“But there was no sign of her?” Diego wondered aloud, in a way not surprised that no one had seen anything. New Yorkers set on their typical routines had a tendency to wear blinders.
“One of the hospital guards said a homeless man came into the lobby claiming that someone had been grabbed on the corner,” Melissa said, worry evident in her tone. “We have to find her. She needs to take her medications.”
“Why didn’t the guard alert the police?” Diego asked.
Diana shook her head. “After mentioning the kidnapping, the homeless man went on to say the Men in Black had done it so that no one would know it had been an alien.”
Diego raked back his locks and blew out a frustrated sigh before venting his anger on her. “Why did you let her run around alone, anyway?”
Ryder seemed ready to come to her defense, but Diana laid a gentling hand on his thigh. “Ramona insisted. She thought it would be better for me to spend my time investigating rather than babysitting. Hard to argue with that logic.”
“Except now she’s missing,” he nearly shouted. Fear was gripping him, hard. Esperanza had been gone for several hours, as well, before they had realized she’d been taken. They hadn’t discovered her whereabouts until it was too late.
He didn’t want to lose Ramona like that, too. His desire to save her went way beyond the promise he had made to help her. In the past few days without her, his life had been bleak, lonely. In the short time they had been together, she had made an irrefutable impact on his life. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to the way his life had been before she’d come into it.
But finding her wouldn’t change that. She was human and she was dying. Only one thing could alter the ultimate outcome of that linear human existence.
Ryder’s voice interrupted Diego’s musing, and he looked up. The other vampire’s face mirrored his own emotions. The want. The despair. The love.
Diego realized he was in love with Ramona, much as he might try to deny it. But he couldn’t allow that emotional morass to cloud his mind right now. He would deal with her mortality when the time came. “We need to find her, and fast,” he declared.
“Definitely. Her system is too compromised to be without her medications for any length of time,” Melissa reiterated.
“Her phone is still on, so I can try to track it. That is, if it’s with her and wasn’t dropped somewhere along the way,” Sebastian said. With his hacker skills, he would be able to use his computer to get some information on her whereabouts.
“Hopefully the GPS chip is enabled. Can you do it from here?” Diana asked, inclining her head in the direction of Ryder’s home office.
“Better I go to our apartment. My equipment’s got more bells and whistles,” her brother explained, and with a parting kiss on his wife’s forehead, left the room.
“What if we can’t track it?” Diego asked, and began pacing again, thinking about whether any of his vamp abilities would be of use, not that they had helped to save Esperanza. Smells would carry only so far, and Ramona’s mortality meant she wasn’t as traceable as one of his vamp friends, whose power and presence he could sometimes sense from quite a distance.
Diana rose from the couch, stood in his path and laid a hand on his chest. “We have options. I’ve got some other developments, but I need you to calm down.”
Balling his fists, he loomed over her petite form, almost glowering as he said, “Tell us what you’ve got, because right now I’m all for flying over to van Winter’s place and tearing him apart until I get an answer.”
“Which would accomplish nothing. We need to get the goods on van Winter to clear Ramona. To keep her from going to jail,” the agent explained.
“Ramona says she didn’t sign the copies. Will the pictures I took help prove that?”
“I’ve got a friend in handwriting analysis who said he would compare the signatures. The problem is, if Ramona didn’t sign them, who did?”
“It could have been Luis Rodriguez or even van Winter himself,” Ryder suggested. “There were probably few people who had access.”
Diana nodded. “I’ll try to get samples of their handwriting for additional comparison.”
Reining in the demon who would willingly inflict punishment to meet his needs, Diego stepped back. “What other information do you have?”
From the coffee table Diana picked up an envelope she’d tossed there earlier. She pulled out a series of photos.
“John Henry, nicknamed Big John. He’s got several priors.”
Something niggled in Diego’s mind about the man in the mug shots and he struggled to recall where he had seen the face before.
“He’s familiar to you?” Diana asked, reading his body language.
“He is,” Diego admitted, and as he flipped from one set of mug shots to the next, he realized where he had seen the man. “I think this is one of van Winter’s bodyguards. He was at the gallery the day of the show.”
He pointed to a later photo of the felon, where he carried a little more weight than in the earlier ones. If memory served Diego correctly, the man was even stockier now. “His face is heavier, and he’s thicker through the chest and arms.”
Diego flinched as he looked at the notations on the various rap sheets, which detailed a long history of arrests for violent crimes. “Why would van Winter hire a goon like this?”
“To do his dirty work,” Diana replied, easing the photos from his hands. “I suspect he’s the one who grabbed Ramona. The hospital promised us access to the feeds from the outside security cameras. Hopefully, they got a good glimpse of him.”
