by C. A. Szarek
Gaze darting over the scene—her house, yard, porch, even her foyer—her blood ran cold. Her co-workers were organising a search grid.
“We’ll find them.” His words were tight, sling hanging around his neck, unused as usual, and he had both hands on his lean hips. He looked tired, and was dressed much too casually for work, in denim shorts and a plain grey T-shirt.
“Find them?” Her words cracked.
Get it together, Andi, you’re a frickin’ cop.
Then Cole was there, hovering in the doorway. Silent, assessing. Her eyes shot to him and back to Pete. Her partner settled both hands on her shoulders and squeezed. “I know you taught Ethan how to use the alarm panel, but if he could, where would he go from there?”
“Ethan, alone?” Again her words were strained. She forced them out through the pain in her chest.
“It’s likely Bella is gone.” Pete’s tone was even, police-like. His manner was as hers should have been. She clung to that sentiment and took a deep breath.
“Where have you looked for him?” Cole asked, stepping forward.
“Officer Crowley is in charge of the search outside. We’re going to handle the house. Now.” Pete stared at Cole. Some sort of non-verbal communication passed between her partner and her FBI agent.
Cole nodded.
Ordering herself to calm the hell down, Andi reached for the detached police professional she was and failed, mostly. A missing child always got her right in the chest, but that feeling was nothing compared to now. This was her kid they were talking about. She shifted on her feet and looked at Pete, then Cole.
“Let’s go.” The determination in Cole’s voice put her even more in check. She would find Ethan…and Bella. And they would both be fine. There was no other option.
They split up and called his name. The longer they failed to locate him, the more ‘not here’s that were called out, the more Andi’s legs shook, gut tightened, heart threatened to exit her chest. Her eyes burned, but she ignored it and pushed through. Her baby was lost.
Logical places yielded nothing.
Then she heard a male voice outside call, “MacLaren!”
Pete beat her to the door and outside. Cole was on his heels, both broad backs blocking her view as they ran down the porch steps and around to her back yard.
“Over here,” Officer Shannon Crowley hollered from Natalie and Bella’s backyard.
Her partner hopped the four foot chain-link fence and crouched by the blue baby swimming pool that was upside down on Natalie’s covered patio.
“Squirt, it’s Uncle Pete,” he said.
A flash of red curls, and her son was in her partner’s arms. The empty plastic mould rocked as he slipped out from under it.
Cole ran through the open gate, Andi on his heels.
Face buried in her partner’s neck, Ethan repeated, “My Bells,” over and over.
She hurried to them, ignoring Cole, who bee-lined for Shannon. The officer was talking into his radio, no doubt letting dispatch and everyone listening know they’d found Ethan.
Wide blue eyes locked onto hers as she reached Pete and her son. Andi’s heart plummeted. He was so scared.
“Mama!”
She practically ripped him from her partner’s arms and held him as close as she could. Small arms shot around her neck and she tugged him closer. He buried his face against her neck, his tears wetting her skin and the collar of her shirt. Rubbing his back, she whispered reassurances until he quieted. Ethan lifted his head and met her gaze. Andi wiped the tears from his cheeks.
“Bell Bell, Mama. The bad man took my Bells.”
Andi’s stomach somersaulted with her three-year-old’s confirmation that the teen was indeed gone.
Kidnapped. Innocent, sweet Bella.
“Someone call Natalie.” Her voice cracked, her chest ached. So close. What if Ethan had been hurt? Taken? Shot?
“I’m gonna kill that bastard,” Cole spat.
“Cole,” Ethan exclaimed before Andi or Pete could answer.
Her son scrambled to get loose, so she set him down and he darted to Cole. Her temporary partner and lover swung him up into his arms and held him close. Andi watched them together. Cole soothed Ethan as she had. The little boy kept nodding his head as her man talked in a low even voice, and Andi bit back a gulp. She could not lose it. Her chest tightened, she struggled for breath. Tears hovered, but she shut them down. Not now.
Pete shot a comforting arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him for only a moment before stepping away.
She was stronger than that.
