Taken! - Bedeviled (A Taken! Novel Book 17)

by Remington Kane

  “Lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now call the cops and we’ll straighten this out.”

  Jessica watched as Elena reached into her bag and removed a bolt cutter and some sort of round pressure bandage. Before she realized what Elena was doing, Anthony Dalen had lost half his right pinky. Violet pushed his head down into a pillow to muffle his screams, as Elena secured the bandage to lessen the blood flow.

  “You will answer all our questions or you will suffer as those young girls in your freezer suffered. Do you understand me?” Elena said.

  Anthony’s breathing had become rapid, but he calmed himself and offered up a string of curses. Violet pressed his face into the pillow again as Elena placed the edges of the bolt cutter around his thumb.

  Jessica reached out and placed a hand atop Elena’s. Seeing this, Violet frowned and spoke to Jessica.

  “This has to be done. Otherwise, we’ll never learn anything.”

  Jessica looked at Violet.

  “You misunderstood my intention, dear. It’s just that it’s my turn.”

  Elena and Violet laughed, seconds later, Anthony screamed.

  ***

  They left the home an hour later.

  Anthony was dead, and missing parts of many fingers. He knew of a dark-haired girl that fit Viola’s description. She was Prophet’s recruiter. Apparently, Viola was using her gift of spotting serial killers to help Prophet.

  Prophet’s goal was to build an army of killers, and what better killers were there than those men who were compelled to kill and torture. What he planned to do with those killers was still unknown, but it couldn’t be anything good.

  Violet made an anonymous call to the police as Jessica drove them all back to the PREY house. The cops would find the body of Anthony Dalen, along with his victims.

  Violet fell asleep while stretched out atop the back seat and Elena and Jessica spoke quietly, so they didn’t wake her.

  “What do you think Prophet is planning, Elena?” Jessica asked.

  “He’s doing what my son is doing; he’s building a team.”

  “Your son?”

  “Thomas, dear, Thomas Lawson is my son. It’s time you knew.”

  “Lawson is your son?”

  “Yes, he took the name of Lawson to maintain anonymity, but he’s my son and I love him.”

  “I had no idea.”

  “He would have told you and your husband soon, and I have his permission to reveal the truth.”

  “All right, but what do you mean that he’s building a team? Are you talking about what my husband is doing in Africa?”

  “That’s part of it, and he views your husband as the linchpin of the team.”

  “What sort of team?”

  “A strike force of sorts, working domestically with government support but without government restrictions.”

  “That’s pretty much what we already do, but who else would be on this team?”

  “Yourself, your husband, Jace, and Blue Steele. There’s another woman who I don’t know, and an assassin named Tanner.”

  “Tanner? I know Tanner. He didn’t strike me as the team type.”

  “Team is a loose word. Take Blue Steele for example, most of her work will occur first. One has to locate a target before the target can be eliminated, and Blue Steele is the best bounty hunter in the world.”

  “And Tanner?”

  “He would be used as what he is, an assassin. Thomas has already met the man, but has yet to approach him concerning this team concept.”

  “Would this team have a name?”

  “Yes, PREDATOR, and their prey would be anyone who crosses the line, such as Prophet.”

  “My husband might go for it, and Jace would, but I’m not sure about Tanner.”

  “By the way, I’m told that Tanner bears a strong resemblance to your husband.”

  “Yes, it seems they may be cousins.”

  “From the Gant side of your husband’s family I take it?”

  “Yes, Tanner’s mother was a Gant.”

  Elena laughed.

  “What?” Jessica said.

  “The Gant genes, they seem to make the males quite deadly.”

  “Maybe, but my son shares those genes as well, and I’ve seen no signs of unusual aggression in him. Then again, I’m still on the fence when it comes to a discussion of nature or nurture.”

  “Perhaps it’s a bit of both,” Elena said. “If so, your son will grow up to be a good man, despite his genes.”

  “I pray so, Elena, I pray so.”

