Point of Control

by L. J. Sellers

  “She’s my ex-wife.”

  That explained why the supervisor was out in the field. “Do you have any personal insight into this incident?”

  Thorpe was built like a pro wrestler and had thick gray hair that didn’t match his still-unlined face. He shook his head. “We’ve been divorced for more than a decade. But Nelson and I are handling this kidnapping, so I’m not sure why you’re here.”

  They had the room set up as a command center, as though they expected a ransom call. Bailey didn’t have to explain anything, but she wanted their cooperation. “You’re not going to hear from the kidnappers, because this isn’t about money.”

  “We realize that,” Thorpe snapped. “But we can’t make any assumptions.”

  “You should. I suspect they’ll force her to share her research, then kill her.” Before she could continue, a young man burst into the room.

  “Kill her? No!” He turned his back on the other agents. “You can’t let them do that,” he said to Bailey. “You have to get out there and find her. Not just sit here like these guys!” He gestured over his shoulder at the other agents.

  Even contorted with passion, his face was compelling. Bright blue eyes, with delineated cheekbones and jawline. He wasn’t gorgeous, but still, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. “I intend to find her. Who are you?”

  “Garrett Thorpe, Dana’s son.” He glanced at Agent Thorpe and quickly looked away.

  How old was he? Twenty-five? “You were with her when she was abducted?”

  “Yes. I tried to follow and get a license plate, but I was on foot.” He had a deep, pleasant voice and full lips.

  Agent Thorpe stepped over, and she could see the facial resemblance. “We have his statement.” He turned to his son. “Please stay out of this and let us do our job.”

  Pompous ass. Bailey moved toward Garrett and touched his elbow. “Let’s go in the kitchen and talk.” She needed as much intel as she could get from him, and Garrett was clearly intimidated by his father.

  The son turned and led the way, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he went. She watched his body with enjoyment. He wasn’t as bulky as his father, but he was taller than her and athletic, with a sexy flat stomach. Her attraction surprised her. Her sexuality tended to be responsive, rather than overt, so since she’d quit dating, she hadn’t given much thought to hooking up. Bailey pushed the distracting thoughts out of her head. He was a witness, only someone to collect information from . . . unless he’d conspired with the kidnappers.

  In the kitchen, he asked, “Would you like some coffee? Or something?”

  “Sure.” It would give her another minute to observe him.

  His movements were an odd mix—his upper body and arms fluid and confident, while his left leg hesitated. He had an injury. But not just a physical one. His eyes held emotional pain. Everyone had insecurities, and she could usually pick up on them right away. His were likely connected to his parents. Angry with his father and some kind of guilt connected to his mother.

  “Do you live here with your mom?”

  “Yes. But only for now.” A little defensive.

  “Why now?”

  He turned to face her. “I was in an accident and couldn’t work while I was recovering. It was convenient to move back here.” A little shrug. “My mother insisted. She likes having me here, because I help her out too.” Anguish flooded his face. “Listen, I love my mother more than life itself. And I owe her everything. You have to find her.”

  Such passion. She’d never felt that intensely about anyone. Even her father, whom she loved despite his coldness. What would it be like to experience that? Joyful at times, but painful too. Was it worth it? She would never know. “Tell me about that night. Every detail could be important.”

  Garrett poured two cups of coffee and sat down. “I was backstage, waiting for her. Public speaking makes Mom nervous and she likes me to be there before and after.”

  So his mother was dependent on him, not the other way around. That gave Bailey a surprising sense of relief.

  Garrett continued. “I heard the door start to open, but she didn’t come in. Then I heard a bunch of footsteps walking quickly away, and I knew something was wrong.”

  The abductors had waited somewhere in the back of the theater. “Did you get a look at either of them?”

  Garrett nodded. “After I followed them outside and they got in the car, I saw the man in the backseat. He was older, maybe fifty or so, with a wide, squarish face and flat nose. Like he might be part Alaskan Indian.”

  Clearly not either of the tech CEOs she’d questioned. But the megalomaniac who’d plotted the kidnappings obviously hadn’t acted alone. “Would you recognize him if you saw him again?”

  “I think so.” Garrett reached over and grabbed her hand. “I’ll look at all the mug shots you want. Whatever I can do.”

  His touch startled her, and she stared at the physical connection, liking it. “Go into your dad’s field office. They’ll set you up to do that.” She handed him her card. “Report to me if you find him.”

  “I will.”

  Bailey studied his face, looking for signs of deceptiveness, and found none. Weakness, yes. He was emotional and eager to please. “Did anything unusual happen in your mother’s life in the last week?”

  He hesitated. “I’ve been thinking about that since the other agent asked me. She was in a strange mood last Thursday and asked me, hypothetically, if I would be okay here on my own if she took a job somewhere else for a while.” Garrett gave a shy smile. “I said I’d be fine, of course. She tells herself I’m dependent on her, but I think she needs me more.”

  She could understand why. This young man was likable. “Did you ask her about the job? Do you think she was considering a position somewhere?” That would fit with her theory that Milton Thurgood, the Australian scientist, had been recruited and sworn to silence.

