Give and Take (Ties That Bind Book 1)

by Claire Cullen

  He didn’t look back, hoping against hope that Sam wouldn’t be back out too soon. No one called after him as he reached the end of the street and turned left, towards the cab idling by the footpath. When he’d told Sam he was contacting Diego, he had ordered the cab instead. As he climbed in, he didn’t let himself look back. This was his problem, and it was in his hands to ensure everyone stayed safe while Sam got justice for the people Russell had wronged.

  “Where to?” the driver asked

  “Head toward the city center.”

  His heart was in his mouth as he made the phone call. A familiar voice answered, smooth and deep. “Hello?”

  “Russ. It’s Drew. I want to meet.”

  Sam got caught up briefly in the chaos of Jed’s home as his friend struggled to feed an excitable Toby, the toddler having decided that running around making airplane noises was more fun than eating lunch.

  After helping corral Toby and get him strapped into his high chair, he borrowed the keys for the garage, getting the doors open and heading out to Drew and the car. The first thing he noticed was Drew’s absence, and he jogged back into the house through the front door in case he’d followed Sam inside.

  “Have you seen Drew?”

  “No. Didn’t you say he was outside?”

  “He was. He’s not there now.”

  Sam ran back out and checked the car. No Drew. But the evidence Diego had left them was still there. As was the backpack. He glanced up and down the street, spotting a neighbor mowing their lawn.

  “Hey, did you see my friend? He was right over there next to the car.”

  The man shook his head before adding. “I did see a man walk past a few minutes ago, going that way.” He gestured towards the end of the road.

  Sam followed the road until he came to the junction, his eyes searching for Drew. The only person within eyesight was a woman in pink, jogging on the opposite side of the road. He waved at her and she stopped, pulling out her earphones cautiously.

  “Did you see a man go by? Mid-twenties, five-foot nine, dark hair, blue-shirt.”

  She shook her head. “Sorry. I saw an older gentleman about half a mile back. And a mailman.”

  He thanked her and turned back. Jed was outside the house when he returned.

  “Any sign of him?”

  Sam shook his head. “I think I need to call it in.”

  He braced one hand against the car as he pulled out his phone, catching sight of Diego’s package through the window as he did. Yanking open the door, he read the message scrawled awkwardly across the envelope.

  ‘Sam, I can’t let anyone else get hurt. I’m giving Russell what he wants. Me. Get the information to someone who can do some good with it. Drew.’

  Jed stepped closer, crutches clicking on the ground, and read it over his shoulder.

  “At least you know he left of his own volition.”

  “He’s walking into the lion’s den, Jed. I don’t think he realizes he won’t get out of it again.”

  “If you’re right, and this Russell is as dangerous as you think he is, then you can’t go it alone anymore, Sam. You need help.”

  “You’re right, I do.” And he knew just where to get it.

  His team, sans him, were on duty that day. Tom listened intently as Sam told him everything in as few words as possible. Well, almost everything. To give him the full picture, he had to explain Matt, too, tamping down on the feeling that somehow he was betraying his best friend.

  Tom called the rest of the team into the room and gave them an even briefer version.

  “Do you have his cell phone number?” Warren asked.

  Sam called it out, adding. “He’s not answering it.”

  “I’ll see if it made or received any calls recently and access the GPS, if it has any. We may be able to track where he’s going.”

  Tom sent the rest of the team out and a heavy silence settled over the room. Sam was sitting at their oblong table where the team gathered for briefings and post-call debriefs. Tom didn’t sit, standing next to his chair, and leaning back against the edge of the table.

  “I’m sorry, I know I’ve made a mess of things,” Sam offered, reading the frown of disapproval on Tom’s face.

  “As far as I can see it, the only real mistake you made was not telling us sooner. We’re your team, Sam. And you’ve been dealing with all this alone. I’m not just talking about Drew. I’m talking about Matt and you trying to support him these past weeks and months. Who’s been supporting you? No one. Why? Because you didn’t trust us enough to come to us with this. I’m guessing maybe there’s a reason for that. And for why you’re putting your neck on the line for a guy you barely know. It’s more than the fact you know his brother.”

  Tom bent down, making steady eye contact. The one thing Sam hadn’t come clean about seemed to be the one thing he was zeroing in on. Was he going to have to say it? Breaking eye contact, he stared down at his lap. Tom sighed, leaning forward, and resting a hand on his shoulder.

  “People like who they like, Sam. They love who they love. Good choices, bad choices. We’re all just human. It doesn’t matter to me and it doesn’t affect you being on this team. Right now, we need to focus on finding Drew and getting him somewhere safe while we get these—” He leaned back, tapping the envelope Sam had brought. “—to someone who can use them.”

  Sam looked up, reassured to be on less shaky ground. Having a mission, an objective, something he could do, was infinitely better than being trapped alone with his swirling emotions.

  “I need your head in the game for this, Sam. Can you do that?”

  “Of course.” He meant it. This was what his training was for. To be able to put aside personal feelings and emotions, to focus on a task and follow orders. Even months out of the army and he was every bit the soldier he’d been before he left.

