Ultimate Prey (Book 3 Ultimate CORE) (CORE Series)

by Kristine Mason

  Harrison straightened in the passenger seat and stared out the window. “There’s Rachel’s car. You didn’t tell me she’d be here. God, the woman hates me.”

  Harrison had taken over Rachel Malcolm’s position while the computer forensics analyst had been on maternity leave, and although the woman was given her job back, she was still very territorial. But until their boss reassigned him, Rachel was stuck sharing a desk with Harrison. Or rather, Harrison was stuck with Rachel.

  “Hate’s a very strong word,” she said, killing the ignition.

  “Okay, then she strongly dislikes me.”

  She slid out of the car. “Maybe you should talk to her about this strong dislike.”

  “That might only make her dislike me even more,” he said, walking toward the elevator.

  “Sounds like you’re afraid of her.”

  “Not at all. But she does have a great way of making my days miserable.”

  “Buck up, buttercup.” She stepped into the elevator. “I’m sure you’ll get reassigned soon.”

  “If not, I’m thinking about heading south and meeting up with my buddy.”

  “What about your contract with Ian?” Back in April, Harrison had unknowingly taken part in one of the largest domestic terrorist attacks in U.S. history. Because of him, though, CORE and the FBI had been able to put an end to the mastermind behind the attacks. And because of Ian’s connections, the charges against Harrison had been minimal. He’d served a couple of months in a minimum-security prison, then had been released. Only that release had come with a catch, one that Harrison had told her he hadn’t minded. He’d signed an employment contract with Ian that basically stated Harrison owed CORE two years of his life. According to Harrison, they were two well-paid years, which had made the condition easier to swallow.

  She still didn’t know all the details from that particular investigation. Considering how tight-lipped the CORE agents who’d been involved in the case had been, she likely never would. That was okay with her. What mattered was that Harrison now worked for CORE. During the past five months they’d worked together, they’d become friends. Now that she thought about it, Harrison was her only true friend in Chicago. Dante and his wife, Jessica, were great people and she loved hanging out with them, but they were older than her by ten to twelve years, and treated her like a kid sister, which she also liked since she was an only child. But there were boundaries other than age between those two. Dante and Jessica were married and had a baby on the way. They were established, had history—bottom line, they were adults. At twenty-nine, she was an adult, too. But for some reason, she still felt like a kid around them, and even her boss. As if everyone knew what was best for her, or was always trying to steer her in a direction she wasn’t sure she wanted to go.

  God, she needed to get out of her head. What she really needed was to take a long, hard look at where she saw herself heading. Did she want to continue to work for CORE? She appreciated that Ian had taken a chance on her, but could she picture herself doing this job for the next five, ten or even twenty years? Or better yet, living in Chicago? She’d followed her mom to the city and had come to love it and how the people here weren’t as fake or pretentious as they were in her hometown of Los Angeles. But she missed the beach, the sun kissing her skin, being able to take a long weekend and travel down the coast to San Diego, where the weather was always beautiful.

  “I told you before that I’d do anything for Ian,” Harrison answered, staring at the light indicating which floor they passed. “He kept me from heading to death row.”

  “Repeatedly.” Over the past couple of months Harrison had made the same vague comment to her. “Instead of hinting around… If you want to tell me about what happened, just say it.”

  “I’m not at liberty to share the details.” He cleared his throat, then leaned closer. “Unless you really want to know,” he whispered.

  She grinned. “But wasn’t keeping your involvement secret part of your contract?” she asked. “And why are you whispering?”

  “I don’t trust Ian or Rachel.” He nodded toward the security camera in the corner of the elevator. “She could be watching us now.”

  Lola rolled her eyes. “If you’re that paranoid, then quit talking about it,” she said, just as the elevator slowed to their floor. “And you never answered my question. What’ll happen if you breach your contract with Ian?”

  He shrugged. “Then I’m a felon without a job.”

  She stepped into CORE’s foyer, then stopped and turned to Harrison. “So the contract…”

  “Was to protect me and more of a formality. I’m guaranteed a job and benefits for the next two years. Without CORE, I’ll be back to flipping burgers, if I’m lucky.”

