by CJ Snyder
Secure the area.
Still denying the need, he turned in a slow circle, eyes searching for every possible hiding place. Anywhere she might even now be watching him get angry, laughing at him. . ..
The busgirl timidly touched his arm, then nodded at a Hispanic janitor who stood beside her. “You look for girl? This tall?” The man gestured a height close to Lizzie’s.
“Yes.” The growl was all he could get out of his throat.
“She went out.”
“Out where?” His hands twisted to claws at his side.
“Outside. After you. With,” the janitor held up two fingers. “With two mans.”
Max closed his eyes when a sucker punch of helpless defeat leveled him nearly to his knees. As it was, he had to shuffle back a step until his legs were stiff enough to hold him again. He bit back the roar of denial building in his chest and opened his eyes.
“Nobody leaves this room,” he said, and shoved open the door to a dark corner of his soul. The motion allowed orders, actions and responses to flow automatically from that place inside he’d sworn never to visit again.
Voice calm, he turned to the busgirl. “Get your boss. Here. Now.”
His gaze pierced the janitor as his fingers curled around his cell. “Guard that door. Nobody out. Nobody in.” He stabbed 9-1-1 into the phone and faced the only other exit to the room, backing away from his lunch table as he did. It was now a crime scene.
Chapter Four
Kat pasted a smile on her face and sat down in front of her mother. She didn’t get a chance to deliver her rehearsed greeting.
“What the hell happened to you? You look like death. It’s that shark, isn’t it? I told you he was a no-good attorney and now look at you! We should have stuck with Jonesy. I liked Jonesy.”
Her mother had hated Stephen Jones as much as she currently professed to hate Lincoln Goldberg. Kat gave her head a shake, waiting for her mother to take a breath. “It’s not Mr. Goldberg, Mom. Just a bad week. You’re looking well.”
“Don’t know how I could. What’s new? Did that shark make good on his promises? Do you have a new trial scheduled?”
“Mr. Goldberg didn’t promise a new trial, Mom.” There was absolutely no reason for a new trial. Kat revisited the original trial every time her mother got fed up with her attorney and hired a new one. “I haven’t heard anything from him lately, as a matter of fact.”
“Then what are you doing here?” Cold suspicion glittered in Ellen’s green eyes.
Kat released a little sigh. “I’m here to see you. I love you.”
“Hmmph! If you loved me you’d have me outta here by now. Do you know how many years it’s been, Katherine? Do you have any idea what it’s like for me? Day after day, week after week. . .”
“No, Mom.” Kat tuned her out. She tried not to, she really did, but each and every visit boiled down to the same thing and she couldn’t take it, not today. Not when she’d spent the entire plane trip rehashing her ridiculous conversation with Max. What happened to her backbone? She’d discovered she had one–even faced down some of the most vicious defense lawyers in the country and walked away unscathed. But thirty seconds of Max seemed to have destroyed years of meticulously-built self esteem.
“I know, Mom,” she muttered at the right spots, interspersing it with, “of course you don’t, Mom.” So why was she here? Every month, an entire day away from her practice, for what? Her mother’s words suddenly echoed her thoughts.
“Why do you come, Katherine? You’re not going to help me, that’s clear, so why?”
“I love you, Mom.” It was all she could offer, all she had to give. Sad, really, because it was never enough. Not for her mother. Not for Max. Kat forcibly straightened her shoulders and cleared her throat. “I’ll give Mr. Goldberg a call as soon as I get home. Is there anything you need?”
“Smokes, of course. And candy. The library worker’s new and she likes candy.” Her mother suddenly leaned close, looking conspiratorial. “Has Mitch been in touch with you?”
“Mitch? No. Who’s Mitch?”
“Shhh!” Ellen shook her head. “He will be. Just do what he says. It’s for the best, I think.”
For the best? “Who is he?”
“He’ll tell you. You’ll like him. He’s got pretty eyes.” Her mother made a motion to leave.
“What does he want?” Kat had learned long ago to be wary of her mother’s schemes.
“He’ll tell you,” Ellen repeated. “Gotta go, baby girl. Behave yourself. Make me proud.”
Kat smiled. It was the closest to “I love you” her mother ever got. Kat relished every word.
##
Max sat alone in an interview room at police headquarters in Denver. His cell phone was the only thing on the table in front of him and he eyed it like he would an enemy. He’d spent the afternoon on the phone, calling in old favors. The news wasn’t good and got worse with each tick of the clock. He knew the chances of finding Lizzie rapidly diminished after the first twenty-four hours.
Time for the final call. The one he’d vowed he’d never make. Resolutely, he picked up the phone.
“Viper, it’s Ice.”
The silence that followed his declaration didn’t surprise Max. Their last conversation, seven years ago, had ended with Max vowing his unit commander would never hear from him again. Viper’s chuckle a long second later didn’t surprise him either.
“Took you long enough.”
“Nothing’s changed. I need a favor.” His voice calm and steady, he outlined the facts of Lizzie’s abduction. His ability to detach himself emotionally had earned him his code name. Inside his unit, code names were the only ID ever used. When he finished, he heard Viper’s soft inhalation.
