by Hoss, Sarah
Abigail’s quiet voice spoke from behind him. “What is the timeline the kidnappers gave you?”
Malcolm turned sharply and glared at her. “No. That’s not what I meant. Six months ago, the doctors said Keltie wouldn’t live out the year without treatment. Even then, there would be no guarantees. I can’t afford to waste any more time.”
Chapter 16
Abigail sat back in her chair and stared out the window. Anger had coursed through her veins at the predicament she’d found herself in. Kidnapped, tied to a chair, terrified for her well-being. But as she listened to Malcolm tell his story, she found her heart breaking for him, despite the circumstances.
She ran the events through her mind. Malcolm’s wife gets sick, and he needs money for the treatment so he gambles, thinking it will be quick and easy. Then he gets himself into trouble and steals a priceless heirloom to raise money to get his dying wife back after she has been kidnapped. And so on and so on. And here she sat, helpless in a motel room.
Abigail glanced around the room. Ugly tan walls were decorated with even uglier knock-off paintings. The curtains were striped with brown, yellow, white, and orange and they matched the bedspreads. Malcolm and Grant were over in the corner near the bathroom talking quietly. Two heads almost identical, nearly touching as they spoke of things that had happened.
So, where did this leave her? She didn’t want to be in this room anymore, yet she didn’t want to be away from Grant. So many thoughts and feelings had developed in the last two days. Excitement about seeing him, anger for having been lied to about this whole ordeal, and sadness at the inevitable ending. Grant was a good man. He wasn’t angry at Malcolm for deceiving him. Instead, he was going to help him. As any kind, generous, brave man should be.
Stretching out her arms and legs in front of her, she arched her back and sighed. She was tired, stiff, and wanted nothing more than a long soak in the bathtub. Glancing outside, she saw that the sky was turning the prettiest colors of pink and orange as the sun set. She bit back a groan. She’d been in this room for an entire day.
Grant approached her then he held out his hand and she took it, standing.
“Malcolm and I have some things to work on. Would you like to go home?” Grant’s blue eyes searched hers.
She nodded. “More than anything.”
John stepped forward. “I’d be happy to drive her for you.”
She peered over at John and smiled. “Thank you.”
Grant placed his hands on each side of her face. She leaned into one of them.
“I’m truly sorry for everything that has happened,” he said.
“Me, too.” She paused and looked down at his lips before meeting his gaze again. “Will we see each other again?”
Grant smiled and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I would like that very much.”
She glanced over at Malcolm. “You all be safe and I pray that you get to Keltie soon.”
“I thank you for that, ma’am.” He stepped forward. “Please forgive me.”
She reached out to touch his face. “It’s all right. I promise.”
With a curt nod, Malcolm left, taking John with him. She glanced back at Grant. Alone and safe at last. They stood arm-in arm and when she turned back to him after everyone left, he placed his other hand into her hair at the back of her head and brought her in for a kiss.
She placed her hands on his waist. His kiss was gentle but held promise. As if he wanted to reassure her that he would be back. She needed this, his unspoken assurance and kissed him back with a promise of her own.
Stepping back, he held out his hand. “Give me your cell phone.”
“There isn’t a lot of battery left.” She reached into her back pocket and handed her cell to him. “Why do you want it?”
“To give you my phone number. I want you to let me know when you arrive home safely.”
“I will.” She took the phone back and headed for the door. Stopping, she looked back one last time. “Please be careful.”
“I will.”
“Promise.”
He smiled. “Aye, I promise.”
She closed the door behind her and searched for John. She found him with Malcolm in the parking lot near a car. As she headed toward them, her thoughts stayed behind with Grant. Silently, she said a prayer for their safety.
“I’m ready when you are.”
Malcolm patted John on the back, then turned and said good-bye to her. As she and John pulled out of the driveway, the car turned left and headed home. Sleep was not going to come easy. Twenty-four hours had passed since this whole thing had begun. She was on edge, and as she rubbed the back of her neck, her mind kept playing out all of the scenarios that Grant and Malcolm could get into.
Lost in her thoughts, ten minutes passed by before she realized they were not headed in the direction of her house.
“You missed a turn back there but if you catch the second right up here, you can still get to my house without having to back track.” She searched the landscape for the familiar restaurant. No sound came from the driver and he never turned as she told him to.
“Where are we going?” She gripped the door handle as she searched his face for any sign of what he was thinking. She became nervous. Something didn’t add up.
“Please, where are you taking me?”