  “Then why leave?” she asked, keeping her voice low as they walked through the darkened reception area.

  The door to CORE’s evidence and evaluation room opened. “Good, you’re here,” Dante said. “We don’t have much time.” He took her arm and moved her away from the door. “Harrison, head in. I need to talk to Lola.”

  “Ten minutes until go time,” Rachel called from inside the room.

  Dante let out a frustrated sigh. “Never mind. We’ll talk when our meeting is over. Come on,” he said to Lola and Harrison.

  Rachel frowned when Lola entered the room. “Who told you to bring him?” she asked, glaring at Harrison.

  “I did,” Dante said, taking a seat. “We need everyone in on this.”

  Rachel flicked her gaze between her and Harrison, then glanced to Dante. “You’re the boss.”

  “Seriously dislikes me,” Harrison mumbled to Lola, then sat next to her.

  Instead of acknowledging Harrison, she glanced around the room and made eye contact with John Kain, her boss’s son-in-law. John quickly looked away, worry in his eyes. Because they were all summoned in the middle of the night, this case must be big. Since she’d never seen John this concerned before, she now worried just how big it might be.

  Dante cleared his throat. “Now that everyone is here—”

  “Not everyone,” Hudson Patterson said. “We’re missing Jake and Lloyd.”

  “Hudson’s been out of town,” Rachel reminded Dante, then turned to the former CIA agent. “Jake’s with his wife in Guatemala finalizing the adoption process for their new child, and Lloyd’s in Paris with Will for an art tour. Neither will be back until next week.” She looked around the room. “So it’s going to be up to us to help Ian.”

  Owen Malcolm, Rachel’s husband and a former U.S. Secret Service agent, grimaced. “I still think we should bring in the Feds.”

  “Not an option,” Dante said, then nodded to Rachel, who used her laptop to fire up the six flat screen TVs hanging on the main wall. “In less than ten minutes, we’re going to be contacted by a man claiming to have taken Ian and his friend, Camilla Carlyle, hostage.”

  The blood rushed from Lola’s head. Dante’s voice became tinny, distant. She couldn’t focus on anything but the buzzing in her ears and the fear tripping her heart. Nausea set in quickly and she fought hard not to panic. Dante could be wrong. He had to be. Ian was former FBI. He ran a top-notch criminal investigation company. This had to be a mistake. This had to—

  “Where?” Hudson asked, leaned forward in the chair and set his palms on the table.

  Lola shifted her gaze to him, then to Dante and Rachel. “The Florida Everglades,” she managed, despite the tightening of her throat and the threat of tears. “They arrived today around five-thirty and were settled into their rental house a couple of hours later.”

  “How did you know?” Rachel asked. “That information was confidential. Other than myself, Dante and John, no one knew where Ian was going.”

  When Lola looked around the room, she met John’s eyes again, and now understood why he’d looked worried. This wasn’t just a big case, this was personal.

  She glanced away from John, then pressed a fist to her upset stomach. “Because Camilla Carlyle is my moth
er.”

  Chapter 2

  LOLA STRAIGHTENED AND tossed her hair over her shoulder, the disbelief and accusation in Rachel’s eyes setting her on edge. “Don’t believe Camilla Carlyle is my mom? Ask John or Dante.” She shoved her chair back and stood. “Actually, I don’t care if you do or not. Just tell me what you know. Is she okay?” She pressed the back of her hand to her chin to keep it from trembling. “Is she hurt?”

  Rachel looked to Dante. “She’s really this woman’s daughter?”

  Outrage had Lola’s entire body tensing. “I suggest you watch how you refer to my mother.”

  Dante held up a hand. “Lola, not everyone is aware that Ian is dating. He’s very private.”

  “You and John know.” She eyed Rachel. “By the way, who do you think bought you a breast pump for your shower gift? Ian? Nope. My mom.”

  She ran a shaky hand along her forehead. Mom. This couldn’t be happening. Her mother was everything to her. She’d come to Chicago months after Cami had moved here to take the lead role in a play that had re-launched her acting career. While she’d loved living in California, she loved her mom even more and had been lonely for her company. Damn, she’d simply missed seeing her face.

