The TAKEN! Series - Books 13-16 (Taken! Box Set Book 4)

by Remington Kane

  “I think so, but tell me, did Michael have a certain way of greeting me?”

  “I’m not sure I understand?”

  “I remembered that he had a way of touching me whenever he first saw me, a thing he did with his hands.”

  Amanda’s mouth formed into an O and then she broke out in laughter.

  “Oh my God, yes, I haven’t thought of that in years, and he never used it with Jeffrey, only you, but then, Jeffrey tended to push him around while you were always protective of him. What he would do is, he would lay his hands flat against your chest, and then move them to your cheeks, and whisper the word, ‘Brother,’”

  “Yes, that’s what I remembered, along with other snatches of memory, and I also remembered you, it was the day you taught me to tie my shoes.”

  Amanda wiped at tears.

  “You remembered me? You don’t know how happy that makes me.”

  “Jeffrey told me that he had located Michael, but I don’t believe he ever made contact or verified his identity, but if he could find him, then so can we.”

  Jessica rubbed a hand across Amanda’s back.

  “We’ll find Michael, and this time I plan to involve the media.”

  “Do you think that’s wise,” he said.

  “I don’t like giving interviews, but I often get requests to appear on news and current event programs, and soon I’ll except one and mention Michael. If he’s out there and hears about it, perhaps he’ll make contact.”

  “Yes,” he said. “Along with a dozen crackpots and con men,”

  “I know, but it’s still our best hope of finding him.”

  Amanda took the lid off the thermos and poured soup into its top, which doubled as a bowl.

  “Enough talk, now eat,”

  He grinned.

  “Yes, Mommy,”

  ***

  In St. Augustine, Florida, Numerical worked out in a home gym while listening to the audio gathered from the residence of his next victim, Emily Carson.

  He was grinding away furiously upon an elliptical trainer when he heard the recording where Emily called her sister and asked her to bring her spare key to the home.

  Shit, she’s somehow discovered that I changed the locks.

  He then listened as Emily apologized to her sister for the wasted trip, telling her that she had found her key after all.

  Their words sounded natural to his ear, and he relaxed.

  Realizing that his sweat had cooled upon him while he stood listening, he decided to end the workout early and take a shower. The home he was in was one of five he had scattered across the country, and each of them had been purchased under a different name.

  He had grown up wanting for nothing, but at the age of twenty-three, he cashed out his shares in an up and coming Tech Company that he helped to found while still in college. Three weeks later, the Dot-com bubble burst and his former partners watched their wealth slip away, and while they were doing that, he was picking up shares in other companies that later rebounded and made him even wealthier.

  Since then, his life has been all about the hunt, and although it was a newspaper editor that tagged him with the name, he now thought of himself only as Numerical, and had left his former life behind forever, with one exception.

  After showering, he went into his office and studied pictures of Emily Carson’s home, while memorizing the layout. His speakers were tuned to listen to any sounds coming from the Carson house, but so far, Emily had yet to return from work. It was to be her last day before readying herself to move to her new job in Orlando, something she often told friends and family that she was looking forward to, a new job and a new start.

  He smiled.

  All she would have is endings.

  He picked up a photo of Emily Carson that he had taken weeks ago with a telephoto lens, and imagined the joy that would come from possessing her.

  Tonight, Emily, tonight you’ll be mine, he thought, and kept staring at the photo, while lost in a fantasy of rape and slaughter.

  ***

  Numerical would have been shocked to learn that, far from being silent, Emily Carson’s home was full of activity, as a dozen FBI agents roamed the house preparing for his arrival, after having neutralized his listening equipment.

  Night vision cameras were being installed along with motion detectors. Those residents living in adjacent homes were being relocated to nearby hotels at agency expense, and their houses used for surveillance.

  Blocks away, in a disguised FBI mobile command center, Robyn Dyer went over the list of preparations one more time, looking for anything she might have missed.

  Agent Russ Smith entered the trailer and handed her a cup of coffee.

  “Everything is in place, and they’ll be ready to reactivate the bugs soon.”

  “What about the agent who’s pretending to be Emily Carson?”

  The door opened and a young woman stepped in who could pass as Emily Carson’s twin.

  Dyer was suitably impressed by how close the disguise techs had gotten to the real Emily, who Dyer had spoken to upon her arrival in Florida.

  “What’s your name, Agent?”

  “I’m Agent Williams, ma’am, Rebecca Williams.”

  “How old are you?”

  “I’m twenty-four,”

  Dyer smiled at her.

  “I think I remember being that young. Are you ready, Agent?”

  “Yes, ma’am,”

  “That’s good, but be sure that you don’t make a move until you hear the third beep sound. That will mean that the unsub will have passed the final motion detector and is approaching the bed, where you’ll be. Do you have your earpiece?”

  Agent Williams moved aside several strands of her blond wig to reveal the flesh-colored device in her right ear.

  “Excellent, now head back to the house, and good luck.”

  After Agent Williams left, Dyer spoke to Russ Smith.

  “Place another agent in the house with her. I want that girl protected; after all, she’ll be the most vulnerable.”