“And you’ll be able to do something with all this?” Diego asked.
She hesitated, and at that delay, Ryder finally piped in. “Can you do anything, given your current duty assignment?”
Diego remembered Ryder’s comments some time ago about Diana being on desk duty. He suspected that meant she shouldn’t be involved in any kind of investigation. “Diana?” he pressed, anxious to hear her answer.
“I’ll talk to the assistant director. I’ll explain the urgency of the situation. With a little more information we may be able to convince a judge to issue a search warrant.”
“And what if we can’t get more info?” Diego challenged.
“If we get the video segments shortly, we may have a shot of the abduction, and if Sebastian can triangulate her location—”
“That’s a lot of ifs.” His common sense told him Diana had to build a case that would hold up before a judge. His vampire sense, however, only understood action. It didn’t want to wait for pieces of paper when there were more effective ways to secure what he wanted.
Diana seemed to sense his mood, and as he started past her, she pressed her hand against his chest. Despite her small size, she was strong. Maybe a little too strong for a mortal. As he met her gaze, she quickly pulled back, as if realizing she had given away something. Despite that, she urged, “Don’t do anything crazy. If we don’t have enough by morning—”
Melissa jumped into the discussion. “You can’t let it go too long. We’ve stabilized her with the latest medications, but if she’s off them for even a short while, there could be complications.”
“Like what?” Diego asked curtly, wanting to understand in the event that—
Banishin
g that image, he listened patiently as Melissa explained about Ramona’s anemia, how they had determined it was an autoimmune reaction, and what her body might do to itself if she wasn’t properly medicated.
After she had finished, he looked around the room at all of them. Friends one and all, who had always been by his side. He hoped they would be this time, as well.
“I’m not going to let her die while some judge decides if there’s enough paperwork on his desk. If you don’t know by tomorrow, I’ll deal with van Winter myself.”
Her eyes were heavy-lidded as she tried to wake. Her limbs were leaden and sore. With a shake of her head, Ramona tried to drive away the cobwebs that had spun themselves around her brain. It only succeeded in creating whirling images in her vision, which, when combined with the thick smell of gasoline in the small space, made her retch. As the dry heaves racked her body, her sides ached, prompting memories of being tackled by van Winter’s bodyguard.
She realized she was strapped to a hard metal chair, her wrists bound behind her back, the bindings painfully tight. Thick rope wrapped around her upper body, loose enough to let her move a bit, but not work her way free.
Exhaustion had settled in, but she managed to lift her head. Her eyes slowly focused and she started to make out her surroundings.
The barest of light spilled in from behind her, but she couldn’t turn enough to see where it came from. Before her and to the side were what looked like the doors of a truck. When she banged with her sneakered feet, the dull thud sounded metallic.
Gasoline vapors continued to permeate the stuffy space, and the heat seemed to increase the longer she sat there.
Ramona realized she was probably still in the van she had been thrown into earlier. She wondered why her kidnappers hadn’t moved her somewhere else, but then again, killing her here would make it easier to dispose of her body and not dirty any of van Winter’s precious belongings.
She had no doubt that’s what they intended to do, much like they had killed poor Luis Rodriguez. She wondered why they hadn’t done it already.
The minutes ticked by slowly and she sat there, her body a combination of numbness from the inactivity and pain from the physical attack earlier that day. She hadn’t thought herself claustrophobic, but as time passed, it seemed harder to breathe in the stale, hot, petroleum-scented air.
Sweat oozed from her body, soaking her clothes and adding to her discomfort as, little by little, a chill began in her center and spread outward.
She recognized the signs. She knew her body was getting weaker from the absence of the medicines that kept her going. As the coldness spread, a pain racked her head, its angry tendrils reaching outward, taking hold in her skull.
Someone finally opened the side door of the van, illuminating the space. She flinched from the light, but forced herself to keep her eyes on the arrivals—van Winter and his bodyguard.
“Good evening, Ramona. I trust we haven’t inconvenienced you too much,” the older man said as he stepped into the vehicle.
His bodyguard followed, hunching his tall body despite the relative spaciousness of the interior. He opened a folding chair for the multimillionaire and then another for himself. Once they were both seated, the bodyguard shut the door and snapped on a dome light.
“What do you want?” she asked, gritting her teeth as her voice echoed through her skull.
“Alicia Tipton called to thank me for allowing such a marvelous work to leave my collection. She mentioned that Diego Rivera had come by,” van Winter said.