  There was a knock on the door and Nate, one of the dispatchers, stuck his head in. “Sam, there’s a call for you. Someone called Diego. He said it’s urgent.”

  “Drew’s reclusive friend?” Tom asked. Sam nodded, taking the phone Nate held out to him.

  “Put it on speaker,” Tom said.

  Sam hesitated. “This guy doesn’t trust me already. I don’t want to antagonize him.”

  “Then be straight with him, ask him first, tell him who I am.”

  He held the phone up to his ear. “Diego?”

  “Sam.”

  “Listen, I’m here with my boss, Thomas Fielding. Can I put you on speaker? Drew’s gone and we’re trying to locate him.”

  “Fine, but hurry up, I haven’t got all day.”

  Sam pressed the button and set the phone down on the table between them.

  “Diego, my name is Tom. Sam tells me Drew took off an hour ago. He thinks he went to find Russell. Can you shed any light on that?”

  “That’s why I’m calling.” Diego sounded impatient, and in the background, Sam could hear the click of a keyboard. “Drew called Russell from his cell an hour ago. Russell gave him a time and an address where he would meet him.”

  “How do you know—” Sam started to ask but Tom waved him off.

  “Russell has call recording software on his phone. It’s not very sophisticated.” Diego didn’t say any more, but the inference was clear. Diego had access to it.

  “The reason I’m calling is that I believe Drew is in more imminent danger than either of you realize.”

  “What makes you say that?” Tom again, cool and collected.

  “Russell boarded a plane to San Francisco this morning. There’s no way he could be meeting Drew at the address he gave him. Thus, you’d have to wonder who or what Drew is going to find there.”

  “Russell is tying up loose ends.”

  “That’s what it looks like. I’ve sent you the address and GPS coordinates. You’ll be hard-pressed to get there before Drew does. Try, won’t you? For both our sakes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Drew’s call with Russell was sho
rt and to the point. Russell called him back a few minutes later with an address for them to meet. “I can be there in ninety minutes.”

  “I’ll meet you there,” Drew promised, hating how weak his voice sounded.

  The cab driver wasn’t willing to take him out that far, instead leaving him in the city center. He got on a bus that would bring him most of the way there, and sat on a seat, fingers twisted in his lap as the rush hour traffic slowed them down.

  Sam kept ringing his cell, and each time he had to talk himself out of answering. He knew Sam would drop everything and move mountains to help him, but he wouldn’t risk him or Matt any further. Sam had the information to take Russell down and Drew could distract Russ for long enough that by the time he realized what they’d done, it would be too late.

  Clambering off the bus an hour later, he realized he was still a good twenty minutes’ walk from where he needed to be. Russ would not be happy if he was late. Not that he’d be happy at all.

  When he reached the destination, a little out of breath, he had to stop and check that he had it right. But no, this was it. An old, derelict warehouse in an industrial estate that had seen better days. There didn’t seem to be anyone around and he pushed the gate open, wincing at the long screech of its hinges, and walked inside. Rounding a corner, he found a car parked, with two men next to it, one of them sitting on the bonnet, the other pacing next to it.

  “Where’s Russell,” he asked, trying to see into the back of the car. It wasn’t Russell’s usual mode of transport, the car at least a decade old and in need of a good clean.

  “He’s inside,” the man at the bonnet said, smiling and gesturing towards a door. “After you.”

  Drew’s stomach was doing flip-flops, but he forced himself to move, past the men and into the darkness of the warehouse. The place looked even worse from the inside. Empty shelves, bits of cardboard boxes here and there. Muted light filtering in through dirty windows.

  He paused for a moment, allowing his eyes to adjust before moving inward. There was no sign of Russell.

  “Russell, I’m here, like we agreed,” he said, jumping when the door closed behind him. He turned to find the two men had followed him in and they’d been joined by a third.

  “Where is he?” he asked.

  “Not here,” bonnet man said. “We’ll just get you comfortable then we’ll give him a call.”

  Drew shook his head, taking a stumbling step back.

  “No, I agreed to meet with Russ. If he’s not here, then I’m leaving.”

  “He’s very eager to hear from you, but he had a prior commitment,” the man said, almost as if Drew hadn’t spoken.

  All three men moved forward, surrounding him, and Drew knew he’d made a mistake, misjudged Russ’ actions. This was about drawing him out, but not about getting him back.

  Two of the men grabbed him by the arms, dragging him further into the room before forcing him down on his knees, his back to the door.

  The third man picked up a rickety chair and set in it in front of Drew. He withdrew a tablet from his jacket, opened it and started pressing buttons.

  “Damn thing isn’t…” he muttered. “No, wait. There.”

  He did something with the cover of the tablet that allowed it to stay upright as he sat in on the chair. At first, all Drew could see was a blank screen with a small square in the upper left corner showing his own scared face.

  Then the screen lightened, and there was Russell.

  “Andy, my clever boy. You’ve been running me ragged these past few weeks.”

  Drew struggled not to be cowed by Russ, even though the man literally had him on his knees.

  “I couldn’t stay, Russ, not after—” He fell silent.

  “Of all the young men I’ve met, working their way up in the world, I’ve never had such high hopes as I had for you, only to have them dashed down to the depths of disappointment.”

