As he approached the stables, the scents were swapped for hay and horse manure. Not in a bad way, though. Xander tugged on the massive sliding door that opened to the stable and stepped inside. The door on the other side had been left open, not an uncommon thing. It gave the horses some fresh air and kept it from being so stale inside. As he walked along the stalls, his other thoroughbreds-in-training stuck their curious heads out to see who might be visiting at that hour. Xander continued past them toward King’s Ransom at the far right-hand corner of the barn. The moonlight was coming in the open door and shining directly on his stall. Xander couldn’t see his head yet. You couldn’t miss it if it was there. Ransom was a behemoth among giants. Xander figured the old boy was probably lying down for a nap.
The closer Xander got to his stall, the more a strange and foreign scent met his nose. A very metallic scent. Not a common smell at all for the stables, so it really stood out. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Not until he peered over the stall door and looked down at the ground, then it became horrifyingly clear what the metallic smell was.
Blood.
The sight inside the stall nearly knocked Xander off his feet and the apple fell from his hand as he lost control of his ability to hold on to it. There on the hay-and-dirt-covered ground lay his beloved King’s Ransom––his body completely separated from his head. The amount of blood in the stall could have been mistaken for an oil spill. It was everywhere. Xander was having a hard time processing what he was seeing. He opened the door to the stall and stepped inside. Blood pooled around his slippers. Ransom’s head sat about a foot from his body, his eyes still open. Frozen in a look of shock. Xander’s heart dropped and emotion flooded his being. His throat tightened and his stomach clinched as he dropped to his knees in the gap between body and head. One hand on Ransom’s massive, but cold, front quarter, the other rested on his neck, just above the mess of torn muscle and bone. He was so caught off guard that the shock of the moment stole his air.
Xander was so overcome that he just continued to stare down at the lifeless body of his beloved friend. Images of him frolicking in the pasture came over him. The moment when Ransom crossed the finish line at the Kentucky Derby, laying the blanket of roses across his back in the winner’s circle, and the day he first saw him at the yearling auction all played across his mind like an old home movie.
And just as soon as it appeared, suddenly it was gone. The beautiful movie playing in his mind’s eye disappeared, and it was replaced by the most horrifying thing that Xander had ever seen. He was so distraught over seeing his horse dead on the floor of that stall that until that moment, he hadn’t even noticed.
On the wood-planked back wall of the stall, directly in front of him, was something that scared him in a way that he had never been frightened before. In messy print handwriting, written in the blood of his dead racehorse, scrawled out in big bold letters were two simple and bone chilling words . . .
Natalie Rockwell.
King’s Ransom
XK3
Bradley Wright/King’s Ransom Books www.bradleywrightauthor.com
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Cover Design by DDD, Deranged Doctor Designs
King’s Ransom/ Bradley Wright. -- 1st ed.
ISBN - 978-0-9973926-2-3
Copyright © 2017 by Bradley Wright
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.
For My Brothers,
You know who you are, and you know that blood isn’t the only thing that makes you family. Thank you for the laughs, the tears, the dumb decisions, and the shoulders to lean on after I’ve made them.
“Hard times don’t create heroes. It is during the hard times when the ‘hero’ within us is revealed.”
-Bob Riley
“On wrongs swift vengeance waits.”
-Alexander Pope
1
Gone Girl
A relentless ray of bright golden sunshine beamed through the one open slot in the curtains and fixed itself to the forehead of Special Agent Sarah Gilbright. Like a laser beam of “good morning” sent from the heavens themselves, just for her. She would have rather it picked on someone else. Drowning in the fog between dream and reality, Sarah instinctively moved her hand in front of her eyes to shield nature’s alarm clock. Beginning to rouse, she moved her hand across the bed next to her. Xander King’s bed. Empty. Her hand had meant to find the warmth of Xander’s skin; instead, it found only the smooth feel of cold silk. This pulled her clear of her morning fog, and she sat upright, took in the empty bedroom around her, and shot a look of death toward the window that had not so graciously pulled her from slumber. Her long blonde hair fell down along her back, and her aqua-blue eyes peered at the empty stretch of bed beside her.
“Xander?”
Sarah called toward the open bathroom door. Nothing came back to her. She thought for a moment that the smell of bacon tickled her nose. Maybe. She maneuvered a beige ponytail holder off of her wrist and pulled her hair back behind her head. She’d had a bag of her things at one point, but it stayed on the plane with Marv and Mary whom she had left behind in Moscow. It was most likely in Langley, Virginia, right now. A place that she had despised before, but CIA headquarters was going to be a much more pleasant place to go to work now that William Manning was no longer at the helm.
Sarah slinked out of bed, naked as the day she was born. She had the body of a model, but the thing she figured Xander liked most about it was the fact that it could also kick a little ass when necessary. However, she wasn’t naive; his lips had spent the better part of a half an hour on her body last night, so it wasn’t all about what she could do but also how she looked. The thought of his mouth on her, and the thought of his chiseled body on top of hers, sent a warm ache through her. Thinking about how he wasn’t the slightest bit shy about showering her entire body with attention last night made her tingle. She needed some more of that. She walked across the dark hardwood floor toward the bathroom door, poked her head in, and slumped her shoulders in disappointment when she saw that Xander was not inside. She thought maybe he was the source of the wonderful bacon aroma she imagined catching a whiff of a moment ago. With that hope, she opened Xander’s chest of drawers in search of something comfortable and appropriate for breakfast. And who knows, maybe she could convince him to have her for dessert.
