Matt looked the opposite of a Texas cowboy. His closet was full of dark suits, white shirts, and a myriad of silk ties. His brothers swore he didn’t have any footgear except his shiny, black, I’m FBI, shoes. Taking a deep breath, Matt vowed to prove them wrong. He could and would do anything to get Carrie back. Even change his identity, the same as Carrie did on a regular basis.
His cell phone rang. Sam. “What do you have?”
“Auction. Tomorrow night at eleven o’clock. Bidders have the choice of online bidding, or up close and personal. Their promo promises three of the most beautiful women in the world. I have descriptions. One has red hair and green eyes. Bidding starts at half a mil.”
“Do you have an address?”
“No, I have to submit a photo, a name, and a cell phone number to get through the door. They take it from there.”
“Bastards. Keep the lines open. I want to know their every movement. And I’ll have whatever they want to you soon.”
“That was fast. I didn’t expect an auction this soon.” Sweeney scratched his head.
Matt turned to his partner. “I did. Their property is valuable. They want the money and they don’t want to risk the women getting sick or risk us finding them.” The thought that Carrie was in the hands of such men sent fear filtering through his insides and settling in his gut. “My hope is she doesn’t try to pull an escape.” Would they risk losing hundreds of thousands, if not millions of dollars by injuring or killing one of their women?
Not unless it was a last resort.
Matt prayed Carrie kept her cool.
“Once you know where you’re going, we’ll have a team at the ready,” the SAC promised. “Since the auction is for eleven, meet here early tomorrow afternoon, no later than four, and we’ll go over the plan.”
“We’ll be here. Now, let’s get out of here, I have a lot to do.”
The SAC gave them his evil eye. “Sweeney, you’re in charge of the backup team. Pick out your men and give them a heads-up.”
“I’m on it.” Sweeney slapped Matt on the shoulder. “I can tell this woman means a lot to you. We’ll get her back.”
“I’ll have a plane at Hobby with a West Texas manifest and a car here by tomorrow afternoon with rental plates. We can monitor everything said inside the car. Now get out of here and get your disguise together. And get a few hours of shuteye.”
Matt nodded, as he and his brothers left the room. He was too numb to do otherwise.
Coop got behind the wheel of Matt’s SUV. “We’ll swing by Carrie’s apartment and pick up my truck.”
Matt took out his cell phone, looked up a number, and dialed. “This is Matthew Montgomery. I need a favor.”
They met the disheveled manager of one of the finest Western Wear stores in the Galleria area in Houston at one a.m. “Sorry about this, John, but it’s an emergency.”
“I’m here to help, Matt. What can I do for you?”
Less than an hour later, Matt walked out with a pair of high-end black jeans, a striking blue braided shirt, a four-strand black belt, black lambskin vest, a pair of very expensive boots, and a black buckskin Western hat.
“I don’t want to know what that cost you,” Coop muttered as they piled packages in the backseat.
“I have to look the part. Let’s get back to Carrie’s. There has to be a way to make these duds not quite so new looking.”
“I have a better idea. Doc’s house is closer. She knows more about this stuff than we do,” Coop suggested.
A phone call woke her up. “Put on a pot of coffee, Doc. We have an emergency.”
She hung up. If he knew Doc, she was already alert and waiting.
“Since you won’t have a weapon and no one will be able to come into the auction with you, I think you should take Thor.”
“Funny, Coop. They’ll never let a dog inside.”
“They would if you had seizures. Seizure Response dogs are trained to warn when one is coming on. The same with diabetes.”
“Why would they believe me?”
“Because you’ll be wearing a medical bracelet. In your pocket will be the correct prescription for your disease.”
“What if they make me take some of those pills?”
Coop chuckled. “They’ll be sugar pills. They won’t know the difference.”
“It’s something to think about, but I don’t want to worry the women at home.”
“If we keep this quiet, they’ll never forgive us. Besides, they’re worried already.”
“Okay. Get Thor here. I’ll think about it.”
