That was why she’d gone to Kyle for help.
Megan and Faith were the only family Bethany had that mattered. She’d do anything for them, dysfunctional though they maybe.
“How do you three know each other?” Kyle asked.
“Why does that matter?” She glanced at Kyle and clenched her hands tighter together.
“I’m trying to understand the situation as best I can.” He eased the car to a stop at a red light and turned to face her. “I don’t mean to pry, but sometimes I have to so we can find the asset.”
“Asset?”
“Sorry.” He shook his head. “That’s what we call the person we’re trying to find.”
“There’s terminology for this kind of thing?” She slid down further in her seat.
“We have a whole business based off it. Most of what we do isn’t in the states though.”
“What exactly is it you do?” She’d heard stories from Mr. Martin, but they never totally made sense.
“In fancy words, I work for a company that does asset retrieval. We rescue people who have been kidnapped or held against their will or with no legal right, then bring them home.”
“You save people?”
“We save people.” Kyle glanced at her and the corners of his mouth turned up.
It wasn’t a smile. She’d never call something so fleeting a smile. But it was the first expression she’d seen on him that wasn’t stony or silent. He had to stay in her intimidating man box. He fit well in that category, from his size to that stare. And yet, she couldn’t get the image out of her mind of Kyle bending over his Dad to grab that last smoldering cigarette, put it out, and pull the blankets up to keep the old man warm. A man who’d undoubtedly been a cruel parent.
“How do you even get into something like that? I went into nursing because every nurse I met seemed to have all the answers.” Bethany had wanted solutions, to fix things. She’d had a different path picked out for herself back then. She never would have seen herself working for a home hospice company.
“I knew a guy who worked for Aegis Group. They invited me on.”
Bethany was willing to bet there was more to the story than that. She knew from Mr. Martin that Kyle was a SEAL. It seemed logical that she was only seeing the tip of the iceberg.
“I don’t think I ever said thank you for dealing with my dad. I thought when they put him in hospice it was a matter of weeks or a month. No idea he’d hold on for a year.” Once more Kyle glanced at her at a red light. “I know he was a pain in the ass to deal with. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure.” That was Bethany’s routine answer to family members no matter the patient’s level of difficulty.
“Bullshit. You said that before. We both know my dad was a cranky, old bastard. You’re the only nurse that lasted longer than a month with him.”
Bethany opened her mouth to deny the fact, but she couldn’t. Truth was she’d stuck with Mr. Martin because no one else would and she’d learned a few things about dealing with overbearing men. He might not have deserved it, but his family—Kyle—did.
“Was he always like that?” She cringed and hoped the question wasn’t overstepping boundaries.
“He used to be worse.”
Bethany swallowed.
Worse?
“I think he was nicer with you. Mom was a nurse,” Kyle said.
“Nicer?” Bethany clamped her lips shut. Mr. Martin had a colorful vocabulary and a wide variety of names he liked to use around her. In the beginning he’d even brandished his cane at her, but toward the end even that was beyond his ability. He’d often made her visits a trial of patience, but they’d gotten on as best they could.
“Yeah.” Kyle shook his head.
“You’re glad he’s gone then?”
“Hell, yes. Maybe that makes me a bad person, but I’ll live with it.” He turned the wheel, and they eased to a stop at a set of wrought-iron gates. “This should be us.”
Bethany understood that feeling. When she’d broken up with her ex and left her family to dote on him and his broken heart, she’d been happy. Even now, she missed her family, but not enough to go back.
They peered past the gates up to the property beyond. The green lawn somehow only made the two-story mansion seem larger and more expansive.
“Did your friend ever mention her family was loaded?” Kyle asked.
“No.” Bethany swallowed.
Then again, Megan wasn’t big on sharing, period. The past wasn’t something they made a point of discussing.
Kyle used the buzzer at the gate to gain entry. Whatever he said, she couldn’t hear past the pounding in her head. Kyle eased the car down the curved drive. They couldn’t go very far. Cars and a few cop cruisers were parked in the way.
“Holy shit...” Kyle shifted the Mini Cooper into park. “Megan Hunt. I should have seen that coming.”
“I missed something...” Bethany kept staring at the house.
“City Council President Elijah Hunt,” Kyle said, like that should mean something to her.
She turned and stared at him.
“It’s an election year.” Kyle grimaced.
“I still don’t understand.” She finally turned to look at Kyle.
“I can understand why your roommate might not want to have anything to do with her family.” Kyle’s gaze roved the building. He braced his hand on the back of her chair and leaned closer. “It just so happens that Elijah Hunt’s niece, Crystal Hunt, is my boss’ wife’s best friend.”
“That’s good?”
“It’s something.” Kyle’s gaze slid to her. It might be her imagination, but he seemed less cold and distant. More human. She hoped that now his father was gone he could find some happiness. “Do you want to wait here? I get the feeling it could be uncomfortable inside.”
“I’m coming.” She released the catch on her seatbelt. He was doing her a favor by helping her look, but he didn’t owe her that. She needed to know what was going on so she could focus on finding Megan.
