Fatal Fallout

by Lara Lacombe

  Her curiosity piqued, Claire gently opened the closet door and crept across the room to the bedroom door. She took a step into the hall, pressing herself flat against the wall. She wanted to hear but was reluctant to stray too far from the relative safety of the closet alcove. If things went badly, she needed to be able to get back into the safe room quickly and without being detected.

  “He’s got Emily,” Thomas said, his voice tight and strained. She heard footsteps again and realized Thomas was likely the one doing the pacing. He must mean Victor, but who was Emily?

  “You can’t know that for sure.” That was James, calm and composed. Clearly, Thomas had called the other agent after speaking to Victor. Was he the only one here?

  “I do know!” There was a loud thud, which Claire imagined was Thomas’s fist hitting the wall. “My mother is lying injured in the hospital, and Jenny is sitting beside her right now. Emily is the only one unaccounted for—you know he’s got her.”

  “And I know that there’s nothing you can do about it right now,” James pointed out. “Valdez is on his way. He’s the best at working abductions.”

  “We’ve got to find her,” Thomas interrupted, desperation and fear lacing his tone.

  “We will,” James said firmly. “But running off half-cocked isn’t going to do anyone any good, least of all Emily.”

  There was silence from the other room. Although she didn’t know who Emily was, it was clear Thomas cared for her very much, and her heart ached for him and the despair she knew he was feeling. She took a step forward, intent on going to him, offering him comfort, but James’s next words made her freeze.

  “You know what he’s going to want.” It wasn’t a question. She heard Thomas sigh before he replied.

  “Yes. Claire.”

  “You’d do it, wouldn’t you? Trade her for Emily?”

  Another sigh. Then, quietly, “Yes.”

  Claire sucked in a breath, the word hitting her like a blow. She felt as though she’d been dunked in ice water, the shock of it making her numb. Her legs gave out and she slid helplessly down the wall, landing with a soft thump on the floor.

  Thomas would betray her. He’d give her back to that monster, the man who was trying to kill her. He wouldn’t have to try very hard, she thought, shaking her head. Thomas was apparently willing to hand her over on a silver platter.

  How could I have been so wrong? She’d thought Thomas had feelings for her. His behavior at the hospital and again today had certainly seemed like that of a man who was interested in her. Or just interested in getting into my pants. Maybe that was it after all. He was attracted to her, but only wanted her for sex. Figures.

  The realization stung, although she really should have anticipated it. Her own mother had seen her as a burden, not a daughter. Why would Thomas be any different? She certainly wasn’t any less trouble now. He’d already been hurt trying to protect her, and the threat wasn’t over yet. If he wasn’t tired of dealing with her and her constant need for protection, he would be soon. Better to have a reality check now, before she let herself get any more attached to him.

  “It won’t come to that,” she heard James say, as if he was trying to reassure Thomas. Like Thomas was the one who needed reassurance! I’m being guarded by a man who wouldn’t hesitate to hand me over to a professional killer. What about the other agents? If this Emily was so important to Thomas, was she important to the rest of the team, as well? Was she safe at all?

  “I hope not. Speaking of Claire, I need to get her. She’s still in the hidden alcove.” Panic had her standing up, moving quickly to get back to the closet. He couldn’t find her, couldn’t know that she had heard his conversation. Her heart pounded as she slipped into the alcove and drew the door shut behind her. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to breathe deeply and slowly. She had to appear normal, act like nothing had happened. She needed time to process what she’d heard, and she couldn’t have Thomas suspecting her while she tried to figure out what to do next.

  The closet door opened, and she heard Thomas move to stand in front of the alcove. “Claire?” he called out softly. “It’s Thomas. Everything’s all right. You can open the door now.”

  She took a deep breath, carefully arranged her features into a neutral expression and twisted the knob.

  He looked the same, she thought with a bit of surprise. For some reason, she had expected the news of his intended betrayal to show on his face, but he studied her with an expression of calm assurance. There were faint lines of tension around his mouth and eyes, but they could easily be explained away by the stress of their situation.

  “What happened?” She watched him carefully, wondering how he would respond, waiting to pick up any signs of deception.

  He shrugged, dropping his eyes to the ground. “It was just Victor, calling to rattle us.”

  So he wasn’t going to tell her. Disappointment formed a hard lump in her stomach. Despite his words to James, a small part of her had hoped she had misunderstood, that Thomas wouldn’t betray her.

  Now she realized the truth. She was nothing more than a pawn in this deadly game. And despite what her heart had desired, Thomas was nothing more than another person she couldn’t trust.

  Chapter 8

  Special Agent Matt Valdez more than lived up to his reputation. He was a compact, wiry man, with dark brown hair and piercing black eyes that took in everything and everyone in a glance. Although he didn’t speak much, he took command of the situation with a competence that should have been inspiring, organizing people and coordinating the response to Victor’s call. As the specialist on child abductions, he was the bureau’s go-to guy when a kid went missing, and he radiated authority and a calm reassurance that everything was under control. In short, he was ideally suited to run the recovery operation.

  Thomas disliked him intensely.

