Abducted Heart (Z-Series)

by Jerri Drennen

  Casey held her breath, terror taking hold. She was going to die. She might as well resign herself to the fact now. The psychic’s words echoed in her head. Betrayal. Only one person could evoke that now.

  The man moved closer, and Casey stared up into the eyes of her husband.

  Lynch indeed had it all figured out.

  “Why aren't you surprised to see me?” he asked, studying her face.

  “Lynch told me everything.”

  Brent's eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “He found the insurance policies. He knows this was an elaborate ruse to kill me for money. I guess the ransom was just a bonus.”

  “Who else knows?”

  “Your father, for one.”

  His face turned dark with fury. “Why did you have to bring him into all this?”

  “Why did you gamble away so much money, Brent?” Casey was still working at the ropes at her wrist. The only way to save herself was to get free.

  He shrugged. “I got caught up in it. Once I was behind, I kept thinking next time I'd score. That payout never came.”

  “So you thought stealing money from your company was the answer?”

  He looked surprised that she knew that part, as well.

  “Harrah's refused to let me inside the building without giving them some of what I owed. I'd already tapped our accounts, and my father as well. I had no choice.”

  “You had a choice, Brent, and you know it.”

  “Right. Little Miss Perfect. Except you aren't perfect, are you, Casey?”

  She turned away. She didn't want to get into this with him. “What are you planning to do, Brent?”

  He smiled. “I plan to take the money you got from your daddy and leave the country. I could live quite nicely in Mexico for a long time.”

  “What about me? I assume by telling me where you're going that you're not planning to let me live?”

  He shook his head. “I don't have to kill you, Casey. I just have to leave you here. You'll last maybe a few days without water.”

  Tears filled Casey's eyes. The man standing before her was evil. Pure and simple. But why? What made Brent the way he was today? Alex certainly had nothing to do with it, but what about his mother? She'd always given Casey the creeps.

  “How do you think your parents will feel about this? Alex knows you were going to kill me for money. What about your mother?”

  His eyes widened. This was a subject she and Brent never discussed because the man would always change the subject. “Why don't you ever talk about her?”

  “Shut up. I don't need this.”

  “What did your mother do, Brent?”

  “Nothing,” he snapped then started to pace the floor.

  Clearly the subject made him agitated. But why would the woman who gave birth to him upset him so much? Could she have possibly caused what had triggered Brent to become the clear sociopath he was today?

  *

  Lynch and Zack had scoured the place from one end of the cemetery to the other. Lynch couldn't believe how easily Casey had just disappeared. Literally in the blink of an eye. Or in his case a trip over a headstone. A granite monument he was still baffled about.

  “What are we going to do now?” Zack crossed his arms over his chest. “It's almost dark.”

  “We need to check the crypts. She has to be inside one. No way could Brent have dragged her out of here without us seeing.”

  “I'll go back to the car and get a flashlight.” Zack started for the entrance to the cemetery, and Lynch took in a ragged breath. Where are you, Casey?

  He had to find her. He'd never forgive himself if he didn't.

  Something the psychic said came rushing back. Remember the angel? What had she meant by that?

  Now he was grasping at straws.

  With a sigh, he took off down a row of plots, stopping at the large mausoleums to see if the doors were unlocked. As he neared the center where Casey had vanished, off to his right he saw a crypt that had a carved woman with large billowing wings. An angel.

  This is crazy. That woman was a fake. There was no truth to anything she said. Except when she mentioned that Casey was in trouble, and that he knew it.

  “You find something?” Zack's question had Lynch sucking in a ragged breath.

  “This might be crazy, I know, but remember what that so-called psychic said? Remember the angel?”

  Zack looked blankly at him. “Not really, but okay.”

  Lynch pointed toward the monument.

  His friend looked at the structure. “There's no harm in checking.”

  The two took off at a fast pace, then walked up to the door.

  Zack flipped on the flashlight.

  Lynch placed his hand on the handle and turned, surprised when it opened. “Give me that.” He took the light from Zack and stepped inside, shining the beam around the room.

  A movement caught his eye and he stepped over to the left-hand corner. He streamed the light down and there on the floor, a gag in her mouth, her arms and legs tied, was Casey.

  Lynch let out a relieved breath and dropped down to work the cloth from her mouth.

  “Lynch,” she said, her eyes filled with tears.

  “Are you hurt?” He ran his hands over her body.

  “I don't think so.”

  Lynch untied her hands and feet, then helped her up.

  “What happened? One second you were there, then you were gone.”

  “You were right. It was Brent. He took the money and said he was going to Mexico. He planned to leave me in here to die.”

  Lynch hissed. “I'm going to find the bastard and kill him.”

  “He's not worth it, Lynch. Just let him go. Let the men he stole from find him.”

  “No. I'm going to see that your husband pays for what he's done. You let him go off to Mexico and you might never see him again.”

  “How are you going to find him?”

  “Zack, I want you to take Casey home. I'm going to the airport. I suspect he'll be trying to book a flight now that he's got cash.”

  Casey grasped his forearm. “Take me with you, Lynch.”

