DOMINIC (Dragon Security Book 3)

by Glenna Sinclair

  “Nothing,” I said.

  Killian moved up behind me, towering over me as he, too, looked around. Then he gestured at some footprints visible in some dirt on the floor.

  Someone had been here recently.

  We followed them to the stairs at the back of the massive room, climbing to the office that once overlooked a working warehouse. It was mostly empty now, just a low wooden desk left in one corner. I pushed open the door and it appeared empty. But then there was a low scrapping sound that made me slip my finger onto the trigger of my gun.

  “Who’s there? You’d better come out!”

  The scraping sound came again and a low mumble, like someone trying to speak through a gag. I gestured to Killian. He carefully moved around the desk, his gun drawn. Then he dropped to his knees, coming up a second later with Conor McCloud, his hands tied behind his back with cable ties and his mouth covered with what looked like duct tape.

  “What the hell?”

  Killian shook his head in disapproval as he ripped the tape from the boy’s mouth.

  “Shit!” Conor cried after he spit out a piece of cloth. “That fucking hurt!”

  “Yeah, well, you’re going to hurt even worse if you don’t explain yourself quickly!”

  Conor looked at me, respect suddenly washing over his expression as he recognized me. “Sorry, Mr. Callahan,” he said softly. “I didn’t realize.”

  “Start talking.”

  He stared down at the floor for a second, clearly embarrassed.

  “I was checking the warehouse like Johnny told me to. I was about to leave and someone hit me from behind. The next thing I know, I’m waking up in here under that desk.”

  “Did you see who hit you?”

  “No, sir.”

  Killian caught my eye and nodded. He’d seen dried blood on the back of the kid’s head.

  I turned and looked down at the warehouse, trying to see something that would tell me who’d been in here.

  “The place was locked when you arrived?”

  “As always.”

  “Did you lock it behind you when you came inside?”

  The kid didn’t answer and that told me what I wanted to know. Someone was watching the place, saw him come inside, and followed. But who? And why?

  “It was locked when we got here.”

  “Whoever it was must have locked up behind himself.”

  “Why?”

  Again, silence. I turned and studied the boy. He was a typical kid, dressed in skin-tight jeans that made his legs look like sticks—really unattractive if you asked me. And his t-shirt was an advertisement for a soda brand that was no longer sold. There was a tear on his shoulder and a touch of something that looked like dried blood. I went to him, touched the spot. Not blood. Bright red paint.

  “Was this here when you came into the warehouse?”

  The kid twisted his neck to look at what I was indicating.

  “No, sir. This shirt is vintage. I take really good care of it. I can’t believe he tore it!”

  “Get him out of here,” I said to Killian.

  “Thank you, sir. I’ve been here forever. I don’t think I’ve eaten in days.”

  “How long?” I asked, as Killian was about to shove him out the door.

  The kid turned to regard me. “I can’t be sure how long, but I now it was Tuesday night when I came here.”

  “Tuesday.”

  I shook my head. He’d been here almost forty-eight hours.

  I walked around the office after they left, looking for any more of the red paint. There wasn’t any, so I headed down the stairs, walking slowly around the perimeter of the warehouse, looking at the floor with something different in mind this time. I wasn’t looking for danger, but for some indication of why Conor’s attacker would have paint on his hands. Was he just some kid painting graffiti on the side of the building? Or was there something more nefarious about the whole thing?

  It took a moment, but then I saw it. Little drips of red paint on the floor. It led to a small room at the back of the warehouse that was once bathrooms for the employees. Inside the women’s bathroom the toilets and sinks had been removed. But the mirrors were still there. Reflected in them was a message that was written in blood-red paint across the back wall.

  Say goodbye to what’s precious to you, Brian Callahan.

  It didn’t get any more personal than that.

  “Cassidy.”

  I turned just in time to walk straight into Killian’s chest.

  “Who is this, Pops?” he asked, anger dripping from his tone. “Who’s doing this?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m guessing they’re going after the women in my life. Why else put this in the women’s bathroom?”

  “Stacy?”

  I nodded. “I’m going to ask you a huge favor. I need you to go to New York and watch over her. Don’t let her know you’re there, or she’ll find ways to avoid you.”

  “I know.”

  “Make sure no one touches her, Killian.” I grabbed his arm as he turned to go. “Don’t let anything happen to her.”

  “I won’t, Pops.”

  I turned back to the message as Killian’s footsteps receded through the building. I couldn’t let it stay there. If Jack saw this…I had to get rid of it.

  I searched through the warehouse, tugging my cellphone out of my pocket to call Cassidy. She didn’t answer the first time, so I dialed again, mumbling to myself as I searched through some junk left behind in the warehouse. I found a scraping knife that I thought would work. When Cassidy didn’t answer on the third call, I began to worry.

  “Ian, go to the house and make sure Cassidy’s okay.”

  “Pops—”

  “Don’t argue with me, Ian. I’ll explain later.”

  I worked quickly. The paint was thick and fresh, so it peeled off fairly easily. By the time I was done, there were marks left, but you couldn’t tell what it once said. I was sitting in my car, wiping drywall dust and paint chips off my fingers when Ian called.

