by Cate Nolan
She dialed Ben’s number and waited until she heard it begin to ring. The ringing echoed throughout the basement. Callie held the phone out from her ear and listened, then snapped it shut.
Ben’s phone was ringing in the basement. He was down here with her.
NINETEEN
Callie’s nerves pricked. Why was Ben down here? Why had he shown up without calling to say he was coming? Something felt off. When she’d left the message, she hadn’t even known she’d be coming to the basement. How had he known she was here?
Maybe the custodial staff had alerted him. But wouldn’t they have escorted him as they’d done with her?
Instinct prompted her to hide until she could figure this out. She set her phone on vibrate and edged toward the back stairs. She might just be jittery because of everything that was going on. Though she tried to write it off as that, her gut said this was different.
Her phone vibrated. Please let it be Jackson. It was Ben.
She answered cautiously. “Hello?”
“Hey, Callie. Where are you? I got your message so I figured I’d come help.”
Callie tried to feel reassured by that. He was the marshal who’d been in charge of protecting her originally. She really shouldn’t have any reason not to trust him.
“I’m down in the cellar.”
“Hang tight. I’ll be right down.”
Callie crouched behind some boxes. Was it possible she’d heard his phone from outside? She took some slow breaths, tried to calm down while she waited for him.
Her phone began to vibrate again. Jackson. Relief washed over her.
“Man, am I glad you—”
He cut her off. “Callie, listen carefully, did you call Ben?”
“Yes, he’s here now.”
Jackson’s intake of breath came through the phone. That wasn’t encouraging.
“There? Can he hear me?”
“No,” she whispered.
“Don’t trust him. Try to get away from him.” She could envision him clenching his phone, biting back his temper. “It’s important, Callie.”
“But, Jackson, I’ve almost got the evidence. I know where it is.”
“Wait for me to get there.”
“Ben’s coming. He said he’d help.”
She heard a rush of indrawn breath. “Callie, I think Ben is a mole. I think he’s the reason we were being followed all the time.”
Callie was frantic. “What should I do?” she whispered into the phone. “I can hear him coming.”
“Is there anywhere to hide?”
“I’m in the basement of the school. I’ve never been down here before. I don’t know. It looks like a lot of empty rooms.”
“Callie?”
“He’s here,” she whispered into the phone.
“I know. I heard him. Okay, he doesn’t know that you suspect anything, so maybe you’re better off just playing along. Whatever you do, don’t let him find the real evidence.”
Or he’ll have no reason to keep you alive. Those were the unspoken words Callie heard. She knew they were what Jackson was thinking.
“Where are you? I don’t know how long I can put him off.”
“I just landed at the airport. I’ll have security send backup. Hopefully they’ll get there before I do.”
“Callie?” Ben’s voice was starting to sound impatient.
She held the phone away and called out. “I’m back here, Ben. I’ll be right out. I was just looking for something.”
“Okay.”
“Jackson? I’ve got to go. He’s getting suspicious.”
“Callie, wait, love. Don’t hang up. Keep the phone on in your pocket or something. I’ll be able to hear what’s going on and relay it to the police.”
She sighed deeply, feeling immensely comforted to know he would be close in some way. “Okay.”
“I’m praying for you, my brave lady.”
That warmed her heart even more.
Callie grabbed some old drawings she’d had in her hand when she’d come looking for a phone signal and made her way out to the main room. “Hey, Ben. I’m so glad you got my message. I tried reaching Jackson, but he didn’t answer his phone either.”
“Callie. You’re looking good, sweetie.”
“You’re the one who’s looking good.” It wasn’t hard to feign concern. She had been worried about him for a long time. “Are you okay? I feel so awful that you took a hit meant for me.”
He gave her a quick hug and she tried not to cringe. “That’s my job, dear. Did you leave Jackson a message?”
She made a face but didn’t directly answer. “Jackson and I didn’t part on exactly the best of terms.”
That was enough to distract him from the fact that she hadn’t answered his question. Knowing that Jackson was listening, she said, “He said it was too dangerous for me to come back here, but I thought I knew better. I wanted to find the evidence we need.”
“Why did he think it was dangerous?” Knowing Jackson’s suspicions, Callie recognized the tension in Ben’s voice.
“He figured the men who were after me would have a better chance of finding me if I came back to Texas. He wanted me to leave it to your office to figure things out.”
“But you’re here.”
She grimaced. “Like I said, I had a different idea. I figured if I came here and could look through my stuff, it might spark some idea of what Rick was hiding.”
“Did it?”
Callie shrugged. She didn’t want to lie, but she was not going to aid a criminal. “It never occurred to me that my stuff would be boxed away. I had to ask the custodians to find the boxes for me. Manny brought me down and dug things out.”
“Is he still down here?”
His questions added to Callie’s nerves. Was she hearing things in his voice because she was nervous, or was he really a threat? She had to fight the tremble in her own voice as she replied.
