Fatal Charm

by Aimée Thurlo

  A war raged within Amanda, torn between what she wanted and what she knew she must do to protect herself and her daughter. As her eyes flashed on a photo of Hope on the wall, she pushed away from him and stood up.

  “I shouldn’t have let this happen.” Amanda questioned her sanity. This wasn’t the time to lose control.

  “Something special is happening between us, Amanda, despite the situation we’re in. Don’t deny it.”

  Amanda wondered why he was so eager to convince her. Still, evasions seemed pointless. There was no denying the truth. But for once she didn’t have a ready answer.

  Tony obviously took her silence as denial. “I better go,” he said, standing up. “If you need me, I’m only a phone call away. I can be back here in no time at all.”

  “I won’t need you,” she said quietly, mostly for her own benefit. “And Tony, I really don’t think you should come here again. It’s likely we’ll lose any advantage we might hope to gain if the kidnappers think we’re working closely together. It’ll be far better if they believe they’re in total control and have us pitted against each other. I’m sure they’re counting on your resenting having to go through me, and my resenting being put in this position.” At least she had been truthful about that part of it.

  “You may have a point. I’ll give it some thought and see if I can find a way we can work around it,” he said. He looked at her searchingly for a moment before he left.

  His answer infuriated her. Of course her idea was sound. What was there for him to think about?

  Amanda watched the path his pickup truck traveled long after the taillights had disappeared into the night. Longing inexplicably filled her. She turned away from the side window and went back into the kitchen, feeling more alone than she’d ever felt in her life.

  * * *

  SHORTLY AFTER SUNRISE, Tony met Raymond outside the large commercial building containing the local Bureau office, as well as half a dozen independent real-estate and legal firms.

  Tony had made careful arrangements for this meeting. With any luck, Raymond would never know for sure what had happened right under his nose. He’d suspect, but never be able to prove anything. That suspicion could well destroy their friendship as trust vanished between them, but it was the only way he knew of not risking his chances of getting his daughter back.

  Raymond watched Tony, studying his bruised face as they walked around to a side entrance. “What happened to you?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Then it’ll wait. Come on. I want to get this taken care of before the rest of the staff gets in. I’m passing you off as one of my informants to the security guards on the closed-circuit monitors, so whenever we pass a hall camera, remember to duck your head.”

  “No problem. And thanks.”

  Raymond led the way to his office, a tiny partitioned area within a large room. He walked to the file cabinet and pulled out a thick file. “This is the Henderson file. Henderson is still a fugitive. After he pulled off that armored truck heist five months ago, he went underground and we haven’t been able to flush him out. He’s still in the area, though. We’re sure of that.” Raymond took off his jacket and hung it on the hook near his desk.

  Tony noted the act with satisfaction. Old habits died hard. “Question is, how does Henderson tie in with my daughter’s kidnapping?”

  “He may not. You know as well as I that they might be using him as a red herring to cover up something else, or they could be asking you to steal a file on a high-profile case so they can blackmail you later on and increase their hold.”

  Tony studied the file, biding his time. The phone should ring soon. If his informant let him down, he’d personally kick his butt to the border.

  A moment later, the phone on the desk began to ring, and his ex-partner picked it up. Raymond’s expression changed, then he glanced at Tony. “It’s one of my contacts. He’s a block down the street. I need to go talk to him. It’s urgent.” Raymond pulled out another file from his bottom drawer. “Here’s the copy I’ve made for you. It’s virtually the same, except for the leads we’re currently following up on. It’ll pass a civilian inspection, I’m certain of it.”

  “Give me a moment to compare them, okay? Go talk to your contact. I’ll stay right here.” Tony saw the flicker of suspicion in Raymond’s eyes. “Come on, buddy. Copying this would take more than a few minutes, that’s if I could make it past the surveillance cameras in the hall and come up with a valid user code for the copier.”

  “I’m going to trust you on this one. Don’t screw with me.”

