The Ransom (The Munro Family Series Book 7)

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The Ransom (The Munro Family Series Book 7) Page 18

by Chris Taylor


  Rubbing the soreness from his shoulders, he fitted the key into his front door and dragged himself inside. A hot shower and a few hours of uninterrupted sleep would go a long way to making him feel almost human again.

  With that thought in mind, he stripped off his shirt and loosened his pants. He seated himself on the couch and tugged off his boots. His socks were tossed next to them. Pants and underwear joined the pile.

  The feel of the hot spray on his neck and shoulders was the best thing he’d felt in days. Maybe weeks. He groaned in appreciation and let the water do its magic.

  The relief he felt, knowing Olivia was safe, was immeasurable. Ellie had clung to him, crying her gratitude, trying to form the words. Clayton had hugged him hard—the expression of relief and thankfulness on his face conveyed his thoughts. Tom had shaken him by the hand and offered him a few solemn words of thanks.

  While Lane appreciated their gratitude, he didn’t need it. Knowing an innocent little girl was safe from harm was enough for him.

  During the exchange, Vukovic had gotten off a shot. Fortunately, it had gone wide. His men had quickly and efficiently done what they’d been trained to do and made sure the thwarted kidnapper was given no second chance. Clayton had bolted from the squad car and Olivia had collapsed against her parents, surrounded by their embrace and protected by the wall of their love.

  Lane had left them laughing and crying and talking over each other, as the stress of the past few days and their indescribable relief took over. He would interview Olivia a little later, once she’d been checked over at the hospital and had a chance to recover from her ordeal.

  Pouring a generous blob of shampoo into his hair, Lane scrubbed at it long and hard before dipping his head back to rinse. Repeating the process with the conditioner, he eventually turned off the faucets and stepped out.

  After toweling dry, he took his razor out of the bathroom cabinet and lathered his cheeks. It seemed like a waste of precious sleep time, but it felt like weeks had passed since he’d had any semblance of normalcy and at that very moment, having a shave was something he felt he needed to do.

  Slapping on some aftershave, he looked at himself in the mirror. He looked the same. And yet, everything was different. His life had been turned upside down and inside out. First, with the kidnapping of his friend’s daughter and then meeting the first woman he couldn’t get out of his mind.

  Despite all that had happened, his brain refused to move on from her. Zara was all he could think about. Every moment since Vukovic’s arrest, he’d wanted to call her; to hear her voice; to reassure her that it was over, and that everything was all right.

  But he hadn’t. He’d returned to the station and had kept busy debriefing, answering questions, interviewing Vukovic, writing reports. Clayton telephoned him at one stage and told him about Sandra Vukovic and her part in the ransom demand. Lane had consulted with Michael and a pair of officers were dispatched to her home. She’d been arrested and charged and had been put in a cell adjoining her husband’s. Officers from child welfare had taken custody of the baby.

  Vukovic had been presented with overwhelming evidence that he and he alone had instigated the abduction of Olivia Munro. Despite the fact Lane and the other members of the taskforce were convinced Jovanovic was the mastermind behind the scheme, they only had the evidence of Allison Dowton’s drug debt and the meeting with her husband and it wasn’t enough. Jovanovic would claim he’d called upon the AG about payment for a debt and no one could dispute that fact. Without more, they’d never prove he had anything to do with Olivia’s kidnapping. Their only chance was to force something from Vukovic.

  So, Lane had showed the biker the security tape of him entering Myer moments before the little girl had been abducted. He’d told him of the eyewitness who had identified him out of a photo line-up. He’d talked about Olivia’s ability to give evidence as to the identity of the man who had abducted her. He’d reminded Vukovic about the call he’d made from his home phone to Ellie Munro and that he and he alone had arrived that morning with the girl in exchange for the ransom money. Lastly, he reminded him of the sentence he could expect for kidnapping a child.

