by Sheila Kell
He didn’t drop her at the top of the stairs. When he set her down, she stood in front of a door that her captor reached around and opened. “Get in.”
Panic seized her in its tight grasp, cutting off her air supply. What kind of prison was this? A hand on her back pushed her forward, and she lost her footing, just catching it before she face-planted. The door slammed behind her and she heard a distinct click of a lock. They’d locked her in from the outside.
Reaching up, she ripped the bag from her head and blinked with watery eyes until her gaze became accustomed to the light. Slowly spinning around, she surveyed her surroundings. A lump climbed into her throat and almost choked her. This room was set up for a woman, with pink as the primary color. The double bed had a lovely rose-covered quilt, and a vase of roses sat at the bedside. On the dresser across the room, figurines of ballerinas held a prominent place.
Her gaze settled on the window and she rushed to it. They’d driven for a long time, so she’d never make the walk back on foot, but she still had to try to get free. Excitement washed over her and her heart pounded. Freedom.
After searching for any alarms and finding none, she reached down to pull the window up. Two things hit her at once. She was on the second floor so she’d have to jump from the window and the nails holding it closed would’ve prevented even that desperate feat.
Her heart sank like a lead ball to her stomach, rolling around until she was queasy. She was truly trapped in here for God knew how long. With a gut-wrenching sob, she dropped onto the bed, buried her face in her hands and cried.
It was still hard to believe this was happening. She’d been in bed with Blake—the man she loved more than life. If her friend Crystal had been right and he’d planned to propose, this sidelined that idea for her rescue.
She sniffed and smiled, thinking of Blake and the last time they’d snuck away to his home for an evening together. She’d walked in, completely surprised and pleased, to see him wearing a cooking apron and holding tongs.
“There are times when I want to cook my meal, and this is one of them.”
“Why?” she’d asked. “What makes it different today?”
With a seductive smile, he’d closed in on her and dropped a kiss to her lips before she could protest. “Because I get to cook for you.” He’d winked and turned to the back door and where she’d seen the grill.
He’d cooked for her. Blake had always treated her like a princess, but that act had felt different in their relationship.
Their relationship. Did he plan to bring them out in the open? Everything he’d said and done made her feel like they were moving to a new level.
Of course, this inconvenience wasn’t going to help. Yes, she called it an inconvenience because Blake would find a way to rescue her. He’d talked about the organization his children owned. Without meeting her, she knew that they’d help because it was their father, and if they loved him even half as much as he loved them, they’d do anything for him.
Blake, I won’t give up finding a chance to escape, but my money is on you rescuing me.
BLAKE’S HANDS SHOOK like a leaf, and his heart pounded in fear. “Read it to me.”
Picking up on his distress, Jesse mouthed, “Put it on speaker.”
After doing that, he held it out enough so Randy could hear him, but the group could hear Randy. A goddamn e-mail. Her captor had to be an idiot. His son Devon could trace that in a heartbeat. Sure, some of the threats he’d received had been untraceable, but Devon hadn’t been on them. He had full faith in his son’s abilities.
“It says, ‘Get the rephase of the A10 passed, and Elizabeth goes free.’ What’s going on, Senator? Is she in trouble? Has something happened to Elizabeth?”
Randy was the one person who knew about his relationship with Elizabeth. Not only did he trust the kid, it was important that his assistant knew what Blake was doing when he was off the grid.
“What’s that mean, Dad?” Jesse asked. “I thought they were phasing out the A10s since they were so old and parts were too expensive.”
He nodded. That was the current plan, but the time line on the replacement fighter had slipped. That tidbit hadn’t been made public yet. Yet someone had gotten hold of it and was pushing for the extension. Even if they didn’t agree to one, they’d be fine. Not as strong as they could be, but the A10s, while badass aircraft, had antiquated systems that did the pilots a disservice when in the air. As a member of the Senate Appropriations Committee, and Chairman of the Defense Subcommittee, he had intimate knowledge of the project and wanted to give it a good consideration. But now this.