“That’s not surprising, since Mrs. Tipton paid a nice sum for one of my latest works.” Truthful, but Ramona suspected Diego’s visit had had nothing to do with the canvas Alicia had purchased.
Van Winter inclined his head in the direction of the bodyguard, who rose and hunched beside her. She refused to flinch. Instead, she lifted her chin and shot the thug a look that she hoped seemed more annoyed than scared.
“We can do this in one of two ways, Ramona. One is, you tell me who you’ve spoken to and what you’ve told them. Two, I let Big John convince you to tell me.” Van Winter crossed his legs and straightened the pleat on his pants, as fastidious as always.
“So you can do to them what you did to Luis?” she retorted straining forward against the rope.
Big John jerked toward her, fist raised. She did what she didn’t want to do—she flinched. But then she immediately glared at him to make up for it. “You don’t scare me.”
The bodyguard menaced her again, but van Winter called him off. “Not yet, John. You can have your fun with her later, after we’ve talked.”
“I’m not talking.” She relaxed in her chair and took a breath as the headache that had been taking root blossomed in her skull until it felt as if her head would explode.
“Not feeling well, my dear?” van Winter asked.
But she couldn’t respond. She couldn’t do anything but hold her breath and hope the pain would pass. The pressure built until, like water bursting through a dam, blood rushed from her nose and ran over her lips and chin.
She tipped her head back, hoping to stem the flow. Instead, the blood leaked down the back of her throat. The sharp copper taste filled her mouth. She wondered for a moment if this was what Diego hungered for. If this was what he dreamed of at night.
“Boss, what should I do?” Big John asked, but van Winter only chuckled.
“This is rather beneficial, actually. She’ll die all on her own. We won’t have to go through the bother of doing anything other than dumping her body somewhere.”
The blood dripping down her throat made her choke. She leaned forward and coughed, sending blood and saliva flying from her mouth and onto van Winter’s shoes and pant legs.
“We can help you feel better,” he said as he withdrew a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabbed it away.
Her head lolled forward, feeling heavier than it had before. The nosebleed was draining her, as was the headache. Her midday dose of pills might help stop both, but she knew the price would be high.
“I need my medicine. It’s in my apartment.” Her voice sounded weak and she sagged against the restraints.
Big John looked to van Winter, but the old man waved him off. “We can’t afford to be seen around her place.”
Big John placed his thumb and forefinger on her chin, picking up her head until she stared at his brutish face. “Be nice. Talk to us.”
Talk to them and have them go after her friends? After Diego? She shook her head, or at least thought she did.
“The medicines for some names,” the bodyguard teased.
“Let it go. Maybe if she’s suffering enough, she’ll reconsider and tell us what she knows.” Van Winter rose then and Big John leaped into action, opening the door for him and then closing it once again, sealing himself alone with her inside the back of the van.
Roughly he grasped her chin and jerked her head up once more. “Don’t be stupid. The boss man means business.”
“Water,” she said, her voice a tiny croak as she tried to swallow.
“Don’t have any. Blood will have to do.” Before she could ask again, he left the van, securely shutting the panel door behind him and plunging her into darkness once again.
She knew her body well enough to know she
was in a bad way. She wondered how much longer she could last if she didn’t get her medicines.
Closing her eyes, she willed herself to rest, praying as she did so that her friends would find her in time.
That she’d be able to say goodbye to Diego.
Chapter 20
D iego sat beside Sebastian as he played the video feeds from the security cameras trained on the streets around the hospital.
The first two tapes yielded little, as they were of the west and north and Ramona had exited out the east, according to the hospital security guard.
The third feed provided a glimpse of her leaving through the revolving doors, a broad smile on her face. Diego’s heart sped up at the radiance of that smile, but a second later, they lost sight of her as she walked southward. The time on the video indicated that it had been twelve thirty-five.
He sneaked a quick peek at his watch. It was nearly seven now. Melissa didn’t know whether Ramona had her medications with her and even if she did, he knew van Winter wouldn’t care about making sure she got them. It would be way too convenient for him if Ramona died from her illness instead of a suspicious hit-and-run like the one that had killed his former employee.
The last video captured the southern side of the building, and Sebastian immediately advanced to the proper time frame. As expected, Ramona came into view and the wide camera lens tracked her passage into the crosswalk. At that point the real action began.
An unmarked white delivery truck jerked to a halt before Ramona. From behind her, a large, muscular man grabbed her and tossed her into it, then jumped in himself before the van sped away.
Sebastian returned to the start of the segment. He pushed a number of buttons on the computer. “I’m making a copy you can take to Diana.”
Desire Calls Page 19