  Vukovic’s initial brashness quickly dissipated. Within moments, he’d spilled his guts. No surprise—he insisted it was all Draco’s idea. The tension in Lane’s shoulders didn’t ease until the last of the evidence had been recorded. Another team of TRG officers was immediately put together and plans were made to arrest Draco Jovanovic.

  Lane wanted to be part of it, but his boss had insisted he go home. He’d been working around the clock with only the briefest of rest breaks in between and it was in everyone’s interests that he go home and get some sleep. There would be plenty to do once Jovanovic had been brought back in for questioning. Michael wanted Lane alert.

  Of their own volition, Lane’s thoughts circled back to Zara. If Draco implicated her stepmother, things would get messy for the AG and everyone connected with him. Draco would have nothing to gain by publicizing his connection to the AG’s wife, but scum like Jovanovic didn’t care about how their comments might permanently damage the reputation of innocent people. Zara and her father would be sullied by their proximity to the woman who’d sold her soul to the devil.

  Once Allison’s relationship with the president of the Redbacks became public knowledge, her candid admissions of illegal drug use couldn’t be overlooked by law enforcement, no matter how much more pain and humiliation the laying of criminal charges against Zara’s stepmother would cause her family. And there was nothing Lane could do about it.

  With a sigh, he dropped his wet towel on the bathroom floor and strode naked, down the hall. Without bothering to draw the blinds, he threw himself across his bed. Stacking his hands behind his head, he was once again bombarded with images of Zara. He’d never met a woman like her and he was struggling with how to deal with the unfamiliar feelings she stirred inside him—and what they meant for his long-term plan to remain single.

  His father had died in the line of duty when Lane was very young. It was only when he was older that he’d come to fully realize the effect his father’s early demise had on his mother. She’d been widowed in her early thirties and left to raise four young sons on her own. It had been a constant struggle and one Lane hadn’t really appreciated as a child.

  When he became an adult, the world around him began to look different, became clearer and he’d determined then and there to never put another woman in the position his mother had been placed. That he was going to follow in his father’s footsteps and go into policing had been indisputable, but he’d vowed never to take the risk that a stray bullet would end his life prematurely, leaving behind a wife and children who depended upon him.

  The decision made all those years ago now weighed heavily on him. Up until now, it hadn’t been a problem. He’d dated on and off, enjoying casual relationships when they presented themselves. He appreciated the company of women and had been largely unconcerned when none of those relationships ever moved to the next level.

  His decision never to have a family wasn’t an issue. It was just the way it would be. He’d deliberately dated women who felt the same way. Katie Leeds was a prime example.

  And then he met Zara.

  Everything about her was different. From the outset, before a word was spoken, he’d been drawn to her—felt connected to her. The thought of dating her casually and then leaving her to move on, following what was by now a very familiar pattern, tore at him. The thought that she’d move on disquieted him even more. He wanted to bellow in anger and denial when he considered that; he wanted her for his own. But that would break the promise he’d made to himself and he didn’t know if he had the courage to do that.

  But did he have the strength to let her go?

  With a groan of frustration, he threw himself on his side and closed his eyes, willing sleep to overtake him. Instead, his mind crowded with more images of Zara: the touch of her hand, the sound of her voice, the smell
of her intoxicating scent. She was everywhere and it was driving him crazy.

  He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He could probably call her and tell her Olivia had been found and was safe and well. Michael had already made a call to the AG, but Lane had promised Zara he’d let her know how things went. A call wouldn’t necessarily mean he was instigating anything beyond the investigation. He was merely keeping his word. That was all.

  With that decision, he bounded out of bed. His heart beat fast as he strode back to the bathroom, retrieved his cell from his pants pocket and keyed in her number.

  * * *

  Zara pulled the door to her sister’s bedroom closed behind her and made her way to her room a little farther down the hall. After her father had given her the news of Olivia’s rescue, she’d headed straight upstairs to tell Brittany. Despite the early hour, her sister had been awake, watching the television with the sound muted. Brittany had been overwhelmed with relief and gladness at the news and had insisted Zara tell her every detail, but Zara didn’t have more to offer.

