For a moment, Kendall merely stared at him. Then to her horror, her eyes filled with tears, and she did the one thing she’d always sworn never to do. Not even her stepfather’s fist had moved her to beg for mercy, but she did so now without hesitation. “Please don’t do anything to Graham. This isn’t about him. It’s me you want. Leave him out of this.”
Kittering smiled. “It’s too late. He’s already in it. By the time I’m through with him, you won’t even recognize him. The man you knew will be gone forever.”
Kendall’s blood turned to ice. “What are you going to do to him?”
“I won’t need to lay a finger on him. He’ll do it to himself. The things he’ll do to get you back will destroy him.”
“You don’t know him,” she said.
“You’re wrong. I know exactly who I’m dealing with. And if by some miracle you both come out of this alive…it won’t matter because the Graham Hollister you knew will be dead. And that’ll be on your conscience because you’re the one who brought him into this, not me.”
He stood staring down at her for a moment longer, then turned and left the room. When the door closed behind him, Kendall was once again in darkness. She got up and rushed over to the door, but it was no use. Leo Kittering wouldn’t make the mistake of leaving her cell unlocked. He had too many plans for her. And for Graham.
Kendall walked back over to the bed. She could lie down and close her eyes, make everything around her disappear. She knew how to do that. She’d learned a long time ago how to escape a cruel man’s persecution.
Funny how all those tricks came back now in a time of distress.
But Leo Kittering wasn’t her stepfather. He was a million times worse, and Kendall knew that he would never relent. He blamed her for his son’s death, and now Graham would be made to suffer for her sins.
Unless she could find a way out.
Chapter Seven
Graham finally went to bed just after dawn, but an hour later he was back up. He showered and dressed and got ready for work, but he still wasn’t convinced leaving the house was a good idea.
However, one of the things that Heller had cautioned him about the night before was the necessity of maintaining a normal routine. If Graham started acting strangely or deviated from his usual activities, people around him might start asking questions that could inadvertently put them in harm’s way.
Graham’s main concern in that regard was his assistant, Maggie Scofield. She’d called that morning as soon as she heard about the shooting. Graham hadn’t been prepared to deal with her or anyone else so he’d let the call go to his voicemail.
But even if he stayed home, he wouldn’t be able to put her off for long. Not Maggie. He’d always appreciated her loyalty and devotion to her job, but her doggedness could sometimes try his patience. Nothing got past her, which made her an excellent assistant but not someone he could easily deceive.
She had an uncanny knack for reading his moods, even over the phone. One look at his face and she’d know something was wrong. The very last thing Graham needed was Maggie Scofield playing snoop.
He arrived at the office early—long before anyone else was around—so that he would have time to get settled before he had to face the staff. Hurrying into his office, he closed the door, sat down at his desk and turned on his computer.
Several projects in various stages of design and construction required his attention, but concentrating on anything other than the kidnapping was impossible. He didn’t even go through the motions. Instead, he scoured the Internet for information on Gabriel Esteban and Leo Kittering.
He struck out with Esteban, which didn’t surprise him. The man was undoubtedly using an alias. Graham had a little more luck with Leo Kittering. The name came up twice, both times in conjunction with articles about a racecar driver named L. J. Kittering, who had been killed five years earlier. But his death hadn’t been the result of a racing accident as Graham had expected to find. He’d been murdered, but the details of the crime were sketchy.
Graham read the articles over and over, as if memorizing every word would somehow help him divine Kendall’s whereabouts. But it was no use. He’d gleaned very little information, and he didn’t know how to apply it to what he already knew.
Swiveling in his chair, he stared out the window, a pulse throbbing in his temple. The air was cool in his office, but he suddenly felt clammy with sweat as he tried to make sense of what he’d read.
He thought again about his separation from Kendall, her move to Mexico and the car accident that had nearly taken her life. And as he absently watched the vapor trail of a jet etch the clear sky, he let himself think about the unthinkable.
Had Kendall been involved in L. J. Kittering’s death?
She’d been living in Mexico at the time. According to the FBI, she’d even worked for Kittering’s father, Leo. So she definitely had a connection to the family, but it was a stretch to think she might have had something to do with the son’s murder. Heller said that Leo Kittering operated one of the largest drug cartels in Mexico. It would be far less of a stretch to assume L.J. had been taken out by a rival drug lord.
But, of course, that was nothing but speculation. The result of Graham’s imagination going a little crazy because he didn’t know what the hell was going on.
Absently he massaged the taut muscles at the back of his neck as he tried to remember everything Heller had told him about Leo Kittering.
He was an American who had fled across the border after being charged with serious crimes, including extortion. Over the years, he’d built a drug empire in Mexico and was now virtually untouchable.
But that was something else Graham didn’t understand. If the FBI had known where he was all this time, why hadn’t they had him extradited? Was he so powerful that even the United States government couldn’t touch him?
That a man like Kittering could be behind Kendall’s kidnapping was inconceivable to Graham. How was it that his nice, safe world had suddenly collided with that of a notorious drug lord?