He pulled the phone to his ear. “Don’t worry, Randy. Everything will be fine.”
Amidst a choked protest, he disconnected the call and replaced the phone in his pants pocket.
To Jesse, he said, “It is. However, it’s only recently been brought to the committee to extend that time line. I can’t figure out if the military or the parts manufacturers are the biggest proponent of the idea. It’s still new, but it’s getting a great deal of attention since there’re advocates for both sides of the situation.”
“Where do you stand on it?” Matt asked with a hint of true curiosity in his voice.
Blake shrugged, and a slice of anger threaded through him at why she’d been taken. For political or financial reasons. Why couldn’t they just hold her for ransom? He’d empty his bank accounts and investments to see her safe. Instead, they want him to compromise himself. Possibly because they have no idea where he stood. But he wasn’t the person to approve or deny. He was just one vote. To get her back he’d have to convince others without sharing why. His stomach soured at that idea. He’d always led with his conscience.
“I haven’t seen all of the information, but I’m not opposed to it so far.” That much was true. “Only as long as we can provide safe aircrafts for the men and women who fly them.”
“How are the others on the issue?” Jesse queried. “The vote?” he added.
He shook his head in bewilderment. “I don’t know how the other committee members stand. We haven’t really discussed it yet. As for the vote, it’s not for two weeks.” He stared at his eldest son. “God, I can’t leave her with them for two weeks.” Two weeks of no telling what she was enduring hit him full force in the chest, almost knocking him to the ground. Would they respect her and treat her like a guest? Or would they abuse her and treat her like an unwelcome prisoner? He mentally sent up a silent prayer for the first one.
“Why kidnap her so early?” Emily asked.
“My guess is so he can use the time to sway the other committee members to his way of thinking. Or to the kidnappers’ way of thinking,” Jesse offered.
“I’m in.”
Blake hadn’t even noticed Devon had been on his computer the entire time. “In what?”
A grin split his son’s face. “Your e-mail.”
He didn’t know whether to be proud or pissed at the intrusion. He knew his son could do anything; he’d just rather not hear of the illegal things he did. Like hack into a senator’s government e-mail account. “Don’t get into trouble, son. My clout only goes so far.”
Staring down at the keys rapidly typing on a keyboard, Devon replied, “Don’t worry about it. They won’t even know I was there.”
“What do you want us to do, Dad?” Jesse asked.
“Get her back, as soon as possible.”
“We’ll do everything we can to bring her home to you.”
He noticed his son left off bringing her home alive. He buried his head in his hands. Stay safe, Elizabeth. We’ll come for you. He looked up, a firm resolve settling in him. “When you go, I’m going with you,” he reiterated his statement from earlier. They would not be allowed to forget he’d be participating. He knew they tried to protect him, and while he’d been black ops when he was much younger and his skills might be rusty, some things you never forgot.
Before anyone could attempt to argue, Devon cursed. “The e-mail has b
een rerouted several times. I can’t stay in long enough to track this without exposing myself. If I can even find it.” He looked around the group. “Whoever did this is good.”
That hit Blake like a sucker punch to the gut. If they couldn’t track the e-mail, how would they find her? It wasn’t like they left tracks after departing the house. Elizabeth hadn’t had a bag of beans or something to leave a trail. They had nothing.
A hand settled on his shoulder and he turned to see Jesse. “Don’t worry, Dad. We’ll find her.” The hand squeezed and Blake nodded. He wouldn’t give up.
“Okay. What do we do?” He looked at his watch. She’s been in the bastards’ hands for more than twelve hours. He stomach sickened thinking how she might be faring.
“Let’s see if we can figure out who has the biggest stake in this. I think that if we keep the aircraft in the fleet for longer than planned, people have to order parts. We’ll start with the major suppliers and see what we get. They can’t be too happy the government is cutting their income in a few years. Extending it would be beneficial to them.”