  Her father had taken the call from the superintendent of Lane’s unit and had done little more than pass on the information that Olivia was safe and well and after being checked over by paramedics, was now back home with her parents.

  For the first time in her life, Zara had called in sick. Her boss had expressed his surprise and enquired about her health, but she remained purposefully vague with the details. He’d find out soon enough.

  She’d been disappointed when Lane didn’t call with the news, like he’d promised. She’d checked her phone every few minutes and made sure it was fully charged, but there’d been nothing. Hours later, there was still no word from him.

  With a sigh, she opened the door to her room and closed it quietly behind her. No doubt there had been a mountain of paperwork and other details to be attended to by the investigating officer of such a high-profile case. Although she hadn’t yet caught a sniff of it on the news, that would certainly change over the next few hours. It was too much to hope it wouldn’t become public knowledge. She hoped, when it did, that her bosses at Breakers would understand.

  With another heavy sigh, Zara made her way over to her bed and flopped down on it. The last couple of nights sleep had eluded her and she was more than weary now. Adrenaline had kept her awake and on edge with thoughts of Lane and Olivia at times pushing her close to the edge.

  But now, it was over and she gave herself permission to feel relief that things had worked out—for him and for the Munros. Over the coming weeks and months, they could put the episode behind them and do their best to move forward and rebuild their lives.

  The news that Olivia was safe had certainly revived Brittany’s spirits. She’d wanted to call her friend right away, but Zara had gently cautioned against it, telling her Olivia would need a little time alone with her family to come to terms with the ordeal she’d endured and the realization that it finally was over. Brittany nodded her understanding, her eyes wide and solemn and had seemed content to wait.

  The sound of her phone ringing jerked Zara from her reverie. Tugging it from the pocket of her shorts, her heart skipped a beat when she recognized Lane’s number. With shaking fingers, she drew in a deep breath and answered the call.

  “H-hello?”

  “Zara, it’s Lane.” His familiar, smooth tones glided over her senses, leaving her breathless and shivery.

  “Lane, it’s…it’s good to hear from you. Dad told me about what happened; that you found Olivia. Congratulations, that’s fantastic news.”

  “Yes, thank you. I’m…I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. I’ve been snowed under since it went down.”

  She smiled and stretched out on the bed. It was just as she’d imagined. He’d been busy wrapping up the investigation. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to call.

  “Well, I appreciate you taking the time to phone me now. I’m sure you still have plenty to do.”

  “Actually, I’m home. I finished up about an hour ago. The boss gave me the rest of the day off. Said I’d earned it.”

  “I’m sure you have. I’m guessing you haven’t managed much sleep these past few days.”

  “You’re right. With everything going on, sleep wasn’t high on the agenda.”

  There was a pause in their conversation. Zara listened to the sound of his quiet breathing on the other end of the phone. The silence extended. Nerves tightened her throat.

  “I can’t stop thinking about you.” His quiet, husky admission caused a tingling sensation to ignite low in her belly, soon followed by a radiating heat.

  “In fact, you’re all I can think about and it’s driving me crazy. It sounds like something out of a corny movie, but… I’ve never felt like this with anyone before. I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you. I want to know everything about you.”

  The fire inside her intensified. Her cheeks flushed from the heat. She squirmed on the bed and tried to speak. “I…uh… I don’t know what to say,” she managed.

  “Say that you know what I mean, that you feel the same way.”

  The quiet intensity in his voice, coupled with his raw honesty touched her. Neither of them were teenagers. There was no need to play games. He’d been upfront with her. He deserved the same.

  “I-I know what you mean. I can’t stop thinking about you, either,” she admitted just as quietly. “My stomach’s been twisted in knots all morning, waiting for you to call, wondering why you didn’t. We barely know each other. It seems too soon to be feeling like this, but I can’t help it.” Her breathing quickened at the thought of what she was about to reveal, but she was tired of playing it safe. The traumatic incident involving Olivia had shown her that. Life was too short to spend it being a passive spectator. She drew in another breath and continued.