“What happened?” Andi asked, a tremble shooting down her spine.
Shannon Crowley cleared his throat. She met his whisky-coloured eyes. “The alarm company told us that he kept saying a bad man had a gun and took his ‘bells’. He kept asking for his mom and Cole. He told the operator that you and Cole had guns, but you were the good guys. After that, I’m guessing he ran. He didn’t stay on the phone with dispatch.”
“Ethan said the bad man rang the doorbell and pointed a gun at him. He said he hurt Bella,” Cole said, striding forward.
Andi bit back a wince.
“Squirt, can you remember, did the bad man have hair like mine, or like Cole’s?” Pete asked.
Necessary as it was, interrogating any child was difficult, but this was her kid. Andi’s mind screamed a protest. However, her son answered before she could comment.
“Like Cole’s,” Ethan answered, his face contorted as he remembered. “He walked funny.”
She and Cole exchanged a glance. “Maldonado,” they said at the same time.
“A gun. A big gun, too,” Ethan added, laying his head on Cole’s shoulder.
“Baby, you did so good. You climbed up and pushed the button just like we practised.” She stroked his cheek.
“I telled the lady everything.”
“Good job, Ethan,” Cole said. Her son beamed.
Ethan reached for her, and Andi pulled him from Cole’s arms, propping him on a hip. Pete stepped away, his phone to his ear. His voice was low, calm, as he asked for Bella’s mother. She ignored the guilt and worry as it skittered across her body, squeezing Ethan tighter in her arms.
“Natalie’s coming home,” Pete said, slipping his cell back into his pocket.
How could she tell her close friend and neighbour she’d found her child, when Nat’s was still missing?
“I’ll talk to her,” her partner said, as if he could read her mind.
Andi nodded, voice gone. Pete had always been better at those things than her.
The walk back to the house was filled with dread. Bella…gone. Ethan too close to danger, and Carlo Maldonado on the loose and holding all the cards.
“Detective MacLaren,” Officer Nina Ricketts called from near the front door. “Does there seem to be anything out of place, or missing?”
Andi looked around, taking a few calming breaths. No, everything in the foyer was in order, down to the potted plant she always forgot to water on the table she threw her keys on every day. “Nothing,” she answered.
Ricketts nodded, jotting a few notes on her pocket spiral, her blonde updo bouncing with the movement.
“I didn’t think so,” Pete murmured “But I told her to ask you anyway.”
She set Ethan to his feet, but he didn’t go far, looping his arms above her knee.
“It’s like a smash and grab, so Maldonado,” Cole said.
“Do you think he’ll hurt her?” Pete asked.
“No. He’s needs her in one piece if he plans to sell her.”
Andi swallowed hard. Natalie would never forgive her. She would never forgive herself. How the hell had he found out where she lived? And why Bella?
“He’s after me,” Cole answered, as if he’d read her mind. “Leverage. I would bet money on it.”
“So now what?” Andi asked.
“We wait.” His jaw was a hard line.
“No. We need to find her,” she sai
d.
“We won’t have to wait long. He wants me. He’ll contact us.”
“But we don’t—” Andi’s statement was cut off by Bella’s mother’s appearance in the doorway. Her brown eyes—a match for her daughter’s—were bloodshot and her scrubs a mess. She’d rushed right from the hospital.
“Andi?” Natalie’s voice shook. Her friend was all mother, like Andi had been. Nat’s persona of the strong trauma RN was in the background.
Andi rushed forward and pulled Nat into her arms. Her long-time friend trembled from head to foot. She soothed her as best she could, smoothing her short dark hair and whispering to her.
As a mother, she had empathy. The moments before they’d got home, her worry for Ethan had been paramount, only to worsen when they’d failed to locate him right away. She wouldn’t be able to cope without him. But Nat wouldn’t be without Bella for very long. As a cop, Andi would get Maldonado.
“Where’s Bella?” she asked. Tears cascaded down her cheeks.
Pete appeared at her side with a tissue box. Natalie snatched one, but did nothing more than hold it. “We’ll find her,” Andi’s partner said.