  “No. You've had enough excitement for one day. Let's get to the car. We don't have time to spare. Brent will probably catch the first flight he can get, even if it's headed in the wrong direction.”

  Close to Bourbon Street, Zack dropped Lynch off, and he waved a cab. On the way to the airport he had a chance to think about the psychic’s prediction. It had to have been one. If the woman was right about the angel, what about all the other things she'd said? What about that headstone? Had it just been a coincidence, or did Casey have something she needed to tell him?

  “We're here,” the driver said, startling him back to what he had to do. Find Brent and wring his frickin' neck.

  Lynch paid the fare and jumped out, racing through the terminal doors. Inside, he glanced at the departure and arrival boards. From what he could tell, no flight was leaving for another twenty minutes.

  He took off toward the ticket windows, hoping he'd get lucky and spot Brent booking his flight.

  All the major airlines had long lines, yet he didn't see anyone who could be Brent in disguise.

  “Dammit all to hell,” he said, drawing two elderly women's attention who stood in front of him. They shook their heads and turned away.

  For all Lynch knew, Brent could already be waiting on a plane.

  He stalked toward the gates, stopping before he entered airport security. No way could he go in. Not with the Glock tucked behind his jacket, or no ticket.

  Lynch was forced to turn around. Talk about a wild goose chase.

  Feeling defeated, he started for the exit, his anger taking hold. Brent was going to leave town, and Casey would be left to clean up his mess. All his debt was hers. An impending divorce didn't excuse that. She'd be paying for the rest of her life. Unless she went to her father for help, and he knew she wasn't likely to do that. Not when she already owed him a large chunk of cash
.

  He glanced over at the shop where he'd gotten his coffee when he arrived in town and did a double-take.

  Brent was sitting in a booth, his head lowered.

  Lynch walked toward him. Let him try and make a scene. How was he going to explain all the cash he carried?

  “Hello, step-brother,” Lynch said in a hushed tone.

  Brent looked up and his eyes widened, then darted around. He was hoping for an escape. Just let him try.

  Lynch slid into the seat across from him.

  “Surprised to see me?”

  “When did you get into town?”

  “Saturday, I believe. Right after Casey called me to say you'd been kidnapped. Can you believe she was worried about your abductor killing you? She thought I could help.”

  “I don't know what you're talking about. I just got back from out of town myself.”

  “Really? Where were you?”

  He shifted in his seat. “I had to fly to St. Louis on business.”

  “Is that right? Strange, your secretary never mentioned that when I was there the other day.”

  “It was an unscheduled trip.”

  “I see. While I have you here, I wanted to ask, what's with all those insurance policies you have on your wife? It was weird since I couldn't find a single one on you.”

  “I had to cash mine in.”

  “Why is that? To pay for Janette's services or to gamble at Harrah's?”

  “Fuck you, Lynch. I don't have to explain myself to the likes of you or anyone else.”

  Lynch smiled. “How about to the police?”

  The man's face drained of color. “This is a family thing. I expect you to keep it as such.”

  Lynch burst out laughing, drawing stares from the people sitting around them. “That's funny. Especially since when I was actual family, you acted as if I was scum. Do you remember that?”

  “Look where you came from. Your father was a real winner, wasn't he, dear brother?” His words were said with such venom, it shocked Lynch.

  “I wasn't my father, and you know it. You, along with a number of prominent people in your community, made sure that neither me nor my mother felt welcome.”

  “Why should I have allowed my father to be happy when he...” Brent shook his head. “This has nothing to do with anything. Just leave me alone.”

  Lynch leaned back in the seat and studied Brent. “Do you think I could let you get away with what you did?”

  Brent shrugged. “Why not? I think you owe me.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? I don't owe you shit.” The guy had some nerve suggesting he owed him anything—especially getting away with attempted murder.

  “You fucked my wife. Do you deny that?”

  Lynch smiled. “How would you know that since you were out of town?”

  The man had clearly already forgotten the lie.

  Brent shifted.

  “So, now that we've established that you were in town, did you enjoy watching me with Casey?”

  His eyes darkened. “I don't give a shit. Casey is a bitch. She always was. I only married her for what she could bring me. Frigid whore.”

  Lynch wanted to reach across the table and wrap his hands around the man's throat but thought better of it.

  “You know she's not the sweet little thing you think she is. She's kept a secret from you for ten years.”

  The psychic's words again. What the hell were they all trying to tell him? Lynch was almost afraid to find out.

  “Look, this isn't about Casey, Brent. It's about what you did.”

  “So you don't want to know what your lover is keeping from you?”

  Lynch did, but he didn't want to give his step-brother the satisfaction of telling him. He was positive he'd enjoy it, and to hell with that.

  “Speaking of secrets, what are you hiding, Brent? Something made you the sociopath you are today. Care to share that story?”

  “No. I don't care to share anything with you. But then again, we did both fuck Casey, didn't we? Worst damned sex I ever had. She just laid there like the broken woman she was. Once I discovered Janette, well, you know those type of women will do anything for money. I no longer cared if Casey gave out or not—which she rarely ever did.”

