Confusion flickered. “What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t figured out who I am, have you?”
“No.”
“That’s because Kat didn’t like pictures—or introducing me to the people she worked with. But a little snooping goes a long way. I found a picture of you and her in her nightstand one night after she fell asleep on the couch. She’d even written your name on the back and where the picture was taken. I was curious as to who this person was. Someone so important to her that she actually kept a picture. Not on her phone, of course. She wouldn’t carry the picture with her. Once I managed to infiltrate her files, it was easy to find you and your current assignment. And easy to get in touch with Pirhadi.”
Shock flared. “Vincent,” she breathed.
“Nice to meet you, Amber.”
“You used her.” She arrived at the room and paused.
“Not at first. I fell for her, but she chose her job over me.”
“So you betrayed her.”
“It seemed to be a good idea at the time. Pirhadi paid a lot for the information on you. He was not a happy man when he found out. Now open the door.”
Amber reached for the door handle. Once she pressed down, the door would swing inward. The gun dug into her side. But at least she was in front of the weapon. She knew she could make sure the first bullet would hit her before he could take aim at anyone else in the room. Then Lance or Clay would take down the man behind her. She opened the door and stepped inside. Two more steps brought her into the room where she stopped. Vincent stayed right behind her.
The room was empty. The relief nearly buckled her knees. She’d hoped, she’d prayed, she’d counted on them being quick enough to move him.
Vincent screamed. A howl that burned a painful path into her brain. “I’ll just track him again,” he raged. “I’ll just find him again.”
“I doubt it,” Amber said.
“What are you talking about? I’ve had no trouble keeping up with him up to this point. Nothing’s changed, it’s just taking me a little longer.”
“Everything’s changed.” She pointed.
Sam’s shoes sat neatly in the center of the bed.
FIFTEEN
Lance hit the bottom of the stairs. No Amber. Several firemen, though. They were now on scene and it was going to be harder to find Amber in the chaos. She wasn’t here, so where? Think, man, think. She’d go to Sam’s room. Bottom line, no matter where she’d been, she’d return to Sam’s room. He’d been an idiot to leave.
Lance raced back up stopping near the middle of the first-floor stairs. A hint of pink caught his eye back at the bottom. He almost ignored it, but decided to check it out. He spun, berating himself for wasting precious minutes and went back down the few stairs he’d just climbed. He rounded the bottom rail and looked down.
Amber’s phone with the pink cover. That’s why he’d stopped. Somewhere in his subconscious he remembered her pink phone. He snatched it and looked down at the screen. His calls and several texts were on the screen. He pocketed the device and tried to reassure himself that just because she’d dropped her phone in her rush to get to Sam didn’t mean something bad had happened to her. Didn’t mean it hadn’t either.
The stairwell was now empty, and he took the stairs two at a time to the fourth floor. He burst through the door and encountered a wall of smoke. He pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose then turned right.
“Hey, what are you doing up here? You need to get out!”
Lance turned to see a fireman pointing at the door. He was fully decked out in his suit. He spoke from behind the mask that muffled his words. But Lance understood him. “I’m getting out. Just need to check on something first.”
“All the rooms up here are empty. We’ve got a grease fire on our hands. Someone threw water on it and it’s spreading fast. Unless we can get it under control, we’re going to lose this area.”
Water on a grease fire. Not smart. Lance flashed his badge. “I’m checking this room.”
The fireman held up his hand. “You’ve got about three seconds. Hurry up.”
Lance pushed the door open and walked inside. This was Sam’s old room. The room Amber would return to because she wouldn’t realize Clay had moved him. “Empty.”
“Told you. Now go, please.” The man motioned him out of the room and Lance headed back down the stairs. A grease fire was deliberate. Which meant it was set to cause a distraction. So, someone had come on the floor and set the fire. Then left? Or stayed to watch in order to discover which room Sam would exit?
“Hey,” he called after the retreating firefighter. “Hey, wait a minute.” He breathed in the smoke and coughed. He lifted the collar of his shirt one more time up over his nose and mouth.
The fireman turned. “What?”
“Did you see anyone on this hall around this room?”
“There was a man and a woman up here just a minute ago. I sent them to the stairs just like I’m sending you. Go!”
“Which stairwell did they use?”
The fireman paused. “The one on the other end of the building.” He pointed.
Lance raced down the hall to the stairs the man had indicated and threw open the door. He took the stairs at a run, using the railing to help propel him down even faster. When he arrived at the bottom, he pushed through the door and found himself near one of the exits. The fire alarm had ceased its head-pounding noise and in this area of the hospital he found all to be operating normally.
The problem was, there was an exit to his right, but also an exit down the hall and into the main lobby of the hospital. But that area was crawling with law enforcement and fire officials.
He bolted for the nearest exit. Someone had Amber, of that he had no doubt at this point. The combination of details simply added up to that. A man and a woman, the fireman had said. Amber’s cell phone in the stairwell, the fact that she’d slipped away from Tiffany. And she hadn’t found a way to get in touch with him yet. Everything added up to Amber being in trouble. But he didn’t think he was too far behind her.