“How could this have happened?” Natalie asked through a new sob.
Andi stared. What could she say?
“I got this, partner. Go be with Ethan and Cole,” Pete whispered in the vicinity of her ear.
She nodded numbly and watched Pete gently guide her neighbour into the living room and sit her down on the loveseat. He dragged the ottoman from the other side of the room and took a seat in front of her. Their low tones didn’t carry, but Natalie’s crying did. Andi winced.
The cops in the room said their farewells and ‘call if you need us’ to Cole and the cavalry outside started to recede, but the weight of the world settled itself on Andi’s chest.
Ethan was in Cole’s arms again. Emotions swirled in her head and heart. She ignored a shiver as a wave of guilt over Bella fought the rightness of her son and the man together.
“Stop, this is not your fault,” Cole whispered, pulling her to his side with his free arm.
“I never said it was.” Since when did he know her so well?
“It’s written all over your face,” he answered, a smile playing at his lips. He squeezed her against his side.
Cole held Andi and Ethan tight to him, dropping a kiss on her cheek. “We’ll get her back. I promise.” His tone held conviction.
She looked into his steel eyes and nodded, throat constricting, mouth dry, leaving unsaid, Yes, but in what condition?
When Ethan reached for her, she grabbed his small hand and clung to it.
Chapter Eighteen
Carlo tied the girl’s hands behind her back in the dimness of the office at the rear of the warehouse. The same warehouse where he’d killed Gains and Reese. Blacked out windows offered no light, but he could manage with the lantern he’d got at Wal-Mart.
And if she didn’t shut her goddamn mouth, he was going to gag the pretty little bitch. She whimpered when he yanked the ropes tighter.
“What do you want from me?” she demanded, her attractive mouth a hard line. Her dark eyes shot daggers at him.
Carlo smirked. “Your sweet ass.”
He whipped her around and yanked her close, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers.
She yelped and tried to squirm away from him, but he jerked the rope and she froze, her breasts pushing into his chest. Small and firm, they needed a good squeeze.
“Don’t touch me,” she spat.
Chuckling, Carlo took a step back and pressed her into the chair, intentionally brushing her chest with both hands.
The girl gasped and bit her plump bottom lip. Her eyes were shiny as they caught the lantern light. He’d scared her. Good.
“Are you a virgin?”
She glared at him again. Damn, was the little bitch bipolar?
“Excuse me?” she asked.
Carlo looped ropes around her calves and ankles, securing her to the chair and flashing a smile as he straightened. He tugged his shirt in place and ran a hand through his dark hair, propping his ass on the nearest desk top.
“Just a question.” He shrugged.
Her eyes narrowed, but she said nothing.
With a growl, Carlo flew off the desk and gripped her face, digging his fingers into her jaw. She tried to shake him off by jerking back and forth, but he squeezed until tears welled again. He tilted her cheeks up, studying her.
Maybe he wouldn’t care either way. He’d always liked the feisty ones. Sinking into her sweet body would be worth the loss of money if he’d be the one to pop her cherry. Her lips had hinted at her innocent flavour. Perhaps he should give it another go.
Carlo had time before Caselli’s reinforcements were supposed to arrive.
“Have you ever had a real man? Blondie doesn’t count.”
Her eyes widened and she averted her gaze. A tremble racked her slender frame when he rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. Tears cascaded silently down her cheeks, wetting his fingertips.
When he released her, she looked away, head hung low, dark hair curtaining her face. “How do you know about Matt?”
“So loverboy’s name is Matt. Has Matt ever parted your thighs?”
She didn’t look at him, but her face reddened and she shivered.
“Tell me the truth.” Carlo tapped her shoulder. “Things will go easier for you.”
“I’m a virgin.” She met his gaze head on. “He respects me.”
Carlo threw his head back and laughed. “Only because he’s burying his cock in someone else’s sweet pussy.”
The girl gasped and he laughed harder. He caressed her cheek, but she yanked away from his hand.
“Oh, the things I could teach you if I had time.”