  “Whenever you’re near, I can hardly think straight. I’m scared and nervous and excited all at the same time. I-I don’t know what it is or what to call it, but I… I want to see where it goes. For too long, I’ve played it safe and lived my life treading a trail, tried and true. Up until now, I’ve never wanted to deviate from the path I’d set myself. Now, I wonder every moment what it would be like to throw away my well-thought-out plans and embrace a little spontaneity; embrace a little fun.”

  Lane was quiet and for a moment, Zara wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. God, had she come across too strong? Had her frankness frightened him away?

  “I want to see you.” His quiet admission sent a surge of relief coursing through her, but nerves quickly followed on its heels. What was she thinking? They’d known each other for a little over three days. It was crazy.

  “When?” The words fell out of her mouth. She almost gasped in shock.

  “Now. I need you.”

  Heaven forbid, she needed him, too.

  After taking down his address, she bid him a hasty good-bye and bolted off the bed. Racing into the bathroom, she stared at her reflection. Her breath came fast. Her face was aflame. The eyes that stared back at her were the eyes of a stranger, wild and wide and glassy with anticipation and desire.

  She ran cool water into the sink and leaned over the basin to splash it over her heated skin. Lane needed her. And she was going to go to him. Blowing her breath out on a determined sigh, she dried her face on the hand towel and took out her hairbrush. After applying a couple of coats of mascara and adding a slash of dark red lipstick, she strode back into the bedroom and pulled open the doors to her closet.

  Wishing she had more time to deliberate, but keener to be with Lane, she chose a simple cotton dress in her favorite teal blue. It skimmed her curves and emphasized her waist, falling in a swirl of fabric to just below her knees.

  Quickly shucking off her shorts and T-shirt, she pulled the dress over her head and tightened the sash around her waist. She spotted a pair of wedges in the same shade of blue, and slipped them on her feet. Taking a moment to survey the results in the mirror, she patted her hair in place and
checked that her lipstick hadn’t smudged.

  Collecting her handbag from the nightstand, she picked up her phone and tossed it inside. Not in the mood to speak with her father, but unwilling to add to his concern by not letting anyone know where she was going, she tugged a notebook out of the drawer of her nightstand and scrawled him a quick note. With nerves and excitement vying for space inside her, she left the room in a rush.

  * * *

  Clayton pulled up the covers over his sleeping daughter and leaned over to press a kiss against her cheek. The relief of having her home, safe and sound, was overwhelming.

  After a check-up at the hospital, Olivia was declared healthy and had been released into the loving arms of her parents. They’d left the hospital together and had returned home. They’d spoken to her in gentle tones about the ordeal, but she’d shared very little with them, other than to apologize over and over again.

  It saddened Clayton to know that his daughter felt it was her fault. He swore quietly under his breath that he’d do whatever it took to convince her she wasn’t to blame. With a last glance at her slumbering form, he turned and left the room, leaving the door open as Olivia had requested.

  He found Ellie seated on the couch in the living room. Lines of weariness had etched themselves onto her face and dark shadows colored the skin beneath her eyes. She looked as haggard as he felt and his heart turned over at the thought of what they’d been through.

  He took a seat beside her and heard her soft sigh. Looking across at her, he caught a glimpse of fresh tears. He shuffled closer and reached for her.

  “It’s over, sweetheart. Please don’t cry. We got her back. Our little girl’s safe and sound and unharmed. Please don’t cry.”

  His gentle words appeared to unleash an avalanche of emotion in the woman he held in his arms. Ellie’s shoulders shook with barely controlled grief. Clayton pressed kisses against her hair and held her close, knowing her reaction was a normal response to the release of the pressure both of them had suffered since Olivia’s disappearance.

 

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