Noticing the time on the screen of the phone, she turned to the cop again. “Officer, is it okay if Sal gets the bakery ready for business? I can call in another employee to help him.”
When the other woman nodded her assent, Sal told Fancy, “I’ll call Jamie from inside. Don’t worry, I’ll get everything set up.”
“Thanks. I’ll be in as soon as I can.”
Her employee took one last look at the back of the lot, where several crime scene techs were searching the area in a grid-like fashion, before shaking his head sadly and heading to the front door of the shop. Fancy knew how he felt. While she didn’t know Russell Adams well—he wasn’t a very talkative man—he was very friendly and polite, and didn’t deserve to be assaulted by anyone. She prayed he was okay and realized she didn’t know if he had any family who needed to be contacted. Maybe Brody would be able to help located them.
By the time several vehicles pulled into the parking lot, led by a typical looking, unmarked police car, Fancy was no closer to figuring out what was going on. The most likely scenario she could come up with was her vandal had come to do some more damage, and Russell had tried to stop him. After the vehicles had parked, she was surprised to see Ian, Devon, Marco, and Boomer climb out of them, along with a tall, black man with a shoulder holster on and a gold shield clipped to his belt.
Her gut clenched at their grim expressions, and she hurried to meet them. “Oh, my God. He’s dead, isn’t he?”
Ian’s eyes narrowed as he snarled. “You tell us. Where did your brother-in-law take him and why?”
Huh? “Corey?” Fancy shook her head in confusion. “What’s he got to do with Russell? I thought Russell was at the hospital about to go into surgery.”
“I’m not talking about Adams! Where’s Brody?”
Now she was really confused and getting more so by the second. “He’s working, isn’t he? He told me he was doing a detail very early this morning with Boo. . .” Her words trailed off as she realized Boomer was here and not with Brody. Fear began to flow through her body causing her to pale and tremble. “W-what’s going on? Someone, please tell me what’s going on because I have no idea—”
Marco’s glare softened as he held up his hand to cut her off. “Ian, I think she’s telling the truth. She has no clue that Corey kidnapped Brody.”
“What! What do you mean Corey kidnapped Brody? Th-that’s crazy.”
The detective stepped forward. “Let me start at the beginning, since we’re just making you more confused at this point. My name is Detective Isaac Webb. A patrol officer on a routine check of your business for vandalism found Russell Adams on the ground back there.” He pointed to the far end of the lot where the techs were still working. “He’d been stabbed in the chest but was still alive. While the officer was trying to administer first aid, Adams handed him a business card. Brody Evans’s business card, and said we had to help him. We didn’t get any more from Adams until they were just about to take him up to surgery. He said that a fireman had kidnapped Evans. Now, do you have any idea why your brother-in-law would kidnap Evans and where he would take him?”
Fancy shook her head vehemently. She was frightened because Brody was missing, but there was no way Corey could be involved in it. “That’s crazy! Corey kidnapping Brody? Why would Russell say something like that? I’ve known Corey for ten years, Detective, and there is no way he would kidnap Brody or anyone else. C-can’t you track Brody’s phone or something to find him?”
“We tried,” Boomer explained. “There’s no signal coming from it or Corey’s. We need to take a look at your security camera video. There may be something on it to help us and confirm or refute Corey being involved.”
“Yes. . .sure, of course. Come into the shop.”
On trembling legs, she led the way into the bakery and back to her office. With five large men in there with her, it was like being inside a gym locker. Boomer sat at her desk, and after her computer had booted up, his fingers flew across the keyboard. Four video feeds popped up on the monitor, but they weren’t moving. The pictures showed the empty parking lot, the alley behind the shop, and the front entrance.
“Shit,” Boomer said. “The feeds were turned off at just after seven last night. Nothing has recorded since then.” He glanced at Fancy before meeting Ian’s glare. “Maguire has keys to the place and insisted we show him how the system worked in case Fancy had trouble. She okayed it.” He turned back to Fancy. “Does anyone else here know how to get into the system to disable the cameras besides you and Corey?”