  “Go. I’ll be right here.”

  As soon as Raymond left, Tony pulled out a miniature camera. He focused carefully, then snapped photos, one after the other. The entire process took less than thirty seconds. He then slipped the camera inside Raymond’s jacket.

  Tony had returned his attention to the file and was comparing the duplicate to the original when Raymond walked back in. The agent’s eyes mirrored distrust. “I’m going to have to frisk you, buddy. I’m sorry.”

  “Go ahead.”

  After searching Tony, Raymond stood back. “I really regret doing that. But I couldn’t take a chance you’d pulled a fast one.”

  “You better escort me out of the building. I’ve got an appointment in a half hour I have to keep.”

  “Anything I should know about?”

  “It’s with a lawyer who works for me,” Tony said. “A little matter about a guy whose face I rearranged in a local tavern. It made the newspaper.”

  Raymond shook his head as they headed out the side door. “You were a good agent once. You’ve thrown it all away.”

  “That’s your way of looking at it. To me, nothing is more important than finding my kid.”

  Tony opened the driver’s-side door and, as he stepped into the pickup, purposely allowed the edge of his jacket to get closed in the door. As he raised his arms to the steering wheel, the fabric was torn lengthwise in a jagged line.

  Tony muttered a curse, throwing the door open again in disgust. “I’m about to try to convince a judge that he shouldn’t throw my butt in jail, but I’m going to go in looking like a total loser. Some days it doesn’t pay to get up.”

  “Here, take mine,” Raymond said, shrugging off his jacket. “I don’t want to see you in jail. I can’t afford to bail you out.”

  “Thanks, buddy.” Tony slipped off his coat and tossed it onto the seat. “I’ll bring this by your house later.”

  As Tony slid behind the wheel, he caught the look on Raymond’s face. It was impossible to tell for sure, but he could have sworn his old partner had just realized what had happened. No. That was just his guilty conscience. Had he known, Raymond would have stopped him. He started the engine, preparing for a fast getaway.

  “Good luck,” Raymond said calmly and stepped away from the truck.

  Tony watched him for a second, then nodded, still unsure. “I’ll catch you later.”

  As he drove away, he had the feeling that he’d taken the first steps down a very dangerous road. And this time, there would be no turning back and no friends who’d stand with him at the finish line.

  Next, he planned to hide electronic bugs at Amanda’s office and home. If she found them, it would guarantee his losing any trust he’d gained from her. But it had to be done for Carmen’s sake. It was certainly his day for betrayals.

  Tony was halfway to his home when his cellular phone began to ring. He expected it to be his contact, demanding the rest of his money, but it was Amanda. A sudden chill enveloped him as he heard her voice. There was trouble.

  “You’re going to have to come over. It can’t be avoided this time. I was just getting ready to go to work when I got a message, but not by phone this time. I need you to see this for yourself. Bernice will take Hope to the center. I’ll wait for you here.”

  “I’m on my way.” His heart went cold at the irony of the situation. His first chance to betray Amanda had come when she neede
d his help.

  * * *

  TONY ARRIVED AT AMANDA’S a short time later. As he pulled up, she opened the door and stood at the entrance, waiting. She was wearing slacks and a soft-looking, form-fitting white pullover. Desire, strong and urgent, tightened his body. His hands clenched and unclenched as he struggled to bring himself under control. A moment later, he stepped out of the pickup.

  As he walked toward the door, Tony saw fear in Amanda’s eyes. “Are you okay?” he asked quickly.

  Wordlessly, she led him to the backyard, then pointed to Hope’s sandbox. Someone had written in the sand with a stick or other sharp object.

  Tony crouched to read the block letters, “‘Don’t play games. You’ll lose.’”

  “That’s got to be from the kidnappers,” she said, her voice taut.

  “When did you find this?”

  “Right before I called you. I came out to hang Hope’s quilt on the clothesline. I always wash it after Winston comes over, because he gets on the bed with her. He sheds.”