  CHAPTER 3

  Pretoria, South Africa

  Mr. White stood outside an intensive care unit and looked in at the bed containing Brendan Ryan. Ryan’s condition was serious, as his heart suffered damage during his forced march, as well as from the lack of food and water he endured.

  Thad Howard was also in a hospital room, but he was being treated for a simple case of dehydration and exhaustion. One night in the hospital would see him nearly back to normal.

  As Carter said, Howard was in trouble, but his lawyers were in negotiation with British officials. Apparently, Howard had friends in the British Parliament. His connections were enough to keep him free for the time being, but he would still face a trial upon his return to England. His continued freedom was doubtful once the trial was over, as there was so much evidence against him.

  Mr. White went down to the hospital’s cafeteria where the rest of his group was having breakfast. He joined them at the table with his own meal, but saw that everyone but Jace had already finished.

  “Are you a slow eater, or did you go back for seconds?” White asked Jace.

  “That’s his third plate of eggs,” Beck said. “The kid eats like he’s pregnant.”

  Carter laughed, as he ran a hand through his blond hair.

  “Let him have what he wants; he’s earned it.”

  “You all have,” White said. “And thanks for your help, although it looks like Mr. Ryan won’t make it.”

  “Too bad, but this whole scheme to get back his diamond mines was daft,” Carter said.

  White checked his watch.

  “Our flight leaves in an hour, Carter. When will you be leaving?”

  “I’m not. I’ve friends here I haven’t seen in a while. I’m going to spend a few days with them.”

  “I’m not going straight home either,” Beck said. “I’m going down to Florida to see Keri.”

  Jace laughed.

  “Hey Carter, the Colonel here still has it. His girlfriend is about your age.”

  “Yeah,” Beck said. “But I take it easy so I don’t tire her out.”

  White smiled.

  “Tell Keri we’ll be coming down soon for a quick vacation, likely in a week or two. I want Michael to see the house.”

  “Who’s Michael?” Carter said.

  “White’s long lost brother,” Jace said. “This one is cool, not a nut job like Jeffrey Mitchell.”

  “You’ve got interesting kinfolk, mate,” Carter told White.

  White thought about his distant relation to the Caliber and Steele families, as well as the fact that the hit man named Tanner might be his cousin.

  “Carter, you don’t know the half of it.”

  ***

  Nearly a day later, Jessica greeted her husband with a hug and a kiss as she met him at the airport. Cassandra was there as well, and Jace picked her up and swung her around before kissing her.

  Cassandra was another of Elena’s girls, but didn’t share Elena’s gift. She had once worked as bait for child molesters, but the years had matured her, and she now looked like the twenty-something woman she was.

  The young couple said goodbye and headed off to be alone. As Jack Beck said he would, he had taken a different flight from Paris, after stopping there for a short layover, as he was going to Florida to visit Keri Taylor.

  Mr. White smiled at Jessica after they kissed once more.

  “How are the kids?”

  “T
hey miss you, as does your brother. I swear, Michael nagged me more than the kids about when you were coming home. He’s at the house with Summer, but how is Mr. Ryan? Has his condition improved?”

  Mr. White’s face turned grim.

  “He’s expected to die. It’s his heart; the ordeal was too much for him. He’s still in a South African hospital and was too weak to travel.”

  “Oh no, poor Samantha. She’s not the most demonstrative of children, but I know she’s come to care for her grandfather.”

  “Yes, and I need to talk to her.”

  “Tonight?”

  “Yes, unless we need to get home right away?”

  “No, tonight will be fine, but aren’t you tired?”

  “I slept on the plane; it was a long flight.”

  Jessica smiled.

  “In that case, you drive.”

  ***

  At the Ryan Estate, the chauffeur, Billy Ortiz, was standing wide-eyed with shock as he saw Samantha leave her grandmother’s bedroom. The nine-year-old child’s dress was marred by a bloodstain.

  “Samantha, what happened? Honey, are you hurt?”

  “It’s Grandmother, Billy... someone killed her.”