“No, no one.” Of course she’d given Corey the keys and passwords to the security system, never thinking he would do anything to harm her business—or Brody. She didn’t want to believe he had done what they were saying he’d done, but the evidence was beginning to pile up, circumstantial as it all was at the moment. “I-I don’t. . .I can’t. . .why would Corey do this?”
Stepping out of the office, a grim-faced Detective Webb pulled his cell phone out. The only thing Fancy heard him say into it was “ABP” and her brother-in-law’s name. Light-headed, she swayed on her feet, and Boomer jumped up, maneuvering the chair in front of him as Marco grabbed her arms to steady her. Settling her into the now-vacated chair, Brody’s best friend squatted before her. “Sweetheart, where would Corey take him? We’ve already sent a patrol car to his apartment, and neither Corey nor Brody’s trucks are there, and they aren’t at Brody’s house either. Does Corey own any other property or hang out somewhere secluded on a regular basis?”
“No. I can’t think of any place, and he only owns his apartment as far as I know. M-maybe some of the guys at his firehouse might have an idea.” Her tear-filled gaze met Marco’s worried one. “You don’t think he’d. . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say the words “hurt” or “kill”. . .she had to keep thinking this was all a mistake, and Brody and Corey would suddenly appear. They’d all laugh about the misunderstanding, and everything would be all right. But Fancy was coming to realize that was a dream and the reality was a nightmare. Why would Corey kidnap Brody and what was his eventual goal?
* * *
A white mist floated through the darkness of Brody’s mind. He was about to reach for it when the shock of cold water thrown in his face jerked him awake. As he sputtered and caught his breath, he found his arms were restrained behind him and his ankles were shackled to the legs of the wooden chair he was sitting on. That comprehension was enough to shake the last of the cobwebs from his mind.
“Wake the fuck up, you fucking pervert!”
“Shout a little louder,” Brody roared at Corey. “I don’t think the fucking neighbors heard you that time.”
The fireman punched him in the jaw, almost tipping him over. Pain shot through him, but he ignored it, trying to take in his surroundings and figure out how to get free. Tugging on his hands, he realized there was more than one pair of handcuffs on his wrists. Shit. He could have easily popped the chain links on one pair. They’d practiced doing that all the time in the SEALs, having competitions on who could get out the fastest. But the extra set made it impossible to twist them to the correct angle. The bastard had done his homework.
“Don’t worry about the neighbors, there aren’t any for miles. No one to interrupt our fun.”
The man walked behind Brody as the geek glared at him. Why had he never seen the craziness in Corey’s eyes before? The guy was fucking certifiable. Glancing around, it was easy to see they were in a garden shed, but where was beyond him. There were no windows so he had no concept of what time it was or how long he’d been out. Around him, there were assorted tools, a lawn mower, and. . .fuck him! His chair was sitting inside a plastic kiddie pool, and from behind him, he heard the sound of a faucet being turned on. This can’t be fucking good!
Turning his head, he saw Corey pulling a hose over and throwing the end into the pool. Water quickly covered the bottom and began to rise up the sides. To his left, he spotted something that made his blood chill—a car battery wi
th jumper cables. As Jake would say, fuck a fucking duck!
Brody struggled to get free from his bonds. But between the extra care that had been taken to ensure he couldn’t escape and the fact that he was still weak from the drugs he’d been given, his fight was useless. He doubted he could talk his way out of this, but he didn’t have many alternatives at the moment. “Listen, my guess is this is because you don’t want me dating Fancy, is that it?”
“She’s too good for the likes of you. All you want to do is abuse her. Just like my perverted brother. Taking her to fucking sex clubs. How does it feel to be tied up? Huh? Is this what you do to her, you fucking pervert?” Spittle shot from Corey’s mouth, hitting Brody in the face. “I saved her from Patrick, and now, I’m going to save her from you. Maybe then she’ll realize what a real man is like.”
Oh, fuck! Brody stared daggers at the man. “You cut the brake line on Patrick’s truck, didn’t you? And made it look like it had been hit by a rock. You caused the accident that killed your brother and put Fancy in a coma!”
