Nate ignored a pang of guilt racing through his system. He should be the one putting his life on the line. If this mission resulted in his friend coming home in a body bag, the blame would sit squarely on Nate’s shoulders.
He didn’t relish staying home. As a form of penance, he’d do something he hated. Rub elbows with the brass in a few government agencies. Dalton’s help getting Nate some face time with a few government agencies would be one hell of a boost for business. With two extra on the payroll, the agency needed additional work. And they’d get more if ... no, not if, when Tyrell completed the op successfully.
As soon as Tyrell was squared away and on a plane, Nate had a mission of his own. Kaycie. He needed her to accept him and his vocation. This wasn’t just his job. It was his calling. But one part of his life was incomplete. She was the missing piece.
****
Kay parked outside her apartment building. She was glad to have the first day back at work behind her. Nate had only crossed her mind a few dozen times, which turned out to be the bright spots of the day. Her heart had broken open once, forcing her to close her office door and pull herself together. Other times, she’d retreated to the restroom and hid in a stall until the desperation passed. Sheer willpower had kept her from calling Tyrell to ask if Nate had left the country.
The rest of her day hadn’t been easy either. Her boss, the chief of police, her grandfather, and her mother had at one time or another taken delight in chewing Kay’s butt out. A small jab to the heart came when she’d heard nothing from her father.
By afternoon, things had settled down. She’d been assigned new case files. Truth was, she was grateful she still had a job.
The FBI had semi-controlled the media by keeping her and the guys’ names and pictures out of the paper. Dalton and the Dallas chief of police had smiled for the cameras and given a vague overview of what happened in Oklahoma.
Kay refused to second-guess her decision to keep the police in the dark. Holly was home safe, and Leann Vaughn’s killer was dead. Jake’s fate worried Kay, and she intended to follow his progress closely.
Eager to stretch out on the couch and put this day to rest, Kay dragged herself out of the car.
A man stepped in front of her, blocking her path. The pistol in his hand was aimed at her heart.
Chapter 28
“Mr. Walsh. What are you doing here?” Kay’s mind skittered in a dozen directions as she stared down the barrel of his gun.
“You killed my son.” His hand trembled, and the pistol quivered. Chills rippled across her arms.
Kay stood very still, commanding her feet not to bolt. The wild gleam in Anthony Walsh’s eyes iced the blood in her veins, and she scrambled to appear calm.
“I understand you’re looking for someone to blame. I’m sure the police explained that Hank’s accomplice, the man who calls himself Johnny Darling, killed your son.” She scanned the parking lot, hoping one of her fellow tenants would drive up and call out to her.
“No. You meddling bitch, his death is your fault.” He advanced one menacing step. The trembling in his hand ceased. “Move.”
Unsure what he intended to do, Kay proceeded the direction he pointed. “Mr. Walsh, let me help. I can put you in touch with a grief counselor.”
He jerked open the driver’s side door to a dark sedan. “Get in and scoot over.”
Her stomach dropped to her feet. Leaving with him in this agitated state would be a mistake.
“You don’t really want to do this. If you harm me, you’ll be no better than Hank. He kidnapped and raped my friend. The FBI has only scratched the surface. Who knows what they’ll uncover. But nobody has the right to sell another human being.”
Anthony Walsh’s face turned beet red. The vein between his eyes pulsed. She’d said the wrong thing about his son.
“Move.” The gentle face of the silver-haired gentleman had morphed into a portrait of a cold-eyed, steel-jawed madman.
No way was she getting in the car with him. She’d been a cop long enough to know better. Steeling herself for a fight, she stepped in front of him.
Her skull exploded in pain, buckling her legs. She struggled to remain conscious, lacked the strength to resist being shoved into the car. She opened her mouth to scream. No sound came out.
****
Nate had studied maps of the terrain with Tyrell. They’d gone over drawings and satellite photographs of the jungle until both were comfortable with the plan.
Tyrell was to meet with Ms. Cisneros, who would then provide him with the equipment he’d need to penetrate a fortress built deep in the jungle and carry out the mission.