  Tony studied the writing in the sand. “It looks like the wind’s started to fill in some of the letters. But there was no breeze to speak of last night.”

  She glanced down, following his gaze. “It’s clear enough,” Amanda snapped. “What can’t you read?”

  “No, you don’t understand. This message may not have been left last night. When were you out here last?”

  “Two days ago, I think. We’ve had long hours this week at the center. If I remember correctly, I was out here Tuesday morning with Hope, and there was nothing unusual then.”

  As much as he hated to alarm her, Tony couldn’t discount the possibility that this had nothing to do with his case. “Is it possible you may have made an enemy, someone you’re not aware of? How about a noncustodial parent who hasn’t been allowed to pick up his child at day care, or an old boyfriend, or anything else along those lines?”

  “The parents and my day-care staff have always worked closely together. Noncustodial parents haven’t been a problem for us so far, though I know from reading the newspaper that they can be. And I have no boyfriends.” Amanda shook her head. “This is from the kidnappers,” she said. “I can feel it.”

  “What you feel is fear. It’s natural, but you can’t afford to jump to conclusions because of it,” Tony answered calmly. “Do you have a camera?” He’d used up all his own film. “I’d like a photo of this.” Tony watched her step inside the house. She was still too close for him to be able to plant the bug. The windowsill would pick up too much outside noise and interference.

  She came out a moment later holding a Polaroid camera. “Moms always have cameras, but never enough film. There are two shots left.”

  Tony snapped off the shots. He slipped the prints into his jacket pocket trying not to notice the bug he also had in there, waiting to be placed in her house at the first opportunity. “Why don’t you go on with your morning schedule? I’ll follow up on this and do some investigating on my own this morning.”

  “Let me know if you find any leads to the creep who did this, okay?”

  “You’ve got it.”

  Tony left her home, headed down the street, parked behind some trees and waited. Moments later, Amanda drove by. Tony followed her into town, staying well back so she wouldn’t notice him. Once Amanda was inside the day-care center, he turned around and wheeled the truck down an alley. Hidden from view, he stepped into some gray overalls marked with the logo of a courier service he’d invented to complete the disguise. After posting a sign on the side of his truck with the service’s name, he drove down the street from the day-care center and settled back to wait. The only lead he wanted to pursue right now was Amanda herself. Instinct told him she was somehow the key to all this.

  He made himself comfortable, leaning back against the seat. Surveillance. It had been a while since he’d done this type of work, but he had no intention of letting Amanda out of his sight. Sooner or later, someone would tip his hand.

  * * *

  AMANDA GAZED FROM her office window at the toddlers playing outside, but found her thoughts drifting to Tony. He was so alone and desperate in his search for his daughter! That made him vulnerable. But when that happened to a man like Tony, it generally only served to make him more dangerous. Although it was difficult for her to think of him as a violent man, judging from what she’d heard and from what she’d seen of him, she couldn’t afford to lower her guard around him for even a minute.

  Leaving the confines of her office, Amanda walked outside. Every once in a while, she really needed to get away from the paperwork and be with the kids. As she entered the playground, a little blond-haired boy with big blue eyes walked up to her, dragging a small athletic bag.

  Amanda crouched as he approached. “Hello, Brian,” she said softly.

  He smiled broadly. “Hi! I found this, and Mrs. Brown said to bring it to you since it has your name on it.”

  “Really?” she said, her curiosity piqued since she had never owned an athletic bag. “Let me take a look.”

  As Brian pushed it in front of her, Amanda saw the tag. Strangely enough, it did have her name on it, neatly hand lettered in capital letters. “Where did you find it?”

  “Over there,” he said, pointing toward the swings. “By the tree. If you don’t want it, can I have it?”

  “We’ll see, okay?”

  Brian glanced over his shoulder, hearing one of the children calling out to him, then smiled at Amanda. “Gotta go, okay?”