Corey punched him in the face again, and Brody tasted blood on top of his fury. “She wasn’t supposed to be with him! It was an accident! How was I to know her car wouldn’t start that morning? But this time, she’s safe. Nothing will happen to her. And after you’re gone, then I’ll be there for her—just like before. But this time, I’ll make sure she sees I’m the right man for her.”
Yeah, certifiable was too mild a word for this guy, but right now is not the time to think of a better one. It’s time to fuck that duck again!
Chapter 22
Ian paced back and forth in the war-room as Nathan banged away on his keyboard, attempting to find a connection between Fancy’s brother-in-law and wherever he’d taken Brody. Dialing another number, Ian was trying to call in some favors to get an alert put out on the local news channels about the missing man and his truck. Hopefully, someone would call in that they’d spotted them. Boomer, Marco, and Webb had gone to interview Maguire’s co-workers at the firehouse, but after the firemen had gotten over their initial shock at the current events, no one there had any idea where they might be.
While the Omega Team was also out scouring the area, Fancy was with Kat and Angie in the conference room, contacting the few friends she knew Corey hung out with on occasion who weren’t in the fire department. Ian let her do it to keep her busy. In the meantime, Devon was going through the city’s traffic camera feeds, trying to spot the geek’s truck. Nathan had hacked into the system for him before starting his own search on Maguire’s financial status, credit card purchase history, and anything that might give them a hint as to where to start looking.
As Ian hung up the phone, Webb and Boomer strode in, and the latter took a seat next to Devon. “We’ve got nada. Webb’s got everyone out looking for them. Maguire’s truck was found in a supermarket parking lot about two blocks from the bakery, so they must be in Egghead’s truck.
Crossing his arms, the detective leaned against the wall. “I just called the hospital. Adams is out of surgery and in the ICU. It’ll be touch and go for the next twenty-four hours, at least. They have him intubated and in a drug-induced coma so we can’t get any more info from him.
“DeAngelis went over to Maguire’s condo with one of the uniformed guys and is knocking on doors again, trying to see if anyone we missed earlier is home now.”
Boomer got Nathan’s attention. “If you patch another computer into the traffic feeds for me, I’ll help Devil Dog search them.”
“Sure.” The computer tech rolled his chair across the room to another section of Brody’s vast console setup. Flicking the mouse on its pad, he brought it out of sleep mode. A satellite map appeared, and he paused, tilting his head to the side as he studied it.
The man’s actions caught Ian’s attention. “What is it?”
Nathan tapped the screen. “The blue dots are the trackers in the Omega team’s phones spread out around Tampa, right? And all these red dots are everyone on the Alpha team. They’re all here in the compound except DeAngelis, whose dot is over here.” He pointed to the one a few inches away from the others on the map, which translated into miles. “The only one missing is Evans’s dot, right?.
“Yeah, we know that. I checked this morning for Egghead’s phone and it wasn’t registering.” He stepped behind Nathan and stared at the screen. “Is it back up again?”
Webb leaned in, and Devon and Boomer stood to look over the computer geek’s shoulder as Nathan shook his head. “No, but. . .” He grabbed the mouse and moved the pointer on the screen to an area north of the compound where a white dot was. “What’s this one?” He clicked on the dot, and the info for a tracking device popped up. “Says ‘Bracelet number one.’ What the fuck is that?”
Ian slapped him on the shoulders in relief. “That is fucking Brody! He was going to give Fancy a tracking device to wear, just in case, because of all the crap going on with the vandalism and missing subs. He must still have it! Where the fuck is he?”
Rattling off the coordinates, Nathan zoomed in on the property and got the address on the north side of Tampa. He quickly switched over to another screen and entered the address into whatever database he was in. “Property is three acres in the snooty part of town, apparently. Three days ago there was a fire in the main house, and it was pretty much a total loss. And looky here. . .Maguire’s station house responded to it!”
Without being told, Boomer and Devon ran from the room to get their gear ready, but Webb stopped Ian in his tracks. “I gotta call in SWAT, Sawyer. You know I have to. Don’t go all cowboy on me.”
