She tried to put an arm around the girl, but she wasn’t having it. Patty whirled so fast she nearly knocked Jenna back down the steps.
“Patty, watch it!”
“This is your fault,” she sobbed. “All your fault.”
Indignation welled up. “Hey, you’re the one who messed with my phone and told Danny you’d meet him. So don’t go blaming this on me.”
She stomped back down the stairs, wanting to blister the air with curses. Instead, she clamped her teeth into her lower lip and held on to her fragile control.
Veronica and Julienna just sat there watching all the commotion.
Jenna stopped and asked, “How do you guys just . . . sit?”
“Not much choice. When you’ve been locked up as long as we have, you just kind of . . . make do. Adjust.”
“I’d go insane.”
“Or that.”
Wondering if she was joking, Jenna looked into Veronica’s eyes. She wasn’t. “Who brings the meals?”
“Usually Danny. Occasionally, the nurse, Crystal. I’ve seen this other woman every once in a while, but don’t know who she is.”
Jenna paced, thinking. What would her dad do in this situation?
First of all, he wouldn’t have been dumb enough to land in this situation, but if he did, what would he do?
Figure out how to get out of it. Patty came back down the steps and brushed past Jenna to fling herself across the nearest bed.
Jenna ignored her, thinking. “What would he do if I got sick? If I were bleeding or dying and needed medical attention?”
Veronica eyed her. “If it was beyond Crystal’s ability to help you and you weren’t pregnant yet—or you’re an unplanned complication causing him trouble, he’d probably just let you die.”
Lovely.
Jenna’s gaze landed on Veronica’s stomach.
“What?” Veronica asked, wariness oozing from her.
“What if it were you?”
The girl wasn’t slow. “If it were beyond Crystal’s expertise, he’d get me medical help. Somehow.”
“Because he’s got a lot of money riding on Junior there, I’d bet.”
Veronica nodded slowly, dark eyes flashing. “I hadn’t thought about it. Actually have done everything not to think about it. But yeah, you’re right.”
“Okay, here’s the plan.”
28
By midnight, there’d been nothing new from any direction. Samantha paced as she took refuge in her apartment. They’d agreed to meet again at dawn. Connor had gone home to break the news to his parents about Jenna’s disappearance.
Jamie decided to stay at the hospital and watch over Tom, who hadn’t bothered to call his siblings to let them know what had happened. And had refused to allow anyone else to call them either.
“It’s not a big deal. I’ve been hurt a lot worse.”
Unfortunately, Tom hadn’t had a lot to offer in the way of leads on his attacker. He’d been surprised from behind, yanked from the vehicle as he’d stopped to get gas, and tossed to the ground. The assailant had jumped into the idling vehicle and taken off—with the car and Tom’s cell phone.
He explained that he managed to get to a pay phone and call the FBI office to get a trace on Jenna’s phone and a cab to get him back on the road. Once in the cab, he hadn’t had time to stop and find a way to contact Samantha and Connor.
Tomorrow, Samantha and Connor would retrace Tom’s steps to see if they could find someone who saw something. Until then, she might as well try to sleep.
Samantha’s phone rang. She looked at the clock: 12:40.
This wouldn’t be good.
With a sigh, she answered it.
“Hey, Jamie, what’s up?”
Hesitantly, worried, Jamie answered. “I . . . I’m not sure. I need you to come by the hospital tomorrow when you can, all right?”
“Sure, you want to tell me what’s wrong?”
“Well, that’s the problem, I’m not sure anything is wrong. But there may be. I just need a little more time to figure out for sure.”
“You know you’re being aggravatingly vague here.”
A small chuckle filtered through the line. “I know and I don’t mean to, but I wanted to catch you and ask you to stop by sometime tomorrow.”
“Not a problem. I’ll probably head over to the crime scene first, then come by. All right?”
“Thank you, Sam.”
The Agent grunted as he shifted and thought about how to handle the coming morning. Boss had already taken care of the girls. And Boss had told him not to worry about anything but covering his tracks.
He glanced at his cell phone sitting on the end table. An FBI operative had brought one by to replace the one he’d tossed to ensure he didn’t have it on him in case something went wrong. And boy, had something gone wrong. The only loose end was that he’d been stupid enough to say he’d called someone at the FBI to trace Jenna’s phone. Hopefully, no one would check that out. And if they did . . . well, he’d be long gone before then.
Calling Boss might have been a mistake too, but it couldn’t be helped. Too much money rode on this, and he needed Boss to care for the girls until he could get back there undetected.
Officers were guarding the warehouse while the CSU team searched it. He wracked his brain trying to think if there was any possible way someone could find the entrance to the underground room and locate the girls.
He didn’t think so. It had been especially made for the purpose it was being used for. Plan B. Fury stirred within him at the fact that Plan A had been disrupted. Everything had been going along so nicely.
Until Crystal’s betrayal.
But he’d taken care of her.
