by Desiree Holt
“He could have done something like this as payback,” Mike suggested. “I’m willing to bet he has the resources to do it.”
Fontaine made another effort to rise but Mark pushed him back in the chair. “I might agree with you on that.”
“I don’t know anything about a damn kidnapping,” Fontaine squeaked. “I want my rights here.” He glared at Wagner. “I could have your badge for this.”
Wagner stared at him a moment, then pulled open the door and waved in a uniform cop who’d been waiting. He pointed to Fontaine. “Cuff that man and take him out to the car. If he gives you any lip, stuff your handkerchief in his mouth. Take him down the back way to where the car’s parked.”
After a few frantic minutes a cursing Brent Fontaine was shackled and removed, his threats still echoing in the hallway as the two men moved toward the rear elevator.
“Now.” Wagner looked at each of them in turn. “Let’s figure out if this guy’s vindictiveness is strong enough for him to pull off the kidnapping for revenge.”
“I don’t think he’d do that,” Kat said hurriedly. “Brent would be more about one-on-one revenge.” She rubbed her head where he’d grabbed her hair. “He likes to inflict pain very personally.”
She avoided the questioning look in Mike’s eyes, knowing he’d want every detail from her later. A conversation she wasn’t looking forward to. But it was finally out in the open, a burden that had lifted considerably.
“It won’t hurt to see what we can get out of him anyway.” Wagner opened the door. “I’ll call you later and give you an update. Miss Culhane, do you want to file a complaint against him?”
“Yes, she does,” Mike answered for her.
“Mike and I will discuss it, detective.”
“Okay. I can hold him for forty-eight hours anyway. Make him uncomfortable enough so he’ll think twice about pulling the same stunt again.”
“Now,” Mike said when Wagner was gone, “let’s get that picture printed out. Kat, you think you can be calm enough to do this?”
“I have to try. With Brent out of the way I won’t have to worry about him interfering with my thoughts.”
“Okay then. Let’s do it.”
Chapter Nine
The three men were having another conference call and it was a toss-up which of them was suffering the most anxiety. With the FBI now watching all of them, they’d each retreated to their respective restrooms, returning the first call and waiting until they were all connected. It had been hell constantly switching telephones, using throwaways and having to send the numbers encrypted to each other. But with the FBI monitoring everything they couldn’t afford to take chances.
“I don’t know what you two are bitching about,” Pelley said. “I’m the one who’s in the middle of all this.”
“Yeah?” Ryan Post’s voice was scratchy from lack of sleep. “Well, I got a call not half an hour ago that some agent would be at my doorstep any minute to ask me what I knew about my sister’s whereabouts. Now I’ve got not just him but someone hooking up tracers to all my communications equipment. Personal and business. I thought these guys were supposed to be discreet? Not make themselves so visible?”
“Ryan, for god’s sake.” Pelley was exasperated. “They’re going to talk to anyone they can to see what information they can come up with. Anyway, it’s not as if they’re taking out a full-page ad in the newspaper.”
“I got a call too,” Rand Prescott chimed in. “They tracked me down through my secretary and now they’re all over me. Listen, the best thing we can do is just cooperate and tell them we know nothing. That way our hands are clean.”
“I’m just glad I’m not the one whose office they’re sitting in,” Post whined.
“Right. We all agreed you’d be the front man, Ron, and the logical point of contact. That way you can keep us informed of everything that’s going on. So why did you get us involved?”
“Because if they found out on their own, we’d be in bigger trouble. And we’d all look bad. We talked about this, remember?”
“I just wish to hell they’d tell us how to handle the ransom and this whole thing would be over with,” Post complained.
“And your sister back safely,” Pelley added.
“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”
“Well, we have one more little problem to deal with.”
“What?” Prescott was startled. “What the hell else could possibly happen?”
“The people from the Phoenix Agency are sticking their noses into this thing because of Mari Culhane. Her sister’s having a fit.”
“Phoenix? Who the hell are they?” Post asked, a bewildered tone in his voice.
“Some people you don’t want to meet on a dark night,” Pelley told him. “The closest thing to a mercenary agency you’ll find. Except they also do black ops jobs for Uncle Sam. And they’re called in when the government has a situation it can’t handle. They’re all ex-military.”
“Hell.” Ryan spit out the expletive. “We can’t let them start poking their noses into everything. All three of us have things we’d rather they not bring to light. Right?”
The others agreed with him.
“The FBI will take care of them.” Prescott’s voice was confident. “They’re very territorial and they don’t like freelancers invading their area.”
“I don’t know. These guys are…different.”
“Quit worrying,” Prescott snapped, “and get the money together. If you need help with that, let me know. Just be ready for the next email.”
When they disconnected the call, two men sat back in their chairs, trying to ignore the anxiety gripping them. The third smiled at the ease with which the others were being played, yet at the same time had his own worries to deal with. If Nando took it in his crazy head to kill the hostages, they were all screwed.
* * * * *
Kat was still trembling when they all walked back into the suite she and Mike were sharing.
