For the Right Reasons

by Kara Lennox

  His stomach churned, though, at the thought of parting with Bree.

  * * *

  BREE TOOK SOME vacation time, and for once her boss was completely understanding. Whether he actually cared about her welfare or he just didn’t want to chance Bree bringing all kinds of negative publicity to the hospital by being murdered at work, she didn’t know. But she’d take it. She doubted she could be focused and sharp enough to perform emergency medicine anyway.

  Staying at Daniel’s was like vacationing at a four-star resort—she didn’t have to worry about anything. Not only did Daniel provide her with every toiletry and cosmetic item she could possibly want or need, her room had come complete with a closet full of clothes in her size and dresser drawers filled with lingerie, pajamas, socks, scarves, gloves, you name it. She was now more fashionably—and expensively—dressed than she’d ever been in her life.

  If she needed exercise, she could walk around the beautifully manicured grounds or take advantage of the workout room in the basement, complete with sauna and whirlpool.

  Daniel had lots of people to take care of his various needs—a barber and a masseuse who made house calls, a solicitous personal assistant and, of course, a full kitchen staff.

  The degree of luxury and pampering far surpassed anything she’d experienced. Her parents were considered one of the “first families” of Tuckerville. They drove luxury cars, had a country club membership and took exotic vacations. But even they would have been shocked at Daniel’s level of wealth. He owned his own string of polo ponies, for God’s sake.

  Yet he wasn’t a snob. He and his wife, Jamie, the district attorney of Houston, were some of the most gracious people she’d ever met, treating her more like family than a guest.

  She felt as if she ought to be doing something more proactive. She was so much in the habit of devoting her every spare minute to taking some kind of action to help Kelly’s cause or at least thinking about what her next step could be. But for the first time in a long time, she had nothing to do. Finally, someone else was working toward the same goal. Daniel had said that while he appreciated her willingness to help, none of his people wanted to have to worry about her safety while she was out and about. She understood the wisdom of staying behind locked gates even if she didn’t particularly like the isolation.

  It might have been easier to take if she knew what was going on. Eric had undoubtedly turned over those DNA samples from their three suspects to Beth. How long did DNA processing take? It used to be weeks back in the old days, but she thought it could be done pretty quickly now. And what about the physical evidence from the Hollings County case? Had it arrived yet?

  She was ashamed to admit she was also hungry for any contact with Eric. She missed MacKenzie, too.

  She’d convinced herself this wasn’t the right time for her and Eric. But was there ever a “right time” for anything? If you were lucky enough to stumble on someone so perfect, someone you could forge a deep connection with, wasn’t it stupid to walk away because you were afraid things wouldn’t go smoothly?

  Deep down maybe she feared she wasn’t strong enough to make a relationship work.

  Eric and MacKenzie had been abandoned once. They needed a wife and mother who could go the distance this time.

  And yet no relationship, not even one between the two healthiest, most stable people in the world, came with ironclad guarantees.

  As she sipped her coffee at the breakfast table on the fifth day of her enforced vacation, she decided to talk to Eric, open up to him about her fears and doubts. If her worries about her own fitness as a potential mate and mother gave him cold feet, she would have her answer.

  “Bree, you’re unusually quiet this morning,” Daniel commented.

  “I’m just wondering when I can go back to having a normal life,” she said wistfully. Her normal, sterile life with nothing but work to fulfill her. She’d once thought that would be enough.

  “We’re having a staff meeting this morning. Usually I attend via video conferencing, but today I thought I’d join everybody in person. Would you like to go with me? It will be perfectly safe. My limo has bulletproof glass and a driver trained by the Secret Service. And the Project Justice office... Well, let’s just say no one gets past Celeste.”