  “She’s not here.”

  “What do you mean she’s not there?”

  “She’s gone, Pops. I searched the entire house. Twice.”

  “You looked in the bedroom? The bathroom?”

  “Of course.” There was a slight hesitation. “It looks like she took a shower and then left in a hurry. Her clothes are just piled on the floor and there’s a wet towel…”

  “Does it look like there was a struggle?”

  “No. Just that she left in a hurry.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  I couldn’t think of anything but getting to Cassidy as I rushed through the busy Boston streets. Why did it always have to take so long to get from one place to the other? I gripped the steering wheel so hard I might have broken it if I’d been there a moment longer. But I finally pulled into the driveway and slid to a stop. I jumped out before the car was braked for more than a few seconds.

  Ian was waiting at the front door.

  “Are you sure…?”

  “She’s gone, Pops.”

  “Have you tried her phone?”

  Ian held it up, the small, blue iPhone I’d bought for Cassidy just a day ago.

  She’d left it behind.

  “There’s a text message.”

  Ian pulled it up and held it up for me.

  “She’s on her way to California.”

  “I checked the airlines. There was a flight that left ten minutes ago from Logan.”

  “Call the pilot.”

  I spun on my heel, but Ian caught my arm.

  “You shouldn’t go, Pops. Let me go.”

  I shook my head. “I need to do this.”

  “But this is what they want. Don’t you see? They want you to come running to her rescue so that they can trap you.”

  “No, they want me to watch the people I care about die, one by one. They won’t hurt me.”

  Ian studied my face, his eyes narrowed. “At least let me come with you.”
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  I nodded grudgingly. He followed me out to the car and we spun out, rushing back across town to the private airstrip where the plane was kept. Killian had already called and arranged a flight to New York, so the pilots had to quickly refile their flight plan. But everyone was willing and ready by the time we arrived.

  I explained to Ian what we’d found at the warehouse on the way.

  “It is personal.”

  “Looks like it.”

  “But who would want to hurt you?”

  I glanced at him, a chuckle almost leaving my lips. “You’re joking, right? I’ve hurt a lot of people over the years.”

  “But most of that’s over now. Do you think it has something to do with the Italians?”

  My thoughts moved back to the rival group that’d been causing Jack so much grief over the past year. “No. They have no reason to mess with me personally. They might go after Jack, but not me.”

  “Then who?”

  I shrugged. “One of the old guards. Someone related to one of the men I’ve killed over the years. Someone hurt by one of the robberies I committed years ago.”

  “But that’s just the thing. Those things were years ago. Most of your criminal acts are decades old.”

  “We aren’t saints. I shot that guy last month.”

  “Because he was breaking into one of the warehouses.”

  “There might appear to be a code among criminals, but we are all criminals at the end of the day.”

  Ian stared out the window for a long moment. Then he sighed.

  “Whoever it is, he’s good. I haven’t been able to find anything on Cassidy’s phone that could tell us where this guy is. He used burner phones and a computer program to force the call to bounce off of so many cell towers that it’s impossible to tell where the calls originated. And the videos? He used some sort of software to dull the background noises and remove anything that might give us a hint about where they were filmed.”

  “Then we’re still pretty much at zero?”

  “Pretty much. The only thing I can tell you is that I think she’s being held in Los Angeles simply because it wouldn’t make sense to try to travel far with her. And the videos came almost immediately. They couldn’t have filmed while on the move, nor are they in motel rooms when they filmed them. There would have been indications.”

  “Where do you think they are?”

  “A house? Maybe an apartment, but I doubt it. I would guess they rented a house not far from her condo.”

  “Then we have a search area.”

  Ian shrugged. “I suppose.”

  “Once we find Cassidy, we’ll begin searching.”

  “But Pops—”

  “She’s your sister, Ian, like it or not. Just because I did something unforgiveable doesn’t mean you can take it out on her. She deserves better than that.”

  A muscle popped in Ian’s jaw as he crossed his arms tight over his chest.

  “Abigail would have accepted her with open arms. You know that.”

  “But you cheated on her.”

  “I did. Brianna didn’t do anything wrong.” I slowed the car as we pulled into the airport. “If you’re going to be mad at anyone, be mad at me.”

  “How much did Mom know?”

  “Don’t you think that’s between her and me?”

  Ian glanced at me. “Did she know?”

  “She knew about Cassidy. Even met her once. But you knew that already.”

  “Did she know you were in love with her?”

  I stopped the car and threw it into park, shifting to look at my son. “Is that what it is? That I love her?”

  Ian didn’t say anything at first. Despite the fact that he was a grown man, nearly thirty just like Killian, he looked like a petulant child as he stared out the windshield at the jet just a few yards in front of us. Killian was there with the pilot, watching us. But he didn’t approach. Killian had this third sense for tense situations. He always knew when to back off and let people deal with their own baggage their own way.

  He was his mother’s child that way.

  “Abigail knew who I was. She accepted that I wasn’t the best man in the world. But she also embraced the fact that I was there, that I was the best husband I could be. She loved me enough for both of us, and I will forever be grateful to her for that.”

  “She deserved better.”

