Texas Ransom

by Amanda Stevens

  No matter how much he wanted to believe it was all a con, Graham knew the worst mistake he could make was to underestimate Gabriel Esteban. He’d seen the man’s eyes. It wasn’t hard to imagine that he was a cold-blooded killer who would do whatever it took to get what he wanted.

  Graham turned slowly, scouring his surroundings. Then his gaze went back to the house. Even if Esteban didn’t have anyone watching the place, the phone line could be tapped. He’d know if Graham made an outside call. His cell phone wasn’t safe, either. Intercepting transmissions was a lot more difficult these days, but not impossible, nor was hacking into his e-mail account. The darkness in which he stood was nothing more than an illusion of cover, Graham realized. He was trapped, a prisoner in his own home.

  His helplessness fueled his anger. His wife had been kidnapped, his family was in danger and he could do nothing but wait for Esteban’s call. The man had him where he wanted him. Graham was doing precisely what Esteban would expect him to do.

  And then it hit him. He’d been targeted for a reason. His personal wealth had been a factor, of course, but something else was at play here. Graham was a quiet, introspective man, not the type who would be expected to resort to physical retaliation. He would undoubtedly strike a man like Gabriel Esteban as being weak and controllable. An easy mark. A man who would do exactly as he was told.

  The rage twisted in Graham’s gut like a red-hot poker. The night was mild, but beneath his tux, he was sweating and he stripped off his jacket, tossing it onto a lounger as he walked across the pool deck and headed for the house.

  A few minutes later, he came back out, this time dressed in jeans, a dark shirt and sneakers. Myron was sitting in the courtyard cleaning a front paw. He cried for some attention, but all Graham had time to do was give him a brief pat on the head as he let him in. Besides, it was Kendall that Myron wanted, not Graham.

  He’d left Esteban’s phone inside the house. As long as it was turned on and in his possession, he could be tracked. But leaving it behind could be even more dangerous. If Esteban called and Graham didn’t answer, the second rule would be broken. He was taking a terrible risk with his family’s safety, but if Esteban had targeted Graham because he thought he could control him, his arrogance might lead him to believe that his rules wouldn’t be challenged.

  It was a gamble and the stakes couldn’t have been higher, but Graham could no longer sit around impotently weighing his options. He needed to act quickly in order to catch Esteban off guard.

  Graham hurried through the darkness, hitting the path to the creek at some point just beyond the pool. As he neared the rushing water, he turned right, cutting through the wooded grounds to the fence that surrounded his property.

  Half a mile down the road was a convenience store and gas station that he sometimes stopped at for coffee and to fill up on his way into work in the mornings. There were pay phones outside the store. Most everyone used cell phones these days, so whether any of them still worked, he had no idea. But he would find out soon enough.

  Driving to the store would have saved precious time, but if Esteban had left surveillance behind, the car would be spotted before it ever left the premises. Graham would be followed and within a matter of minutes, Esteban would know that he had made outside contact.

  Graham was besieged by second thoughts. Was he doing the right thing? He couldn’t know, of course. He’d never faced anything remotely like the situation in which he now found himself. And Esteban was counting on that.

  But even if he followed the rules, if he sat back and did nothing until Esteban called, how could he be sure the man would keep his word? That his family would be safe and Kendall would be freed?

  Once Esteban had the money, he could simply disappear across the border and she would be at his mercy. He would get away with it, too, so long as he had Graham’s cooperation. He was banking on that, too, and on Graham’s desperation to protect his family.

  He was desperate. But he also knew that it would be stupid and naive to try and go this alone. He had to have help and the sooner the better.

  FIVE MINUTES later he had the convenience store in sight. He stayed in the shadows and watched the road for several seconds before crossing to the other side.

  It occurred to him as he sprinted across the lighted parking lot that if Esteban was as intent on watching his every move as he’d said, he might have the convenience store staked out. The proximity to Graham’s house made it the logical place for him to try and contact the authorities without anyone’s knowledge.

  But it was a little too late to turn back now. Graham had made up his mind, and as he approached the nearest phone and lifted the receiver to check for a dial tone, he turned slightly so that he could scan the parking lot and road behind him. The area looked deserted, and from where he stood, he could also see inside the store. The clerk sat behind the counter reading a book and didn’t look up. If anyone else was about, he was too well-hidden for Graham to detect.

  Fishing Delacourt’s card from his pocket along with his credit card, Graham quickly placed the call, turning now to shield his face from the road.

  The phone rang twice before it engaged on the other end.

  “Delacourt.” It was after two o’clock in the morning, but the special agent sounded as fresh and alert as if it were mid-day.

  “This is Graham Hollister. We spoke earlier in Houston. I’m the architect—”

  “I know who you are, Mr. Hollister. I assume the reason you’re calling at this hour is because you’ve remembered something.”

  Graham wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow with his forearm. “That’s not why I’m calling. I need your help with something.”

  “I’m listening.” Delacourt spoke in a deliberate tone. He gave away nothing of what he might be thinking.

  “I’m in trouble,” Graham blurted as his heart hammered against his chest.