“I told them to let me look on my own first. It’s going to be sort of emotional, you know.” She forced some tears, which wasn’t all that hard. “I mean this is the first time I’ve seen any of this stuff since before Rick was killed. I’m still having such a hard time dealing with it all and trying to understand him and why he got involved in this.”
Ben wandered around the room, as if looking for something himself. “What did Jackson tell you?”
“Not much. He really didn’t seem to know any more about it than I do. What makes a man go bad, Ben? Why did Rick turn from the man I knew?”
Did Ben flinch at her question? She could only imagine how Jackson had reacted to it if he was still on the phone, but she needed some sense of where she stood with Ben.
“I don’t know, Callie. I guess it depends on the man. Some have a bad streak that’s hidden. Others, well, maybe they just don’t care about anyone but themselves.”
Those were definitely odd comments. “I don’t really think either of those fit Rick, but I guess I’ll never know now.”
“Where are your boxes? I’ll help you look.”
Putting on her best pouty face, Callie said, “I was just about to go look for some water. Couldn’t it wait until I get back?”
“No. Let’s do it now.”
Callie cringed at his sharp tone as much as his words. “Ben, I really don’t feel well. It’s stuffy down here. I need to get some air and water.”
Ben’s gaze shifted around the room. His hand stayed firmly in his back pocket. “You’ll be fine as soon as we find the evidence. We don’t have time to waste. You don’t know how soon they’ll catch up to us.”
Panic swirled in her belly, and she thought she might save herself for real by getting sick on Ben’s feet. Stall. Jackson had told her to stall.
; “Okay, but if I pass out, it’s your fault.”
The glare that comment caused in no way resembled the face of the caring man she’d spent weeks working with last fall. She wanted to ask what had happened. Survival instincts kept her mute.
“The boxes are in here, the far room away from the furnace.” She added the last for Jackson’s benefit.
Ben forced her to go ahead of him. Still the hand didn’t leave his pocket. She was beginning to worry about what was in there. Silly. She wanted to smack herself. He’s a federal marshal. Of course he has a gun. That wasn’t very reassuring.
“So what are we looking for?” he asked as she settled down beside a box.
Callie shrugged. “Beats me. Jackson thought there might be something here to identify the thugs who killed Rick. Or at least the ones coming after me since the first ones are already dead.”
“You look, and I’ll stand guard. Hurry.”
Callie sorted through the pile of papers in the box closest to the door. She already knew there was nothing in there but old writing samples. What she was looking for was a model house. It wouldn’t be with papers. It was far more likely to be on a shelf somewhere. She scanned the room and her gaze lit on a turret sticking out from behind the steam pipe. Shifting a little, she could see the rest of the model house, the one that looked more like a museum piece than a potential home.
“Ben, I’m about to give up. Maybe there was nothing. Maybe they’re wrong, and Rick didn’t know anything.”
“They’re not wrong.”
Callie flinched. That was not Ben’s voice. Who else was down here?
* * *
Jackson’s hands froze on the steering wheel. He strained to hear what was going on, but the sounds were muffled. Once Ben had insisted Callie walk into the other room to search, the signal had weakened. He’d heard the new voice, though. Who was there besides Ben?
Traffic was moving at a snail’s pace, and Jackson pounded on the wheel. Not that it did any good, but it was an outlet for frustration and the fear he wouldn’t admit to. He muted his phone, rested it on the seat beside him and grabbed for the burner phone he was using to communicate with his office so he didn’t lose Callie.
“Walker here. There’s a problem. Someone else just showed up in the school basement.”
Jackson listened carefully and chills started at the base of his spine. “Are you sure alerting DEA was a good idea? You might want to ask for more backup. I just heard someone else arrive, and he didn’t sound like he was on our side.”
Jackson clicked off the phone and focused back on Callie. Being able to hear her voice calmed him a bit, but it also triggered questions. Why had she gone off without him? She knew the danger. Why hadn’t she waited?
The answer to his questions smacked him across the side of the head with the force of an oak tree. He’d told Callie he would have the sense not to make the same mistake as Rick, but he had. He’d let her get away. He thought back to all the signs she’d given him, how she’d asked him to help her. But he’d been so frozen with fear of losing her that he’d pushed her away. And because of that, because of him, she was in mortal danger.
“Lord, help me to get to her. You know what’s happening. I don’t have a good feeling about it. Please help me, Lord. Help me get to her in time.”
Fear such as he’d never known pressed on Jackson. He couldn’t lose her, not now. Not when he was ready to take the chance and commit fully to a life with her.
Traffic eased. Jackson hit the gas and sped down the darkened streets. His GPS was talking to him, telling him what turns to make. He was surprised she didn’t tell him to slow down because she could barely keep up. “Make a left, make a right. Recalculating.”
There, up ahead, he could see the school. Lights flooded the parking lot. Jackson pulled the car to a stop and jumped out, flashing his badge at anyone who tried to stop him.
He reached the barricade in minutes. “Who’s in charge here?”