  “I hear you, and I’ll make the change,” Smith said, and then he stared at her.

  “What?” she asked.

  “Are you all right? I thought that you were going to have a fit when Cashman brought Summer Gray on board.”

  “Don’t even mention that to me again; I cannot believe that anyone takes that woman seriously.”

  “Face it, she’s gained stature from finding that girl in California, and questionable credentials or not, in the public’s eye, she’s the real deal.”

  “What a world we live in,” Robyn said.

  Smith stared at her again, but this time he was smiling.

  “What now?”

  “What happened after I left you and Lawson alone?”

  Dyer laughed.

  “You’re like a teenage girl sometimes, do you know that?”

  “Ah, so something did happen,”

  “We’ll be having dinner soon, but don’t make a big thing out of it.”

  “I won’t, but it makes me happy to see that you’re happy again.”

  Dyer raised her eyebrows in surprise.

  “I look happy?”

  “You did, after coming out of the conference room with Lawson. What happened in there?”

  Robyn thought about the kiss she and Lawson shared, and despite herself, she giggled.

  CHAPTER 11

  The Elite Care and Comfort Nursing Home in St. Augustine, Florida.

  Numerical smiled politely as he approached the visitor’s desk, where a nurse named Louisa stood.

  He was visiting his grandfather, the man who had raised him.

  Here, he wasn’t Numerical, but only Henry Rafford III, Henry Rafford’s grandson.

  Louisa was attracted to him, he could tell. She had more than once made it clear to him without being obvious about it, and seemed mystified by his reluctance to pursue her.

  Louisa was gorgeous, a petite woman in her twenties with olive skin and lar
ge dark eyes. Her luxurious hair reached below her waist when loose, and her lips begged to be tasted.

  If she weren’t connected to him, Numerical would have slapped a number on her long ago, but she worked at the care facility where his grandfather lived, and so, she was off limits.

  He realized that he could date her, and thus have her. However, the thought of asking a woman for anything, even something as insignificant as sex, repulsed him.

  To Numerical, women weren’t the weaker sex, they were the lesser sex, and barely human. They were vessels for man’s being, and should be servants for his care and pleasure. He did with women as he wished, and had done so since he was a boy growing up in his grandfather’s high-priced and exclusive bordello.

  From his first spark of sexual interest during puberty, the man known as Numerical could simply demand sex from any of the dozens of beautiful women his grandfather employed, and they were his, or else, because Numerical’s grandfather, Henry Rafford, was not a man who abided women disobeying him, and he expected them to treat his grandson like a prince.

  When young Henry left for college, it was like culture shock for him, when he realized that not all women wished to please him. Prior to college, his grandfather had him home schooled by male tutors and he had led a rather insular life.

  When a young woman named Jennifer rebuffed his advances with sarcasm in front of witnesses, he traveled to her hometown during Spring Break and raped her little sister in retaliation, knowing that any direct action against Jennifer might be linked back to him and punished by the law.

  Jennifer’s little sister was a seventeen-year-old high school student who was not as lovely as Jennifer. The girl was overweight and had a bad case of acne, but Numerical discovered that he enjoyed rape far more than consensual sex.

  Throughout college, he traveled about raping women in neighboring states. He had become creative at rendering his victims defenseless quickly, even to the point of gassing them into submission.

  On one memorable visit home, his grandfather called him into his office, where a dead woman laid on the floor. His grandfather had become too enthusiastic in his attempt to chastise the woman, who Numerical knew as a prostitute named Mistress Anna.

  Mistress Anna specialized in administering pain to those clients who went in for such things, but apparently, Mistress Anna was better at dishing out punishment than she was at taking it.

  He helped his grandfather bury Mistress Anna in the nearby woods—among the elder Henry’s previous employee problems—and it bonded him to the old man even more, although his grandfather was already the only person on the planet Numerical cared about anyway.

  Mistress Anna’s disappearance didn’t make an ounce of trouble for the old man and young Numerical began to wonder what it would be like to kill a woman.

  When he finally decided to do it, just to see what it felt like, he discovered that murder was the greatest high of all, and after killing the woman with his antique knife, he marked her by carving the number, 1, into her thigh and his reign as Numerical had begun.

  ***

  Louisa escorted him to his grandfather’s room and then just stood by the door, as if she were waiting for him to ask her a question.

  “It’s been nice seeing you, Louisa, and I want to thank you again for taking such good care of my grandfather.”

  Louisa smiled.

  “It’s my pleasure, Henry, and I hope to see you again on your way out.”

  He said nothing more, and after an uncomfortable silence, Louisa sent him a little wave and walked off.

  Numerical entered the room, pulled up a chair beside his grandfather’s bed, and began talking to him in a voice that was little more than a whisper.

  The private room was large, well lit by spotless windows, and beautified with fresh flowers daily. There was a walk-in closet, a spacious bathroom, and just past the sliding patio door was a view of the garden.

  The Elite Care and Comfort Nursing Home truly did provide elite care, but with a price tag of over twelve grand a month, it didn’t come cheaply.

