by Juno Rushdan
“I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.” Riding a fresh surge of adrenaline, Jackson stepped closer. “What’s the location where the text was sent from?”
“Believe it or not, one of our remote work sites. Off I-99 across from the Duwamish Waterway.”
“What?” Jackson shook his head. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“I agree, it is strange. I cloned your phone for the FBI. They have all the metadata and can monitor any further communication in real time. Liam McDare is going to have an Agent West verify the trace.”
“If Ms. Molnar missed anything,” Madeline said, “I have every confidence that between West and McDare they’ll find it. What’s the exact address of the work site?”
Questions whirled in Jackson’s mind and there was only one way to get answers. “I’m heading over there.” He started toward the atrium. “It’s less than ten minutes away. You can follow me or ride along. But don’t think of suggesting that I stay behind. Not when the text originated from ETC property and it looks as if it might’ve been an employee who has taken Emma.” The thought of such a betrayal burned his gut. “I have to go. That’s nonnegotiable.”
Madeline hurried ahead of him, bringing him to a quick stop with a raised palm. “No one can force you to stay here, but riding with us would be faster,” she said in a firm, impassive voice that he found oddly soothing. “You’ll have to stay in the vehicle while we check the facility and question employees. That’s also nonnegotiable. Can you do that, Jackson?”
He would do whatever was necessary to get his little girl back. Emma was his true north, his whole world. Without question, he would make any sacrifice to protect her. Lay down his own life in a heartbeat. Truth be told, if it came down to it, he would take a life, too. “I can.”
Madeline led the way through the atrium toward two FBI agents who were questioning the chairman and Jackson’s assistant, Brittany, separately. A succession of pings had all three agents glancing at their phones.
Both agents broke off their interviews and approached Madeline.
“Jackson Rhodes, this is Supervisory Special Agent Miguel Peters,” Madeline said, gesturing to a man with dark hair, “and Special Agent Nick James.” She indicated the other somber-looking agent as perfunctory handshakes were exchanged. “Jackson would prefer us to dispense with the formality of titles and surnames.”
“We just got the update on the location of the trace from Liam,” Miguel said to Madeline. “I’ll stay with Dash and handle things here, finish collecting statements and reviewing the surveillance footage.” He handed her car keys.
Nick’s gaze shifted to Madeline. “I’ll go with you.”
Miguel nodded. “Take Caitlyn as well and a few of the police officers standing around.”
“Jackson is also going to come,” Madeline said. “It might be useful to have him on-site.”
Miguel glanced at Jackson and looked him over a moment, then he turned back to Madeline. “If you think it’s best for him to go along, I won’t question it.”
Jackson and Madeline made their way outside the front of the building while Nick rounded up the others. Madeline climbed in behind the wheel of one of the two black SUVs that were parked near squad cars. He slid into the front passenger seat beside her.
She cranked the engine and entered the address he rattled off into the GPS.
The second Nick and Caitlyn hopped in the back of the vehicle, Madeline peeled out of the spot.
With blue-and-red lights flashing on the dash and the sirens blaring on the police cruisers that followed them, Madeline wove through traffic at a speed that had Jackson clutching the armrest.
In this situation, there was no such thing as too fast. He was relieved Madeline acted as such.
“Why do you have a remote site?” Madeline asked.
“It’s not uncommon. We have several for different reasons. Sometimes the issue is space. Out at the Duwamish site, it’s for secrecy. Top-of-the-line security. The facility has metal detectors, and no one can even bring a cell phone inside. Everyone who works there has been through the most stringent of background checks.”
Madeline’s gaze flickered to him. “What is ETC working on?”
Years of secrecy caused Jackson to hesitate. Under normal circumstances, a civilian would have to sign a nondisclosure agreement before he answered the question. Nothing about today was normal. “Cloaking technology. The team is finishing a prototype. We’re hoping to get a government contract.”
“With DARPA?” Caitlyn asked, referring to the Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency.
“Yes. They deal with all the breakthrough technology for national security. We’re talking the potential for billions in profit.” Jackson had fought to expand the company, take ETC in a bold, innovative direction. Against all odds, he had scraped together the money to save the company from the brink of bankruptcy while funding the venture. “It’s my pet project. Sort of my...” He swallowed hard, nearly choking on the words sticking in his throat.
Caitlyn and Nick stared at Jackson in the rearview mirror.
“Your what?” Madeline asked.
“Everyone at the office jokes that it’s...my baby. My second child.” A cold finger ran across his heart.
Jackson clenched his hand and leaned back against the seat. He didn’t know exactly what it meant that the text had been traced to that specific location, but there was no doubt in his mind that it held horrible significance.
“Are visitors allowed inside the remote site?” Nick asked. “For deliveries? Repairs? Standard maintenance?”
Jackson looked back over the seat. “No, we have strict protocols in place. Only cleared personnel. Anyone who steps foot inside the facility has been thoroughly vetted.”