“That’s low, Ice. What do you want?”
“The best.”
“Naturally.”
“I’ve been out too long to know who, so I’ll leave that up to you. I’ve already got a guy from CBI and a local detective I know. They’ll cooperate with whoever you send. The vic was abducted two hours ago.”
“Gotta hand it to you, Ice, you’re cool as ever. This is your niece we’re talking about, correct?”
“Yes. Elizabeth Marie Clark.”
Viper chuckled again. “That’s what I like about you. You do one thing at a time and you do it better than anybody else.
It was true. Worry for Lizzie would consume him again. But not now. “That’s me. Will you help?”
“Of course.” Viper was all business now. “I assume you’re talking inter-agency?”
“Right.”
“I’ll see who’s available and have them ship out tomorrow. We’ll find her, Ice. I guarantee it.”
“Thanks.” As much as he hated reforging his severed ties, the gratitude was real.
“Once we’ve got her back, then we can talk about your return to the unit.”
Max could hear the smile in Viper’s voice. “Not in this lifetime, boss.”
“I’ll get back to you with names and ETAs. We’ve got your number.”
“Right.” Max ended the call and dialed Kat. Running into her in Lizzie’s bedroom just hours before Lizzie was taken was quite the coincidence. Max didn’t believe in coincidences.
As the spring daylight faded from the sky two hours later, Max admired Kat’s sophisticated alarm system in detached silence. It was state-of-the-art. It was also no match for him. He’d had her address before he crossed the Wyoming/Colorado border. Unable to stop himself, he’d driven by her house before going back to the hospital, pulling up just in time to see her silver Lexus departing. He didn’t know where she’d gone, only that she wasn’t here now. Max’s smile was cold. No one was home. He could wait for her inside or out, his choice.
Her home sat back from the street in an upscale neighborhood, which fit with what he knew of her life now. Her house reminded him she wasn’t his Kat any longer. The trust fund her father had left her used to make her uncomfortable. When they’d met, she live
d in a run-down, fourth-floor walk-up over a bar in a terrible neighborhood. Not any longer. This new Kat was upper-class and comfortable with it. Was she like her house? Was she fenced off, perfectly groomed. . .and empty? Max wouldn’t let his mind wander to why he was here. Or to what he’d say when she got home.
Detective Reicher, the best cop in Denver on missing kids, was on the case. Special Agent Jack Myles, the best FBI field agent in Colorado, was too. Thanks to Viper, long-lost co-workers from initialed agencies up and down the East Coast were flying in overnight. The knowledge didn’t help.
Somewhere in the dusk, his little Lizzie was alone with two men who’d snatched her from under his nose. Detective Reicher had calmly banished him an hour ago.
With nothing but roiling anguish in his gut and empty time on his hands, his thoughts had turned back to Kat. She was something he could do. He began to wonder. He was glad she wasn’t home, glad at last for the time he had. He needed time to get a plan together. Oh, yes, he most definitely needed a plan. A better plan than go to her house and make up the rules when you get there.
He’d let her get away twice. She wouldn’t get a third try. Not with Lizzie missing.
##
Kat, exhausted, arrived home via taxi at nearly midnight. Two blown-out tires had capped the excitement for her terrible day. Or so she thought.
Max came out of nowhere, sending her keys scattering, slamming her into the garage door so hard her brain rattled right along with the door. He crushed her arms in a bruising grip. “What the hell were you doing at Miriam’s this morning? Where is she?”
Kat, overwhelmed, shook her head. “I didn’t—she usually—when I didn’t heard from her, I was worried, so I–“
Max gave her a brutal shake. “I swear to God, Kat! Where the hell is she?”
“Who? Miriam? I don’t know,” she managed at last. The man in front of her bore only a token resemblance to Max. The stranger’s eyes were icy cold in the flood lights, and furious with a rage she could only guess at. Fear licked at her spine.
“Where is she?” he demanded again.
Kat stared helplessly. “Max, what’s wrong?”
Max abruptly released one arm, while he caught her chin and forced her eyes up to his. Now the only sound was Kat’s sudden hiss of terror.
“What?” she whispered. “What?”
He didn’t answer, only stared down at her as if determined to read her mind. He released her and Kat slid across the garage door, gaining distance to make a run for it. She kept her gaze carefully on his face and upper body, alert to anything that would signal another attack. When one wasn’t forthcoming, she stopped her retreat, torn between an automatic response to comfort him. . .help him somehow. . .and a similarly strong emotion that screamed run.
Before she could decide which road to choose, Max chose it for her. All his rage dissipated like helium leaking from a balloon. His shoulders slumped and he scrubbed his eyes with a weary hand.
“Max?” she whispered, unable to force a louder sound out of her throat. “What happened?”
“She’s gone, Kat. I lost her.”
“Who?” she whispered, but the cold fingers squeezing at her heart gave her the answer.