Coop made the call on his cell phone while Dirk called Sky to let her know what was going down. “Sky said she would drive in with Lanie and Thor.”
Matt nodded. “Good idea, but I can handle this without Thor.”
“Maybe. But won’t you feel better, knowing you have a highly trained military dog at your beck and call?”
Matt gave a tired chuckle. “I guess you’re right, Coop.”
On the way to Doc’s, they discussed what else Matt would need to disguise his looks.
“You need longer hair.”
“A little late for that.”
Coop reached over and rubbed a hand over Matt’s whiskered face. “That will help. Don’t shave.”
“There are things you can put in your mouth to change the shape.”
“Good idea, Dirk. But nothing will be open on a Sunday,” Coop reminded him and turned to Matt. “How did you get the manager of Pinto Ranch to open up in the middle of the night?”
“My dad and John’s went to school together. We met as kids.”
Dirk stifled a yawn. “It helps to know the right people.”
When they walked into Doc’s, laden down with packages, she was dressed in an old pair of jeans and a T-shirt. “If someone isn’t bleeding to death, this had better be good.”
“Is Carrie’s bike here?”
“I haven’t looked. Why?”
Matt made a beeline to the door to the garage. Carrie’s space sat empty.
Though it was nothing less than what he expected, this made it real. Fear wedged in his gut. He motioned Coop to tell Doc what was going on.
“You think Carrie is in the hands of a serial killer?” Doc looked as if she might pass out. Since Doc was one of the coolest women he knew, Matt realized just how much Carrie meant to her.
“Right now, we think she’s in the hands of a slaver who is going to put her up for auction tonight. Matt just spent a mint to dress like a wealthy cowboy from West Texas so he can bid on her.” Coop shook his head. “I don’t know how he’s going to pull this off.”
Matt cleared his throat. “I can handle it.” He turned to Doc. “Nothing will give me away faster than going in there dressed in just-off-the-rack clothes. What can we do to scuff them up a bit?”
Tears welled in Doc’s green eyes. “Dump the lot. Let’s see what you’ve got. You have to get Carrie back, Matt. We can’t lose that girl.”
“I don’t intend to.”
In minutes Doc’s couch was covered with top-of-the-line Western wear. “You bought the best, Matt. Now let’s see what we can do with them. Coop, take the boots, and scuff them up enough to look worn. Use whatever you can find in the kitchen drawers. Don’t tear the leather; a wealthy cowboy wouldn’t wear boots with holes in them. Be gentle, but firm. Dirk, take the hat and bend it over and over until it looks as if it’s been on and off the head a hundred times.”
She grabbed the jeans and shirt, checked the labels. “I’m going to wash the jeans in hot water to get the stiffness out. Then I’ll iron them so they have a crease. I’ll rinse the shirt, dry it and press it. At least it will lose that new smell.”
“His hair should be longer. Can you think of anything other than a wig, which we don’t have?”
Doc stopped in mid-stride. “I don’t have a wig, Coop, but I know someone who does.”
They looked at her. “Carrie.” She turned to Dirk. “In her closet are a half-doze
n wigs. Bring me all the dark browns and blacks.” She paused. “She also has a variety of colored contacts. See if she has either green or gray. Probably doesn’t have green, bring everything she has.”
“I can’t go in there looking like a female.”
Doc’s mouth set in a firm line. “Trust me, you won’t.”
Lanie and Carrie arrived with Thor in time to see Matt dressed in his cowboy duds. Thanks to Doc, who had taken a pair of scissors to a long black wig, his hair almost touched his collar. His hat sat on his head as if it belonged there, and his boots looked as if they were a year old. Gray eyes looked at the group who were giving him a once-over.
“Ohmygosh,” Sky exclaimed. “I would never recognize you. And by the way, you make a stunning cowboy.”
“Thanks, Sky. I think.”
Lanie came over and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re being very brave, Matt. Please find Carrie and bring both of you home safely.”
“I will,” he promised.