  “Have fun!” Amanda picked up the bag, noting how light it was. It wasn’t hers, and she couldn’t recall ever having seen it at the center. With so much going on around here these days, there was no way she was going to risk opening it in front of the kids. Carrying it by the handle, she returned to her office, trying to ignore the prickly sensation at the back of her neck.

  Amanda set the blue-and-white bag on her desk, unable to decide whether or not to call the police, when a soft sound captured her attention. Leaning forward, she heard a muted ticking coming from within the bag.

  Just then, Bernice came into her office and Amanda jumped. “Hi. Sorry I surprised you. I just—”

  “Have a fire drill right now!” Amanda interrupted. “Make sure all the kids are out of the building!”

  “What—”

  “Just do it!” Amanda stepped away from the bag, grabbing the phone simultaneously. Fear gripped her as she dialed the emergency number.

  “I may have a bomb on the premises,” Amanda said quickly. “Send someone over to Los Tesoros Day School now!”

  Chapter Five

  From his vantage point in the pickup, Tony saw children being led quickly out of the day-care center. Picking up the binoculars beside him, he noticed the anxious expressions on the adults’ faces. This was no ordinary fire drill.

  He hurriedly left the truck and jogged down the street. As he reached the crowd of preschoolers and staff gathered in the parking lot, Tony glanced around for Amanda. She was nowhere to be seen.

  Anxiously he rushed past the children and adults and made his way to Amanda’s office. He found her there seconds later, pushing a tall file cabinet toward the window. “What’s going on?”

  Amanda noted his uniform, but there was no time to comment. “A bomb,” she replied, and gestured to the athletic bag on the desk. “I have no idea how powerful it is or how long we’ve got, but I intend to block the window with everything I can find. This is a crowded neighborhood. It’s not just my kids I’m worried about.”

  “I’ll take care of it. Go.”

  She looked at him with a determined gaze. “I’m not going anywhere. Help me or get out of my way.”

  “If it is a bomb, you could be turning that file cabinet into a missile. Leave it where it is.” Tony stepped around the file cabinet, maneuvered past the corner of the desk, and stopped in front of the athletic bag. “Where did it come from?”

  “It was discovered outside. One of the kids brought it to me. My na
me is on it.”

  Tony peered inside a portion of the zipper that had worked open. “It doesn’t seem to have any obvious booby traps, like a wire attached to the zipper. I need a flashlight and a small mirror.”

  Amanda reached into her purse and retrieved her compact and a penlight. “Will these do?”

  “Perfectly.” Tony slid the light inside the bag, then angled the small compact mirror.

  As he studied the contents of the bag, a man wearing an armored vest and helmet, visor up, came into the room. The bomb-squad officer, with a name tag announcing he was Baca, glanced at Tony in surprise.

  “Ramos, what the heck are you doing here?” Baca demanded in a gravelly whisper. “And what’s with the getup?”

  “I was on my way to a costume party, when I was suddenly invited here,” Tony answered sharply.

  “He’s helping me,” Amanda added.

  Tony stepped away from the bag. “Relax, Baca. It’s a hoax.”

  “Since when did you become an expert?” Officer Baca snapped, moving around Tony to take a look for himself.

  “It’s obvious, unless you think an alarm clock, three wooden dowels painted red and a hand-lettered sign that says ‘Boom’ is the real thing.”

  After studying the bag’s contents with his own curved mirror, the officer removed his helmet. “You’re right. But you shouldn’t have opened the bag. You’re not the Bureau’s golden boy anymore, Ramos. Far from it.” Baca glanced down at the athletic bag. “I hate crap like this. We’ve got better things to do with our time. What’s your part in this?”

  “I’m working for Ms. Vila on an unrelated matter,” Tony replied, wishing Amanda would stop glowering at him. It wasn’t his fault Baca had recognized him. He’d tried to come anonymously.

  Baca stared coldly at Tony. “I won’t have you interfering with my investigation of this incident. If you do, I’ll throw you in jail. Is that clear?”