Abducted Heart (Z-Series)

by Jerri Drennen

  Her gaze locked on to his lips, which he ran his tongue over to seal the deal.

  “Of course. I'll show you to his office,” she said with a slight hitch in her voice. The gesture made him smile inwardly. Clearly she was struggling to retain her composure.

  Good. He needed to keep her thinking he was interested. That way she wouldn't question her decision and come to check on him.

  At the end of the hall, she turned to face him. “Can I get you something while you wait? I just made a fresh pot of coffee.”

  “No, but I appreciate you asking.”

  She smiled, then turned and headed back the way they'd come.

  Lynch entered the office and glanced around, frowning at the sparseness of the room. On the way down the hall he'd noticed a few of the other offices and they looked nothing like Brent's.

  He shrugged off the thought and closed the door. He walked to Brent's desk. No picture of Casey anywhere. Then again, the man was getting a divorce—maybe he'd removed them all.

  He pulled open the top desk drawer and found the basic pens, paper clips and such. He closed it and moved to the side drawer that was stuffed with files. One titled personal stuck out, and he pulled the cream-colored folder from the bunch. Inside were bank deposits for large sums of money, all coming from the same wire transfer number.

  Why was he getting a bad feeling here?

  Lynch leafed through more of the papers and found that same money going out to another account.

  Something didn't feel right about these transactions. The account was Brent and Casey's.

  He quickly folded the papers and stuck them into his pocket. He'd show them to her. Maybe she could tell him what they were for. He closed the drawer and moved on to the next. It was locked. Why would his step-brother need to secure a drawer in his office?

  Lynch wasn't going to wait to find out. He dug into his pocket and extracted the small kit he always carried with him. He pulled a small metal pick out and worked the lock until it clicked. Then he yanked the drawer open and found a brown manila envelope with an elastic string wrapped around the outside. He released the strap and opened the flap. Inside were folded papers. Lynch extracted them and quickly scanned the documents. They were life insurance policies on Casey, adding up to a half a million dollars, with a double indemnity clause.

  A neon sign of betrayal flashed before him.

  Lynch went through the rest of the papers. No life insurance policy on Brent.

  Why?

  What the hell was going on here?

  A gut-sick feeling worked its way up Lynch's throat, tightening his trachea off. The kidnapping. The money in the safe. The break in.

  No. He had to be wrong. It was his distaste for Brent making him think the worst.

  But what if he was right?

  That Brent staged this kidnapping to get his hands on some money? Using Casey to do so?

  But why? Using such tactics?

  That was what Lynch intended to find out before he told anybody anything—especially Casey.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Casey glanced over at Zack, who held the attention of every woman in the room—all eleven of them. She'd expected her friends to be put off by her bringing him to the party, but he'd turned out to be the entertainment for the afternoon—or at least what they seemed to want to look at.

  She turned to Megan, the momma-to-be sitting in a white wicker chair, rubbing at her expanded belly as she stared at Zack as if he were the answer to a late-night craving. Casey could just imagine if Lynch had come. They'd have had him backed into a corner, hoping to have their own baby shower eight months from now.

  The thought sent a cold sweat surging over her body. Just being here today brought back events in her life she had hoped she'd buried. But the minute Lynch walked into her home, those long ago secrets resurfaced and threatened to wreak havoc on her sanity again.

  “Are we going to open presents?” Casey's question forced her friends to look away from the only man in the room.

  “Yeah, I guess we should,” Chelsea, her closest friend said, her gaze still focused firmly on Zack, who seemed to be staring back with a measure of interest.

  Casey could hardly blame him. Chelsea Reese was a stunning redhead, with a body that hours of teaching Zumba classes had toned to perfection. Her eyes were the color of an Irish shamrock, inherited from her mother's birthright.

  Casey and Chels had been friends since grade school, and she loved her like a sister. So, she thought it best for her not to make a play for Lynch's friend since both men lived in Virginia. Too far away to try and start anything romantic.

  Best she remember that, as well.

  “Chelsea, why don't you hand Megan a gift to open? We're going to have to get going soon, and I'd like to see what everyone got for the baby.”

  “Okay, sure.” Her friend handed a striped, pink and mint colored wrapped box to the pregnant woman.

  Megan took the present and ripped the paper off. Inside was a tiny floral design dress. Everyone oohed and aahed the next half hour until the gifts were unwrapped. All but Zack who leaned against a wall, arms folded across his chest, looking as bored as a teenager at a church function.

  She'd made him sit through enough.

  Casey rose from her seat next to the mom-to-be. “We have to go. I'll call you in a few days.”

  Chelsea met them at the front door. “Can I treat you two to a drink somewhere?”

  “No!” Casey could've kicked herself for sounding so abrupt. But she couldn't have her friend finding out about Brent's abduction. “Sorry, Chels, but it's not a good time. Maybe we could get together for lunch tomorrow.”

  “All right.”

  Casey knew her friend wasn't pacified by the invitation. Not when her narrowed eyes emitted a ring of burning fire. Another thing she'd inherited from her mother—her Irish-Catholic temper.