“What can I do?”
“You know the political players. Think the names over. Who might be pushing this? Who might benefit from it? Anything that is a red flag.”
With a nod, he turned to walk away but halted for a moment. “One of you can come with me and I’ll get you paper and such.”
“Dad, we need that jet in Baltimore ready ASAP,” Jesse informed him.
He’d almost forgotten his promise. Dammit, he needed Elizabeth home. With him. So they could be a family. “I’ll do it as soon as I distribute the office supplies.”
Emily followed him, and after entering his office, he loaded her up with notepads, pens, and pencils. “We’re going to print in here, so I’ll be quiet when I slip back in for the printouts.” She smiled weakly at him. “They’ll get her, Dad. You don’t need to go.”
His baby girl was protecting him. How strange his world had gotten. Never in a million years, would he have imagined such a thing. His sweet, little girl—well, not so little now—trying to take care of him. His heart expanded with love. “I’m going. I have to. Jake wouldn’t stay back when you were in danger. I can’t just sit back. It’ll kill me to wait. It’s killing me now, but that… that waiting would be my undoing.” He kissed her on the top of her blonde head, so like her mother’s. “Don’t worry, I trust my sons to have my back.”
When she left, he could’ve sworn her eyes glistened with unshed tears. He knew they’d rather he sat back and let them handle it. And he would. To an extent.
He put his mind to the task he’d been assigned. After an hour, he’d come up with nothing. No one was going out of their way to make the rephase happen. And he’d have a hard battle if he had to fight for it. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he had no idea how the other committee members would vote. There’d been comments here and there—keeping the fleet to a certain size until replacements were in place and getting rid of something so out-of-date that it puts pilots at risk. Neither side was wrong, but the A10 was still quite useful.
Realizing he’d get nowhere, he strode out of his office to see how his sons had progressed. Part curiosity led his trek. He had no idea the extent of what they could do and was interested to see, to be prouder than he already was, if that were possible.
Entering the family room, which looked more like a planning room since card tables had been erected and were covered in printouts. Side tables had also been brought out, and Emily had joined Devon with her own laptop. His eyes misted.
Waiting until he was noticed, he informed them that he had nothing that would help.
“We have a starting point,” Jesse told him. “There are three major manufacturers for the A10. It appears they each fought when the decision was made to retire it.”
Scooting closer, Blake glanced over the sheets he hadn’t even realized Emily had slipped in and collected from his printer. “Does one company have more stake in it than another?”
“No.” Jesse turned to him. “We’ll just have to check them all. It might take a bit longer, but we’ll do it, Dad.”
He nodded his belief in their ability to do this.
“We believe it’d be an owner versus the CEO, which is the same person in one case, but we won’t completely discount it. We’re just starting there. Have you ever had any problems with any of these owners?”
Jesse handed him a list, but it was like reading Greek. He couldn’t stop his adrenaline from racing through his system at the possibility of them finding Elizabeth. After finally focusing his eyeballs on the names, he sighed in defeat. He knew some of them, but couldn’t fathom them in this situation. He handed the sheet back to Jesse but grabbed it back from his grasp. “Wait a minute. If I’m not mistaken, Regina Franklin who owns Franklin Aerodynamics is the mother of Larry Thornton who owns Thornton Enterprises. If my memory is correct, she’s in a nursing home and requires constant care and he oversees everything for her.”
“If that’s the case, Larry Thornton pretty much owns two-thirds of the market. I’d imagine he’d be pretty pissed if it all went away.” Jesse shuffled the papers, looking closely at the two companies.
“He’s bid for the new fighter, but I haven’t heard what happened,” Blake offered
“Either he didn’t get it and is drawing this out until he finds something else, or he’s one greedy son of a bitch,” Devon bit out.