  Bree smiled, recalling the foundation’s formidable receptionist, who apparently did far more than merely “receive” visitors. “I would love to come.” Her heart thrummed as she thought about seeing Eric again. It wasn’t the teenage-crush type of excitement she remembered from when she first started seeing Kelly at age sixteen. This was more mellow, a warm acknowledgment of the connection they shared. Less like anticipating a hot-fudge sundae and more like knowing she was about to sip a fine burgundy wine.

  A few minutes later Bree found herself in the back of Daniel’s limo. The last time she’d ridden in such luxury was at her junior prom, and then she’d been sharing the car with several of her girlfriends and their dates, with the stereo blasting out rock music.

  This experience wasn’t quite the same. Instead of guzzling booze smuggled from her parents’ liquor cabinet and listening to pulse-pounding guitars blasting from the speakers, she sipped Kona coffee from a travel mug while music from a string quartet surrounded her and Daniel.

  “Is this case solvable, do you think?” She realized she ought to take advantage of these few minutes she had with Daniel.

  “Philomene’s murder, you mean? There’s no such thing as a perfect crime. It’s true that a body submerged in water for several days isn’t ideal. But there’s still a ton of evidence to go through.

  “The question is, does the Becker County crime lab have the equipment and expertise to decipher the clues? Or will they muck it up? The sheriff is unfortunately not anxious for any help. He wants to solve this murder on his own.”

  “And what about the bomb at my apartment? Solvable?” She knew in her heart it was all connected. Pull one thread out and the whole scarf would unravel. They just needed one thread—one!

  “At least the ATF is involved in that investigation. If anyone can figure it out, they can.”

  “But it’s not like our bomber blew up an entire building or even injured anyone,” Bree pointed out. “Will they devote that much time and effort to it?”

  “They take bombers very seriously. Let this one get away, and his next bomb might take out a twenty-story building or a jumbo jet. I’ve been assured they’re analyzing every scrap of evidence. Probably digging into every aspect of your past, too, well beyond what they’ve asked you about.”

  She shrugged. “Let them dig.”

  The limo pulled into the secure garage behind the historic brick building. Daniel’s driver hustled them both from car to door, subtly placing his body between them and any threat that might come from the other cars parked there. She would hate to have to live with this degree of paranoia every day as Daniel did. No wonder he’d developed agoraphobia, though apparently he had overcome it to some degree.

  The conference room was abuzz with animated conversations, the smell of coffee and a plate of pastries that made Bree wish she hadn’t eaten such a large breakfast. She scanned the people in the room for Eric, but there was no sign of him.

  She did find Joe Kinkaid, however. “Joe. Do you know where Eric is?”

  Joe glanced at the clock on the wall. “I’m sure he’ll be here shortly. Sometimes getting the munchkin off to school can take more time than anyone plans for.”

  Poor little MacKenzie, still so insecure about being separated from her father. Was that a problem that would follow her her whole life?

  Daniel got the meeting started promptly at nine. Bree listened attentively as several of the foundation’s top investigators gave progress reports on various cases, making liberal use of the huge video screen to project images from their smartphones or tablets. It was like having a f
ront-row seat watching one of those crime shows on TV, except this was real. These people were certainly passionate about their work and good at what they did.

  Finally it was Kinkaid’s turn to give a progress report on the Ralston case.

  “I’d hoped Eric would be here before I gave my report,” Joe said.

  “I got a text from him a while ago,” Daniel said. “Apparently his car got a flat tire overnight. I thought he would be here by now, but he’s not, so go with what you’ve got.”

  Bree relaxed slightly. A flat tire. Nothing terrible. Eric would probably be here any minute. She listened as Joe related the latest developments. Everyone knew about the bomb, of course, because it had been on the news. But a lot had happened since then. As the minutes stretched on and Eric failed to appear, Bree started feeling unsettled again.

  Eric was always prompt. It wasn’t like him to be more than an hour late for a meeting. Where the hell was he?

  * * *

  “MACKENZIE, COME ON!” Eric called up the stairs. “We’re already really, really late.”