“We need to know all the employees who have access to the Duwamish site,” Madeline said. “See if any had a grievance or might be vulnerable to blackmail.”
“I’ll call Dash,” Caitlyn said, taking out her phone. She dialed and relayed the message, then listened. “Okay. Thanks.” She disconnected. “They verified the trace. The text did originate from that location. Dash said there was no attempt to mask the trail. Also, the surveillance footage inside ETC headquarters was on a loop. That’s why there’s no coverage of who took Emma.”
Something about this was wrong. The details didn’t add up. “The kidnapper was savvy enough to put our surveillance feed on a loop, but not cover their tracks of the text message?” Jackson asked.
No one said a word. They didn’t have to. The cagey looks from the others told Jackson all he needed to know. They were thinking the same thing.
Almost too easy. Rivka’s words came back in a rush, filling him with foreboding.
Madeline exited I-99 and took Alaskan Way to East Marginal. Once they made a right toward the work site, the gated facility was visible.
Alarm crept over him.
Employees were gathered outside the building in the parking lot. Twenty of them, which accounted for the entire team plus security, stood about a hundred feet from the building near the fence line.
“What in the hell?” Nick muttered.
Madeline and Jackson traded wary glances as she stopped at the entrance and rolled down the window.
Jackson leaned over and waved to the security guard. “What’s going on?”
“Mr. Rhodes.” The guard’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “The carbon monoxide alarms went off in the building. Everyone had to evacuate. I called the fire department and gas company. The SFD should be here any minute.”
Almost too easy. Now a carbon monoxide leak?
Jackson stiffened. “What if Emma is inside?” The stray thought struck him as irrational. The odds of his little girl being in there, without anyone noticing, were as slim as someone who worked at the site being the culprit. But the events of the day had already taught him
anything was possible.
“Is this the only way in and out?” Madeline asked Jackson.
“Yes. Single point of entry for added security.”
Her gaze swung back to the guard. “Has anyone entered or left the premises in the past hour?”
“No, ma’am,” the guard said.
The news kept Jackson from doing something rash, like leaping from the vehicle and racing inside the building against Madeline’s instructions, though it wasn’t nearly enough to bring him a shred of relief.
“The funny thing is,” the guard added, “there’s a strange smell in the building.”
“But carbon monoxide is odorless,” Madeline said.
“That’s what makes it so weird.”
“Think this is some kind of a diversion?” Nick asked. “A slew of uncleared people are about to circumvent protocol and get access in there.”
“It’s possible,” Madeline said. “We shouldn’t rule anything out.” She looked back at the guard. “Make sure no one leaves the premises unless they’ve been cleared by the FBI or the police.”
“You’ve got it.” The armed guard buzzed them in. A second later, the heavy gate rolled opened.
They drove past the gaggle of employees, closer to the one-story building, and parked. The state-of-the-art facility was small. The east side of it was comprised of a meditation room, break room with a kitchen, gym and locker room since the team spent long days hard at work. The other half of the building—which faced the Duwamish Waterway, giving the team a western view and natural light through the privacy-tinted wall of windows—was entirely for research and development.
“Sit tight and let us handle this,” Madeline said.
Jackson nodded in reluctant agreement.
The others jumped out of the vehicle and huddled up by the open trunk.
Madeline and Nick took off their jackets and strapped on bulletproof vests while she doled out orders. “Caitlyn, have the officers help you collect statements from everyone. We’ll do a sweep inside to make sure there’s no one left.”
The communications liaison and the uniformed officers headed to the cluster of ETC employees.
Nick and Madeline both drew their weapons. As they advanced toward the building, Jackson hopped out of the SUV.
Pulse hammering, he edged forward, desperate for definitive proof as to who had taken his daughter. But he stopped, fighting against the overwhelming urge. Better to leave this part to law enforcement. Though nothing, other than finding Emma unharmed, would make this better.
Tension coiled through him, what-ifs stacking up in his mind. What if whoever had sent the text was no longer here? Or what if the trace was a dead end?
Madeline and Nick were side by side, their guns raised.
Watching the Feds draw closer, Jackson scrubbed a hand over his jaw. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. He ached to do something, other than wait, but at the same time, he couldn’t shake the sense that something about this was wrong—really, really wrong.
The two agents got within ten paces of the front door. And then...
The west side of the building exploded.
Chapter Three
Madeline and Nick staggered to a halt as a blaze consumed the interior of the building’s west side. Heat surged from the broken windows, exploding the remaining panes, but her blood chilled.
If the timing had been different—two minutes, maybe less—they would’ve both been inside. She risked her life on a regular basis—that came with the territory. But this had been a close call.
Too close.
Fire licked the air through the shattered opening. Gray smoke billowed out across the water.
Madeline looked over her shoulder.
Jackson stood aghast, gaping at the building. At the ruins of his pet project. His baby.
Madeline holstered her weapon and went to him.
His eyes were glassy with horror. His skin, his coloring was too pale. The same paralyzing fear she’d seen on countless other parents rolled off him in waves.