  Delacourt’s hesitation was almost infinitesimal. “What kind of trouble?”

  For a moment, as Graham’s chest threatened to crack, he couldn’t say a word. Emotion welled in his throat and he felt as if he’d been hit head-on by a speeding bus.

  “Mr. Hollister?”

  “I’m still here.” He cleared his throat and mopped his face. “What I’m about to tell you…” He ran out of words again, this time not so much from shock and nerves, but because he literally didn’t know where or how to start. It still seemed unreal to him; the danger hanging over his family nothing more than a remnant of a terrible nightmare.

  But it was real. And until he found a way to stop a madman, everyone he cared about remained vulnerable.

  “Earlier tonight four armed men broke into my home in Austin. They told me they’ve kidnapped my wife and unless I do exactly as they say, I’ll never see her again.”

  “How long ago did this happen?” Delacourt’s voice altered only slightly, but Graham knew the agent was now listening intently to his every word.

  “About an hour ago. Maybe a little longer. I think they’re still watching my house to make sure I don’t go to the police. That’s why I’m using a pay phone. I was afraid they could monitor my landline and cell phone.”

  “How long since you’ve seen your wife?”

  “Since she left the reception earlier tonight.”

  “But you said you talked to her on the phone.”

  “I did, but I think they had her even then. She said some things that didn’t make sense. I think she was under duress.”

  “So the threat seems credible to you.”

  Graham squeezed his eyes closed. “Yes. I was told that she’s being taken out of the country and unless I do as I’m told, she’ll be sold to the highest bidder. I was also given a list of rules and for every one I break, someone in my family will die…” He trailed off, the impact of his decision to call in the authorities hitting him full force. He started to tremble. “If they find out I’ve called you—”

  “Just take it easy. You did the right thing. Too many p
eople make the mistake of not bringing us in soon enough. Those cases almost never end well. You did the right thing,” Delacourt stressed. “Now tell me the rest.”

  Graham wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “He showed me photographs of my mother and grandmother, my brother and his family…all of them taken within the last few hours. They were somehow able to get that close. They even had a shot of my five-year-old niece taken through her bedroom window.” He felt sick to his stomach when he thought about how close they’d been to Caitlin. What kind of man would threaten an innocent child?

  The answer was obvious and devastating. A cold, brutal psychopath, a man without a shred of remorse or conscience.

  “You must see this sort of thing all the time.” Graham leaned his forehead against the kiosk. “Do you think it’s at all possible this could be one big bluff? Maybe they just wanted to frighten me so that I’d give them what they want.”

  The FBI agent took his time answering, and his silence filled Graham with dread. But it was what he already knew in his heart to be true. He’d been grasping at straws, hoping against hope that his family was in no real danger. But that wasn’t the case.

  “Anytime there’s a ransom demand with death threats, we have to go on the assumption that the kidnappers mean what they say. What did they ask for?”

  “Nothing specific yet. I was given a phone and told to keep it with me at all times. They’d be in touch.”

  “Do you have the phone with you now?”

  Graham hesitated, wondering what Delacourt would think of his decision to leave it behind. “No.”

  “Good. As long as it’s turned on, they can track you.”

  “I know that. But I can’t stay away much longer. I have to get back in case he calls.”

  “I understand, but I’m going to need a few more details. You said the demands weren’t specific. What did you mean by that?”

  “Just what I said. I was told there would be several ransom drops, each to be arranged at a future time, and there would be other things they would need from me besides money.”

  “What can you tell me about the ringleader, the guy who did all the talking? Can you give me a description?”

  “I can do better than that. I can tell you his name. Gabriel Esteban. He’s tall. I’d say at least six feet and thin, wiry. Well-dressed and well-spoken. He’s probably in his late forties to early fifties, and he has acne scars on his face. He spoke with an accent. I think it was Mexican.”

  “I doubt that he gave you his real name,” Delacourt said. “And I doubt that we’ll find anyone meeting his description on our watch list. The fact that he let you see him so clearly means he’s not afraid of being identified.”

  “I thought it meant that he plans to kill me,” Graham said.

  “We’ll do everything in our power to make sure that doesn’t happen,” Delacourt said. “What about the others?”

  “They all wore ski masks.”

  “Which means they were concerned about being identified,” the agent mused. “Tell me exactly when you last saw your wife.”

  Graham glanced over his shoulder. The road was still clear behind him. “I already told you, it was at the reception. I saw her speak to someone when she came in to the room. A man. The next time I saw her she was at the door.”

  Delacourt’s voice sharpened. “You didn’t mention this man earlier when we spoke.”

  “I didn’t think it was important. As I said, I saw her leave the room. She didn’t look frightened. I had no reason to believe she wasn’t leaving of her own accord.”

  “Did you recognize the man she spoke to?”

  “No. I’d never seen him before. But I think Kendall knew him. I think he somehow coerced her into leaving the reception and then Esteban’s men grabbed her outside the building.”

  “Can you describe this guy?”

  “Hispanic. Tall and thin like Esteban, but younger. My age maybe. Mid-thirties.”