“No.” The whispered word was punctuated by the frantic shake of her head.
Grinning, Carlo cocked his head to the side. “You don’t get to pick, baby.”
Her shoulders slumped and she bit her bottom lip. “Are you going to rape me? Is that what you want?”
“Unfortunately your virtue is safe from me…for now.”
Breath exiting on a whoosh, she stared at him. “Then…why? What do you want?”
“What’s your name, sweetness?” he asked, ignoring her question.
She glared. The spunk was back and his cock twitched. “Don’t call me that,” she snapped.
“I’ll call you whatever I want.” Carlo leant down, tapping her nose with his fingertip. He flashed a smile as he read the disgust in her eyes. “You’re the one tied to a chair in this scenario, or did you forget?”
She set her jaw in a firm line. God, she was a hot little thing.
“Bella. My name is Bella.”
Carlo grinned. “Figures. Fitting.”
“Huh?”
“Do you know what your name means in Italian, sweetness?” He ran two fingers from her temple to her cheek.
Damn, he could barely keep his hands to himself. He needed to get laid.
Bella nodded, but Carlo spoke anyway. “Beautiful. It means beautiful, and that’s just what you are.”
“Don’t touch me,” she ordered, but her voice shook.
Carlo wiped her tears away with both hands, but Bella winced. “Aw, c’mon. I won’t hurt you. Don’t believe me?”
He continued his caresses down her neck, shoulder and arm as it curved around the back of the chair, but her tremors only increased.
He scowled. “Listen, Bella, relax, or I’ll give you something to cry about.”
Her dark eyes widened and Carlo leaned close, their noses almost touching. “Please don’t hurt me,” she whispered.
“Do what I tell you when the time comes, and you got nothing to worry about.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see.” Carlo caressed her face. Her lip trembled, and he was torn between the hard-on his zipper was biting into and smacking some sense into her. But bruises damaged value, and this one w
as worth a shitload.
After bending over, he quickly undid the ropes containing her legs and feet, pulling her from the chair into his arms. She froze, uncertainty etched in her expression as he ran his hands over her long silky hair. “Bella Bella.” Continuing to whisper to her in Italian did nothing to relax her in his hold, though her arms were still bound. But Carlo wasn’t stupid enough to free them. The girl was still a firecracker.
He pulled her mouth up to his, claiming her forcibly. She fought him, wriggling, but he tightened his hold on her face, forcing her lips open and shoving his tongue inside. Damn, she was sweet, innocence palpable.
Could he keep her? Dangling her in front of Lucas would still get him to come after her. Bruno could still have the FBI agent, and Carlo could leave with the girl. If he could weasel enough money away from Caselli, it could work. Teeth sank into his tongue, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth with the sharp agony. Carlo yanked his mouth away with a loud curse as her knee shot up. Hands on her upper arms, he tilted his hips just in time to save his boys, but her jab landed upper thigh, jarring his injured side as well as the bullet-ridden leg. Breathing was a struggle as pain radiated and he fought doubling over.
“Fuck. Fuck,” he muttered through clenched teeth.
She slipped from his grip and spat. “Asshole.”
As pain took over his form, he didn’t have a retort ready as she darted from the office and into the darkened warehouse.
“Son of a bitch,” he growled as he straightened, taking one deep breath, then another. Forcing himself to get it together, he reached for his gun.
Where the hell did she think she was going?
* * * *
“I don’t need back-up, Liv. I have a whole PD. I was just letting you know what’s going on,” Cole said into his cell, pacing her living room.
Andi’s eyes tracked him, her stomach in knots. Five hours and nothing, and now it was almost ten.
Maldonado had Bella. No telling what he was doing to her.
Don’t think about it. Be a cop. Handle this.
Pete had taken Natalie next door, along with Ethan. Her friend had told her taking him would give her something to do. With the excitement, he’d been up way past his bedtime. Her partner had kept them both calm, but that was just Pete. Her little boy had even flashed a smile or two. He’d be fine—kids were resilient. Irony swirled around in her brain. How many times had she reassured parents with that phrase?