  Her mom’s beautiful image flashed in her mind. Bright blue eyes, infectious smile…

  A tear managed to slip down her cheek.

  Nothing could happen to her. She was so vibrant and talented, and had so much to live for. Cami was also the only family she had left, and was the only one who truly understood her and accepted her, no matter what.

  Rachel tapped her fingers along her computer keyboard. Cami’s driver’s license photo instantly appeared on the flat screen. “I’m sorry, Lola. I didn’t know. You have to admit, you and your mom look nothing alike, plus you don’t have the same last name.”

  No, they didn’t. When Lola was a little girl she used to envy her mom’s peaches and cream complexion, blue eyes and blond hair. She’d sit in front of the mirror and move the skin around her eyes, wondering what she’d look like if she hadn’t had a Chinese father—not that she’d trade her dad for any other. If an accident hadn’t taken his life, her parents would probably still be together now. Living in LA, enjoying life. Only her mom was in the Everglades, being held hostage and—

  She slumped back into her seat and stared at her mother’s photo. “I want to know everything.”

  “Everyone here does,” Dante said. “Rachel?”

  “Okay, so I received a text at eleven-fifty from Ian’s cell phone. The message said, ‘Gather every CORE agent. I will contact you via Skype in forty minutes. If I don’t see Owen Malcolm, John Kain, Hudson Patterson, Dante Russo and you during my call, I will kill the woman.’” Rachel glanced her way, apology written all over her face. “He attached this picture to the text.”

  After Rachel made a couple of strokes to the keyboard, another photo appeared on the next screen. Lola quickly covered her mouth and turned away.

  “Hang in there, Lola,” Dante said, his voice soft, gentle, yet commanding. “Your name wasn’t mentioned, so I’m going to need you to be strong for us.”

  Us. Meaning CORE. In the six months she’d been working for Ian, she’d come to realize that these people lived, breathed and existed for his agency. They were committed to one another, to Ian and to the company. She, on the other hand, owed nothing to them and had yet to feel as if she belonged here. But she’d be strong. Not for them or for CORE, but for her mother.

  With a nod, she swiped at her eyes, then faced the terrifying image on the screen. Ian sat in a chair next to her mom. Both of them were bound, had duct tape over their mouths and blindfolds over their eyes. Black mascara coated the skin along her mom’s cheek, while blood oozed from Ian’s nose. Her stomach rolled and her heart ached. At the same time, resentment toward Ian and his damned agency made her want to lash out and punch a hole in the wall. Her mom wouldn’t be in this position if it wasn’t for Ian. She had no enemies. No crazed stalkers. No, this had to have something to do with Ian. Her mom was merely a casualty.

  “Owen and I rushed to CORE as soon as we could,” Rachel said, pushing her red bangs from her forehead. “Along the way, I started looking into anyone who has a grudge against Ian or Camilla.” She shook her head. “I didn’t find anything relating to Camilla—”

  “Cami,” Lola said, still staring at the photo. “She goes by Cami.”

  “Okay,” Rachel began, “as for Ian…he was with the FBI for over twenty years before he left, and with CORE being in business for the past eight, I don’t even know where to begin looking.”

  “When the kidnapper Skypes, will you be able to track his location?” Hudson asked.

  “Unfortunately, no.”

  “Wait,” Lola said. “Didn’t you call the local PD? If you don’t have the address of the place Ian rented, I do. My mom texted it to me before she left.” She pulled her cell phone from her purse and opened up the last text from her mom. “She also sent me these.” She handed the phone to Dante, who glanced from the pictures of the rental her mom had taken earlier that day, to the picture the kidnapper had sent.

  Dante handed her the phone and nodded to the TV. “That’s the rental’s kitchen.”

  Rachel pinched her fingers along the bridge of her freckled nose. “The last part of the text said that if we send the cops, they both die.”

  “And you believe this guy?” Lola asked, stunned. “If he’s going to go through the trouble of holding my mom and Ian hostage, he’s not going to kill them.”

  “Not right away,” John added.