  “Russ, please. I just want this to stop.”

  Russell sighed. “It will, I promise. But there are things I must know.”

  “What things?”

  “When you left so suddenly for the second time. Was there a reason? Perhaps something you learned, something you read?” Russ’s eyes flashed dangerously.

  “No. Things were just different between us. I know you felt it too.”

  “Hmm.” Russ didn’t take the bait. “But you’ve been living with this police officer.”

  “He’s just a friend of a friend. I needed a place to crash.”

  “He’s a friend of your brother. Tell me, how long were you two in contact before you ran off?”

  “We… we weren’t. Logan arranged everything. I only met Sam when I got there.”

  “You would say that, wouldn’t you? The truth is, you betrayed me. Personally and professionally. I should have put a stop to things that night after you broke into my computer. But I was weak. I had such hopes for you and I wasn’t willing to let them go so easily. My mistake.”

  Russ’ words made him even more certain he’d been judging his actions as those of a spurned, hurt lover, and not as the cold and calculating businessman Drew knew he could be.

  “That wasn’t your mistake. Your first mistake was committing fraud and having someone murdered because they wouldn’t sell their company to you. Your second was leaving me alone with your computer and all the evidence of your crimes.”

  Russ laughed. “Andy, such spirit, such potential. It’s a pity you didn’t apply it to something useful to the company, to me. What good is knowledge without proof?”

  “I have proof. All the documents I sent by email.”

  Russ shook his head. “That failed to send, remember?”

  “It isn’t hard to spoof a ‘message failed’ email, Russ. Even you should know that.”

  Russ’ easy smile faltered. “You have the proof? Where is it?”

  “It’s too late Russ, the police have it now.”

  “That’s unfortunate. But I suppose it can’t be helped. And, with no one to corroborate where it came from, its value is limited.”

  He sighed again.

  “I think this is where you and I part ways, Andy. Young and foolish. I’ll have to be more careful with my choices next time.”

  He felt rather than saw the third man step up behind him, and the press of something cold and hard to the back of his head.

  “I want my face to be the last thing you see. I take no pleasure in this, Andy. It’s just business.” He nodded, and Drew squeezed his eyes shut. There was a bang, the noise deafening to his ears.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The next thing he knew, he was lying on the ground, his ears ringing, and something heavy pinning him to the floor.

  Distantly, he heard shouting, the sound of boots pounding on concrete, then the weight lifted off him. He tried to move but there were hands on him, pushing him down, patting across his body. He could see booted feet near him, hear voices that he thought were far away until he realized they were right above him.

  The hands patting him down turned him over and he found two strangers peering down at him. One, an older man, leaned forward and held his gaze while the other ran impersonal hands over his front and checked his pockets.

  “Are you hurt, Drew?” That was the older man. His words sounded tinny and odd.

  “I… I don’t know. I don’t think so.” His whole body felt numb, his fingers tingling.

  “He’s clean, just a phone and wallet,” the other man said.

  “Who are you?” he asked, his eyes roving from one man to the other.

  “It’s okay, Drew. We’re Sam’s team. My name is Tom, and this is Gary.”

  “Sam’s team?” He wasn’t following. The men helped him sit up.

  Tom nodded, speaking into his headset. “Can we get Sam in here, please?” He turned back to Drew. “Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

  “He was going to shoot me.”

  That he was now a body lying on the ground next to them seemed o
nly a distant concern.

  “Yeah, he was. But we got there first.”

  Tom’s hand was on his shoulder, pressing firmly. The touch grounded him and he took in a deep, shuddering breath.

  “Drew?” Sam arrived in a rush of movement, kneeling next to them.

  “He’s okay, Sam. Shaken up but not hurt.”

  “I’m sorry, Sam. I thought Russ wanted me back, but he didn’t, he just wanted me out of the way.”

  “Yeah, we figured as much.”

  “How? How did you find me?”

  “With my team, and Diego’s help.”

  Sam’s hand replaced Tom’s.

  “I’m so sorry,” Drew said again, conscious of all the eyes on them.

  “It’s okay. You’re safe and that’s what matters.”

  “You’re going to need to come to the station with us, Drew, to answer some questions,” Tom added.

  “Of course. Russ and I were speaking, on video-link through a tablet.” He glanced towards the chair which had fallen on its side.

  “We can talk through all that at the station,” Tom said again. “Let’s get you up.”

  They helped him to his feet, Sam wrapping an arm around him when his knees threatened to buckle and his vision grayed out.

  “He’s probably in shock,” he heard someone say, the voices distant again. He was hustled out of the warehouse and found himself sitting in the back of an ambulance, a blanket around his shoulders as an EMT checked him over. Distantly, he noted specks of blood on his skin and clothes and tried not to think too hard about where they’d come from.

  Tom and Sam stood outside, waiting until the medic pronounced him healthy. Feeling foolish, he clambered back out, more steady on his feet this time, and let them lead him to a car. He sat in the back with Sam, Tom and Gary in the front.

  Desperate to talk to Sam, he couldn’t say much more than sorry with so many people listening in. How much did they know? What had Sam told them? And what would happen now?