Nate left Tyrell at the office and drove straight to Kaycie’s apartment. He parked next to her car, rolled his still-sore shoulder, and got out of his pickup. He appreciated that the pain was diminishing. He might be stiff, but it wasn’t enough to prevent him from getting back to life.
He wished he’d prepared his speech as well as he’d planned the Colombian op. But here, facing Kaycie, was where he had to start. Or end. He’d have his say, and the rest would be up to her.
For the first time in a long while, he actually felt deserving of happiness. Kaycie had looked into his soul, held his heart in her hand and found a worthwhile person. Somehow, she’d lightened his burden of survivor guilt. He wanted to do the same for her. She’d suggested he’d lived for a reason. Maybe she was why.
She’d also said send me a bill and then marched right out of his life. Had she turned her back on him as a punishment? Or had she been telling the truth when she said he was past history?
Could it be fear he’d hurt her again? Of course, she didn’t trust him. It was a hundred percent his fault she was skeptical.
The cool evening breeze blew across Nate’s bare neck, sending a chill up his spine and a laugh from deep in his chest. He almost hadn’t recognized himself in the mirror after the haircut. Kaycie was sure to be surprised. Maybe even pleased.
He knocked on her door and moved back, prepared to surprise her. Surely, she’d take his short hair as a sign of good faith. He waited and then knocked again.
“Please talk to me.” He waited a few heartbeats and knocked harder. “I know you’re in there. I parked next to your car.”
He waited in the hall for what seemed like hours, knocking and talking to the peephole. Tired of speaking to the closed door, he dialed her cell and got her voice mail, so he left a message.
Maybe she’d gone down to Holly’s. In a couple of strides, he was knocking on her door.
The purple and green bruises on Holly’s face had faded, but her appearance kicked him in the gut. She really was as tough as Tyrell said. According to Marcus, she’d resigned her position at Child Protective Services. Wanted nothing more than to rest, go to therapy, and forget the kidnapping and beating.
“Nate,” she said, backing up to allow him entrance. “I hoped to get a chance to thank you.”
“Not necessary.” He followed her to her living room.
“Still. I’m grateful.” She slanted her head and stared up at him. “Nice haircut.”
“Thanks.” She motioned him to a chair, but he stood. “I’m looking for Kaycie. Is she here with you?”
“No, I’m guessing you already tried her apartment.”
“Yes. She’s not answering the door or her phone.” Nate’s guts twisted. “And her car’s in the parking lot.”
“She called when she left work and headed home.” Holly blinked rapidly, her gaze darted around the room. “She’s really not friends with anyone else in the complex. Maybe she stopped by the manager’s office.”
“I’ll check.” Nate hated to frighten her, but his nerve endings were screaming trouble, and he didn’t know why.
“Wait. I can call.” A minute later, she hung up. “The manger saw Kay leaving with a man about an hour ago. Didn’t see much more, but she seemed to know him.”
Nate checked in with Marcus while Holly called Tyrell. Kaycie wasn’t with eit
her one of them, and neither had spoken with her.
Nate returned to the parking lot to check Kaycie’s car. He hadn’t looked closely before, now he noticed the driver’s-side door was ajar. Other than that, he found no signs of foul play.
He’d worried when Holly went missing, but this was Kaycie. Fear gripped him by the throat, squeezing tightly.
As he jogged back to Holly’s, his blood pumped rapidly through his veins. With every step, his shoulder throbbed. He blocked out the pain. Now wasn’t the time to feel sorry for himself. Not until he was sure Kaycie was safe and he’d told her he loved her.
Holly waited in her open doorway.
“No luck?” Nate knew the answer before Holly spoke. Tears pooled in her eyes, threatening to spill. Her facial expression telegraphed her fear and shook him to the core.
“No one’s heard from her.”
After getting Marcus and Tyrell en route to Kaycie’s apartment, Nate got Tomas on the phone and explained she was missing. Nate would’ve talked with the devil himself to find her.
When he hung up, he turned to Holly. “Call the manager again. Ask if she noticed anything about the man. What kind of car they drove off in.”
