Colby Control

by Debra Webb

  He pulled out his cell phone to give Simon Ruhl an update and to check on backup from the local police since Trinity Barrett wouldn’t have arrived as of yet.

  No service.

  Damn it.

  He’d have to wait it out.

  Regularly checking Friedman’s pulse and respiration, he attempted to relax to the degree possible.

  The screech of the overhead door rising warned that they had company.

  He swallowed back the doubt and focused on listening for an approach.

  Shouts and the thud of boots on concrete reverberated through the walls.

  It sounded as if an entire army had descended upon the garage-style hangar.

  His pulse reacted to the nearness of danger. With Friedman in the condition she was in, he’d already done all he could do to protect her.

  He tamped down the worry to clear his focus.

  The walls shook with the slam of a door. As best he could determine, the office door.

  They were searching the building.

  The bathroom door opened with an audible groan. Ted stilled. The door banged against the wall. He held his breath.

  Light seeped beneath the closet door. Disabling the bathroom light would have garnered suspicion.

  Stall doors slammed into sidewalls, first one, then the other.

  His mind abruptly jolting into gear, Ted reached up and turned the toggle that locked from the inside the door that stood between them and whoever was searching the bathroom. He unclenched his fingers just in time for the knob to turn.

  Sweat beaded on his forehead as the knob twisted a second time. Though it was too dark to see, he could hear the metal-on-metal slide of the turning knob and then the wood-against-wood pressure against the door.

  “Clear!” followed by the fading clump of footfalls allowed him to breathe again.

  The last Romero had heard before Ted rendered him unconscious was that they would head out on foot. If they were lucky, Romero would order his men to initiate a search of the surrounding area.

  That would buy Ted some time.

  He strained to listen.

  A swoosh and a bang accompanied the bathroom door flying open once more.

  Ted tightened his grip on his weapon, prepared for battle.

  The next sound sent some amount of relief searing through his veins.

  Someone had needed to relieve himself.

  “Hurry up, Elliott!” a male voice shouted. “We’re heading out! They can’t have gotten far.”

  The swift drag of a zipper, then, “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

  Friedman moved.

  Ted groped for her mouth, flattened his hand there.

  She stiffened.

  He leaned his face close to her ear and whispered, “Shh.”

  Dead silence echoed for one, two, then three seconds.

  The toilet flushed.

  The shuffling of boots across the concrete signaled the man’s exit.

  Ted squeezed his eyes shut and thanked God for small miracles.

  She was moving again.

  He put his face close to hers. “Don’t make a sound. They’re out there.”

  She went immobile.

  Ted resumed his vigil, listening intently.

  All they had to do now was remain perfectly quiet.

  And wait until the building was clear.

  Chapter Twelve

  Colby Agency, Chicago

  5:00 a.m.

  “Barrett just checked in.”

  Victoria Colby-Camp looked up from the report she and her son, Jim, had been reviewing. “And?”

  Simon’s grim expression warned that the news was not good. “He’s been detained.”

  “Detained?” Jim Colby countered. “By whom? For what reason?”

  Tension tightened in Victoria’s chest. Her son had asked the questions knowing full well the answer. Ivan Romero. They had learned, as had Simon, in the last two hours that Romero manipulated law enforcement in and around Vegas. Simon’s contact with the Bureau had warned that Romero was not only extremely dangerous but also ruthlessly vindictive. Having a private aircraft detained would be child’s play to a man like Romero.

  “According to the detective in charge,” Simon explained, “he received an anonymous tip regarding the abrupt, middle-of-the-night arrival of a private aircraft from Chicago. One that, according to the anonymous source, was part of a drug operation.”

  Meaning Romero had learned that backup for Ted and Nora was en route.

  “Has Ted checked in?” Victoria asked, hoping against hope.

  Simon shook his head. “Nothing.”

  “What about Soto and Vandiver?” Jim asked, concern mounting in his tone. “Are they still in Vegas or have they made a run for it?”

  “According to my contact, they returned to the Palomino Hotel.” Simon checked his cell phone. “The last text I received indicated that Soto’s sedan remains in the personnel parking area. I called half an hour ago and spoke with Ms. Soto, and she assured me they were safe in one of the VIP suites.”

  “She believes they are in no danger of repercussions from Romero?” Victoria found that difficult to accept since Ted had used Camille Soto as a way onto Romero’s property. A man as cunning as Romero surely had seen through the ruse…unless he had not learned of Ted’s presence. That was perhaps too much to hope for under the circumstances.

  “She insists that is the case,” Simon confirmed. “The suite is one set aside for special guests. She claims no one, not even a member of her staff, is aware of her and Vandiver’s presence there.”

  Jim shook his head. “Impossible considering the high-tech security system in place. She’s not being totally up-front with us.”

  “I agree,” Simon went on. “I’ve asked my contact to get as close to the Romero property as possible. We have to assume that both Ted and Nora are still there.”

  Simon didn’t have to say that his contact’s hands were tied. Overstepping his bounds in any manner could set in motion serious recriminations. He’d already been a great deal of help despite the risks. With no authorization or compelling evidence—other than Simon’s word—he had taken it upon himself to do what he could to be the Colby Agency’s eyes and ears on the ground in Vegas.