Before she could say anything else, he directed the car off to the side of the road. He leaned toward her and with one hand opened the glove compartment, pulling out a bottle and a rag. Heart pounding, she scooted as far back into her seat as she could and screamed. She knew what he was going to do.
She reached for the door handle and tried to get out, but the door was locked. Her fingers fought to open the lock but in her hysteria of trying to get out and not be attacked, she was just fumbling around.
John placed the rag over the head of the bottle and tipped twice. Then he placed the damp cloth over her mouth and nose, wrestling with her to keep it on. Chloroform was odorless and colorless, and could be deadly. As her eyes grew heavy, all she remembered was a voice far off in the distance saying, “Nothing personal, lass.”
Chapter 17
Grant paced back and forth in front of the motel room, uneasy about what was going to take place today. Ramsey had landed that morning, bringing with him everything Grant had asked for. He felt better having one more man on his side. Besides, he never had any intention of giving these men any more money, but he was going to see them go to jail and get Keltie back. He rolled the plan over and over in his head, trying to make sure there were no loopholes so that nothing would go wrong.
He should have called the police and had this done and over with, but he couldn’t. Not yet.
He rolled his neck to ease the tension then tilted his head to the sky. He brought up images of Abigail, needing a distraction. He remembered sitting with her at the restaurant. They had a great time getting to know each other. He loved the way she laughed. Not just because her laugh was contagious and something she did with her whole face. No. Her laugh wasn’t fake.
Abigail was everything he had hoped she would be. The months they’d been talking, he had created this woman in his mind and he was afraid the real Abigail wouldn’t add up. But she did, and his heart was glad.
On the flight over here, she had plagued his mind, and he’d been nervous. Nervous to meet her because he hoped she was someone he could get to know and nervous because she had the shield he’d been searching for all along.
Abigail was beautiful, smart, and they shared the same interests. Dinner had been great. They’d barely touched their food for never having a lull in conversation. That was important to him. He wanted someone he could talk to.
He reached into his back pocket and slid out his cell phone. Why hadn’t she called him? Peering in through the window, he saw Graham
and Christina sitting at the table discussing details. Malcolm exited the restroom having just showered and waved to him. He waved back.
A gentle wind blew and he found the fresh air soothing, common and reliable in this unpredictable world. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Abigail’s number and dialed it. Orchestra music serenaded him. Kicking at the parking block, he stopped when the ringing stopped.
His heart lightened. “Abigail, it’s Grant.”
No answer.
“Abigail?”
“Grant?”
Something was wrong. He noticed a hint of nervousness in her voice.
“Are you okay? You sound funny?”
He heard Abigail say no, before there was a moment of silence.
“Abigail,” he hollered, anticipation gripping him. Please let her answer. Please let her be all right.
“Abigail, answer me.”
“Abigail is busy at the moment,” a man’s voice said over the phone.
Grant turned and punched the door, anger ripping through him in waves. Not Abigail.
Malcolm opened the door, dressed only in his jeans and shoes.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered.
Grant pointed to the phone, whispering. “They have Abigail.” His blood began to boil.
Malcolm placed his hand over the bottom of the phone to block his voice. “Do you recognize a voice?”
Grant shook his head.
“Place the cell on ‘speaker.’ Maybe I can tell who the man is.”
“Put Abigail on the phone,” Grant demanded. There was something about the voice that tugged at the back of his mind. As if he should recognize the bastard who had Abigail.
“I don’t think so, Mr. MacFie. You are in no place to demand anything from me.”
Malcolm touched his arm. Shock etched across his face. “It’s the boss, the man who took Keltie.”
“Is Abigail all right?”
An impatient sigh. “For now.”
“Why do you have her? She isn’t a part of this.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. You made her a part of this.”
“If you hurt her, I swear—”
“You will not be threatening me.” The bastard sounded annoyed. “Now, I want my money, and I want it now. I’m done playing games with Malcolm. His little scheme is taking too long. His wife isn’t looking so good.”
“You fucking bastard,” Malcolm screamed. He ran his hands through his hair, gripped it, and pulled as he growled out his anger.
“Ah, there you are. I knew you would be listening in. This ends tonight. You will meet my men at the loading docks behind the abandoned warehouse on Sixth and Perkin’s street. Ten o’clock. If you’re late, I will kill Malcolm’s wife. If you don’t show or bring the police, I will kill Grant’s woman.”
“So help me, when I get my hands on you,” Grant snarled.
“You won’t. But I have wondered why you never asked me how I got Abigail.”
Both men glanced at each other.
