup of tea. She hadn’t seen him eat or drink anything in hours either. “No. He knows you have a family emergency. He doesn’t know the specifics. I didn’t think it was any of his business.”
The cordless phone on the counter rang, and every set of eyes locked on it.
Like earlier, Agent Torre slipped on headphones and gave her a thumbs-up.
“Hello,” Taylor said, in a clear controlled voice.
“Do you have our money?” Eliza, not the scumbag from earlier, asked.
Her sister’s voice gave her pause. Could she reason with Eliza? Get her to bring Reese home tonight? Maybe when hell freezes over. Mom might put all the blame on Eliza’s boyfriend, but she didn’t buy it. Eliza had played a role in what happened today.
“Let me talk to Reese,” Taylor said. She needed to hear her niece’s voice more than she needed air. Eliza might at least give her that. “I need to know she’s okay, Eliza. You can understand that.”
Taylor heard what sounded like music in the background, then nothing. Did Eliza hang up?
“Auntie Taylor.” Reese’s voice knocked the breath out of her. “I want to come home.”
Her throat closed up, and she couldn’t speak at first. “Are you okay?” Reese didn’t sound scared, merely bored. The last thing she wanted to do was scare her.
“I’m bored and I want Peanut. I miss you and Mimi. Eliza says Mimi is sick and I can’t come home until she’s better. Is she better yet? It smells funny here. I don’t like it.”
Maybe if she kept Reese on the phone long enough, she’d get some useful clues about her whereabouts. “Don’t worry, Mimi is okay. Do you know where you are? I’ll come and—”
“You talked. Do you have what I want?” a man’s voice came on the phone, cutting off her sentence.
Damn. She didn’t get to tell Reese she loved her. “We’re working on it. No one keeps that much money hanging around their house.”
“I want it by Monday. Meet Eliza outside Faneuil Hall with the money.”
“Will Reese be with her?”
“Be there at ten and come alone. No police.”
Chapter Seventeen
Thud. Curt’s head hit the end table, the sudden impact waking him. He blinked and took in his surroundings. He sat on the sofa in the Walkers’ living room. Taylor leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, sound asleep. Priscilla slept in the chair across from him. Her head was tipped back and her mouth slightly open, while Stripes slept curled up in her lap.
He lifted his head as the events of the past day and night rushed back. Eliza and her boyfriend had Reese and were demanding money. How long had it been since the two assholes contacted them? Had the authorities made any progress in finding them? What about the security firm’s HRT, hostile response team? Honestly, he had more faith in them than anyone else working the case. Unlike the police and FBI, the members of the HRT didn’t have to follow a strict chain of command. The firm gave them a lot of leeway when handling situations in the field.
Against him Taylor moved, the comforting warmth of her body disappearing. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. What time is it?” Sleep clung to her voice. He knew she needed more rest but would never willingly take it.
He checked his watch. “Almost four.” They’d been out for two hours. Curt rolled his head, his neck stiff from sleeping in an upright position.
Taylor yawned and stretched her arms over her head. “I should be out there doing something. Not sitting here and napping,” she said with annoyance. “Poor Reese probably cried herself to sleep. She hates not having Peanut at bedtime. She cries if she has to go to bed without him.”
“Reese will be okay.” He kept telling himself the same thing. “Forcing yourself t
o stay awake won’t help. I just woke up, too.” He reached over and rubbed her neck. Considering her sleeping position, she probably had a stiff neck as well. “Even your Mom is catching a nap.”
“That’s different.”
She sounded angry with herself. He’d tried convincing her earlier the situation wasn’t her fault. His argument then had fallen on deaf ears. If he tried now it probably would, too, but he’d give it a try.
“Why? And don’t say because this is your fault. It’s not.”
“Mom works in a library. She doesn’t deal with people like my sister and her scumbag boyfriend every day. I do.” She moved away toward the edge of the sofa and turned back to look at him. “I know the types of places they use. I should be out searching for them, not waiting for the phone to ring.”
He understood her sense of helplessness. The same one filled him. Running around aimlessly wouldn’t help Reese or the authorities. “Taylor, I know you’re frustrated. I am, too, but we don’t know where to start. They might not even still be in New Hampshire.” Massachusetts was only a short ten-minute drive away. Parts of Maine could be reached in less than an hour, too.
“It doesn’t matter. I can’t sit here.”
When she stood, he knew he’d lost the battle, but he wouldn’t let her go off alone. “I’ll come—”
Taylor’s cell phone on the end table rang, and a cold fist punched through his chest and grabbed his heart. The authorities wouldn’t give bad news over the phone, he reminded himself, passing the device to her. Bad news, they’d deliver in person.
She answered the call, and before she finished her greeting his cell phone rang. Two calls so close together couldn’t be a coincidence. He checked the screen. Eric Coleman.
Curt skipped a greeting. Considering the circumstances, the firm’s director would understand. “Eric, tell me you have good news.”
“HRT found her.”
Elite Force Security wasn’t cheap, but it never disappointed. He’d been right to call them.
“Connor, the team leader, is coordinating with the police and FBI. Once they have a plan, they’ll go in and get her,” the firm’s director explained.
The Billionaire Next Door (The Sherbrookes of Newport Book 10) Page 18