A scalpel to the throat had shut her up for good. He’d seen the news covering her death. But there’d been no mention of the basement in the house at the farm. No mention of her death being related to the missing girls. And no mention of her working at the doctor’s office where she’d made sure the girls he’d snatched were appropriate for their needs.
And he knew they knew.
The authorities were playing with their cards held tight against their chests, not offering much in the way of information about the investigation, but warning parents to keep tabs on their kids and admonishing teens not to meet strangers over the internet.
The Agent smiled for the first time that day.
But they never listened.
Because it could never happen to them.
At least that’s what they thought.
Until they met him.
And then he changed lives.
It was as simple as that.
Sunday morning, Samantha hated to skip church, but she had a case to solve. Her gut told her the end was in sight and she wanted to be there for Connor—however the ending played out.
She did take time to pause for about five minutes and have a heart to heart with God, asking for Jenna’s safety and Connor’s peace of mind. And that they would find the rest of the girls alive.
Then she slipped out the door into the still-dark morning, climbed in her car, and headed for the precinct. Jamie’s comment about checking into something surfaced in Samantha’s thoughts. She made a mental note to follow up on it—whatever it was, her sister had sounded worried.
Samantha made her way to the conference room where the task force would plan out the day. The crime scene guys should be on their way back to the scene to examine it more fully as soon as the sun made its appearance.
Entering the room, she pulled up short. Connor was already there, looking drawn and haggard. She doubted he’d slept the night before. Probably spent the wee hours of the morning going over all the evidence—or the lack thereof.
She laid a hand on his shoulder and he looked up. “How you doing?”
He released a sigh. “Hanging in there. Praying.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“So you don’t blame God for this? Feel like he’s out to get you?”
He flinched. “No. For some reason I don’t.”
“God’s grace is sufficient.”
“What?”
“It means don’t question it, just accept it, be thankful for it. He’s there with Jenna no matter what. He wouldn’t let her go through this alone. He won’t let you either.”
“That why he sent me you, huh?”
Shivers quivered through her. Not touching that one—yet. Later? Definitely worth exploring. The rest of the team filtered in and Samantha put her personal agenda on the back burner. “So, what’s the plan?”
Dakota set a folder in front of him as he took a seat. “The warehouse is owned by a corporation called Steam Liners. The corporation went out of business about a year ago, and the warehouse has been empty since.”
“Do you have the name of an individual?”
“Not yet. The information’s been buried pretty deep. I’ve got a contact gradually peeling back the layers. He should have me the information within a couple of hours.”
“Great.” Connor stood. “Call me when you get it, will you?”
“Sure. You need some help at the scene?”
“All the help I can get. I just have a feeling we’re missing something obvious.”
“Then let’s get out there and find it.”
Twenty minutes later, they stood on the fringes watching the crime scene unit do their thing. Connor ducked under the tape and Dakota followed him.
Samantha walked over to the single garage where Tom’s car had been found. Decidedly curious about what was bugging Jamie, she glanced at her watch. She considered pulling her phone out to call, then decided to give it a little more time. Jamie might not be up yet.
The car had already been moved to the lab, so she examined the area around it. The garage was small, not even really a garage, but more like a storage space that had been converted into a parking spot.
So, did that mean someone had come here often?
If so, what kind of business did that someone have in an empty warehouse?
Nothing good, that was for sure.
The single bulb hanging from the ceiling didn’t do much in the way of illumination, so she panned her flashlight over the walls. The floor.
Nothing.
Connor came up beside her. “Anything?” He added his light to hers.
“No. The car was here long enough to leak some oil.” She indicated the fresh wet stain on the dirty concrete floor.
Connor sat on his haunches. “Jake called me earlier. Nothing was found in the car except DNA and fingerprints belonging to Jenna and Tom. I keep feeling like I’m missing something.”
“I know. I’m right there with you on that one.”
He swept the beam back to the edge of the wall and stood. “What’s that?”
“What?”
“There. I caught a glint of something metal, I think.”
Samantha stepped carefully, following him over to the other side of the garage. He stooped and she heard his swiftly indrawn breath.
“What is it?”
He pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket. Using it to lift the object, he held it up for her to see.
She focused her flashlight on it. “A key chain.”
“Not just any key chain. Jenna’s.”
“What’s it doing here? She kept those on her backpack, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Wasn’t her backpack in the trunk of the car?”
“That’s what they said.”
“Then it was out of the car at one point.”
Connor studied the object, then said softly, “She fought him.”
“Why do you say that?”
“The ring’s bent.”
“A tug-of-war over the pack?”
“Probably. Jenna’s mom gave her those key chains. Keeping them with her was like keeping a part of her mother with her. She wouldn’t have given them up easily.”
“Let’s keep searching.”
The bathroom didn’t inspire Jenna. Although dingy and musty, it was clean enough only because of the girls’ efforts.
Think like your dad, Jenna.
All of his warnings, the six years of self-defense classes, games that included finding a weapon where none existed, came rolling through her mind in endless waves.