  Billy stood frozen in place for a moment, but then he rushed past Samantha. Martha Ryan laid sprawled atop her bed with a letter opener jammed into her chest. A woman known for suffering from an undisclosed chronic illness, Martha Ryan was wearing what she often wore, a plain cotton nightgown. The letter opener had an ivory handle that was streaked with blood.

  The white-haired matronly wife of Brendan Ryan looked as if she were in a state of shock, as her mouth hung open and her dead eyes were wide with disbelief. Billy felt dizzy for a moment and put a hand out to steady himself. The hand landed against an open drawer that slid closed and pinched his finger.

  The slight pain cleared Billy’s head. He crossed himself and took out his phone. After dialing 9-1-1, he returned to the hallway, took Samantha by the hand, and led her down the staircase.

  Samantha asked where they were going, but Billy was already reporting the murder to the 9-1-1 operator. The woman who’d answered asked Billy to stay on the line and told him that help was on the way.

  Billy placed the phone under his chin and spoke to the operator, as he undid the locks on the front door.

  “There’s a child with me, ma’am. I’m taking her out to the limo. I can’t be sure if the murderer is still in the house or has left.”

  “All right, and if there’s trouble, drive away.”

  “Billy, I have to wash my hands; they’re bloody,” Samantha said.

  “There are wipes in the car, honey, but I have to get you somewhere safe.”

  “It’s all right, Billy; Grandmother has been dead for a while. She felt cold when I touched her.”

  “Is that the child, sir?” the operator asked.

  “Yes,” Billy said. “She’s in shock.”

  “Oh... I see, but get to the limo and stay there, help is on the way.”

  ***

  Uniformed police arrived quickly and were joined by a pair of homicide detectives. Within the hour, the DA showed up and asked about the scene.

  There was no sign of an intruder and everything was locked but the front door. Billy had failed to relock it as he left the house. The home also had a security system, and the cameras showed no intruders about the property.

  By the time Jessica and her husband arrived, the detectives in charge of the scene were eyeing Billy as a suspect. When told that Dr. Jessica White was outside the home, the DA gave permission for her and her husband to enter.

  The DA was an ambitious woman named Rebecca Hall. Hall was in her thirties, had short brown hair and piercing ice-blue eyes. A shapely woman, Hall nevertheless toned down her good looks while working, and usually wore a doubtful expression. It was as if she knew the world was lying to her and just needed time to prove it.

  Hall welcomed the Whites in the large entryway and asked them why they were at the Ryan estate. When they informed Hall that they were friends of the family, Hall escorted them deeper inside the home.

  “What’s going on here?” Jessica asked. “Is Samantha Ryan all right?”

  “The child is fine. We’re here because someone murdered her grandmother.”

  “Oh no,” Jessica said.

  The three of them entered the living room where they found Samantha sitting with a policewoman and the Ryan’s family lawyer, Lionel Wentworth. When Samantha spotted Mr. White, she ran to him and took his hand.

  “Mr. White, someone killed my grandmother.”

  “I heard, but how are you? There’s blood on your dress.”

  “I climbed on the bed to wake Grandmother and found her dead.”

  Jessica took Samantha’s other hand.

  “Who else was here, honey?” she asked.

  “Just me and Billy. The cook had left, but Billy stays here late when Grandfather is away, but Grandfather is back now, right?”

  “I have to talk to you about that,” Mr. White said.

  “You can talk to me about it as well,” said the DA. “We’ve been trying to get in touch with him. I’ve been told by Mr. Wentworth that Mr. Ryan is out of the country.”

  Wentworth stood. He was a distinguished looking man in his sixties who ran a law firm with offices in several major US cities. He had been Brendan Ryan’s lawyer since Ryan started his first company over thirty years earlier.

  “Mr. Ryan is ill and cannot speak with you at this time, Miss Hall; I already explained that.”

  “Grandfather is ill?” Samantha said.

  “Yes,” Mr. White said. “And you’ll be coming home with us.”

  “That child is going nowhere until I have a homicide detective interview her at the station.”

  Jessica stepped before Hall.