“We’re going to leave now. You have serious business to tend to. Please stay safe. All of you.”
Coop walked Lanie to the car. Dirk walked Sky. Thor was told to sit.
“They’ll spend five minutes kissing,” Matt groused.
Doc crossed her arms over her chest. “What do you think you’ll do when you see Carrie?”
“I don’t know what you mean?”
“You know exactly what I mean, Matthew Montgomery.”
Coop and Dirk walked back inside. “Not a bad look, but he still looks like a cop.”
Matt turned to Doc. “What do you think? Do I pass the test?”
“We need to change your facial features a bit.”
She went to the kitchen and was back in seconds. “I don’t have putty, so we’ll try plain old chewing gum.” She took a piece, rolled it up, and handed it to him. “Put this between your cheek and upper back teeth.”
Matt didn’t think anyone would recognize him as he was, but he stuck the rolled up gum in each cheek.
“Talk to me,” Doc demanded.
“What do you want me to say?”
“That’s it. His voice is slightly different and his cheekbones look wider. You’re good to go.”
Matt went to the mirror. “I don’t recognize myself.”
“That’s the idea.” Doc looked at her watch. “It’s seven a.m. You need to get some sleep. You can’t pull this off if you’re groggy and can’t think straight. I have three bedrooms. I’ll fix breakfast, then take your pick.”
“Take a photo with my phone, Coop, and I’ll send it to Sam. He needs it to get me into the auction.”
“He’ll need your phony ID as well, and you haven’t heard from your boss.”
“I’ll check.” Seconds later, Matt was talking to his boss. “My disguise is ready, and I sent a photo to Sam, when will you have my new ID?”
“It won’t take long. When it’s ready, Sam will send it to the slavers. He’ll need a cell phone number.”
“I need another phone,” Matt looked at his brothers and the friend who had saved their lives in Afghanistan.
“I’ll pick one up after we eat,” Doc volunteered. “You guys need to get some sleep.”
“Get a good one.” Matt handed her his credit card. “This cowboy wouldn’t be caught dead with a throwaway.”
“Gotcha. Anything else you can think of?” She moved to the kitchen, dragged out a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread.
Matt laid his billfold on the table. “When you get back, strip my billfold. Put whatever a West Texas cowboy would have in it. I’m sure everything on me will be scrutinized.”
“I don’t know what that will be, but maybe I can pick something up while I’m out.”
She scrambled a dozen eggs, toasted almost as many slices of bread, and set it all on the table. “Eat. You can’t run day and night without fuel.”
“You’re the best, Doc.”
“Just bring our Carrie home, Matt. That’s all I ask.”
With tears in her eyes, Doc went to the stove and ladled out breakfast food before leaving on her errands.
Matt and his brothers ate what they could and dumped the rest in the disposal. Matt signaled for Thor to follow him as he went into the bedroom.
He didn’t know how he could even shut his eyes, much less sleep. Carrie in the hands of a slaver and a possible serial killer weighed on him.
He would free her. Then they would have a little talk.
Carrie was hiding behind the history of her past instead of accepting the wonderful woman she was now.
Matt intended to rectify that mode of thinking the first chance he had.
Chapter Nineteen
Carrie awoke gasping for air. For a few moments, she fought the hysteria swallowing her. Panic crept up her throat to stifle her thinking. She was eight again. Locked in a dark closet again.
Reality came to her in a blinding flash of light when the door opened and three masked men walked in.
Blinking at the sudden light, she realized with a sinking heart the predicament she was in, and thoughts of kicking ass and getting out of there on her own flew out the open door. Her gaze swept the room. Not a closet, but a small bedroom. Single bed. No chairs. Windows boarded on the inside. No lamps or tables. Nothing to use as a weapon. Another quick glance and she realized that, except for a door in the middle of the back wall, the room was completely soundproofed.
Maybe the previous owner had soundproofed it for a music room. Get real, Carrie. Who are you kidding?