“You think this is related to the human-trafficking ring. Don’t you?” Holly wrapped her arms around her middle.
“Yeah. I do.”
“You’re scaring me. I had a hard enough time coming back into this apartment. Now I’m afraid of being alone.”
“I understand. Tyrell and Marcus will be here soon. They’ll stay with you.” Seconds later, Nate had Dalton on the line.
“Has Jake Donovan been moved?”
“No. DPD wanted a few days to question him before letting him leave Texas. Why?”
“I have to see him.”
“He’s in a holding cell at the Lew Sterrett jail. Scheduled to be moved tomorrow. Again, why?”
Nate gave a down-and-dirty update. It was critical Dalton buy into the theory that Kaycie’s disappearance was related to Hank Walsh. Nate’s popularity with DPD sucked. It would take the FBI to get Nate clearance to speak with Jake.
“Call those two detectives and get them involved,” Dalton said without hesitation.
“Already called them.”
“I’m not making any promises.” Dalton fell quiet for a minute. “I’ll contact the DPD Chief.”
****
The cold seeped through Kay’s thin blouse. She woke to find herself in the dark, shivering and chilled to the bone. The image of Anthony Walsh and the gun snapped her awake and sent her heart jackhammering against her ribs.
For the second time in weeks, the movement kicked off a pain in her head and sent the room spinning. Her wrists and ankles were so tightly bound the circulation had been cut off. Her hands and feet stung painfully.
Her lungs filled with a paralyzing fear. She opened her mouth to scream. Her vocal chords closed and nothing happened.
The familiar scent of bleach on cement hit her nostrils. Terror raced through her thoughts. Was this the Walsh warehouse where she’d been held the first time?
Walsh. Hank’s father blamed her for his son’s death.
The sound of a door scraping the cement sent shivers across her scalp. Her skin crawled. An overhead light came on, temporarily blinding her. A sudden burst of fire in her side knocked the wind from her. Her ribs burned.
“That’s just a sample of what I have planned for you.” Anthony Walsh leaned close enough for her to get a good look at his face. “You will not die as quickly as my son. I may leave you like this for days. I hear water deprivation is a horrible way to go.”
A second blast of white-hot pain hit her rib cage, compliments of the toe of his shoe. She screamed, releasing the pent-up terror. The sound reverberating in her ears. “Please, don’t do this.”
“Please,” he mimicked with a long whine. Then he laughed a maniacal sound that ricocheted through her brain and lodged forever in her memory.
A piece of hope withered in Kay’s heart.
“I’m scheduled to attend a fundraiser for the district attorney. I’ll make a big campaign donation, and then I’ll be back.” He put his foot on her stomach, mashed and laughed when she cried out.
“The rats will keep you company.”
The small room fell dark and silent.
Kay fought to catch her breath. She rolled to her side, hoping the pain would ease.
Her imagination ran in a thousand directions. Would he really leave her here to die? Rape her? Put the gun to her head and pull the trigger?
She’d read case studies of extreme cruelty, and his irrational behavior painted gory images in her mind. Alone and shivering more from fear than the cold, Kay refused to give in to blind terror. She’d escaped before and she’d do it again.
No one knew she was missing, so no one was searching. When she didn’t show up for work, somebody would call. Eventually they’d GPS her phone and come free her. Until then, she’d have to deal with the crazed father alone.
But where was her purse? Her cell? She could tell by the absence of weight her Glock was gone. Damn, she’d removed the tracer from her holster.
She pulled her wrists to her mouth. The small rope was securely knotted. She wouldn’t rip the restraints with her teeth this time.
As the long night wore on, she faced the possibility of her own death. Kay questioned her own stubbornness. Her past mistakes. So many regrets. So many hurts unresolved. So many truths unspoken. She’d allowed her father to blame her for her brother’s death way too long. Should she have come clean after he died? Would it have mattered?
The worst rip in her aching heart was Nate. She’d wanted him to stop her from walking away that day at the hospital, but he hadn’t. So why hadn’t she fought for him? Forced him to admit he loved her?