“Okay.” Kyle got out of the car.
She inhaled deeply, her head buzzing slightly. It was as though he’d taken up all the oxygen, and now with him gone she could breathe again. She had to get over this. Kyle had never been anything except polite to her. Given his complicated relationship with his father, the coolness made sense. She was a reminder of his father. Of course he’d want her gone.
Her door opened and Kyle held out his hand.
She stared at him for a moment, the offer as unexpected as his taking control of the search.
Bethany wasn’t used to asking for help, especially from a man. But right now he was the best thing she had going for her.
“Thanks,” she mumbled and grasped his hand.
He helped her out of the car and shut her door for her.
“Beth?” Kyle squeezed her hand.
“Yeah?” She glanced up at him and swallowed. She wished things were different. That she’d met him somewhere else. Kyle was the kind of guy worth taking a chance on.
“We’re going to find her, okay?”
When he said that, she believed him. She didn’t know why, but the knots in her stomach loosened and the buzzing nerves grew quiet so she could hear herself think.
Bethany didn’t know Kyle Martin well, but she trusted him.
FRIDAY. CANDLELIGHT Theater, Seattle, Washington.
Jay Diaz pried the back door of the condemned building open. He squeezed through the narrow opening then peered out into the alley.
There wasn’t a soul out there to observe him.
Good.
He pulled the door shut, descending into darkness. The smell of damp earth and rotting wood were the most prevalent odors. Dust tickled his nose. Rodents scurried in the rafters. Other than that, there was no indication he wasn’t alone.
Perfect.
He pulled a knit mask out of his pocket and pulled it on to disguise his face.
It had taken him months to pick the perfect sp
ot. After more than twenty years it was becoming difficult to not repeat locations. The Candlelight Theater had been on his radar since it first shut down six years ago, but up until now it wasn’t a wise venue to pursue. Potential investors. People interested in reviving the historic landmark. Too many transient or homeless squatters.
A year ago the city had begun cracking down on this part of town in an attempt to revitalize the area. By Jay’s estimation it would take several more months before those with deep pockets were drawn to the area, which meant this was his window. His perfect play time.
He jumped down off the stage, landing with a thud.
The sound echoed through the building.
He grinned and strolled down the aisle between the chairs, whistling to himself.
He’d developed a routine. An expected line-up. But this time he was going to change it all. It was why he’d needed more time. There was the location to scout. He needed the proper prey. It was so much more than scratching an itch. This was going to be the biggest high he’d had since the beginning.
Tonight Faith and Bethany would be home. They had habits, routines he could appreciate. The funny thing was he might even miss knowing they were gone in a week or so. He’d spent so long watching them, making sure they were perfect, that he’d allowed himself to become closer to these three than any woman before them. He rarely knew the other’s names, what they did. These three were special, which meant everything had to be special.
Jay descended into the theater’s basement from the main lobby. The dampness gave the cold air a wintery bite. He shivered and kept going. The lanterns he’d left to light the way gave off just enough light to pick his way through the debris down to what would have been the boiler room in decades past. He’d picked it because of the thick walls and sturdy door.
Once more he checked over his shoulder before unlocking his sanctuary.
“Mother, I’m home.”
3.
FRIDAY. HUNT FAMILY Home, Seattle, Washington.
Kyle rang the doorbell and peered through the frosted glass around the door of the Hunt home. He could see figures moving around, hear muted voices. If it weren’t for the cop cars, he might assume this was some kind of pre-election thing. As it stood he wasn’t sure what they were walking into.
The door was whisked open by an older woman with a silver bob haircut, bright blue eyes wearing a white blouse with a sweater hugging her shoulders like a cape and a gray pencil skirt. Her smile faltered a bit. They weren’t who she was expecting.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked.
“Are you Mrs. Hunt?” Kyle asked.
“No, I’m Loribelle. Friend of the family.” She smiled and clasped her hands in front of her. She actually seemed as friendly as her smile implied. “And you are?”
“Ma’am, my name is Kyle Martin. I’m with Aegis Group. This is Megan Hunt’s roommate, Bethany Rossi.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet, producing a business card. He rarely used these, but in this setting the more official he could pretend to be, the better. “I’m looking into the disappearance of Megan Hunt. Are you or the family aware she’s missing?”
“Yes.” Loribelle rocked back in her pumps, eyes wide. “Everyone is very worried. The family is preparing a statement now. You’re looking for her you said? Come inside, please?”
The woman ushered them into the home and closed the door behind them.
The interior was fairly standard old money. Lots of wood, antiques, clean lines, random arrangements of flowers on every flat surface. Couple of oil paintings that looked like an unsupervised toddler’s design. A staircase curved around the foyer leading to the second floor. To the left the double doors opened onto a formal dining room with a capacity for at least twelve.
A couple of police officers and several men in suits stood around the table. A stoic woman clutching a tissue sat next to a man talking in an animated fashion to the others was the focal point.
Elijah Hunt.
“They’re going over Mr. Hunt’s final comments for his public statement about Megan,” Loribelle whispered.
Kyle took another step so he could see into the room and take stock of those present.