  She ushered Zack from the house. The two needed to get home to make sure they didn't miss the kidnappers’ call. Not to mention finding out if Lynch had learned anything at Brent's office.

  On her way to the car, her cell phone rang. She reached inside her purse, took the phone out and clicked answer.

  “Casey,” Lynch said, his voice low.

  “Is something wrong?” She glanced at Zack, who was now glued to her.

  “I wanted to find out if you two were still at the party.”

  She turned away from Zack. “We just left. Why? Did you find out anything?”

  “I have some papers I want you to look at.”

  “Okay. We'll be back at the house in twenty minutes.”

  “Great. I'll meet you there.”

  Casey ended the call. There was something odd in Lynch's tone. Like he was keeping something from her. But then, he'd hidden the fact that he never loved her the whole time they were together and she hadn't realized it until he was gone. He'd left her to deal with the aftermath of their relationship. She should hate him for that, but she couldn't, even though he'd caused a hole in her heart so big that nothing or no one could fill it—not even Lynch himself.

  *

  “Can you tell me what these transactions were for?” Lynch asked, watching Casey's reaction as she glanced over the papers he'd given her.

  She looked up from the log, her face draining of color. “I have no idea. This account is one we rarely use. We thought it best to have two separate accounts just in case someone was able to access out the main one. That way all our money wouldn't be tied up.”

  “So, you have no idea what these wire transfers are?”

  “No. I don't.”

  “If the bank was open, we could go down and see if we could find out where they came from and where they went.” Maybe that was actually why Brent chose the weekend to orchestrate this elaborate ruse. Lynch was almost positive Brent was behind his own kidnapping now. That the break-in was a home invasion that was supposed to have gone bad—leaving Casey dead.

  In walks the grieving spouse to collect a million dollars
with only him left to know the truth. Brilliant plan. Except his ex-step-brother hadn't counted on Casey calling Lynch. Why should she? A man she dumped all those years ago. Brent knew about everything, was there to collect her the minute he went off to boot camp.

  Asshole.

  When Lynch got his hands on Brent, he was going to kill him like he'd planned to do to Casey.

  All for money.

  Why did he need cash so badly? Did it have something to do with those wire transfers?

  “What are you thinking?” Casey’s question drew him back to her.

  No way could he tell her the truth. She'd be heartbroken. After all, this was a man who she once loved. Betrayal in the worst way.

  Lynch was furious. He'd make his step-brother pay, but first he needed to find him.

  “What was he doing, Lynch?”

  He shook his head. “I don't know. But I intend to find out. What I'm going to tell you next might upset you, Casey, but you need to listen to me. When the kidnappers call tonight, I want you to tell them you weren't able to get the money. You need to get to an account at the bank in the morning.”

  “They could kill Brent if I do that.”

  “I don't think they will. You have to trust that I know what I'm doing. This will give us some time to find out where those transactions were going.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. “All right. What are we going to do in the meantime?”

  “Right after the abductor calls, I want to go to some of Brent's hangouts. Do you know what he does when he's not at work or at home? How about friends? Could we possibly talk to them? Maybe they could give us a clue as to why he was kidnapped.”

  “Brent doesn't have any friends. That was an issue with us since I liked spending time with mine. I think he was jealous.”

  That didn't surprise Lynch. He never could get along with Brent, and he'd been forced to spend time with him.

  “How about credit card receipts? Do you have any that might lead us to where Brent spent time?”

  “They're in the office we share.” She took off down the hall and opened the door leading to a nice sized, beige colored room with all dark walnut furniture. A large wooden desk sat in front of the only window.

  Casey walked behind the desk, riffled through a handful of files, and pulled out a folder.

  She scanned the papers until she stopped on one, looking up at Lynch, her eyes wide.

  “What?”

  “I didn't know he had this credit card. He owes twenty-five thousand dollars on it.”

  Zack whistled from the doorway. “That's a chunk of cash, and you know nothing about it?”

  “No. I'm starting to wonder if I know my husband at all.”

  Casey didn't know the half of it if Lynch's suspicions were correct. He pointed to the bill. “Can I see that?”

  She handed him the paper, and he studied the charges, noting a number of them were for a place down on the French Quarter.

  That's where they were headed as soon as the kidnapper called. Lynch wanted to know what Brent spent two-hundred-fifty dollars a pop for, even if it hurt Casey to do so.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Casey hadn't visited Bourbon Street in years, though apparently her husband had been spending plenty of time and money where that particular road met Canal. The sound of smooth jazz music let loose from a club a few doors down, and the pungent smell of alcohol and fried food had her stomach rumbling.

  She glanced at Zack, who was clearly seeing the French Quarter for the first time since his eyes were huge as he took it all in. Too bad they weren't here to enjoy themselves. They'd come to find out where Brent racked up a huge bill.

  The thought of her husband brought back the conversation she'd had with his kidnapper an hour ago—how angry the man had sounded when she'd told him she didn't have the money. He'd become quiet, and she was afraid he'd gone off to kill Brent, but he had finally agreed to wait. Said she had until Monday morning to get the cash, or she'd find her husband dead on her doorstep.