  How could he just sit there when Emily was gone? God only knew what Victor was doing to her. He was a psychopath of the first order, and capable of anything. Was she hurt? Scared? Hungry? Cold? His stomach roiled as a sick, twisted thought entered his brain. Had the bastard touched her?

  Thomas swallowed hard against the rising tide of bile burning its way up his chest, forcing his mind in another direction. He glanced over to see Valdez studying a map of the city, his gaze focused and intense even as he conversed with James. Their voices were a low buzz, a droning background noise that grated on Thomas’s already raw nerves. He had to do something.

  He pushed back from the table, the chair making a harsh sound as it scraped across the tile. James glanced up at the distraction, sending him a sympathetic smile. Thomas nodded at him, wending his way through the crush of bodies in the house—agents setting up phone taps, computers, extra guards. Staging things for when they got the signal to move.

  If they ever did.

  He sucked in a breath, his throat painfully tight. Air. He needed air.

  He eyed the front door but thought better of it. If he started walking, he probably wouldn’t stop. Besides, there were a few guys smoking outside, and he wasn’t in the mood for company right now.

  He stumbled down the hall, unseeing. Once, he’d thought Roger’s death had been the worst thing that could happen to his family. Now he knew better.

  “Find my baby,” Jenny had said, her voice steely despite her tears, “or don’t bother coming back.”

  His sister-in-law hated him, that much was clear. She hadn’t even let him talk to Mom.

  “She’ll be fine,” she said shortly, in response to his question. “No thanks to you.”

  He winced at the barb, but let it slide. He deserved that, and more.

  “What happened?”

  There was a pause, as if Jenny was debating whether or not to talk to him. “She told the police a man came to the apartment, said he worked with you.” Her tone w
as accusing, as if Thomas had arranged the whole thing. “Next thing she remembers is waking up here.”

  “Will she be okay?”

  Jenny sighed. “They think so. But you won’t,” she continued, her voice hardening, “if you don’t find Emily.” Then she hung up, the dial tone loud in his ear.

  There was an empty bedroom at the end of the hall. Thomas headed for it, closing the door quietly but firmly. He leaned back against it, shut his eyes and rubbed his hands over his face.

  They would find her. They had to—he simply couldn’t consider the alternative. Tears pricked his eyelids at the thought of Emily in the company of that madman. She must be so frightened....

  Worse was the fact that Victor had pretended to be his friend to gain access to Emily. Her teacher said he had flashed a badge and said he was a coworker. He hoped Emily knew the truth—that a real friend of his would never take her away from her family—but who could say? Maybe Victor was poisoning her mind, feeding her lies about why Thomas hadn’t come for her yet, making her feel abandoned and unloved. It wouldn’t be hard to make a kid who had lost her dad feel even more isolated.

  God, Rog. I failed again.

  “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, knowing his brother couldn’t hear him but needing to say the words.

  “You love her, don’t you?”

  He jumped at the intrusion and hastily swiped his hands across his cheeks to rub the tears away. Claire was standing by the window, watching him with an expression of resigned sadness on her face.

  “She means the world to me.”

  Something...was it anger?...flared in her gray eyes. She nodded once, pressing her lips together.

  “You want to trade me for her.” It wasn’t a question; she spoke as if she was merely reciting a fact that was common knowledge. Had she overheard his earlier conversation with James? But how was that possible? She’d been in the alcove the whole time—hadn’t she?

  He looked away, not wanting to meet her eyes and the accusation he saw there. “It won’t come to that.”

  She snorted, clearly not believing him. “Sure. Because everything else has been great so far.”

  “We will get her back,” he said, anger making his voice louder than usual, “and we will do it without putting you in any more danger.”

  She stared at him for a moment, her expression flickering from hopeful to disbelieving to disappointed as she weighed his words. Finally, she shook her head. “She must be pretty special, huh?”

  Emily’s face flashed into his mind, her blond ponytail swinging and her legs pumping as she ran up the sidewalk, laughing with delight when she beat him to the door. He swallowed hard. “Yeah, she is.”

  Claire moved to walk past him but stopped before she reached the door. “Just tell me one thing,” she said, staring up into his face. “Why did we—” She gestured between them as she spoke. “Why did you kiss me out there if you’ve already got someone?”

  His jaw dropped as her words sank in. “Are you telling me you think—”

  She shook her head, cutting him off. “Never mind. It was a despicable thing for you to do, but it’s none of my business. I hope you do find her.”

  He grabbed her arm when she moved to leave, holding her in place. “Wait just a minute—”

  “No, you wait a minute!” She shoved at him, but he spun her around and backed her up against the wall, trapping her with his arms. She wriggled and twisted, trying to get free, so he leaned in, pinning her with the weight of his body. He’d been right earlier. She was angry, but he wasn’t going to let her walk away. Not until they’d settled this.

  “How dare you,” she whispered, her eyes flashing as she glared up at him. “How could you kiss me like that when you already have a girlfriend? What kind of an asshole are you?”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend,” he gritted out from between clenched teeth. “I wouldn’t touch you if I did.” He squeezed her arms for emphasis as he spoke.

  “Then who—”

  “She’s my niece,” he said, leaning in until his lips were a breath away from hers.