  Henry Rafford was eighty-nine and had been a patient of The Elite Care and Comfort Nursing Home for fifteen years after suffering a stroke.

  He hadn’t spoken in all that time, a period in which he had suffered two more strokes. He’d also lost the use of his arms and legs and was incontinent.

  His doctors believed that he heard and understood nothing, but Numerical knew they were wrong.

  He told his grandfather everything, and always had, and after committing a murder or two, he would visit the old man and regale him with his exploits.

  Perhaps regale is the wrong term, since his grandfather couldn’t clap or utter words of delight, but the old man would smile, oh yes, the old bastard would smile every time.

  ***

  Jessica’s father, Dr. James White, had come to visit him, and afterwards, had left with Amanda at his side.

  While it made him uncomfortable to think of his father-in-law being intimate with his mother, it pleased him greatly to see how happy she was around him.

  As their footsteps echoed down the corridor, he asked Jessica a question.

  “Do you think they’ll marry someday?”

  “Maybe, or perhaps they’ll just live together, oh, and speaking of marriage, Carly and Michael are getting married soon and we’re invited to the wedding.”

  “That’s good, I like them both.”

  “I spoke with George and Lena and convinced them not to visit, as you asked, but George wants you to call him soon, and he said to tell you that coming here wouldn’t have been too much trouble.”

  “Maybe, but they were just here for my mom’s funeral, and I’d rather see them when I’m feeling better,”

  Jessica lifted her head up as if she had just remembered something and reached into her purse. When her hand came out, it was holding a check.

  “Look at this, Jimmy has paid back the thousand dollars he borrowed recently.”

  “That’s a first, maybe someday he’ll also pay back the small fortune we’ve given him over the years.”

  Jessica laughed.

  “I wouldn’t hold my breath, but he’s been more responsible lately. I think Reina is a good influence on him.”

  “I’m sure she is; she’s given him something more than himself to live for.”

  Jessica looked over at the table beside the bed and saw a news magazine. Its cover featured a menacing black silhouette holding a long knife, with the number, 48, and a question mark in its center, and above the image were the words, Numerical—when will he strike next?

  He followed her eyes and picked up the magazine.

  “I’m surprised that the FBI hasn’t asked you to consult on the Numerical Task Force.”

  “Robyn Dyer asked me about it at the reception we held after Betty’s funeral, but I told her then that I was focused on raising the babies, and at the time we were both more concerned with finding Jeffrey and Hanna.”

  “Once I’ve healed, we should lend a hand. This bastard has been killing for far too long.”

  Jessica took the magazine from his hands as she slowly shook her head.

  “No, from here on out, we’re done.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do I mean? Look at yourself, you nearly died yesterday, and now you’re thinking of going after a man who’s likely as deadly as Jeffrey ever was.”

  “We’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we? We do what we do because we’re good at it, and also because, let’s admit it, we both need the rush it brings.”

  She caressed his face.

  “All I need is you and the children, and maybe the world can take care of itself for a while, yes? I mean, we’re not immortal, and even if we never get injured again we’ll have to stop someday due to old age.”

  Jessica removed her hand from his face and kissed him.

  “We’ve helped many people over the years and ended much evil, but I want us to stop now, I want u
s to stop and take care of our family, and if that’s selfish, well then, I don’t care. I nearly lost you, baby, and if I had, it would have killed me too, killed me inside where it matters.”

  He was silent, pondering her words, but after a few moments passed, he nodded.

  “We’ll stop, if it’s what you want, we’ll stop,”

  Jessica put her arms around him, but gingerly, so as not to press against his healing wounds.

  “We’ve given enough,” she whispered. “We’ve given enough.”

  ***

  Hours later, Tuesday 12:44 a.m.

  After driving by the house twice, Numerical parked his stolen vehicle around the block and then started walking towards what he expected to be his next victim. He was dressed in black from head to toe, and on his back was an equally dark backpack, filled with the items of his uncommon trade.

  Two FBI agents watched him from hidden positions; however, their orders were to allow him inside the home before springing the trap.

  Numerical walked past several houses and then skirted across a lawn, heading for the backyard of the home that sat behind Emily Carson’s residence. Once in the yard, he turned, looked up at an attic window, and froze.

  There should be a light burning in that window, because the husband of the couple that lived there was a night owl who ran a successful tech blog. In all of Numerical’s previous visits to the area while he was stalking his prey, the man had always been working into the early morning hours, but he wasn’t there now.

  Numerical looked away from the window and listened intently, trying to pick up any sound that shouldn’t be there, such as the sound of furtive footfalls, footfalls made by police officers.

  He heard nothing, took two steps forward and then stopped again. He’d heard nothing, but he should be hearing something, such as the soft rattle of a chain, because the people to the left kept a dog in the yard overnight, and that dog was kept chained to a post beside a doghouse.

  The dog had detected his presence on his previous visits and always moved to the fence to sniff at the boards, as if to pick up his scent, and his movements always rattled the chain slightly.

  Numerical let out a soft whistle to attract the hound’s attention, and when he heard only silence answer, he felt a tingle go up his spine.