Once in the parking lot, he shivered and felt the falling flakes hit his cheeks. A fresh blanket of snow covered the area. Right now, with the temperature hovering in the low forties, most of the ice had melted and the new snow covered the slush underneath. Lance jogged closer to the cars, his gaze scanning the area.
And his eyes fell on a black SUV that had the motor running, exhaust billowing from its tailpipe. He walked toward it. A window rolled down.
“Lance! Run!”
A gunshot sounded and he ducked.
* * *
Vincent sat in the seat behind the driver with the window down and was aiming the gun at Lance. She was in the backseat next to him. Amber clasped her hands together and brought them up in a volleyball serve motion to catch her abductor in the back of his head. He howled and swung a fist around. It landed on the side of her ear. The explosion of pain made her gasp. Stars sparkled in front of her eyes and blackness swirled.
But she heard his weapon hit the side of the car. “Drive! Go!” he yelled and turned to glare at Amber. She raised her hands ready to defend herself should he decide to punch her again.
“Where’s Yousef’s son, Amber?” the man in the front demanded. He turned in the seat and she found herself staring at the business end of yet another weapon.
Amber let out another gasp when she realized who faced her. Deon Pirhadi, Yousef’s brother and Sam’s uncle. A man she’d seen a number of times over the past four years. “Sam’s safe.”
“Tell me where he is.”
“I have no idea.”
He growled and turned to put the car in gear. “Vincent? Where’s Sam?”
She tried to catch his eyes in the mirror, but he was busy backing out of
the parking place. Stupid. She would have backed in if she was going to kidnap someone and needed to make a fast getaway. The thought was fleeting, a desperate attempt to keep her cool. To reassure herself that her brain was still functioning and she could find a way to either outsmart them and escape or just plain get away.
“I couldn’t get him,” Vincent said. “Somehow they found out about the tracker in Sam’s shoes and they moved him. But we’ve got her, and that means we’re very close to getting him.”
Amber sat in the backseat behind the open passenger seat. Vincent sat to her left. She strained to see Lance and saw him racing for the nearest officer. He would come after her. Somehow she had to make sure he could keep her in sight. Without getting him killed.
Deon handed the weapon to Vincent. “Try not to lose this one.”
Vincent scowled and fear drew Amber’s shoulder muscles tighter and flexed them while she pushed the fear away. They wouldn’t kill her. Not yet. Not as long as they thought she could lead them to Sam. Somehow she was going to work that to her advantage. She just had to think of a way to do so. And she truthfully had no idea where Sam was, so in a way, that was a blessing. Clay would protect the child with his life. There was no more tracker, no way to find him now. She could be thankful for that anyway. “You’re too late,” she said.
“What?”
“Sam already told us everything.” If they knew Sam had shared the information he’d gotten from his father’s office, they’d have no reason to kill him, right?
Vincent chuckled. “Not likely.”
“Not likely that he told us about Ravi?”
Deon swore as he peeled out of the hospital parking lot. “That cop is behind us. You should have shot him when you had the chance. You are a lousy marksman. Not enough visits to the shooting range, eh?”
Vincent went rigid. His fury made his hand shake, and Amber sincerely wished he would remove his finger from the trigger. “Better not pull that trigger,” she said softly. “I’m guessing you don’t have all of your money yet.”
He blinked at her and drew in a deep breath through his nose. And while he didn’t move his finger, he did aim the gun slightly over her shoulder, which afforded her a little breathing room. But his eyes didn’t leave hers and Deon kept flicking glances at her in the rearview mirror. “What do you know about Ravi?” Deon asked.
“That he’s on a plane bringing you a virus.”
The car jerked, and he let out a string of curse words that told her she’d hit her mark. “Yes,” he snarled. “A virus that is going to make me very, very rich and will bring America’s banking system to her knees.”
Amber stilled. “What? A computer virus?”
“A very powerful computer virus.”
So not a virus that would kill people. Relief swept her. Then she tensed again. He still had to be stopped, and Sam had to be rescued.
She glanced at the door. Locked. She wondered if the child locks were on.
“Give me your hands.”
“What?” She looked at Vincent.
He held the gun in one hand and a roll of duct tape in another. “Give me your hands!”
“No.” If she let him tie her hands up, that would be it. He couldn’t hold the gun on her and tape her up at the same time. The car swerved to the left and rounded the corner. She slammed into the door and pain shot through her right shoulder as the big SUV’s tires caught a patch of ice and slid. She ignored the pain and took advantage of the moment to unlock the door.
“What are you doing, Deon?” Vincent yelled. “You’re not driving on a dry highway, man.”
“I’ve got to lose that cop and warn Yousef that the meeting is compromised.”
“You’re going to lose everything if you kill us.”
“You have a better idea? You? Who couldn’t even grab a little boy and return him to his father? Incompetent imbecile,” he muttered. Amber’s gaze shot to the road. Deon had managed to keep the vehicle on the street and right now it was a straight shot to the highway. At least he’d come prepared and had chains on the tires, but even chains wouldn’t do him much good on ice. The road they were now on had been scraped and Deon would find it much easier to drive on it. Easier and faster. She tried to picture the route in her mind. They’d leave the city area, hit a short patch of wooded back road and come out the highway exit ramp.