* * *
Kyle Hamilton stabbed the edge of the bacon with a fork, turned it, and laid it back down in the skillet. The bacon made that frightful popping sound, and before he could pull his arm away, a spot of scalding hot grease attacked his forearm like a bee protecting its hive.
“Shit!” Kyle leapt back from the frying pan as if his arm were on fire. Sam couldn’t help but laugh at seeing the tall, dark, and handsome manly man, which Kyle had turned out to be, hop away from the skillet like a mouse from a cat.
“You okay there, big boy?” Sam chuckled.
Kyle’s face was red. Maybe from the heat of the stove, maybe from embarrassment. He would never tell.
“You make fun of me and I won’t share my bacon.”
“Oh, you’ll share that bacon.” Sam walked toward Kyle.
The sunlight from the open windows in the room behind Sam wrapped her in a warm yellow glow. Her long black hair hung below her shoulders, and the tight black V-neck T-shirt and grey, second-skin yoga pants hugged every curve on what Kyle found to be quite an outstanding body. If he hadn’t already known it, seeing her on this calm and harmonious morning, after the nightmare of the past couple of weeks, he sure as hell could feel it now. He was smitten.
“Or wha
t?” Kyle played back.
Sam shot her hand for the fork, but Kyle managed to pull it away. A half-wrestling-match-half-tickle-fight ensued as they played around the kitchen for a moment. Finally, Sam managed to claim the fork, but Kyle was able to turn the tables, his hands on her arms, wrapped around her from behind. Her hair smelled of lavender. After only a second of struggle, Sam called “Uncle!” and when Kyle let go, she turned into him, taking his eyes in her own. Kyle’s stomach dropped. He would’ve sworn up and down that she desperately wanted to kiss him in that moment. Samantha Harrison, the woman who had merely tolerated him for years just because he was Xander’s best friend, now seemed to be, at the very least, entertaining the idea that he could be something more than a playboy. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t get to find out just yet, because Zhanna Dragov had just sauntered into the kitchen. It was still odd to Kyle, having her in the house, since she was the daughter of the man that tried to kill all of them. But she had been instrumental in helping them take her father out.
“Am I interrupting?” Her Russian accent was thick, her hair red like fire. It was in that second, seeing the gorgeous Russian walk into the room, that Kyle realized he just might never be anything but a playboy. He should just leave the romantic feelings to Xander.
Sam quickly backed away, and Kyle went back to his bacon. Kyle answered Zhanna over his shoulder as she took a seat at the kitchen table. “Nope, just cooking up a little breakfast. You want fried or scrambled eggs?”
“However you are making yours is good. Any coffee?”
Sam took a seat beside Zhanna at the table.
“Coffee’s in the pot, beside the sink.”
“Perfect. Would you like?” Zhanna asked Sam.
“I’m already one cup in, but thank you.”
“How about you, Kyle?”
“Sure, I’ll have some more. Thanks, Zhanna.”
Zhanna went to the coffee pot and poured herself a cup.
“This place is beautiful,” Zhanna announced as she blew on her coffee and peered out the window overlooking the back of Xander’s horse farm. Beyond a magnificent lagoon-style pool lay a stunning landscape of plush grass-covered rolling hills. “Why they call this Bluegrass State when grass is so green?”
Kyle laid the last piece of bacon onto a paper-towel-covered plate and turned toward Zhanna with a surprised look on his face. She shrugged her shoulders. “What? You think I am not educated? You think I have not heard of this bluegrass? It is one of many things your Kentucky is known for.”
Kyle smiled. “I am sure you are educated, Zhanna, but it does surprise me that you have heard about bluegrass.”
“So, why it’s not blue? Why do they call this green grass bluegrass?”
Sam chimed in, “I have always wondered this myself.”
With Sam’s British accent and Zhanna’s Russian accent, Kyle felt like the kitchen had turned into a small version of Disney’s Epcot.
“Okay, well, the grass itself isn’t blue,” Kyle started.
“Obviously.” Zhanna sipped her coffee.
“But, in the spring, the seed heads of the grass are blue, and if left uncut, they can grow to two or three feet. If you were to find an unmowed field of grass anywhere around here, it would look unmistakably blue.”
Sam gave a laugh. “Look at you, Professor Hamilton.”
Sarah Gilbright walked into the room. “Professor Hamilton? What does he teach? STD awareness?”
Zhanna and Sam laughed. Kyle didn’t.
“Ha-ha. Good morning to you too, Sarah.”
“Anybody seen Xander this morning?” Sarah didn’t waste any time.
Sam gave a wry smile. “We figured he was upstairs shagging you again.”
Sarah blushed. “Wha—what? We didn’t—”
“Don’t waste your breath, Sarah. The walls are impossibly thin, young lady.” Sam didn’t let her off the hook. Zhanna and Kyle oohed and aahed in jest.