  “It would have been helpful if you’d told us about him earlier. I’m still wondering why you didn’t.”

  Desperation seeped into Graham’s voice. “Look, I thought this was something personal. I didn’t see a need to bring it up. I had no way of knowing my wife was about to be kidnapped.”

  “Tell me about the phone call you received. You said she sounded under duress.”

  “She asked me to meet her at home, in Austin. I thought it was strange because we’d planned to spend the night in Houston. Now I realize that someone told her what to say.” A car went by without slowing. Graham turned to watch the taillights.

  “Which probably means they were in a hurry to get out of Houston. They felt safer dealing with you in Austin.”

  “Do you think my wife’s kidnapping is connected to the shooting?”

  “The timing is suspicious. And demands other than monetary are not the sort of thing we hear in kidnappings for ransom.”

  Graham’s hand tightened on the phone. What the hell was going on here? How had he and Kendall become enmeshed in an assassination attempt? It didn’t make sense. Nothing that had happened in the last several hours made any sense.

  He drew a long breath. “Look, whether they’re connected or not…I need you to help me get my wife back. I need you to find Gabriel Esteban before he hurts my family.”

  “We can put your family under surveillance,” Delacourt said. “They’ll be protected. We have agents who are expert in dealing with kidnappings and hostage situations. I’ll need to send a team up to see you as soon as I can arrange it.”

  “You said we have to go on the assumption that Esteban means what he says. He said that my house would be under surveillance, my every move watched by his men. If strange cars start pulling up in my driveway, he’ll know that I’ve called the authorities.”

  “We know how to handle these kinds of situations.”

  “How?”

  “You’ll just have to trust me.”

  “That’s not good enough,” Graham said as he shot another look toward the street. “I’ve thought of something that might work. Esteban’s men broke through glass doors to enter my home. He mentioned when he left that I should get them fixed. To keep out the coyotes, he said. Maybe you could somehow use that as a cover.”

  Graham had expected Delacourt to scoff at the idea, to tell him he’d been watching too many James Bond movies. But instead, the agent said tersely, “Hold on.”

  A few seconds later, Delacourt was back on the line. “When you get back home, call Hill Country Windows and Doors on IH35. They have a twenty-four-hour emergency service. Ask them to come within the hour.”

  “What if they can’t make it that soon?”

  “They will. I’ll arrange everything from this end. All you need to do is make the call. And Mr. Hollister?”

  “Yes?”

  “Try to stay calm. I know this is a difficult situation, but you did the right thing by calling us in. The FBI has a very successful recovery rate in kidnappings for ransom.”

  “And if this is no ordinary kidnapping for ransom?”

  “Let’s take it one step at a time.”

  Graham’s hands were still shaking as he hung up, and in spite of Delacourt’s words of encouragement, he could no longer fight the terror crawling through his veins.

  Esteban wanted something besides money. And in order to free Kendall and keep the rest of his family safe, Graham would have to meet his demands.

  No matter what he had to do.

  LESS THAN an hour later, a white panel van with the glass company’s logo on the side pulled up in front of the house. A man dressed in jeans and a baseball cap got out and came to the door. He played it so straight that Graham had no idea if he was a federal agent or a glass repairman.

  He instructed the man to pull the van around back between the courtyard and pool where they would have easy access to the broken doors. The walled courtyard would also serve as a screen to hide them from anyone watching the house.

  Graham stood i
n the courtyard as five men piled out of the van and began to unload the equipment. One of them approached him and motioned for him to follow him over to the van. They stood at the back, pretending to examine the new set of doors.

  “I’m Special Agent Dean Heller.” He was a young-looking guy, about Graham’s age, with short, blond hair and a pleasant, angular face. He didn’t fit the stereotypical image of a federal agent, nor did his easygoing demeanor inspire the kind of confidence Graham had been hoping for.

  “The man in the baseball cap is Special Agent Andy Pinson. He and Agent Jones—the tall guy—are here to sweep for bugs and wire taps, that sort of thing. You’ll need to show them around, let them get a feel for the place. When we’re through, Agent Jones will stay behind to monitor the operation from this end.” Casually, he pointed to something inside the van. “The other two guys are here to fix your doors. Any questions?”

  Graham had plenty of those. “What happens if your men find something?”

  The agent leaned into the van and adjusted a piece of equipment. “That’s something we need to talk about right now. If we find and remove any listening devices, they’ll know—at the very least—that you’ve brought someone in to sweep for bugs. But leaving the damn things in place can also be risky because they’ll hear everything that is said and done inside your house. That means you can’t slip. You may be tempted to ask Jones a question or say something to him without thinking. You can’t do that. You’ll have to act as if you’re alone, and that can be a lot harder than it sounds. One mistake and they’re onto us.”

  “I don’t see how we have a choice,” Graham said. “If we remove the bugs, Esteban could retaliate against my family.”

  “We’re taking care of your family. We’ll have them watched around the clock.”

  But Graham was worried. Very worried. However, his initial assessment of Heller was changing. He appreciated the fact that the agent had immediately brought him into the operation and asked for his opinion rather than keeping him in the dark.