As her mind cleared of whatever drug they had given her, she became even more frightened. She did her best to stay calm, but couldn’t stop her erratic heartbeat. Nor could she stop the acidic bile that rose in her throat.
She swallowed it down, as one of the men walked over to the bed. Two of them were average in size, and if she hadn’t been tied up, she could have taken them with no problem. The third was another story. Big, beefy, all muscle. Each carried a gun in a holster on their hip. “Are you comfortable, Sandy?”
Sandy? Of course! She had to think and not screw up. The only ID she had on her was for her fake persona, Sandy Mercer. “Not really. Would you mind telling me where I am, and why I’m here? And while you’re at it, I could use a glass of water and a bathroom.”
“You’re a feisty one.” There was a chuckle in the guy’s voice she didn’t want to reflect upon. He rang a million bells, but she couldn’t place where or who. “Why the guns, Sandy?” He came toward the bed while the other two stood at the door.
“Protection from men like you.”
He laughed. “Two guns didn’t help, Sandy. Why is that?”
She didn’t have to force herself to look frightened. “Three guys against one trussed-up female, doesn’t sound exactly fair, does it?”
“A gal on a Harley was a challenge. And we didn’t want to lose you.”
“Coward. Could you get me to the bathroom before I pee on myself?”
“We’re here to serve.” He turned to the two standing at attention. “Pick her up and take her to the toilet. No bruising.”
“Sure thing, boss.” The big guy moved to do as he was told.
“I can walk.”
“Not tied up, you can’t.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Please. Take the handcuffs off and untie my feet.” At least then she would have a fighting chance. As it was, she had none.
“I’m going to get top dollar for you, baby.” And he stroked her cheek.
Reflex won out over common sense.
She threw her head forward and hit his forehead with hers. Not as hard as she would like, but it was something, then she went for his throat.
The look in his eyes told her immediately she had made a mistake.
“Stupid bitch!” The guy jumped up from the bed to rub his head and neck. “Did the bitch draw blood? If she did, I swear to God I’m going to slap her unconscious.”
“Take it easy, boss. She barely grazed your neck with her nails.”
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“Put the cuffs on behind her back. That’ll teach her.” And he stalked from the room.
“Shouldn’t have done that,” the smaller guy said as he switched the cuffs. “Boss has a temper.”
“Don’t. Please. I’ll be good.” They paid no attention. Picking her up, the big guy carried her to the door that opened to a small bathroom, and deposited her next to a toilet that had no lid on the tank, no seat. Nothing was in the room but a shower, sink, and toilet. No weapon.
It wasn’t easy getting her jeans down, but she finally made it. When she finished, she knew there would be no way to get them back up and into place.
“Are you through in there?”
“No.”
After five minutes of her struggling, the smaller guy stuck his head in the door and laughed. “Need any help?”
With no mirror she couldn’t see herself, but knew her face was red and sweaty from her struggles. The guy didn’t wait for an answer, but walked in and pulled her pants up the rest of the way, snapping them in front before picking her up and taking her back to the bedroom. Even though he wasn’t as large as his partner, the guy was all muscle.
It wasn’t going to be easy getting out of here alive.
At least he didn’t try to cop a feel. Or worse.
He left her sitting on the side of the bed.
“How about some water?”
Opening the cap on the bottle, he brought it to her lips. “If you hadn’t made the boss so angry, you could do this yourself.”
“We live and learn.” She took another sip.
He turned to leave. “Does it have to be dark in here? I’m going to be screaming in five minutes without lights.” She didn’t know how she could sit or lay here for hours on end in the dark and not go crazy. “Please,” she begged in her softest, whiniest voice.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Making a judgment call, she figured this guy was no killer. She didn’t know about the other two.
When the door opened again a few minutes later, she heard a woman scream for help. The sound chilled Carrie to the bone. Whoever it was, sounded like a wounded animal. Was she hurt, or panicked?
She came to her feet. Staggered. “What the…? Who was that? What’s happening?”
Wounded at Work Page 15