##
Lizzie opened her eyes. At least she thought they were open. It was so dark she really couldn’t tell. She thought she could hear voices, coming from far below her somewhere, and the rumble of an engine, but she couldn’t tell for sure about that either. Something was wrong with her ears—it sounded like lots of clapping at a concert, only too far away to be clear. Her head hurt. Kind of a fuzzy, pounding ache back behind her eyes.
There wasn’t anything wrong with her nose, though. The smell of duct tape was crystal clear. She couldn’t move her mouth and the smell made her nose itch. Uncle Max said you could fix anything with duct tape. Even me, she thought crossly.
Her cheeks tried to frown, but the duct tape wouldn’t let them. She carefully blinked her eyes. This time she could feel her eyelashes catch on something. A blindfold?
A grin welled up inside. She was so gonna be famous! Kidnapped, with a blindfold and her hands tied up and everything. Twisting until her forehead was down, she rubbed against the rough material under her. Finally the blindfold rolled up off her eyes and over the top of her head. The knot at the back caught in her hair, pulling painfully on a few strands. Of course. Stupid hair. It was forever getting caught somewhere, in her cap, in her teeth.
Pay attention, Lizzie!
A faint light from behind her illuminated swaying miniature curtains. She rolled to her side and glanced up at a ceiling that was much too close. A camper! Like the one Max used for hunting with his buddies. She wished Max was here now.
Think, Lizard.
She smiled in the darkness. That was his voice, reminding her to be calm. Just like when he went over the kidnapping scenario with her, like a gazillion times.
What do you do first?
Say no.
And next?
Scream.
Well, the man hadn’t given her a chance to do either. He hadn’t given her even one chance to look for Max. He’d smacked that stinky rag over her whole face as soon as they got outside.
What do you do while you’re screaming?
Run like the wind.
The man hadn’t given her a chance to run, either. There were two of them and when the man holding the cloth over her face had lifted her in the air, she’d started kicking. It wasn’t on Max’s list, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. She’d clobbered him good, too. He’d made a loud, choking sound, before someone else had grabbed her feet and taped them together. The last thing she remembered was the smacking rip of duct tape. Now it was all she could smell.
Duct tape was stinky.
Lizzie rolled to her side and started rubbing at the edges of the tape over her mouth. It was a long process and she halted frequently to listen. The voices she heard below her weren’t those of her kidnappers. Whoever was driving down below was listening to the radio. Would she be an Amber Alert? She sighed happily. This was much better than Suzie Bogg’s trip to Las Vegas. All she had to do was escape, so she could tell everyone at school. The tape covering her mouth finally began to move. She scrubbed at it fiercely, thinking of all the things she needed to do before she escaped.
She had to leave traces of herself, which the police could use to prove she was here. Maybe when she got home and the police had caught her kidnappers because of the clues she’d left for them, maybe then Mom would believe she was old enough to watch CSI. Of course she was old enough and she already watched it. All of them, Vegas and Miami, and NCIS reruns too, but Mom didn’t know. Max didn’t think she was old enough, either. He said gore wasn’t good bedtime entertainment for a young lady. Young lady, hah! She sniffed. One of these days Max would give up. She wasn’t ever gonna be a young lady.
Her face was getting raw from rubbing at the tape, but she didn’t stop. It was looser now. Not too much longer. Then she could use her teeth to free her hands. What was she supposed to do? Oh, yeah. The clues. Hair, of course, but she was already dumping a ton of that, between the knot in the blindfold and rubbing her head on the mattress. They hadn’t even put sheets on the stupid bed. Maybe she could find something sharp, poke herself and leave some blood. Not a lot, of course, just enough to catch the kidnappers. What else? If that tape didn’t come off soon, the police would have some stinky puke to find, too. Her stomach was twisting around inside.
Deep breaths, Lizzie.
Which would be fine if I wasn’t breathing in the duct tape, Uncle Max.
Darn, but she wished he was here. She blinked hard in the darkness. On CSI, the police found other things too. Like bodies. Lizzie shuddered.
Don’t go there.
Max again. Lizzie renewed her efforts to get her mouth free.
Buck up, Lizard. It’s nothin’ you didn’t get yourself into.
When did he tell her that? Oh yeah, after she’d waded in the cr
eek and cut her foot. He’d been so angry, but he’d stayed right with her through the shot and the stitches and everything. Then he’d gone home and told Mom on her. Sheesh!
Course, it was true—she had gotten herself into this. Max was gonna be furious, especially when he found out how stupid she’d been–falling for the old line about how Uncle Max needed her and sent them to get her. Lizzie rolled her eyes in the semi-darkness. How could she have been so dumb?
Except they’d known the secret code word she and Uncle Max shared. How had they known? Well, it didn’t matter now. She’d gotten herself into this and she could just get herself out. All she had to do was figure out how. Until she did, she was stuck, really stuck, with duct tape covering her mouth, holding her arms together like sticks and. . .Lizzie gave a quick kick. Yep, duct tape on her legs, too. Max was gonna be so mad! That thought was too scary, so she went back to work on the tape, listening hard for clues to tell her where they were going.