  “Samantha is coming with us. But if she’s to be interviewed tonight, it will take place here in her home.”

  “Excuse me, Dr. White, but you have no say here,” Hall said.

  Wentworth spoke up.

  “I do have a say. You will not question my client until she’s had time to compose herself.”

  “Who’s your client, the child? If so, she doesn’t appear to need any composing, in fact, little girl, why aren’t you more upset?” Hall said, as she eyed Samantha strangely.

  “Samantha Ryan will have the benefit of my legal expertise, yes,” Wentworth said. “And I agree with Dr. White; she and her husband can take Samantha home with them tonight. She can’t stay here at the estate anyway, since it’s now a crime scene.”

  Hall smirked as she looked at Jessica.

  “I know about you, Dr. White. You’re known for catching killers, but you can relax. This case looks open and shut.”

  “How so?”

  “There’s already a suspect, the chauffeur, William Ortiz. He was the only one in the home who could have killed her.”

  “Billy wouldn’t kill Grandmother,” Samantha said.

  “I’m sorry little girl, but the evidence points to him.”

  Samantha glared up at Hall.

  “My name isn’t ‘little girl.’ My name is Samantha Ryan and Billy is innocent.”

  Hall sighed and spoke to Jessica.

  “Take the brat, but bring her to my office at one tomorrow.”

  “Who are you calling a brat?” Jessica said, and there was anger in her tone.

  Hall smiled sweetly.

  “I call them as I see them. Goodnight, Doctor.”

  Hall walked deeper into the massive home and Wentworth spoke to the Whites.

  “I will meet with all of you tomorrow in my office at noon. We need to talk before we sit down with Hall and the detectives.”

  “Mr. Wentworth, protect Billy,” Samantha said.

  “Yes, dear; I will help Mr. Ortiz; you have my word,” Wentworth said.

  Wentworth walked the Whites and Samantha out to the car and then pulled Mr. White aside.

  “This... this is a terrible
day. Not only has Martha died, but I received news just moments ago that Brendan passed away in Africa.”

  White let out a sigh.

  “I’ll break the news to Samantha, and Mr. Wentworth, tell me, who are Samantha’s closest relatives now?”

  “The child has none to speak of, Mr. White; she’s now orphaned.” Wentworth waved a hand at the Ryan mansion. “All this is an illusion. When his debts are settled, Brendan Ryan will have died destitute. The man made incredibly bad decisions over the last year, and all of them against my advice.”

  “I see,” White said, as he remembered the words Brendan Ryan had spoken to him on the helicopter.

  I risked everything, and lost everything.

  Mr. White looked into the car at Samantha and wondered what the future held for her.

  CHAPTER 4

  Inside the Ryan home, DA Rebecca Hall was being walked through the scene by the homicide detectives, Tucci and Carlyle.

  The two cops resembled each other and were both White middle-age smokers who were divorced. They also both had two children each by their ex-wives, and had gone through the police academy together. If they were any more alike, they’d be twins.

  Tucci had a thing for Rebecca Hall, and so he conducted the tour.

  “The little girl’s bloody prints are all over the bed and also along the staircase and in the limo. The chauffeur’s prints are being checked, but he says that he didn’t touch the body. I don’t blame him for not attempting to help her; the old lady was obviously dead.”

  The trio entered Brendan Ryan’s office, where a wall safe sat open. There was a large picture window behind the wooden desk, and flashing police lights lit the night outside. Inside the home, forensic teams were still busy, while cops stood around in small groups waiting to see if they would be needed.

  “As you can see, Miss Hall, whoever killed Mrs. Ryan helped themselves to the contents of the safe. Carlyle and I worked robbery before being assigned to homicide, and I can tell you, that’s a good safe. I think whoever opened it knew the combination.”

  “A chauffeur would have access to that sort of info,” Hall said.

  “Yeah, maybe, but take a look at this.”

  Tucci walked over to the wall safe and pointed at the handle that opened it, once the proper combination had been input. There was fingerprint powder on the handgrip, and it showed an almost perfect thumbprint near the top of the handle.