“Kitten, you have to eat something more,” Mike insisted. “That sandwich wasn’t big enough to fill a cavity. You’ll never be able to get through a remote viewing session if you’re not at full strength.”
“At least Brent Fontaine won’t be bothering you anymore,” Faith pointed out. “Thank god for that.”
Kat blew out a breath, “That’s the truth.” She looked at Mike. “I know I should have told you about him before but we had just connected again after all this time and I wasn’t sure—”
“Hush.” He smiled at her. “We can talk about it later. And let’s see what Wagner finds out about him too. Meanwhile let me order you some dessert or something, take a minute to relax and then we’ll lay out the pictures and see what happens.”
“Message from Andy,” Mark told them. He’d been checking his cell while they talked. “What’s up?” he asked into the phone. “Uh-huh. Yeah. Holy shit. Okay. Send them to Mike’s laptop. It’s already set up. Do it now.”
Three sets of eyes turned to him.
“Give,” Mike said.
“Andy cracked the code on the emails sent to the three men. He said…” He stopped and looked at Kat.
“Tell me,” she demanded. “I don’t care how bad it is. It’s worse not knowing anything.”
Mike put an arm around her and pulled her tight against his body.
“Okay, here it is. There was video with each email showing the Wrights and Mari. They were holding a newspaper so the date was visible. The first message told them the hostages were unharmed and to watch for the next email.”
“They’re alive.” Kat couldn’t hide her relief. “Thank god for that.” But then she saw the tight look on Mark’s face. “That’s not all, is it? There’s more. You can tell me, Mark.”
“The second video showed them but this time…” He stopped, then started again. “This time Sydney Wright had a long cut on her face and Mari sported a wide bruise on her temple.”
Kat leaned into Mark, determined not to show any weakness. Whatever
it was, Mari was strong and would hang on until Phoenix could rescue them.
“What did the second message say?” Mike asked.
“They want ten million cash. Watch for the next email with instructions.”
“You can bet they won’t ask to have it dropped off in a large suitcase. They’ll want a wire transfer and that may be what leads us to them.”
Mark dropped his phone on the small table. “Possibly, if Andy is ready to track it. He tried tracing the email back by hitting Reply and trying to send them a message but it just bounced back. I think they’re shutting it down on the other end once the email gets through. But I say we need to find them before the ransom drop. We have no assurances that…” Again he paused.
“That they won’t kill the hostages,” Kat finished for him. “I’m well aware of that, Mark. And I’m going to do what I can to help you pinpoint their location.” She turned to Mike. “But I have to clear my mind or I won’t be able to focus so I’m going to take a hot shower. Steam always relaxes me. And I need a sugar rush. Please order me a gooey dessert and a thick chocolate shake.” She gave him a tired smile. “I’ll be able to do this. Really. I will.”
She turned on her heel and headed to the bedroom.
“Well, she’s no shrinking violet,” Mark commented with a hint of a grin.
“You can count on that,” his partner said.
“I’d say she’s got strength she hasn’t even tapped yet,” Faith commented. “Mike, how on earth did you ever let her get away before?”
Mike dropped into one of the big armchairs. “Because I was stupid. Idiotic. Out of my mind.”
“And too wrapped up in your playboy image, right?” Mark accused, softening the words with a smile.
“You got it. I’d been running so fast I didn’t realize I’d already gotten to where I was heading.”
“You are so lucky she’s giving you another chance,” Faith pointed out.
“Yeah but this little episode we’re involved in helped it along. I took her to dinner last night and I don’t know when I would have heard from her again if this hadn’t happened.”
“Speaking of which,” Mark said, “should we jog our friend Mr. Pelley again and see what we can pry out of him, or is that a bad idea?”
“He’s got the FBI all over him,” Mike reminded him, “and Special Agent Anthony Delaware doesn’t seem to want our company. I say let Andy monitor everything in cyberspace while we work things from our end.”
“You don’t really think Brent Fontaine had anything to do with this, do you?” Faith wanted to know.
Mike shook his head. “No. I just wanted to rattle his cage good so he’ll leave Kat alone. And I want to see what Andy digs up on him too.”
“Speaking of which.” Mark was standing by the laptop, watching the screen. “Four emails from Andy. I’m going to pull them up and see what he sent.”
The first two were copies of the emails sent to Pelley and the others. Faith couldn’t help the tiny gasp that escaped when she saw the photos.
“Oh my god.” Her voice reflected the horror she was looking at. “Oh Mark.” She moved close to her husband who wrapped an arm around her.
“Let’s see what else Andy sent,” Mike interjected, “and get it all out in the open before Katherine comes back in the room.”
“I wish we’d brought the portable printer with us,” his partner told him. “I can’t believe we were stupid enough to leave it behind. I’ll go out a little later and pick one up. Meanwhile, save everything to the flash drive and I’ll go downstairs and print it all out.”
The other emails held all the details they’d asked for on Ron Pelley, Ryan Post and Rand Prescott, as well as what Andy had been able to pull up quickly on Brent Fontaine. Mike sat at the table, scrolling through each document.