  “Really,” Lynch said, holding on to his anger. “She seemed to enjoy our night together.”

  “Maybe, but she also knows you. How you left her and never looked back.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? She ended things with us.”

  The look Brent gave Lynch had him wondering what the hell happened all those years ago.

  “What? Casey told you I broke it off with her?” Lynch had to know the truth.

  “I assumed so.”

  Anger surged through him. Not only had she told him goodbye, she'd lied to everyone about it.

  Would he be able to face her knowing this? He just didn't know. What he did need to figure out was what to do with Brent.

  Airport security walked by, and Lynch reacted. “What are you going to do with that gun?” he said loud enough for the police to hear, then tossed his Glock in Brent's lap.

  Next thing he knew, guards swarmed them and took Brent away in handcuffs. Let him try to explain his way out of this. By the time he did, he'd have other charges brought against him for conspiracy to commit murder, not to mention fraud for stealing from his company.

  Brent would have a lot of time to think about what he'd done. Lynch, on the other hand, had his own thinking to do and no way could he do it here in New Orleans, so close to Casey.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Casey refused to sleep. She had to know Lynch was all right first. He'd been gone for hours and she was starting to wonder if something bad had happened to him.

  “You need to stop pacing. You're driving me crazy.”

  Casey stopped to look out the window. “Where is he, Zack? Shouldn't he have been back by now?”

  “That's hard to say.”

  Casey turned to Lynch's friend. “You and I both know he should have been here. You're as worried as I am, but refuse to show it.”

  “What good is that going to do? Either he shows up or he doesn't. I tried calling his cell. It went straight to voicemail.”

  “That doesn't make me feel any better. What if Brent got the jump on him, and he's lying somewhere hurt?”

  Zack laughed. “Lynch would never let that happen.”

  He was right of course, yet that still didn't make Casey feel any better. Where was Lynch?

  Zack's phone went off. He took it out of his shirt pocket and looked at the screen. “It's a text from Lynch.”

  Casey released a breath. “What does it say?”

  “Brent's been arrested. He wants me to take you to your parents, then meet him somewhere.”

  “What? Why isn't he coming back here?”

  “I don't know, Casey. Maybe you should throw a bag together, and I'll take you.”

  “I'm not going anywhere. You can tell him that for me.”

  “Don't make me say that, Casey.”

  “I'm not going anywhere. If he wants me to go to my parents then he's going to have to tell me himself. In person. I'm not going to let him walk away without a word, like he did ten years ago.”

  Zack's phone buzzed again. Casey's heart hurt. Lynch was trying to leave again without saying goodbye. The man had some nerve.

  “Well?” she asked, wanting to know who the text was from.

  “He wants me to meet him back at the cemetery.”

  Casey felt the blood drain from her face. Had Brent told him? Was that why he was going there?

  “I'm going with you. I have to explain things to Lynch.”

  “Explain what?”

  “I need to talk to him. Please take me with you, Zack.” Casey prayed he'd listen. She couldn't let Lynch make his own conclusions as to what happened. She had to finally face her demons— and Lynch.

  He looked about to refuse, but then said, “All right, but if
Lynch beats me within an inch of my life, you'll be to blame.”

  On the way to the cemetery, Casey mulled everything she planned to say over in her head. She'd kept the secret to herself for so long she wasn't sure how it'd affect her once it was said. Right after it happened, she blocked it all out. Her family had reassured her that it'd all been for the best. At the time, she couldn't see that. She still couldn't, but she'd finally managed to push it from her mind. Year after year passed, and she threw herself into her career. But her pain was always lying dormant. Now she was going to have to face it all again—with Lynch.

  Zack pulled into the parking area and killed the engine. “Maybe you should wait here until I talk to him.”

  “Okay. But I need to speak with him, Zack.”

  Zack nodded, then opened the door and got out.

  Casey watched as he disappeared through the gate and released a ragged breath. Was Lynch standing in front of the headstone? Was he angry that she didn't tell him? Would he be able to forgive her for not doing so?

  *

  Lynch stared at the name on the headstone and the date, too confused to think straight.

  He turned when he heard leaves crunching behind him.

  “Hey,” he said to Zack, then turned back to the stone.

  “So what's going on, Lynch? Why'd you come back here?”

  Lynch pointed to the granite monument.

  Zack studied it for a moment, then shrugged. “Whose baby was it?”

  “I believe it was mine.”

  His friend frowned.

  “You're right,” Casey said, drawing both men's attention to her.

  Lynch scowled at Zack. “I told you to take her to her parents.”

  “I told her that you wanted me to meet you here, and she insisted she had to talk to you. Looks like she was right. I'll go for a walk so you two can do that.”

  Zack walked away and Lynch refused to look at Casey. How could she have kept something this important from him?

  “He came too early,” she said, her voice rough with emotion. “He had tubes and wires everywhere. He just wasn't strong enough. He died when he was six days old.”

  “Why didn't you tell me we were having a child? Did you know about the pregnancy when you sent me that letter?”