  “Is there anything your contact can do to speed up the process at the airfield for Barrett?”

  Jim had an excellent point. If Barrett could get past this stall, his hands would not be tied as were those of Simon’s contact.

  “He’s made a call, but there’s no guarantee. Loyalty to Romero runs deep.” Simon hesitated a moment. “Ian is running down any additional information regarding Nora that might prove useful.”

  “I provided a full dossier on all my Equalizers,” Jim challenged.

  The ensuing tension threatened to push the oxygen right out of the room.

  “Everyone has a history,” Victoria put in quickly to defuse the escalating pressure. “We all have skeletons in our closets. Events from the past that perhaps were thought to have remained in the past. When they come back to haunt us, it’s always a surprise. I’m certain Nora had no idea that Romero still carried such a grudge.”

  The frustration etched along every line and angle of Simon’s face was in direct contrast to the cold-stone stare emanating from Jim’s. These moments were impossible to avoid but now was not the time to be distracted.

  “Of course,” Simon agreed, breaking the ice first. “Nora would never knowingly endanger Ted or herself. I’m simply suggesting we take the steps we can to head off any future incidents of this nature.”

  Jim said nothing.

  Victoria nodded her agreement. “That’s an excellent suggestion, Simon. Every member of our staff is well experienced and has, undoubtedly, made enemies.”

  The merger of the Equalizers with the Colby Agency had been smooth for the most part, but the transition still had a ways to go. Victoria had complete confidence that all would be as it should soon.

  Barring an unfor
tunate outcome with the Vandiver case. She couldn’t help feeling genuine concern for her cousin, despite the fact that the situation wasn’t quite as one-sided as she had represented. The continued infidelity of her husband was a painful hardship. Yet recent developments would indicate that things were somewhat different than Heather had painted them.

  Time would tell…. All parties involved needed protection until that end.

  “Von will put together a risk assessment of all cases and/or situations involving my people.” Jim shot Simon one last daring look as he turned away. “It’ll be on your desk in twenty-four hours.”

  Victoria watched her son leave the office she hoped he would one day call his own. My people. Jim had worked hard to fit in…to give his mother what she had wanted since the day he was born—to be a part of this agency. This was difficult for him. More so than perhaps even she understood.

  He was a proud man, a stubborn man. But he had earned every ounce of that pride and determination the hard way. A way no human should have to.

  “I apologize, Victoria,” Simon offered when the sound of the door slamming had stopped echoing in the otherwise silence. “It was not my intention to overstep my bounds or to elicit tension.”

  “Your suggestion was fitting given the current circumstances.” She mulled over the idea a moment. “Why don’t we put together a similar report on our entire investigative team?”

  Confusion flared in his eyes. “We have a thorough evaluation on everyone already.”

  Victoria nodded. “We do. Let’s pull the evaluations together into one encompassing report for Jim to review.” Her son was studying the files on investigations for the past five years. He’d reviewed the dossiers on all staff members. He was no doubt aware of the agency’s stringent employment guidelines. Still, if such an act would smooth over this latest ripple, why not?

  Simon gave her a nod of understanding. “I’ll have Mildred take care of it as soon as she arrives this morning.”

  One step at a time. The merger would come full circle one step at a time.

  “Simon,” Victoria said, slowing his departure, “one last question.”

  He turned to face her again. “Yes?”

  “Our supplier in Vegas.” The Colby Agency had a supply or incidentals contact in every major city across the country. In this day of airline security measures, there was no way to transport the necessary equipment required for unforeseen complications. “Is there anything he can do to assist us in this precarious situation? Any support whatsoever?”

  “Unfortunately, he, too, is hesitant to step on Romero’s toes.”

  Who was this man that he wielded such power? Victoria had known such men in the past…Leberman. The mere name had the power to send a chill through her heart. But, in her experience, a man like that amassed power over time—a great deal of time—and by arming himself with like allies.

  Though Ivan Romero possessed great wealth, his dossier read like a bedtime story compared to that of a bastard like Leberman. How had he accomplished such loyalty in such a short, somewhat unremarkable period?

  No matter, Nora had, it seemed, made herself a ruthless and significantly powerful enemy. Victoria hoped Ted could salvage the situation.

  For now, it appeared the case could wait. Heather, Victoria’s cousin, was safe under the watch of Leland Rockford. Her errant husband, Dr. Vandiver, had been released by Romero and was, to their knowledge, safe for the time being. Determining the source of his and Heather’s domestic trials would keep until lives were no longer at stake.

  Victoria dismissed the nagging instinct that all was not as it should be where her cousin was concerned. “Thank you, Simon. I’m certain Trinity will find a way to rendezvous with Ted and resolve this situation. Waiting may be our only option for now.”

  “I’m afraid that is our only recourse at the moment.”

  Even the Colby Agency was bested at times.

  Victoria’s door swung inward with Jim’s abrupt return. “We have another complication.”