  He should have just changed the damn tire himself. Waiting for the auto club had been a mistake, as the fifteen minutes they’d promised to arrive in had turned into forty-five. And then the guy who’d come to change the tire had had no clue what he was doing, and Eric had ended up helping him—and getting dirt on his white shirt, which was what he’d been trying to avoid in the first place.

  “I’ll go see what’s keeping her,” Elena said, running up the stairs.

  Lord only knew. Yesterday morning she’d turned the bathroom sink into a Barbie doll hot tub when she was supposed to be eating breakfast.

  Elena came back downstairs almost immediately, looking bewildered. “She’s not there.”

  “Maybe she’s in my room.”

  “No, I looked in all the rooms.”

  Alarm slithered up Eric’s spine. “Maybe she went out to the tire swing.” The swing had turned out to be a big hit with MacKenzie. Since the backyard had a high privacy fence, he’d been known to let her go out there by herself, but she usually asked for permission before going outside.

  Eric strode to the back door and stepped out onto the porch. “MacKenzie? Where are you? We’re late—we need to go!”

  Nothing.

  Elena met him at the door as he returned inside. “I can’t find her downstairs, either.”

  “Could she be waiting in the car?” Maybe she’d slipped out the door when he was dealing with the auto club paperwork.

  They both went out to look. No MacKenzie.

  Back inside, they searched again. “MacKenzie!” Eric bellowed. No matter where in the house she was hiding, she would be able to hear him. “This is no time for hide-and-seek. You come out this instant or you’ll be punished!” God, he never punished MacKenzie. She was eager to please and never disobeyed.

  “Did she seem worried about going to school today?” Eric asked Elena.

  “No. She went right out with you the first time you tried to leave.”

  “Elena, what the hell’s going on?”

  “Let’s search the house again, then outside. She wouldn’t leave the property by herself, would she?”

  “I don’t think so.” MacKenzie wasn’t by any stretch an adventurous or rebellious child.

  They had just resumed their search when Eric’s phone rang. Probably someone at the office wondering where the hell he was. He was missing the weekly staff meeting. “Eric Riggs,” he answered distractedly in between calling for his daughter and looking under furniture and in closets.

  “Missing something?”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ERIC WENT COLD. “Who is this?”

  “Never mind that. If you want your daughter back safely, you’ll do exactly as I say. Do not call the police. Do not tell anyone except Dr. Johnson. I assume she’s with you?”

  “What do you want? If you harm one hair on my daughter’s head, I will hunt you down like an animal and—”

  “Simmer down and listen,” the voice growled. It didn’t sound natural; it had been electronically altered. “Wait to hear from me. When next I call, I’ll have very specific instructions for how to get your daughter back.”

  “If it’s money you want, I don’t have any. MacKenzie is the heir to some money, but she doesn’t have it now.”

  “Disobey my orders, even a little, and I’ll send MacKenzie back in little bitty pieces.”

  “You do that and you’ll be—”

  But the caller had hung up.

  Eric’s head was spinning. He wanted to hit something—someone. But he had to calm down. MacKenzie needed him. He took a few deep breaths. Better.

  There was no way he was going to just sit by and passively wait for the kidnapper’s next move. But he was terrified of angering the kidnapper by refusing to follow directions. It didn’t sound as if the guy was a sexual predator, more that he intended to demand some kind of ransom. Eric had to pretend to go along so the guy wouldn’t get pissed off and take out his frustration on his hostage.

  He could hear Elena’s footsteps coming up the stairs. “Eric? Did you find her?”

  She entered MacKenzie’s bedroom, where Eric had been searching when the phone call came in. He didn’t even remember sitting down on the bed, but there he was.

  “Eric, what’s wrong?”

  He had no choice but to tell Elena. “She’s been kidnapped. Someone just called, said he would call back and tell me what to do to get her back.”

  “Oh, Eric.”

  “He said not to call the police.”