  “She did. And I told her that. But for better or for worse, Abigail chose me.”

  Ian glanced at me. “It just feels like an insult to her memory, you with this woman.”

  “Abigail would want me to be happy. And Cassidy makes me happy.”

  Ian couldn’t argue with that,but he still wasn’t ready to accept it, either.

  We boarded the plane, both of us lost in our thoughts. Killian didn’t ask and that was appreciated. I stared out the window and thought about the last time I was on this plane. Cassidy sat beside me, her hand tucked into mine. Before everything became so crazy, before I knew I had a daughter, before I knew there was danger lying in wait for my entire family.

  Before I was rushing to save the one thing that was most precious to me.

  Chapter 21

  Cassidy

  The plane was crowded, some man with heavy thighs beside me, his body pressed tighter against mine than Brian’s had been hours ago. I shifted, staring out the window at the clouds, willing the plane to move faster. I wondered if Brian had found the phone, if he knew where I was headed by now. I hadn’t wanted to leave the phone. I’d wanted to call Brian, to tell him, to ask him what I should do. But the kidnapper had been clear in his instructions.

  Leave the phone. Let him follow. I want him to see.

  Was I leading Brian into a trap? What about Brianna? Was she really…no, I couldn’t let my thoughts go there. She was going to be okay. I had to believe that, or all this was for nothing.

  I closed my eyes and willed the fear burning in my throat to die down. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I needed it not to be happening. I needed my daughter to be safe. I needed to be in Brian’s arms, safe from the dangers in the world. Why couldn’t I have that?

  The plane suddenly dropped as we hit a pocket of turbulence. I cried out.

  “It’s alright,” the guy beside me said. “Plane crashes are so rare that our chances of going down are one in a million.”

  “Thanks.”

  Thanks for that image. For that thought. For another thing to be worried about.

  I opened my eyes and stared out the window again.

  There was a burner phone in my pocket. The kidnapper had informed me that I would find it in my purse. How or when he put it there, I didn’t know. But the idea that Brianna’s kidnappers had someone close enough to me to put a phone in my purse took away any sense of security I might have had.

  Ian was right. Someone was watching me.

  The phone buzzed almost the second the plane landed. I tugged it out of my pocket and read the text message as I quickly followed the other passengers off the plane.

  There’s a car waiting for you out front. Green sedan.

  Was I about to be kidnapped, too? Why would these people want Brianna and me, too?

  I followed the signs, walked quickly, wondering if maybe Brianna would be in the car. But that would be asking too much, wouldn’t it?

  The sedan was at the curb. Empty. There was no one else in sight, just other passengers talking excitedly with their family members, rushing to get to wherever it was they were going. I climbed into the car, searching for the keys. They were in the console, under a GPS device.

  I turned the device on, and it quickly lit up, showing a menu that indicated it had pre-saved destinations. I touched that button and discovered that the kidnappers had programmed the machine to take me to a specific place on the other side of the city. With a deep breath, I started the car.

  I hate driving in the city. I hate the aggressiveness of the other drivers. I was nervous enough as it was, but the traffic—rush hour traffic�
�was making it even worse. The last time I’d been here, I’d taken a cab. I told Brianna that I couldn’t rent a car because I would never survive driving on the interstate. She’d laughed and reassured me that once I was moved in, I wouldn’t have to drive. There were buses and taxis. Not only that, but the businesses I would want to frequent were within walking distance of our condos. It’d be okay.

  It wasn’t okay. But I’d do anything for her.

  The GPS took me to a deserted area not far from the Los Angeles Zoo. There was a little park surrounded by trees. Beautiful, really. But I didn’t understand why I was there.

  Wait by the green bench.

  I got out and went to sit on the only green bench in the little park. My hands were shaking.

  I’d only been there a minute when a hand wrapped itself around my mouth. Whoever it was pulled me back and pressed the cold blade of a knife against my throat.

  I closed my eyes and prepared to die.

  Chapter 22

  Brian

  We landed in Los Angeles before Cassidy’s plane was due to land, but we were too far to get to LAX before she could leave. I’d called Kevin and instructed him to wait for her, but he couldn’t find her.

  “There were just too many people, Pops. And she could have left the airport through any number of avenues. I couldn’t get past security…”

  Excuses. The boy was my favorite, but he wasn’t always the brightest in the damn bunch.

  “You should have bought a ticket. You should have been waiting at the gate when she got off the plane.”

  “I’m sorry, Pops. I thought—”

  “That’s the problem, Kevin.”

  Ian shot me a look and Killian took the phone. “Meet us at the condo,” he said.

  We climbed into an SUV that was waiting for us, rushing across town to the condo that Brianna owned. I found myself idly wondering which one was the condo Cassidy was due to move into before Brianna’s kidnapping.

  Kevin unlocked the door when he arrived nearly a half an hour after us. There was no sign of Cassidy.

  “Is she a neat freak, or something?” Ian asked as we walked through the door. The place did, indeed, look very clean. Everything in its place. And there was no dust. Not even on the bookshelves that were near the windows. I walked slowly around, running my finger over the shelves. There should have at least been a little dust. Brianna had been missing for over a month.