  A chill chased up her arms. “My point is that if he’s going to do this.” She jerked her head to the photograph that had been texted to Rachel. “We might have—”

  “I get your point.” John pushed his chair away from the table, but didn’t rise. “And I get that you’re worried about Cami. Trust me, I’m worried, too. Ian’s my father-in-law. I left my wife sleeping and have no idea how I’m going to break this to her.”

  “Look, this isn’t easy on either one of you,” Dante said. “But I also think Lola’s right. This guy wouldn’t go through all this trouble if he planned to kill them right away. According to the picture he sent, we know Ian and Cami are still at the rental house. If we call the cops, he could take them and disappear.”

  “I agree,” Rachel said, while Hudson and Owen nodded.

  She looked to Harrison for support. “I’m with them on this. At this point, we might as well wait and find out what he wants.”

  “He should be calling any minute.” Hudson glanced at his watch, then to her and Harrison. “When he does, you two should stay out of view.”

  “He doesn’t know about us, or Jake and Lloyd,” Harrison said, nodding. “That could be a good thing if we need to head down there.”

  If? There was no ‘if’ in Lola’s mind, only when. “How is it that he knows about the rest of you, and not about us?” she asked, thumbing toward Harrison. “I don’t think this is anything relating to when Ian was with the FBI. Whoever’s behind this has to have a connection to CORE.”

  “Could be,” Rachel said. “But CORE has resolved hundreds of cases. If this is about revenge, we have a long list of people who—”

  Rachel’s laptop generated a sound, indicating an incoming call. “That’s him,” she said, angling the laptop away from the wall of TVs. “Lola and Harrison, stay out of sight. You’ll be able to see what we’re seeing on the third screen behind you.”

  After Lola and Harrison quickly rose and took seats opposite of the rest of the agents, Rachel drew in a deep breath, then answered.

  “You’re very prompt, Miss Davis.” A man wearing a black ski mask filled the screen. “Is the rest of the team with you? I’d hate to have to kill Cami. She is quite a legend. If the Academy ever gave out Oscars for the best screamer, it would be criminal if she didn’t win,” he said, chuckling.

  “As you instructed, the team is here.”

  “Let me see their faces.�
��

  One by one, the agents stood, then moved in front of the laptop. After each had shown that they were indeed present, the man said, “Good. Now we can have some fun.” He stepped away, revealing Lola’s mom and Ian, still bound to their chairs, their mouths duct taped, the blindfolds removed. A haze of smoke clouded the room, which had been lit by a lantern sitting on the stovetop. “I know how much Ian loves a good hunt.” He rested a hand on Ian’s bare shoulder, then stood behind him. The man was so enormous that the top of his masked head had been cut from the screen. “It’s also one of the reasons he’s recruited each one of you. He gives you assignments with the expectation that you will show no fear, take risks and do whatever it takes to hunt down your prey and bring them to justice.” He squeezed Ian’s shoulder. “Boss man does have a reputation to uphold. But you know what I’ve been wondering? How would Ian handle himself if he was the one being hunted?”

  “CORE hunts criminals,” Dante said. “Last time I checked, Ian is one of the good guys.”

  He ruffled Ian’s salt and pepper hair with his huge, gloved hand. “Dudley Do-Right thinks you’re one of the good guys. But why wouldn’t he? He always was an ass-kisser. Hey, Dante, do you still pucker up when Ian bends over, or have you grown a set of balls and learned to think for yourself?”

  Dante glared at the computer screen, but remained silent.

  “Nothing?” the man asked. “That’s just as well. I don’t have time for a long-drawn-out conversation. Dawn will be here before we know it, and that’s one of my favorite times to hunt.”

  “You’re going to hunt Ian?” Owen asked.

  The man bent and wrapped his arms around Ian and her mom’s shoulders. “No, since I love a challenge, I’m going to hunt Ian and the screamer.”

  When her mom’s eyes widened and fresh tears slipped down her mascara-stained cheeks, Lola looked away from the screen. The sick bastard was going to hunt her mother like an animal. Oh, God. Why? Why was he toying with them, with the CORE agents?