  “They always say that. But we’re not going to call the police. We’re calling Project Justice. Come with me.”

  Numb with shock and terrified down to his marrow, he followed Elena downstairs.

  “When I was working for Daniel, I went to a special school where they train you what to do in the event of kidnapping or hostage taking. The first rule is that you never try to handle it by yourself. Daniel will know what to do.”

  “Elena, he said he would...he would...cut her—”

  “They always say that. But just in case, we’ll take precautions so there’s no way he could know you’ve called anyone.” Elena led him to the kitchen and opened a drawer. “When I first quit working for Daniel, I got one of those cheap throwaway phones. There are a few minutes left on it.” She scrolled through the contacts. “There’s Daniel’s private cell number. Call him.”

  Gradually Eric felt his senses returning. He took the phone and waited for Daniel to answer.

  “Elena?”

  “Daniel, it’s me, Eric. MacKenzie’s been kidnapped.” He told his boss exactly what had happened and when. He related the caller’s words as closely as possible. “This has to be connected to the case,” he concluded. “Otherwise, why would they have told me I could confide in Bree and no one else?”

  “Agreed. He must not know who is in the house with you. He doesn’t have eyes on it right now. He knew Bree was staying with you last week but he doesn’t have current information. So we’re probably dealing with one guy, no helpers.”

  Eric was impressed with Daniel’s cool, logical conclusions. The guy might have inherited a fortune, but he was also smart enough not only to hold on to his wealth but to build on it.

  “So he might just assume Bree is living with me, therefore she already knows.... No, that’s not right. He said I could tell Bree.”

  “We don’t have time to argue semantics. I’ve got to get Mitch busy tapping into your phone so we can trace where the call came from. The kidnapper is no doubt using a throwaway phone, but even those sometimes can yield information. Meanwhile, on the off chance our guy does have eyes on your house, I’m sending Bree in. She’ll have an untraceable cell phone we can use for communications. We’ll s
et up a situation room here. Give me a few—” The call cut off; Elena’s throwaway phone had run out of time.

  “What did he say?” Elena asked anxiously.

  Eric paced the small kitchen while relating the conversation to his sister-in-law. His nerves felt raw, his stomach about to reject the Cocoa Puffs he’d had for breakfast.

  How could this happen to him? Hadn’t his family suffered enough? His wife murdered, himself imprisoned for three years for something he didn’t do, Elena beaten in an attempted abduction by the man who had killed Tammy.

  Now, just when MacKenzie was starting to smile again and Eric felt he might be able to return to a normal life after all...this.

  “MacKenzie won’t survive this.”

  “Eric, of course she will! Whoever this is, he’s not interested in hurting her. He wants something from you. You’ll appear to give it to him and you’ll get your daughter back. Daniel is very, very good at this sort of thing.”

  He nodded. Daniel would do everything he could do, of course, but what if it wasn’t enough?

  * * *

  WHEN MACKENZIE WOKE UP, she was in a dark place. She tried to move, but her arms and legs wouldn’t obey her. Something was tied around her hands.

  She didn’t like the dark. Her eyes filled with tears as fear welled up in her chest. “Daddy? Daddy!”

  Usually if she woke up in the night after a bad dream, all she had to do was call once, and Daddy would come to her. He would wrap her in his big arms and hug her tight and tell her again and again that she wasn’t alone, that she was safe, that dreams couldn’t hurt her.

  This wasn’t a dream. At least, she didn’t think so. And she wasn’t in her bed. She was...in a car. She could hear the motor and feel the bumps in the road. But why was it so dark?

  She tried hard to remember. She’d gotten ready for school, she’d had her breakfast—Cocoa Puffs with strawberries—and then she and Daddy had gone out to his car. She liked it when Daddy took her to school, which he did most days. She still didn’t like saying goodbye to him, but at school, with other kids around her getting out of their cars and saying goodbye to their moms and dads, it seemed a little easier.