“If they beat us there, then it’s all theirs. But I’m not waiting around for them.”
Webb nodded as he dialed his phone. “Understood. I’ll be right behind you.”
As Ian hurried to the conference room, Tiny and Kristen came in the front door. Perfect timing. “Big guy, I need you on guard duty here.”
Inside the room, Fancy jumped to her feet. “What happened? Did you find them?”
“We think so—”
“I’m going with you!” She snatched her purse from the table.
Ian stepped in front of her and grabbed her shoulders. “Absolutely not.” Before she could argue, he continued. “Listen, little one. I’m pulling Dom rank here for several reasons. One, Egghead would kill me if I let you within a mile of whatever’s going on. Two, I have a feeling this has a lot to do with you, personally; you’re the only connection between the two of them. If Corey sees you, it could set him off. I have to assume Brody’s incapacitated somehow, and that means we have to take every precaution. Stay here with the women and Tiny, and I swear I’ll let you know what’s going on as soon as I find out, okay?”
Tears filled her eyes, but she relented and nodded. “Please call me as soon as you can. I can’t lose Brody, too.”
Squeezing her shoulders, Ian placed a kiss on her forehead. He still felt like a heel from when he’d barked at her earlier outside her shop. “I will.” Turning to Angie, he hugged her tight. “We’ll get him back, I promise.”
“You better,” his fiancée replied. “He’s walking me down the aisle in a few weeks.”
“And he’ll be there.”
With a fist bump to Tiny on the way out, Ian ran to the parking lot and hopped into the passenger seat of the SUV his brother had running and waiting. Devon hit the gas before the door was even shut. Not seeing the detective’s car, Ian assumed Webb was already on his way to the location.
Boomer was in the backseat, typing away on his phone. “Texting Polo and Omega. Where should they meet us?”
Hitting the speed dial on his own phone, Ian waited for Nathan to pick up the line in the war-room.
“Hello?”
Not bothering with announcing himself, the boss said, “You better have a live satellite image up on your screen right now, or you just lost all the brownie points you earned five minutes ago!”
A snort came over the line. “I assume you want a staging a
rea for everyone to meet up. There’s a kiddie park one block over on Mercer Drive. The only structure they can be in is a shed of some sort about fifty yards behind what’s left of the house on the west side of the property. My guess is Evans’s truck is parked behind it under some trees because I can just make out the corner of a pickup, but I can’t be certain it’s his. Nothing else to report; it’s all quiet from what I can see. I’ll monitor it until you get there.”
“Under no circumstances do you let any of the women watch the live feed,” Ian warned. “If you do, I’ll dump your body in an alligator pit, you hear me?”
“Loud and clear, Boss-man.”
Hanging up the phone, Ian relayed the info to Boomer for the text, before finding Webb’s cell number in his own call log. He hoped like hell they weren’t too late—aside from the obvious not wanting to lose a friend and teammate, Angie would fucking kill him.
* * *
Marco’s vehicle flew down the street to where the target property was, and he slammed on his brakes. He’d been a lot further away than the rest of them, and Boomer had sent him an updated text that they were now one house down from where Brody was being held—hopefully still alive. Not bothering to park the truck correctly, he jumped out of the driver’s seat and raced over to where Webb was talking with Ian, Cal Watts and the leader of the TPD SWAT. “I got here as fast as I could. How the hell did you get an entire SWAT team here so fast—make that two teams?”
Not only was TPD’s team present but so was the local FBI Hostage Rescue Team. Cal was head of the HRT and shook Marco’s extended hand. “Believe it or not, we were around the corner at the old junior high school doing a joint active shooter drill.” The large building built in the 1950s was scheduled to be demolished after a new school had been erected a mile away. The local law enforcement was taking advantage of it for training before it was destroyed. “Only took two minutes to load up and hightail it over here. We’ve got the shed surrounded but haven’t made contact yet. Two positive heat signatures inside with no windows. One of my guys is trying to find a spot to snake a camera in before we let Maguire know we’re here. We’ve evacuated the homes on all sides.”
Tickle His Fancy: Trident Security Book 6 (Trident Security Series) Page 20