“Well, there’s plenty of bad blood between Sydney Wright and her brother,” he commented. “Their wealthy parents left them each enormous trust funds but Ryan Post doesn’t seem to have managed his very well. And his spas seem to be more of a financial drain than a thriving business. There’s a little item here about a very public fight brother and sister had at a party where he asked her and Eli for a substantial loan and they turned him down.”
“In public?” Mark couldn’t hide his surprise.
“Yup. Apparently he hadn’t been able to talk to them in private, he was drunk at this party and made quite a scene.”
“What else?”
“Rand Prescott is listed as a millionaire speculator who’s partnered with Eli Wright in some specific deals. Andy says he hasn’t gotten much on him yet but he’s checking more into all of them and also trying to get copies of Prescott’s financial statements.”
“If anyone can do it, he can,” Faith laughed.
“Ron Pelley is very interesting,” Mike went on. “From what Andy’s found so far, his personal financial situation fluctuates. He’s been on the bottom as much as he’s been on top.”
“Drugs?” Mark asked. “Gambling? Stock speculation?”
“He’s checking. Right now any of the three could be the frog in the pond here. I still think it’s strange that all three were contacted by the kidnappers.”
“Diversion. Throw people off the scent.”
“Unless they’re all in it together. Someone had to set this up with whoever staged the kidnapping and feed them the right information.”
“Pull up those pictures again. Let’s see if they tell us anything.”
“Oh god!”
No one had seen Katherine come in. Suddenly she was standing beside them, her eyes wide with shock as she looked at the photos on the screen.
Mike jumped up from where he was sitting and led her away from the table. “Don’t look, kitten. Please.”
“No. I have to see. It might help me in my session.” Her face was set in grim lines. “Really. I can handle it.”
The arrival of her food provided a momentary distraction. She insisted on sitting at the table and studying the photos while she ate. Finished, she pushed the plate away and asked them to clear everything off the table except the laptop and to leave the photos up on the screen.
“Where are the pictures you printed out?” she asked Mike.
“Right here.” He picked them up from the sofa table where he’d left them.
“All right. Here’s my picture of Mari.” She took it from the pocket of the jeans she’d put on and placed it next to the shot of the Wrights. Then she pulled the laptop around so she could see all the photos at once. “Can you close the drapes please and just leave one small lamp on?”
“No problem.” Mike hurried to close the heavy drapes, darkening the room and turning on one small table lamp.
He sat in the armchair again while the Hallorans took the couch, all eyes on Kat as she gathered herself to begin.
With Brent Fontaine finally out of her life, Kat was convinced her powers would be stronger, more focused. That her concentration would be greater. She studied each of the pictures in front of her very closely, then lifted her eyes and stared straight ahead. Just like always, the images wavered and blurred. She saw a piece of a dirt road, a tree, a dog running across her vision as if crossing a video screen. Then everything disappeared. She blinked, focusing her attention.
She opened her eyes and looked at the photos again, then closed them and focused. The road came into view again, the dog and this time a corner of a building. She tried to zero in on the building, to bring up a larger image of it but she was hung up on the corner.
Okay. Try again.
This time she saw more of the road, leading upward toward an ugly square adobe hut. And for the first time she saw a man dressed in dirty khaki pants and a shirt. The dog was running around him, barking at him. Once more everything faded.
Then she blinked and like always, the image became crystal clear. She saw part of the adobe building, a large gun slung over the man’s shoulder as he leaned against the wall, a truck parked off to the side and in the backg
round what was either a large hill or a small mountain. The blazing sun was casting shadows, hinting at the presence of others to the side of the hut.
It froze in her vision for a long moment, snapped by an imaginary camera, then it was gone.
Kat tried to call it back but all she could see were fragments again.
“Please turn on the light and open the drapes,” she said in quiet voice.
“What did you see, kitten?” Mike was at her elbow with a glass of water.
She drank from it thirstily, then explained the picture she’d been able to call up.
“I need more,” she told him, then looked at Mark and Faith. “But I didn’t feel a weakening of my gift this time, only a lack of sufficient information.” She blew out a sigh. “I think getting Brent Fontaine off my back has made a major difference.”
“And we’ll make sure he stays off your back,” Mike told her. “I’ll check with Wagner in a few minutes, make sure Fontaine gets on the plane back to Tampa and have one of our men pick him up there. He’ll have a shadow glued to him every minute. Until he moves on to someone else, that is.”
“I don’t wish him on anyone else,” Kat protested. “But I’ll be glad not to have a million calls a day from him.”
“So what’s your best guess?” Mark asked. “Any idea where they might be? Any clue at all?”
She told them what she’d seen. “They aren’t in California though. I definitely got that sense. They’ve been taken to a different country.”
“The closest is Mexico,” Mike put in. “And that would make the most sense. Whoever has them wouldn’t want to transport them halfway around the world.”
“I hate to be the voice of gloom,” Faith said, “but I’m just doing research for a book on a subject that’s been hot on the news. Kidnappings by drug cartels. They target prominent, wealthy individuals, take them over the border and extort exorbitant amounts in ransom.”
“Jesus,” Mark breathed. ”Drug cartels. That puts a whole new light on things.”