The whole situation still seemed like a bad dream. The shooting, the kidnapping, the home invasion by Gabriel Esteban and his band of thugs. Even the involvement of the FBI. The FBI for God’s sake.
Graham’s only previous run-ins with the law had been speeding and parking tickets, and now, suddenly, his incoming calls were being monitored, his house had been swept for listening devices and he’d been interrogated by a federal agent who seemed to have an agenda other than tracking Kendall’s kidnappers.
Twenty-four hours ago, his biggest worry had been getting everything wrapped up at the office before he and Kendall left on vacation. Now he didn’t know if he would ever see her again.
He scrubbed a hand across his face. His helplessness left him restless, angry and afraid. How the hell had any of this happened? How had his life spiraled so completely out of control in the space of only one day?
Graham still had a hard time accepting the fact that he couldn’t pick up the phone and hear Kendall’s voice. He couldn’t believe that his own family was being watched at that very moment, their lives in danger unless he did exactly as Esteban ordered.
And just who was Gabriel Esteban? Had Kittering hired him to do his dirty work?
Esteban hadn’t struck him as the type who would follow another man’s orders. There was too much macho pride in his eyes, his smile, the way he held himself. Esteban wasn’t the subservient type. So what was his connection to Leo Kittering?
“Graham?”
Startled, Graham whirled to find Maggie standing on the other side of his desk, staring down at him with a puzzled frown. He had no idea how long she’d been there. He’d been so deep in thought he hadn’t heard the door open.
“What’s up?” The casual greeting sounded strained and unnatural. The inflection didn’t go unnoticed by Maggie, whose scowl deepened as she continued to study him.
As always, she was dressed impeccably in a dark suit and starched blouse, even th
ough Graham’s firm was much less formal than her previous employer. But Maggie was old-school and particular about her professional wardrobe. She would never dream of showing up at work in jeans or even khakis. Her nails were always done, her dark hair pulled back out of the way and today a pencil was tucked neatly behind one ear.
She cocked her head. “You okay?”
Graham carefully schooled his expression before he answered. “Sure,” he said with a shrug. “Why do you ask?”
“For one thing, you’ve been holed up in here all morning. That’s not like you. You’re usually going stir-crazy long before now. For another…” She paused. “You look like hell.”
“Long night,” Graham muttered. “I didn’t sleep well.”
“When did you get back? I thought you and Kendall were spending the night in Houston.”
“We decided to come back last night.”
“Well, that explains why I didn’t get an answer at the hotel this morning. I also called your cell phone. You didn’t get my message?”
“No, sorry. Was it something important?”
Absently she straightened a stack of papers on the corner of his desk. “I just wanted to touch base after I heard about the assassination attempt on the news this morning. They said the ambassador was the only one hurt, but I couldn’t help worrying because I knew you were all there last night. Everyone’s okay, right?”
Graham glanced away. “Yeah, everyone’s fine.”
“Were you there when it happened?”
“Yes, but I didn’t see anything,” he said quickly, hoping to head her off.
But no such luck. Maggie was just getting warmed up.
“They said on the news that the police don’t even have a suspect in custody, which means the shooter is still at large. No telling where he is by now.” She kept fiddling with the papers on his desk. “How in the world does someone walk into a crowded room with a gun and shoot an ambassador, of all people? Didn’t he have bodyguards? And why haven’t any witnesses come forward? Someone must have seen something.”
“I don’t know,” Graham said. “All I can tell you is that there were a lot of people at that reception. And no one expected to see something like that.”
“Yes, I’m sure that’s true. Some of the talking heads are saying it could be a conspiracy. Someone in the ambassador’s inner circle could have been in on the plan. Or someone hired by the private firm that supplied security could have been bought off. They think at the very least that the gunman had help getting in and out of the building.”
“No one knows that for sure. We’ll just have to wait and see what the investigation turns up.”
Maggie nodded. “Graham, do you think the shooting had something to do with the ambassador’s connection to PemCo Oil? There’s been trouble brewing ever since they made that deal with Pemex.”
“You’re asking the wrong person. I’m just an architect. World politics is a little out of my league.”
“But don’t you think—”
“Maggie, for God’s sake, give it a rest!” he blurted in frustration. “I already said I don’t know anything about it.”
Her gray eyes mirrored her shock at his outburst. He rarely raised his voice and never to her. “Sure, fine. I was just curious, that’s all.”
“I know you are, but I’m not in the mood to speculate endlessly about what happened. Let’s just let the authorities sort it out.” He paused, drew a deep breath and tried to muster up a half smile. “Sorry I snapped. Short fuse this morning.”
She shrugged, but her gaze was still curious. More so now than before.
“No harm done. You’re entitled to blow every once in a while. Let’s us know you’re human.”
Oh, I’m human, all right. “I appreciate that. Was there something else you wanted?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. I came in to tell you that Michael Barron called a few minutes ago. He’s on his way up.”