The towel rack.
The ceramic toilet bowl cover.
All possibilities. She’d slept last night in fits after dinner was delivered by the woman. Jenna hadn’t recognized her, and she hadn’t seen Danny since he’d dragged her down here. There’d been no sign of Crystal, the nurse the girls had told her about.
So, she’d curled up on one of the beds, forming plans and discarding them only to come back to the original idea she’d had earlier.
Soft music wafted from one of the other beds.
Veronica.
The girl had some pipes on her and sang constantly. Sang music about being rescued by her God, being saved by Jesus. Instead of mocking her, Jenna started listening. To the music, to the words, to the love. She thought about Samantha when Veronica sang. And Maria. And Bradley.
And her grandparents. Her heart ached at the thought of their suffering, wondering what happened to her. At her dad’s agony. Losing one more person he loved.
And he did love her. She knew that.
Um, God? I know we haven’t exactly been on good terms. And I guess that’s my fault. But do you think you could get us out of this so you and I could have a chance to get to know each other? Cuz I want to. Um, amen.
Patty had crawled into her mind somewhere and simply lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, her eyes vacant, hopeless. Jenna shook her head. Not her. She’d fight to the bitter end.
The bed.
Another idea took shape.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she wondered what time it was. She wanted this over with by breakfast.
One way or another.
Was she prepared to die?
For the first time, she seriously considered the fact that she might not make it. Might not live through this experience. Even in the car with Danny, she hadn’t allowed her mind to think along those lines.
But now . . .
Julienna snored softly. Veronica continued to sing.
And Jenna went to work.
The Agent ate his breakfast with an outward appearance of calm. On the inside, impatience clawed at him. He needed to get to the girls, to check on Veronica, but couldn’t get away from his current situation without raising eyebrows.
He had to play it low key.
Another bite of stiff eggs. Methodical chewing while he thought.
Boss was already telling him to get his act together and get his tail over to the warehouse. The cops were combing the place.
But it didn’t matter. They wouldn’t find the underground room. It was near the warehouse, true, but the way in was hidden from sight. However, Boss couldn’t manage the girls alone. Now that Crystal was dead, The Agent needed to do even more, help out until he could find someone to replace Crystal. Because no one could find out who Boss was or everything would come crashing down.
The girls would just have to be patient.
“You’ll never guess who the warehouse traced back to.”
Still combing the garage for every last piece of evidence he could find, Connor looked up from Jenna’s key chain to see Dakota at the entrance, blocking the sun, Stetson pulled low. His jeans rode low on his hips and his cell phone practically disappeared in the depths of his large hand.
“Who?”
“Our lawyer friend, Jefferson Abbott, who is one of the founders of Steam Liners Corporation.”
“Let’s arrest this dude as soon as he steps off his plane.”
“You’re assuming he’s coming back.”
“He’s coming back. He left too much here. I checked up on him again and the conference where he’s speaking is definitely legit. And according to his secretary, he’s also got several adoption cases that need to be wra
pped up in the next few days. He’s got a lot of money coming in over the next two weeks.”
“All right. Let’s nab him.”
“I had his bank records and everything pulled. I gotta tell you, other than that warehouse and basically all the evidence pointing to him, this guy comes across clean.”
Connor shot Dakota a dirty look. “That’s helpful.”
Dakota shrugged. “Sorry.”
“It’s not helping me find Jenna, though.”
And although Connor was doing a pretty good job of keeping his focus on the case, keeping his cool on the outside, the worry, fear, and continuous mental pictures of finding his daughter killed by some psycho boiled within him.
“Just telling you what I know.”
It was time. Jenna’s stomach told her it was breakfast time. The girls had agreed to the plan.
Well, most of them. Patty wasn’t too keen on the idea, but once she realized Jenna was going to do it whether she helped or not, she pitched in her muscle.
Sweat stood out on Veronica’s forehead, and she looked scared to death. That was okay. Jenna knew exactly how she felt. Patty paced and chewed all her fingernails down to the quick, reverting back to a childhood habit.
Hope and excitement stood out on Julienna’s face.
Jenna couldn’t believe no one had tried anything like this before. Wimps.
Then she felt bad. She was scared too.
“He killed Sydney, you know.”
Veronica’s soft voice filtered through the fog of Jenna’s scrambling thoughts. With a final grunt, she gave the bed one more push.
Jenna stood and wiped the sweat from her neck. It was hot. She hadn’t noticed the heat before. Ignoring Veronica’s statement, she asked, “Hey, how does the air circulate in here?”
The girls looked at each other, then Julienna and Veronica shrugged.
Stupified, Jenna just stared at them. Did these girls not ever go to the movies? Read novels? What was the deal?
Whatever. She didn’t have time to think about it.
Because the next person who came through that door was going to earn himself a bad headache.
29
Samantha pulled her phone out, ready to give Jamie a call, but a hand on her arm stopped her.
Too Close to Home Page 27