“How?” But as he said it, Grant knew. John. He was the one who drove her, and he wasn’t here now. “John.”
“Aye, he’s been working for me all along. You see, it’s all about control, and I am always in control.” There was a pause, and for a moment, Grant thought the call had ended. “I’m looking forward to this, Chief Grant MacFie.”
Grant flexed and unflexed his hands, anger pouring through his veins like molten lava, red hot and thick.
“You will meet me as I stated earlier and there better be no screw-ups. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to the lasses.”
The phone went silent, and Grant pulled it away from his head to stare at the front as if all the answers were written there.
“Grant, I’m so sorry.” Malcolm placed his hand on Grant’s arm. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”
Coming out of his stupor, Grant peered at his cousin. “Aye, I know.” Grant placed the phone in his pocket, then walked over and leaned against the motel wall. Abigail. What had he done, getting her involved in this? He hadn’t meant to. Everything had seemed so innocent. Yet, he had never truly had full knowledge of what was going on. If Malcolm had just been honest with him in the first place, none of this would have happened. He wanted badly to be angry and Malcolm. To walk over and punch him in the face, but he couldn’t. He knew his cousin too well and knew he never meant for any of this to happen either. Instead, he turned and punched the motel wall. Blood began to ooze from the scratched knuckles and he ignored the burst of pain.
Malcolm came to stand next to him.
“There is something, though, that just doesn’t seem to add up. Why all of this? What is the real motive here? This could have been taken care of so easily.” He turned and stared at his cousin. “I don’t get it.”
Malcolm shook his head. “I don’t know.” He sighed. “We have a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it in. We’d best get started.”
Chapter 18
The wind blew gently through Grant’s hair, and he took a moment to breath. Outwardly, he suspected he looked as if he was made of steel, but inwardly, he was nervous. Never in his life had he been a part of something so crazy, so dangerous, so . . .
His thoughts had been running wild ever since he hung up the phone with the ‘boss.’ So many questions. Who was he? What was this about? How would this turn out?
He tucked in his shirttail that wasn’t untucked to begin with and fiddled with his belt that had nothing wrong with it. He wondered for a brief moment if this was how boxers felt before a fight or soldiers felt before going into war. That moment of uncertainty.
He stood in the parking lot of the warehouse and waited. Graham and Ramsey were stationed out of sight with guns poised and ready. Christina was also out of sight with the phone ready and a gun of her own, just in case. She’d been hunting enough in Scotland to be of use here in the fight. He prayed they wouldn’t need her. There were enough women involved in this as it was.
Malcolm walked up with the briefcase, set it on the ground between the two of them, and waited.
Grant glanced over at Malcolm, then placed a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed. “Is your head on straight?”
“Aye.”
“Good, because I need you and I know when they bring Keltie out, that it will be hard to stay focused.”
Malcolm kicked a pebble. “Don’t worry about me.”
A regular door to the left of the massive warehouse door opened and two men exited.
“Follow us.”
They turned and walked back in through the door.
Grant glanced at Malcolm. Tapping his leg three times, he bent and picked up the briefcase and proceeded to the door. The signal had been given.
Inside, the open space smelled of cardboard boxes and dust. Shelf after shelf sat in rows about ten feet high. It wasn’t a large warehouse as Grant would have thought, but still big enough to hide a number of people. He searched the entire room trying to spot anything important. Mainly, Keltie and Abigail.
The two men that led the way into the building had disappeared but now returned. The one on the left held Abigail by the arm, her hands having been tied together in the front. A gag was placed over her mouth and a gun was held to her side making his heart lurch. He hated seeing her like this and knowing it was his fault she was here made his heart sink.
The man to the right, he recognized. John had Keltie cradled in his arms. A third man approached from the office in the corner bringing a chair. John placed Keltie onto the cushioned seat. She appeared to be well taken care of, but it was obvious she was weak. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Malcolm stiffen.
Grant surveyed the men again. Three-to-two weren’t the best odds. After placing Keltie on the chair, John approached.
After taking the gun out of Malcolm’s waistband, he then came to Grant. Their eyes met and never wavered from each other as John searched him. He returned to stand next to Keltie.
Grant took a few steps closer. He wanted to see for himself that Abigail was unharmed. The bald man standing next to Abigail put his hand up, and he stopped. A door shut from somewhere in the back and he glanced around. Turning to Malcolm, he scrunched his eyebrows in questions and received a shrug in response. A man entered from between rows five and six to come stand near the group. He must be the boss. The arrogance that radiated off of him filled the room.