“He’s in Austin? Why?”
“He didn’t say, just that he needs to talk to you and I’m not to let you leave until he arrives. What should I tell him when he gets here?”
“Yes, Graham. What do you want her to tell me?” Michael echoed as he breezed into the office.
Maggie lifted a brow at the sudden tension in the room, but Graham merely shrugged.
“Would either of you like some coffee?” she said. “I was just heading downstairs to get some.”
“Not for me,” Michael said. “But thanks anyway.”
“Graham?”
“No, thanks.” He watched warily as Michael took the seat across from his desk. “What are you doing here?”
“Come on, Graham. You know why I’m here. You missed your appointment with Terrence. You were supposed to come by the office and sign the contracts this morning. Or did you forget?”
“There was a change in plans. I came back to Austin last night.”
“I heard. I thought you might be a little distracted this morning so I decided to bring the contracts to you.”
Graham frowned. “Why would you think I’d be distracted?”
“After what happened? I imagine we’re all a little rattled.” Michael set his briefcase on the edge of Graham’s desk and flipped open the latches. “I don’t know about you, but it’s not every day I attend a party where someone gets shot. Much less an ambassador.”
So they were back to that. The assassination attempt was all anyone wanted to talk about. Graham supposed he should be grateful that the focus wasn’t on him. “Maggie says it’s all over the news.”
“You mean you haven’t turned on the TV?” Michael glanced up in surprise. “The feds are all over this thing. They’re interviewing everyone who was there last night, including the wait staff, security, you name it. They already talk to you?”
“Briefly.”
Michael nodded. “CNN had someone on this morning who used to work for the Department of Homeland Security. He thinks it may have been a terrorist attack. This is a big deal, Graham. I’m surprised you don’t seem more interested.”
“Just because I’m not talking about it incessantly doesn’t mean I’m not interested. Some of us have work to do.”
“Or maybe you’ve got something else on your mind.” Michael took out the contracts and slid them across the desk.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m talking about you and Kendall. Something happened last night, didn’t it?”
Graham picked up a pen and toyed with the top for a moment before he realized the nervous tic gave away his agitation. Carefully, he laid the pen aside. “Kendall and I are fine.”
“Then why is she missing?”
Graham froze. “Who told you that?”
“Terrence said you talked to Ellie last night, and you were worried because Kendall left the reception without saying anything. Then she called and wanted to meet you at home, but when you drove back, she wasn’t there. Something is going on, Graham. Why don’t you just save us both a lot of trouble and tell me what it is because I’m not going back to Houston until you do.”
Graham gave him a warning look. “This is none of your business. Just leave it alone.”
“Then something is wrong?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Damn it, Graham.” Michael ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Enough with the stoicism, okay? How the hell am I supposed to help you if you won’t level with me?”
“Did I ask for your help?”
Michael sat back with a heavy sigh. “I knew it. Kendall’s left you again, hasn’t she? That’s why she didn’t want you to know about the money.”
A muscle in Graham’s leg began to twitch. He needed to get up and pace, but he made himself sit completely still. “What money?”
“The hundred thousand she wanted to borrow. Ellie told Terrence and me everything.” At Graham’s look, Michael said quickly, “Now, don’t be mad at her. She’s worried sick about you.”
“I’m n
ot mad. But there’s no need for any of you to worry. As you can see, I’m perfectly fine.” But by this time the muscle in his leg was like a jackhammer. “I’ll sign the contracts and you can hand-deliver them to Terrence yourself.”
“What about Kendall?”
“What about her?”
Michael’s gaze bored into his. “You don’t know where she is, do you?”
Graham glanced down at the contracts. “It’s not what you think. Kendall and I are going to be fine. We just need to be left alone to work this out on our own.”
“Work what out?”
“I’m not going to talk about this with you.”
“Fine, if that’s the way you want it.”
“It is.”
Michael lifted his hands in resignation. “All right. I won’t say anything more about it. Just know this, though. If you need to talk or if you need my help with anything, I’m only a phone call away.”
Graham nodded, his chest heavy with the need to talk. But he didn’t dare. “I appreciate that.”
“One other thing…”
“Yeah?”
Michael’s expression darkened as he leaned forward. “Do you have any idea why the FBI would be coming around asking questions about Kendall?”
Graham couldn’t speak for a moment. His breath was suddenly shallow and rapid, and he felt light-headed. “When did this happen?”
“Earlier this morning. Two agents were in Terrence’s office when I got to work. They were asking a lot of questions that didn’t have anything to do with the shooting. What are they after, Graham?”
Graham tried to stay calm, but worry and stress were taking a toll. And now to find out that the FBI was asking questions behind his back. What the hell were they up to?
“Graham?”
His gaze shot up. Michael was watching him intently. “I have no idea,” he said truthfully. “It was probably just a routine follow-up after the shooting. Like you said, they’re interviewing everyone who was at the reception last night.”
Texas Ransom Page 10