Instead of wondering where she was right now, her real-life superhero was probably deep in the jungle where he, too, might die.
The motorcycle-riding ninja who’d saved her wouldn’t magically show up to rescue her. Not this time.
She sobbed out his name and whispered, “I love you.”
Chapter 29
Tomas and Wayne escorted Nate through the security checkpoint at the city jail. The group followed a broad-backed uniformed guard down the drab gray hall.
Nate’s jaw ached from grinding his teeth. His shoulder throbbed, but he mentally forced the pain out of his mind.
Trying to pound answers out of Jake probably wouldn’t accomplish a thing. Didn’t mean the urge to try wasn’t strong.
A guard led the way to a small interview room and motioned them inside where Jake Donovan, wrists handcuffed and ankles shackled, waited.
The guard spread his feet and folded his arms over his chest.
“You got zilch from him, right?” Nate wouldn’t put it past the cops to hold back information.
Wayne gave his head a slight shake. “Other than denying he’s Jake Donovan? We got nothing.”
Tomas’s hand was on the doorknob when Nate stopped him. “Let me talk to Jake alone. If he wouldn’t open up to you before he sure won’t if he feels like we’re ganging up on him.”
Tomas glanced over his shoulder, his expression stone cold. “No. If he sees three of us, he’ll know we mean business.”
“You’ve got ten minutes.” Wayne clamped a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “If you get nothing, then we’ll try a group run at Donovan.”
Tomas stepped aside.
Nate’s palms itched when he entered the interrogation room. He turned the chair around and straddled it, facing Jake, who stared at the top of the table.
“Look, it doesn’t matter if you remember me or not. Just listen.”
Nate forced himself not to rush. It was agony to talk about the past, explaining how they’d been friends. He pulled the chain from under his shirt and over his head.
“Take a look.” He slid his hand with his dog tags and the Saint Jude medal resting on his palm across the table. “Somebody gave you
one of these. Do you remember who?”
Nate’s blood pressure freaked when Jake lifted his head. His gaze was blank as it locked with Nate’s.
“No.”
Shit. He’d hoped for some kind of recognition. “Kaycie Taylor gave one to you, me, Marcus, and Tyrell over ten years ago. She had some foolish notion it would keep us safe.”
“Seems to have worked for you.”
Nate bit back his simmering anger. “Kaycie used to be your friend. And she’s missing. I believe her abduction is tied to your case, and you can help me find her.”
For the first time, Jake’s expression brightened, and a smile tugged at his mouth. “I’d like to see Holly.”
“After what you put her through, what makes you think she’d agree to be in the same room with you?”
Jake’s shoulders sagged, and his gaze dropped back to the top of the table.
Damn it. Holly had suffered a lot. Asking her to confront her captor might be too much. Nate gripped the back of the chair until his knuckles turned white. Jake’s silences stretched his self-control to the limit. Nate had to reach deep inside the silent man’s subconscious.
“You and I have a lot of history. Out of Wolfe’s Pack, as Kaycie nicknamed us, you and I were the tightest. Tyrell and Marcus were good football players, but you were great. You could read my mind from anywhere on the field. If I got into trouble, you were the one who broke free and came back to pull off the catch of the game.”
Jake lifted his head and quirked one eyebrow. His lips might as well have been glued shut. Nate accepted that Holly was the key.
“I’ll ask Holly. But if she refuses, I expect answers.”
Jake’s eyes locked with his. Nate swallowed. What if medical science couldn’t help Jake? What had he endured that brought him to this place?
“I’ll only talk to her.”
Nate bolted from the room.
****
Kay’s screams vibrated off the walls in the empty room. Her calls for help had gone unheard. All she’d accomplished was a dry and raw throat.
Flat on her back, she used her feet to shove her body through the darkness. Each time she applied pressure to her soles, the stinging from lack of blood burned worse. Convinced she’d been here and knew her way around, she struggled until she rose to her knees. Her bound extremities made moving difficult and exhausting. Still, she had to try to get outside.
Hell Or High Water (Lost and Found, Inc.) Page 20