The local officer stepped forward, and Jackson introduced himself. “What’s the status?”
“Nothing’s wrong here. We’re sending cars home. The custodian said a former teacher wanted to check her files. The US marshal and the DEA agent from her case went in to help her. Not sure why we were called in.”
“Has anyone spoken with her?” Jackson asked.
“Negative. The lead officer spoke with the DEA agent upon arrival.”
No. This was all wrong. Callie wouldn’t—
A scream rent the air.
“Where did that come from?” the officer asked.
“My phone.” Jackson’s body went rigid as he brought his emotions under control. “That was the teacher. I’m going in. I need backup. I have good reason to believe that at least one of those federal agents has turned and is a threat to the teacher.”
The officer paled. “Done.” He signaled to several officers clustered by the cars. “Go with him. Do what he tells you.”
Jackson didn’t like going in with only a few unknown officers, but he didn’t have time to wait for backup that might not be coming. He quickly filled the cops in on what he needed from them, explaining that Callie needed to be protected at all costs. They donned bulletproof vests and headed toward the school building.
Jackson wished he dared talk to Callie. He wanted to reassure her he was coming in, but the danger of someone else overhearing was too great.
When they reached the school and crouched beside the wall, he asked the officers, “Do any of you know the layout of this school?”
One of the younger men spoke out. “I attended elementary school here. Can’t say I’ve ever been in the basement, but I know the upper floor rooms.”
Jackson scanned the throng of people that had gathered in the darkness. “Wait here a minute,” he told the officers. “I’m going to see what the head custodian can tell me.” He crossed over to where the custodians were standing and hurriedly exchanged words.
Once he had the layout embedded in his brain, he felt a bit better. He gathered his team in a huddle and drew a rough floor plan in the gravel. “Callie’s last identifiable location was the back room far from the furnace. I think that’s this one. Good news is there’s an outside staircase that leads into it.”
He studied the crude map for a few minutes. “I think we need to split up. Half of us can go down the back stairwell, and another five can go through the building. Don’t do anything unless you hear from me.” A thought crossed his mind.
“Do any of you have trouble with the idea of shooting at a dirty cop if it becomes necessary?”
Jackson took a crucial moment to stare into the eyes of each man as he answered. He needed to know they were all on the same side. “Okay, then.”
* * *
“One more scream like that, and they’ll find your bones when they tear this place down.”
Callie shrugged. She’d only screamed so that Jackson could hear there was trouble. “I know you, don’t I? You came to see me with Ben in New York. To ask me questions about Rick. You glared at me because I didn’t know anything.”
He nodded, and Callie realized he had no intention of letting her leave here alive, scream or no scream. He was the DEA agent who had rescued the assistant US attorney. Had stopped the kidnapping.
Of course. Because the kidnappers didn’t know the change of plans, but he did, so he’d stopped them from taking the wrong person. And now he had the right person. Terror coursed through Callie, turning her insides to jelly. She leaned back against the pile of boxes and prayed.
She was trying not to be afraid. Please, Lord. Help me know what to do. Help me make the most of this.
The pile of boxes shifted under her. An idea began to take shape. She’d distract them and get the answers she wanted at the same time.
She looked him stra
ight in the eye. Yup, same bright blue eyes she remembered. “What did you want me to say that day in New York?”
“The same thing I want from you now. Where did that stupid boyfriend of yours hide the papers?”
“What papers?”
“Don’t play dumb with me.” He was losing patience, and for a moment Callie was afraid he would strike her.
Ben spoke up, his tone calm compared to his colleague’s. “Callie, Rick stole papers from some important people. Do you know about them?”
Finally. “So that’s what this has been about? All this tracking and attempting to get to me?”
Ben nodded. “He made some people really angry.”
She smirked. “I guess so, given all the trouble you’ve gone to. Hate to burst your bubble, but I don’t know a thing about any papers. If you haven’t figured it out by now, I was apparently the last person Rick would have confided in.” That realization didn’t sting as much as it should have. She had Jackson to thank for that. He’d shown her how a real man, an everyday hero, behaved.
The DEA agent clearly didn’t like her answer. Ben put a restraining hand on his arm, but he quickly shook it off and headed toward her. “Even if he didn’t tell you, he must have left the papers with you. We’ve searched everywhere else.”
Anger filled Callie. “You! You’re the one who trashed my classroom.” She didn’t care that he’d done it to her home, as well. The idea of this man touching the things her precious children used each day set her pulse pounding. She glared at him as she clenched and unclenched her fists to keep from clawing at him. The only thing that kept her rooted to the spot was knowing she would need this pile of boxes to help her escape.
“Maybe if you tell me what is in the papers, rather than threaten me, I could think of someplace he might have hidden them.”
“Do you think I’m an idiot?” the agent asked.
Callie shrugged. “You tell me.” She was deliberately provoking him and it worked. He charged.
At the very last minute, she stepped to the side and gave the teetering pile of boxes a shove. They toppled over onto him, knocking him back.