  Victoria bolstered herself for the news. “What now?” This case had taken more sudden twists and turns than any other she could readily recall.

  “Heather Vandiver is missing.”

  That unsettling feeling that had been nagging Victoria since receiving the first troubling call from her cousin grew stronger now, spread through her limbs with icy intensity. “But her husband and his mistress are still at the hotel in Vegas.”

  “As far as we know,” Simon qualified. “We haven’t had a visual in almost two hours.”

  “Without access to a private jet,” Victoria countered, “that’s not time enough to have made such a move.” Even then it would have been difficult for Brent Vandiver to have made the journey from Vegas to L.A.

  “Rocky can’t be certain this wasn’t Heather’s doing,” Jim explained. “He’s checked in on her every half hour since midnight. She appeared to be sleeping soundly. Twenty minutes ago he went to her door, felt something looked a little off and entered the room. As soon as he’d stepped past the open door, he was hit by a Taser. When he recovered, she was gone. There’s evidence that the security strip on an exterior side door was tampered with. The door was left standing open. Heather’s purse, keys, everything was still in the house. Only she was missing.”

  “But he isn’t convinced that this is a true abduction,” Victoria said, reading between the lines of her son’s assessment.

  “Not one hundred percent. The security system at the Vandiver home is top-notch. No one would have gotten past Rocky,” Jim declared. “That I can guarantee one hundred percent.”

  “She could simply be worried about her husband,” Simon offered with little enthusiasm. “The idea that he was in actual danger may have made her see things in a different light. Perhaps she decided it would be best if she sought him out without outside interference. Panic may have motivated her to set such a ruse in motion.”

  “Or,” Victoria offered, “she could actually be missing. And in danger.”

  “Or,” Jim countered once more, “intent on ensuring she has an alibi for carrying out her true plan.”

  Vandiver had claimed when he’d spoken to Nora that Heather was the one who wanted him dead, not the other way around.

  “Either way,” Jim recommended, “we need someone watching Vandiver and Soto every bit as much as we need someone providing backup to Nora and Tallant.”

  And their hands were tied.

  There was no time to get another investigator on the scene. Local Vegas law enforcement couldn’t be counted on where Romero was concerned.

  “I’ll touch base with my contacts once more,” Simon offered, “but I wouldn’t count on anything more than what we’ve gotten already.”

  “We need Trinity on Vandiver and Soto now.”

  Jim was right. Victoria banished the fear that wanted to harden like stone in her stomach. That would leave Ted and Nora on their own.

  Against an enemy like Ivan Romero.

  Las Vegas, 5:20 a.m.

  THE WHOP-WHOP-WHOP OF the helicopter did nothing to soothe Romero’s fury. For almost half an hour they had been sweeping the landscape with the spotlight. Back and forth, round and round.

  Nothing.

  Three SUVs combed the terrain, as well. Not a sign of Nora and her accomplice had been spotted.

  Romero had checked in with the two guards who’d remained at the house and still nothing.

  The two had to be hiding. Nora knew the area fairly well. But did she know it well enough to find her way in the dark under the circumstances?

  The muscle relaxer had to be playing havoc with her ability to think and focus.

  A new wave of fury tore through Romero’s chest. He should have killed her when he had the chance. Should have killed her accomplice, as well.

  Hell, he should have killed them all.

  There was only one way Tallant had gotten onto Romero’s estate.

  Camille.

  She would pay for her deceit.
/>
  So would her new lover.

  No one crossed Ivan Romero and lived to tell about it.

  Why had he ever allowed Nora to live this long? Why had he needed such an elaborate plan of revenge?

  Because no one else had ever hurt him the way she had. He’d needed her payback to be special…to last longer than the few minutes required for life to drain from her dying body.

  She and her brave partner couldn’t possibly have gotten far. They had to be hiding amid the desolate terrain below.

  What he needed was a larger and more ambitious search party.

  He activated the mic attached to his headgear. “Call my dear friend Medlock,” he instructed his head of security. “Let him know that we’ve chased intruders from my property. There are certain documents they may have obtained copies of. He’ll know what to do.”

  Romero relaxed. The sheriff would respond to the call for help instantly and with full force.

  There wasn’t a secret in this entire county that Romero didn’t know…. Many he possessed tangible evidence of. No one, no one, wanted those secrets revealed.

  This time he wouldn’t bother with his elaborate plan.

  Nora would die.

  And so would her friend.

  Chapter Thirteen

  5:25 a.m.

  “I can carry you.”

  If Nora’s eyes had responded to the command sent by her brain, they would have rolled. “I can walk. Get off my back. We don’t have time for this.” She’d told Tallant five times she could do this.

  Even as she roared the argument, she swayed.

  He steadied her. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “Are we going to stand here and argue about this until they come back?” They needed to get out of here!

  He didn’t look happy but he put up his hands in defeat. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

  Both the helicopter and the SUV were gone from the massive hangar. They’d heard the helicopter overhead as it tracked from north to south in a steady, relentless pattern. Romero wouldn’t stop until he found them—that she knew for sure. Standing here, waiting around for him to realize they weren’t out there anywhere, was not a brilliant idea.