  All the fight drained out of her as his words registered. She stared up at him, her mouth open in a perfect O of shock. “Your niece?” she repeated in a voice that cracked slightly.

  He let out a breath. “Yes. Emily is Jenny’s daughter. You remember Jenny from the hospital, right?”

  Claire nodded mechanically, her head bobbing up and down like a puppet on a string. “Of course.”

  Thomas released her and took a step back, putting some much needed distance between them. He couldn’t think when he was so close to her, touching her. His initial anger was quickly morphing into something hot and dangerous, an indescribable need he didn’t understand but couldn’t indulge right now.

  Claire remained in place, leaning back against the wall, her face pale and her eyes wide as she regarded him. “How old is she?” she asked quietly.

  He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture giving him something to do with his hands. “She’s five.”

  Claire let out a sound that was a half sob, half moan. “Oh, God. She’s just a baby.” She met his gaze, her eyes pleading. “Are you sure Victor has her?”

  He nodded once, not trusting his voice.

  Claire shook her head, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Poor Jenny,” she said softly. “She must be so worried.”

  “Angry, more like it,” he said. “She wants to kill me, and I can’t say I blame her.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted in a quick flash of a smile. “It’s easier to be angry than worried. She knows it’s not your fault though.”

  “Isn’t it?” His words were no more than a whisper, but she heard them. She stepped away from the wall, coming forward to lay a tentative hand on his shoulder.

  “No,” she said firmly, her fingers curling into his shirt while she spoke. “Don’t go down that road, Thomas. This isn’t your fault, and you won’t be any good to Emily if you spend all your energy blaming yourself.”

  He shook his head, casting off her reassurances like a dog shaking off water. “It doesn’t matter. Even if we do get her back—”

  “When we get her back,” she interrupted.

  “—Jenny will still hate me for letting it happen,” he finished, ignoring her.

  Claire made an exasperated sound low in her throat. “Jenny strikes me as a reasonable person. Deep down, she knows this isn’t your fault, and she’s not going to blame you for it forever.”

  She didn’t understand. Why should she? He hadn’t told her about Roger’s death, how it had nearly broken the family. Jenny and Emily were just starting to put their lives back together, and now this? It was a wonder his sister-in-law was still standing.

  Thomas pulled away, too frustrated with her oh-so-reasonable tone to stand still. “Don’t you get it? My family is falling apart, and I’m stuck here waiting like a damn helpless fool!”

  She opened her mouth to respond, but he sliced the air with his hand, cutting her off. Then he told her—about Roger, about Emily’s withdrawal, Jenny’s depression. All of it. On one level, it felt good to get it all out there. He’d been carrying the weight of his worry for his family for so long, the burden had almost become a part of him. Just another feature like his red hair.

  He hadn’t really discussed it with anyone before. Certainly not with the guys at work. He preferred to keep his professional and personal lives separate, but sometimes, the division between the two grew thin. Every once in a while Thomas would catch James eyeing him thoughtfully, as if he was piecing together a puzzle. His friend had asked several times about his family, wanting to know how Thomas was doing in the wake of Roger’s death. Thomas always brushed off the question, pretending everything was fine. It was easier that way.

  He wasn’t sure why he was telling
Claire now. She couldn’t do anything to help, and it was clear from the way her eyes were welling with tears that she felt bad about the situation. A detached part of his brain was telling him to shut up, but his mouth had hijacked the controls and was operating without a filter.

  It was likely the stress of the situation, he figured, even as he spoke. After all, things couldn’t get much worse. Claire already thought the worst of him, a fact that bothered him more than he cared to examine. Right now, he should be totally focused on getting Emily back, not worried about Claire’s feelings for him.

  Still, this was something he could fix. With her standing here in front of him, with nowhere to go, he could explain why he’d said the things he had. Why he was so willing to do absolutely anything to bring his niece home. Maybe she would understand, or maybe she wouldn’t, but at least he would know he’d tried.

  Claire was silent for several moments after he finished. “I lost my dad when I was eleven—older than Emily, but still young enough that I didn’t really understand why. She’s very lucky to have an uncle like you in her life.”

  Something about her tone made Thomas curious to hear more. She sounded flat, almost detached, but there was an underlying hint of sadness that he didn’t think was due solely to her grief.

  “It must have been hard for you to lose your dad so young,” he said, hoping she would take the bait and respond.

  She laughed, a humorless sound that told him more about her past than any words. “You could say that.”

  “What happened?”

  She was quiet for a moment, staring at the wall behind him with the unfocused gaze of memory. He could feel her withdraw as she retreated into her past, the silence stretching long and taut between them. It was all he could do not to touch her, to do something to jog her from her fugue, but he knew that if he startled her, she wouldn’t talk about it with him.

  And he found that he needed to know more about her.

  The realization should have bothered him, but he was too strung out to care. Another time, another place, his feelings would have scared him. He hadn’t been interested in a woman since Tanya had left, and the fact that he was so drawn to Claire should have been a warning sign that things were moving too fast. But he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He knew better than most that life could turn on a dime, and he was determined to make the most of his.