She turned and looked out the back window. Lance was nowhere to be seen. Her heart thudded. But Deon didn’t go straight, he pulled into a side alley and turned a gun on her face. How many weapons did he have up there? A full arsenal no doubt. “Now,” Deon said, “give him your hands or I put a bullet in you.”
“Then how will you get Sam?”
He smirked. “I have a feeling I’m not going to be able to get him through you anyway. You would die for that loser.”
Amber lunged at him and only Vincent’s hard shove kept her from punching the man in the mouth. And probably saved her from getting shot. She landed hard against the door once more. Her shoulder protested the harsh treatment. She drew in a ragged breath and stared at Deon. “You and Yousef don’t deserve to breathe the same air as Sam,” she whispered.
Deon’s eyes, so like his brother’s, glittered. “Tape her up before I simply decide to shoot her. And put some tape over her mouth.”
Vincent set his gun down and grabbed her hands. She clenched her jaw and let him duct tape them together doing her best to keep her wrists separated without him noticing. He wrapped the tape several times. Tight. She winced and flexed her fingers when he ripped the roll from the piece now restricting her. Then glanced behind them one more time.
Still no Lance.
* * *
“I need a vehicle, Clay. Preferably one that won’t blow a tire!” It had probably been the bullet that damaged the tire enough for it to give out during the chase.
“I’ve got Ronnie bringing you one now.”
“And get someone on the highway exit.” Lance paced in front of his SUV. The tire had blown and he’d ridden on it as far as he could, trying to keep up with Amber and her abductors. Then he’d had no choice but to stop. His heart beat a heavy rhythm in his chest and prayers flew from his lips. “I’m thinking he’ll want to get Amber out of town and far away as fast as possible. He may even head to the airport.”
“Then he’ll make his demands especially if we manage to get our hands on whatever it is Ravi is bringing him. He’ll want to use Amber as a bargaining chip. I’ll request flights to be grounded and get his picture distributed to airport security.”
“I agree. When does the plane land?”
“In three hours.”
Ronnie pulled up beside him. Lance climbed into the passenger seat and pointed. “Follow those tracks for now. As soon as he hits the highway, we won’t know which way to go.”
Ronnie did as asked and Lance sat on the edge of the seat. He didn’t bother with a seat belt. As soon as he found Amber, he wanted to be out of the vehicle. Please, dear God, don’t let anything happen to her. Lead me to her. Keep her safe.
He believed God heard his prayer. Believed it with everything in him. But he also knew that God didn’t just make everything okay because He was asked. Amber’s kidnapping hadn’t taken Him by surprise. He knew it was coming. He could have stopped it. But He hadn’t. Lance wanted to know why, but couldn’t think about that right now. He just wanted to find her and keep her safe. Forever. “If that’s all right with You, God,” he whispered.
“What?” Ronnie asked.
“Nothing,” Lance murmured. “You see anything?”
“No, nothing.”
“Head for the highway.”
SIXTEEN
Amber had to get out of the car. She was going to have to take a chance and do something. But what? Her fingers were starting to go numb. She wiggled t
hem to keep the blood flowing.
A curse reached her. Deon swerved down a side road and Amber clutched the handle on the door with her bound hands to keep from slamming into Vincent. When the car steadied, she sucked in a breath and looked up to find Vincent glaring out the back window. She turned to see what had him so angry then breathed a prayer of thanks when she realized Lance had caught back up with them. Their brief stop to tape her hands had bought her the much-needed time Lance needed to find her. He was quite a ways back, but at least he was there. And he wasn’t trying to be subtle, he had the lights flashing and the siren going.
And thanks to Deon’s wild driving, Vincent’s weapon was no longer aimed at her. Amber grabbed the door handle once again, shifted in the seat for leverage and drew her foot back. She kicked out, catching Vincent in the head. He cried out and his weapon fell to the floorboard. Amber lunged for it and felt something slam into the back of her head.
She gasped at the pain even as her fingers closed over the barrel of the gun. Deon was yelling something then the car jerked and she lost her grip. Her spine rammed into the back of the front seat, the weapon slid away and Amber wanted to scream her frustration. She fell to the floor between the backseat and the front, her head spinning. Vincent had retrieved the weapon and was hanging out the open window aiming the gun at the approaching police vehicle.
Cold air rushed over her, clearing her head a bit. A gunshot made her flinch and her ears ring. She lifted her gaze and reached up with her bound hands to press the unlock button. Vincent was too busy taking aim for his shot to pay her attention.
Heart pounding, head throbbing, she swallowed a wave of nausea and reached for the door handle. She had to avoid Vincent’s legs and work around his body to reach it, but she managed. Her fingers, clumsy and almost numb, finally closed around the handle. The car swerved again, but Amber clenched her teeth and yanked.
The door opened and with Vincent’s weight almost fully on it to give him leverage, the door swung open. Vincent, caught halfway out of the window, scrambled to hold on and get back in the vehicle. Amber moved as quickly as she could from her awkward position on the floor and got to her knees, slid her taped hands under Vincent’s knees and hefted the man out the door.
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