She put a hand on his shoulder. “The fire department will be here shortly. They’ll search the building and confirm if it was empty.”
For a long moment, she wondered if he’d heard her. Even Nick gave her a concerned glance that had her regretting the fact that she’d allowed Jackson to come along.
“Thank you,” Jackson said in a low voice, still staring at the fire.
She let out a small breath of relief that he’d spoken. “For what?”
Finally, his gaze met hers. “Not asking me if I’m all right.”
It was obvious he wasn’t. In a few short hours, everything that mattered most to him had been taken away. This man was suffering from a pain beyond what the physical could inflict and it was etched all over his face.
“You said that you don’t have any enemies, but...” Madeline took a second, needing to find the right words. “This was well-timed. Meticulously executed. I need you to think hard about who might want to target you in this way.”
He stepped back, shrugging off her hand. “If I knew something that could be useful, anything that might help me get my daughter back, don’t you think I’d tell you in a heartbeat? I have no idea who did this.” He threw a hand up at the building. “No idea why.”
The kidnapper hadn’t asked for ransom money. Only his resignation. Which meant that Jackson did know who was responsible. He just couldn’t see it yet.
“What about Andrew Phillips?” Nick asked. “Your assistant told me that in the event you step down, he’d be the one to fill in for you. Or how about Charles Albrecht, the CEO of AlbrechTech? I overheard the chairman mention that you two have a combative rivalry.”
“That’s true. There’s been infighting between me and Andrew since day one. And as for Chuck, combative is putting it mildly.” Jackson’s cheeks turned a mottled shade of red. “But to think that either of them would go to such lengths...” He glanced at the fiery ruins of his project. “It’s unimaginable.”
Nick rocked back on his heels and peered up at the sky. “Well, what do we have here?”
Madeline followed the direction he pointed in, spotting the whirring device at once. A small quadcopter drone fitted with a camera hovered above the parking lot.
How long had it been there?
She couldn’t hear the rotor blades due to the roar of the fire, but if the drone had been overhead when they stepped out of the vehicle, she would’ve noticed the noise.
“We’re being watched.” Nick hiked his chin up.
“By the person who kidnapped Emma?” Jackson asked.
“Safe assumption,” Madeline said. Her gut told her any other explanation would be too much of a coincidence, and she didn’t believe in those.
“Why use a drone?” Jackson asked. “Did the sick bastard want to watch the explosion?” He glared up at the quadcopter, fists at his sides. “I’ll give you whatever you want! Just release my little girl! Please. Let Emma go.”
“They’re usually only equipped with video, no audio,” Nick said.
Dropping his head, Jackson slapped the hood of the SUV and muttered a curse.
Madeline got the sense he was a man used to being in total and complete control, of himself, of everything in his orbit. Even now, looking on the verge of falling apart, he was working hard to hold it together.
She turned to Nick. “See if you can shoot the drone down.” It was within range and Nick was a good shot. “We might get lucky. Pull a set of prints.” Everyone made mistakes sooner or later. Maybe the kidnapper got sloppy, hadn’t considered this possibility. If so, they could use it to their advantage.
“Sure.”
While Nick quickly took aim, Madeline opened the front passenger door and ushered Jackson inside the vehicle. Fortunately, he sat without a fight. Giving whoever was watching the video mo
re footage of Jackson unraveling wouldn’t help the situation. If anything, it’d only feed the perpetrator’s ego.
Madeline stayed between the door and the frame.
A pair of gunshots rang out, making Jackson flinch. She was used to the sharp sound, but the loud report always came as a surprise to most civilians.
Nick had managed to drop the quadcopter to the ground on the second shot. He grabbed an evidence bag from the trunk and tugged on gloves before retrieving it.
“I know commercial drones aren’t equipped with audio.” Jackson loosened his tie and pulled it off over his head. His tailored suit did nothing to hide the bulk of his muscles or the unbearable weight he was carrying. “If it were, at two hundred feet high, it’d capture very little audio from the ground. Factor in prop noise and it’d be useless.” His shoulders slumped forward, his brow creasing as a hand jerked the top button on his collar open. “No point in screaming at it the way I did. Like an idiot. I think I’m in shock from it all.”
There was something in his voice, a deep, dark underlying sadness that caught her breath. That made her soften in a way she hadn’t for a long time.
The desire to comfort him was startling in its intensity. She clenched her hand to keep from touching him. The rest of the BAU team thought the impact on the parents was never her concern, but they couldn’t have been more wrong. The reason she kept her distance from the victims’ loved ones, normally letting Caitlyn handle the support role instead, was that she understood their suffering all too well. The closer she got to the family, the easier it was to get caught in the emotional undertow. Then how would she be able to save the victim?
She swallowed to clear her throat. “What you’re feeling is only natural. To be expected.”
Sirens wailed in the distance. It was convenient the fire department had already been called and was on the way. They might be able to get the blaze under control quickly.
“Did he hit the drone?” Jackson asked.