Most were men. White. Fifty appeared to be the median age. The beat cops hung back away from the others. They clearly didn’t want to be here as evidenced by the way they kept as much distance between them and the closest people. The rest wore suits. It was easy to pick out the campaign officials based on the fit of their jackets. There were only two men out of place in this crowd with their threadbare sports coats.
Kyle glanced at the patrol officers, then the two on the other side of the room.
Scratch his earlier assessment.
The uniformed officers were looking at everyone except those two.
Why? Who were they? Someone else in law enforcement?
“We love our daughter. We just want her back,” Elijah said staring around the table.
Odd.
Kyle backed up and glanced at Bethany. Her wide eyes had a bewildered look to them.
How was Megan so loved by her family when her roommates didn’t know who her parents were?
Kyle smelled something rotten about this situation.
Bethany turned her head and stared at him. The weight of her fear and the hope she’d placed in him threatened to make his knees buckle. That sort of pressure wasn’t usually on him directly. It went first to the company, then to Kyle. But she wasn’t a paying client. If he didn’t find Megan, this was on Kyle’s shoulders.
“Elijah?” Loribelle stepped into the room. “Megan’s roommate is here, and this man is from—Aegis Group?”
All eyes turned toward Kyle.
Great.
That was Kyle’s cue. He took a step forward and nodded at the City Council President.
“Afternoon, Mr. and Mrs. Hunt,” he said.
“It’ll have to wait.” Elijah glanced at his wrist watch. “The press should begin arriving any minute.”
“They’re already gathered on the terrace,” Loribelle said.
“You are aware your daughter is missing?” Kyle pitched his voice over the quiet murmurs in the room.
“What do you think this press conference is about?” Elijah stood, straightening his jacket.
Kyle closed his mouth.
He wasn’t a profiler, but he’d done enough search and rescue to know that shining a light on the bad guys didn’t always improve a situation.
“Is that Megan’s roommate?” Elijah pointed behind Kyle.
He glanced at Bethany, doing a great impression of a deer caught in headlights.
“Yes, this is Megan’s roommate,” Kyle said and stepped sideways to block her from view.
“I need her. Someone give her a tissue.” Elijah strode out of the dining room through a secondary exit. The men in suits followed in his wake like the dam Pied Piper, leaving the two beat cops behind.
Bethany grabbed Kyle’s hand and backed toward the front door.
“I can’t go out there,” she whispered.
“You don’t have to.” He turned his hand around, grasping hers.
Kyle didn’t know Megan, but he was beginning to understand her. Growing up in a house like this, where people were staged and used, it would make anyone distant.
The two officers stepped through the double doors, speaking in low voices.
“We need to make some new friends.” Kyle squeezed her hand again and turned towards the cops. “Excuse me? Hi, Kyle Martin.”
The two officers stopped in their tracks, eyeing Kyle with wary gazes. He held out his right hand, giving them no option.
“I was told the cops weren’t looking into Megan’s disappearance yet.” Kyle glanced at Bethany, who was still sheet white. “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes. In fact, I’d prefer if we could help each other out.”
The officers shared a look.
“What does that mean? That look? And why wouldn’t you look at those t
wo...detectives? They were detectives, weren’t they? What’s the real story?” Kyle had a nagging suspicion that something wasn’t right about all of this.
“I’m afraid we can’t share details,” the shorter officer said.
“Wish we could help,” the other said.
The two officers stepped past Kyle, and all but sprinted for the front doors.
Something was up. Something bad.
BETHANY COULD FEEL the sweat tricking down her sides and spine.
She could not go on camera. That wasn’t an option. Her dad was a news junkie. If she went on camera, he’d see her and then tell Anthony.
“Bethany? Beth? Hey, look at me?” Kyle cupped her face, forcing her to look at him.
She stared up at Kyle, his unwavering gaze offering a tether to here and now.
“That’s my girl. Take a deep breath for me, okay? In.” Kyle sucked down a breath.
Bethany did as he asked, filling her lungs with oxygen.
“And out,” he said.
She exhaled and ducked her head.
“Better?” Kyle’s fingers stroked her cheeks.
“Yes.” She swallowed and forced herself to meet his gaze. She couldn’t hide. She’d promised herself to stop letting fear win. Panic didn’t solve anything.
“You don’t have to participate in this dog and pony show, understand?” His stern mouth said he’d go to bat for her on this. He’d shield her. Protect her.
Bethany nodded because she couldn’t speak around the lump in her throat.
“Good.” He pulled his hands away, her skin still warm from his touch. His voice softened, pitched lower for her ears along. “What just happened there? Where’d you go?”
“I’d prefer to not talk about it. At least...not right now.” She tried to smile, but her face wasn’t cooperating.
“Okay.” He didn’t hesitate. There was no judgment, no pity.
Since the moment she’d shown up at Kyle’s house today, out of options and fearing for her friend, he’d stepped in and shouldered the responsibility that should have been hers. He deserved more than her trust. Her pitiful history was a small thing in the scope of what they were dealing with.
Dangerous in Charge Page 3