  She hoped she'd done the right thing.

  “You okay?” Lynch asked beside her.

  Casey nodded, then turned away. Every time she looked at him, her heart started a crazy fluttering that made her head swim. Or perhaps it was the fact she'd barely eaten anything in days.

  “Whoa.” Zack drew her back to the two men, who were now staring at a large picture window where a half-naked woman stood posing seductively and gesturing for them to come inside.

  “This is the place,” Lynch said.

  “What do you mean?” Casey swallowed hard. Were they planning on getting a lap dance from the woman? The idea made her sick. “I'm not going in there. If you two need to get your rocks off, you're doing it alone.”

  “What are you...no, Casey.” Lynch shook his head. “This is the place where your husband charged money on that credit card.”

  Her jaw slacked. Yeah. She didn't know her soon-to-be-ex at all.

  A wave of dizziness had her clutching for the nearest object, which happened to be Lynch.

  He caught her before she went down.

  Casey's face smacked into his chest, and the intense scent of pine instantly revived her. Being close to him made her body go haywire. Her nipples puckered against his hard pectorals, causing her belly to spasm.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  Casey glanced up, the concern in his gaze almost sending her to her knees again. Why did this one man have such power over her mind and body? The last ten years seemed to vanish like they'd never happened. As if she were that teenage girl again, hell-bent on shredding her innocence with the first man her daddy wouldn't approve of. Lynch had been the one—falling head-over-heels in love with him the moment his lips touched hers.

  How could she not have adored him? He'd stepped in to save her from a fight she'd caused between two very scary bikers, then whisked her away in his beat-up old truck to a place where she'd become a woman in his arms. Lynch had been her knight in shining armor. Straight off the pages of a romance novel, and making love to him had been the most monumental experience of her life. Something she hadn't even come close to feeling since he left. Too bad with those incredible sensations, came the worst heartache of her existence.

  “Casey, are you all right?” he repeated.

  His question drew her from the memory.

  She sucked in a breath and nodded. “I'm just upset about all this, and I forgot to eat today.”

  He frowned. “Zack, take Casey down to that restaurant, and we'll all get something to eat. I'm going to step in here for a moment and see if anyone remembers Brent.”

  The idea of that woman in the window pawing at Lynch sent Casey's stomach into her throat. But no way could she say anything. Not when he was here to find out information, not pacify her.

  *

  Lynch entered the adult entertainment club and was instantly bombarded by two women on a spotlighted stage having a good time with one another. A few weeks ago he might have taken pleasure in the peep show. Now, it just seemed more of a turn-off than anything.

  He started for the back of the room. Hopefully, he could show a picture of Brent around and find out how his step-brother spent his and Casey's money.

  At the end of the large, oval-shaped bar, he was met by a voluptuous blonde in a skimpy getup.

  “I saw you enter and thought, this is going to be my lucky night.” She flashed him a glimpse of her nipple from beneath the barely-there bikini top. “Can I interest you in a lap dance in one of our private rooms?”

  “I came in to get some information.” Lynch removed the picture of Brent from the back pocket of his jeans and handed it to the woman. “Do you recognize this guy?”

  “Yeah, I've seen him in here a time or two. I think he's one of Janette's customers.”

  “Who's Janette?”

  “She's the brunette on the main stage.”

  Lynch glanced back at the two women, surprised that both performers seemed to be watching
him as they touched each other.

  He returned his attention to the exotic dancer next to him. “So, what does two-hundred and fifty bucks get you in here?”

  She shrugged. “That depends on if this is an offer or a shakedown?”

  “I'm not a cop.” Lynch laughed. “The guy in the picture stole my credit card, and I wanted to know what it bought me.”

  “Well,” she said, moving closer to him, “Janette will do just about anything for money. Two-hundred fifty dollars could buy a lot of blow for her.”

  “I see. I appreciate your candor.”

  “Okay, then help this girl out and take me up on that lap dance.”

  “I would but I have people waiting outside.” Lynch reached for his wallet, extracted two twenties and tucked it into the strap of her bra, then winked and started for the door.

  There was no harm in lying to the woman.

  Lynch's brush with Casey earlier had him certain no other women would do. Yet being with her again wasn't going to happen.

  Outside, he looked left to right, feeling nostalgic for the first time since he'd been back in New Orleans. Ten years was too long not to visit. During his teen years, he'd spent a lot of time on the French Quarter, though his mother would have grounded him for life had she known.

  His father's drunken ways had shaped him—made him angry and he'd acted out. Alex Jackson had helped rein him in again. That summer, he'd met Casey, and his whole world seemed to look up. She was everything and then some. Made him want to give her the best. Too bad her father disapproved and didn't care if he knew it. The man had come right out and said he'd make sure Casey came to her senses. She obviously did once he was gone.

  Christ. Why was he reliving this again?

  She had decided he wasn't what she wanted. He could deal with that now.

  He stepped out the door and walked toward the pub, a place known for its delicious sandwiches and specialty ales. While he was here in the Crescent City, he'd get a taste of what he'd been missing.