“Well, no matter his reason, he just became our number one suspect.” Jesse turned to Devon. “Dev, see what you can get. I want to know his properties and anything else that will help. Make sure to dig deep.”
Devon nodded and retreated to his laptop.
“Dad, we need everything you know about Larry Thornton,” Jesse demanded.
“I don’t know. I’ve only met him once. And I didn’t really like him when I did.” The knowledge of his screw-up sucker punched him in the gut. “He might’ve been near when I invited Elizabeth to come here with me.” He groaned at his stupidity. “I broke my own rule to keep personal business away from a public affair.”
DESPAIR TRIED TO seep into her bones, making her body and heart heavy. With everything she had, she fought it. Elizabeth may not have found a way out, but she wouldn’t give up hope. Her body was tired, but she refused to go to sleep. It didn’t matter that she’d only had a couple of hours before she’d been kidnapped, she would not allow herself to be at their mercy without realizing what was happening.
Startled out of her thoughts, it took her a moment to realize there was a knock on the door. A knock. How unexpected. Then a voice boomed, “Go into the bathroom, and if you try anything, I’ll shoot you. Nothing says I have to keep you alive.”
Fear skittered up her spine and her breath caught. Not wishing to risk what the man said, she scooted to the en suite on the far side of the room.
The door opened and a man wearing a ski mask entered. Again a small relief at their hiding their identities swept through her. Oh, she’d love to nail the bastards who did this, but if they hid, her chances of release were higher.
That was what she kept reminding herself.
With a tray in hand, he moved to the dresser to set it down.
Her eyes darted to the open door and hope blossomed. Could she make it? It’d be a narrow path past him. She could try. Then she noticed the weapon on his belt. No, he said he’d shoot her. It wasn’t a risk she could take.
“Eat up,” he said and then left.
She’d missed breakfast and had a feeling this was a late lunch. With no watch or clock and not being skilled enough to read the sun, she had no idea what time it was. But she was hungry. She took a step toward the meal then stopped. What if they tried to drug her? Didn’t some kidnappers do that?
Her mind whirled with how long she could go without food and water. Blake had to rescue her soon.
Not wanting to consider what could happen to her, she focused on what she needed to do when Blake saved her.
They were getting married. There was no doubt in her mind about that. If there was doubt in his, she’d find a way to dispose of that doubt.
Moving to the bed, she perched on the edge of it, her attention split between the door and the window.
A nice, small wedding—well as small as one can get with the size of his family. Family. She wished with all her heart that her daughter, Melinda, was alive to witness it. Melinda had died so young from Diamond Blackfan Anemia. It was why she’d taken up the cause.
So few people understood the disease or knew what to watch for in their children’s health. They’d found it early in Melinda, but with years of treatment—at the hospital and at home—she still passed away at ten years old.
A tear glided down her cheek at the loss of someone so precious to her. When someone recommended that she check into the Make-A-Wish Foundation, she’d almost broken down. And she’d always remained strong for herself and her daughter. That type of suggestion only meant one thing—her time was getting near. That had been something she hadn’t been prepared to handle. But she’d managed it outside of her closed bedroom door.
Melinda had surprised her with her choice of a Disney cruise. When she’d questioned her daughter, she’d said she wanted to see Minnie Mouse, and she knew that Elizabeth had wanted a cruise. That time, she’d broken down and cried while she’d held her daughter.
The daughter who knew her fate yet remained strong, not allowing the woes of the world to stop her.
Less than a year after the cruise, Melinda had gone to see the angels she swore were waiting for her.
With the back of her hand, Elizabeth swiped at the tears that streamed down her cheeks. She missed her little girl.
Melinda would’ve loved Blake. Her husband had died while their daughter was still young, so she’d never really had a father figure. Not in the years when it would’ve made an impact on her memories.
A knock sounded and she automatically scuttled off the bed and huddled in the bathroom. The same command came and she waited. Again, a man in a mask entered. He removed the tray, not commenting on her not eating, and turned to leave.