Sarah’s face turned from blushed to maroon.
“Okay, okay. All right, you guys. Yuk it up.” Sarah waved them away as she walked toward the coffee. “Seriously, though, none of you have seen Xander?”
Everyone shook their head.
“I’ve been up since seven and I haven’t seen him. Just figured he was exhausted like the rest of us.” Kyle turned and looked out the window. “I think he mentioned something about King’s Ransom leaving for Belmont this morning. I’m sure he’s just out at the stables seeing him off. That horse is like his kid. He wouldn’t want them to take Ransom without seeing him first.”
“That’s true,” Sam agreed.
“I’ll leave him some coffee. Hey, anything on the news about Dragov and Moscow?” Sarah asked.
Xander and company had been put through the wringer in Moscow. Kyle wondered how Xander was feeling about everything this morning. He hadn’t checked the news, but he was sure that the assassination of the world’s most notorious crime boss would have overtaken the airwaves. Unless, of course, Kim Kardashian had taken another half-naked selfie and posted it overnight. Far more of Kyle’s concern for Xander was about his father, however, not Dragov. The thought of Xander having to go through the terror of killing his own father sent a chill down Kyle’s spine. He shook it off and answered no to Sarah’s question.
Sam and Zhanna said no as well, so Sam, out of curiosity, turned on the television on the back wall and flipped the channel to the news. A reporter was standing outside of what Kyle and Sam recognized as the Hotel Le Bristol in Paris, France. The same hotel they had stayed at the night after Syria, and the same hotel where Xander’s now-famous crush, actress Natalie Rockwell, was still temporarily living.
They all listened in horror to the report on the television. There was no news about a half-naked selfie, and there was no news about Vitalii Dragov. This news was much, much worse.
Thanks, Jeremy. I am standing just outside of the posh Paris hotel, Hotel Le Bristol, where Hollywood sweetheart Natalie Rockwell had been staying while filming her new movie.
The words “had been staying” sent yet another chill down Kyle’s spine. He knew what was coming was not going to be good news. He just hoped Natalie wasn’t dead.
I just spoke with the police chief here in Paris, and he told me that a couple of hours ago, at approximately ten a.m. local time, the maid walked into Ms. Rockwell’s suite and began cleaning as she normally would. When she got to the bed, she found a note on the pillow and immediately took it down to the hotel manager. The note contained only one short and frightening sentence:
“It will take a King’s Ransom to get her back.”
When I asked the chief what he made of it, he said he had no idea what it meant, but no one has seen nor heard from Natalie Rockwell since she wrapped on set last night. The film’s director—Samuel Hoderburg—said she didn’t make it to the shoot this morning. Something he said she had never done.
Needless to say, the drama surrounding Natalie Rockwell is at an all-time high as it appears she has been kidnapped. I will be here all day and night bringing you the very latest on this scary time in the young starlet’s life. Back to you, Jeremy.
Jeremy continued with commentary about the missing Natalie Rockwell, but no one in that kitchen heard a word he had to say.
“You have got to be bloody kidding me,” Sam said as she turned to Kyle.
Everyone in that kitchen had to pick their jaws up off the floor.
“Where the hell is Xander? We have to find him before someone else tells him about this!” Kyle sat his piece of bacon back down on the plate as everyone else gathered around him. “I’ll check the stables. Sam, you check the garage. Zhanna, you and Sarah check downstairs and see if he’s in the workout room or in the shooting range. Hopefully he doesn’t have the TV on.”
Just as the three of them were about to disperse, the doorbell rang.
They all froze and turned toward Kyle. Kyle didn’t say a word; he just shot toward the front door. On his way there, which took a matter of s
econds, the doorbell rang several more times.
Urgent.
Kyle swung open the door, hoping to find Xander. Instead, he found Gary Trudeau, King’s Ransom’s trainer—doubled over at the knees, gasping for air, sweat pouring down his face.
A streak of panic bolted through Kyle.
“Is it Xander?”
Gary took a deep breath. “Is he not here?”
“We can’t find him, Gary, what is it? What’s wrong?” Kyle braced himself for the worst.
Two minutes, a half-mile sprint, and two near panic attacks later, Kyle, Sam, Sarah, and Zhanna were standing in front of King’s Ransom’s stall in the stables just behind the main house. Hearts in their throats, fear wrapped around their entire beings. There at their feet lay Xander’s pride and joy—and the Kentucky Derby winning Thoroughbred horse—King’s Ransom. Split in half. His head separated from his body. A lake of blood beneath him. The words Natalie Rockwell were scribbled in blood on the wood planks covering the back wall. It was then that Kyle and the three ladies understood the kidnapper’s ironic note left on the pillow in Natalie’s hotel room. “It will take a King’s Ransom,” the reporter had said. Kyle obviously hadn’t seen the note, but he knew without a doubt that the words King’s Ransom were capitalized on it. The kidnapper was taking responsibility for the death of Xander’s horse, toying with Xander. Pouring salt in the wound.
Xander King BoxSet Page 50