  “All she said was that sometimes she wondered if she should work for a corporation instead of the university and finally make some real money.”

  “No mention of a business name or location?”

  “Just Silicon Valley.”

  It didn’t fit her theory that they were keeping the scientists here in Washington State. But she’d learned that Celltronics had tried to recruit Nick Bowman. Maybe its CEO had offered Dana Thorpe a job too. But their research was in demand, so maybe they’d both received multiple job offers. Then the megalomaniac had simply taken a shortcut and kidnapped them. Bailey stood, pulling her eyes away from Garrett’s. “I’d like to look around, then glance through your mother’s email.”

  Garrett’s jaw tightened. “My father has her computer. He’s been snooping in everything.”

  Was Dana Thorpe’s connection to an FBI agent relevant? Bailey didn’t think so, but she had to consider everything. “Show me Dana’s office.”

  “Sure.” Garrett led her upstairs.

  Bailey didn’t intend to spend much time here. The agents on the scene had scoured everything and filed their report with her boss, as ordered. They were waiting for a ransom or demand call because they didn’t know what else to do. The unsub wouldn’t make any demands of the family, because he already had what he wanted. It was up to her to find the research lab where he was keeping the scientists and hoping for a breakthrough. She had a long night ahead, searching online for businesses in the area. This case kept expanding and jumping around geographically, so she hadn’t kept up with the background work needed. She hated to ask for help, but it was time to get a data person involved. She’d make the call before she left this house.

  She and Garrett entered a cluttered room with a high sloped ceiling. How did anyone work in this mess? Photos on the wall caught her eye. Bailey stepped toward them. Dana Thorpe was featured in most, often receiving some kind of award. She was small, dark haired, and pretty, looking younger than her forty
-five years.

  A search of the papers on the desk produced nothing but personal bills and news articles. There was nothing of interest in the drawers either. Garrett stood in the doorway behind her, watching. Normally, that would have bothered her and she would have asked the resident to leave her alone to work, but she didn’t mind his attention. After twenty minutes, she gave up the search. She would get Dana’s laptop from Agent Thorpe and take it with her. She needed to get away from the other FBI people, and Garrett, to focus on her tasks.

  “I’m done here.” Bailey turned toward the door, but he didn’t move out of her way.

  “You’re smarter than they are,” he said. “I can tell. And I want to know what’s going on. Who has my mother and why did they take her?”

  “It’s only a theory and I can’t share it yet.”

  He still didn’t move.

  Bailey stepped closer, wanting to inhale his scent. “Step out of my way and let me do my job.”

  He locked eyes with her. “Keep me informed, please. And let me help if I can.”

  “I will.” She pulled in a long breath. He smelled like a cyclist, with hints of sweat, rain, and nylon fabric. Oddly intoxicating.

  Garrett finally moved and she brushed by, her arm making contact with his chest. A jolt of pleasure. Bailey suppressed a smile. It had been a long time.

  Downstairs, she approached Agent Thorpe, who was still on the couch. “I need Dana’s laptop.”

  “I’m not finished with it.” The man glanced up briefly, then went back to staring at the computer in his lap.

  “I have seniority in this investigation. I thought you understood that.”

  Agent Nelson came in from the kitchen. A thin older woman with deep lines around her eyes. She turned to Bailey. “What’s your working theory?”

  “The unsub needs Dana Thorpe to accelerate her research. If she cooperates, she might live long enough for me to find her.”

  “You don’t think he’ll contact the family?”

  “No.” Bailey grabbed the laptop from Thorpe and slipped it into the shoulder bag she always wore strapped across her chest. She disliked the special agent because he intimidated his son, so she kept her eyes on Nelson. “Please keep me informed of any developments. You have my number.” Bailey headed out.

  On the street, she turned left and walked half a block, not seeing her rental car, then realized her mistake. Oh hell. Wrong direction. She turned and heard footsteps. Someone was running at her from a dark vehicle parked on the street. Bailey reached for her weapon, but strong hands grabbed her arms from behind.

  CHAPTER 15

  Garrett watched Agent Bailey walk out the front door, disappointed that she didn’t glance back. So intense, so sexy. He’d never been so attracted to a woman so quickly. He’d always liked women who were older—the gorgeous grifter he’d fallen for in high school had been twenty-three to his sixteen—but Bailey was a new extreme. She had to be in her midthirties. Impulsively, he followed her out of the house. He’d overheard her say that his mother might live if she cooperated with her abductors. The agent knew who’d taken Dana.

  Outside, the air was cold and damp, but he barely noticed. He glanced left into the darkness, expecting to see her walking toward the corner, where there might be an extra parking space, but no one was on the sidewalk. Footsteps thudded in the other direction. A heavy, fast-moving person. Garrett pivoted toward the sound. A half block away, a dark shape charged toward a woman on the sidewalk. She seemed to sense the attacker and spun around. In the faint glow of a nearby streetlight, he recognized Bailey. Before Garrett could think or call out, another man had come from behind a shrub and lunged at Bailey, pinning her arms behind her.

  Garrett charged across the lawn toward the struggling bodies, not knowing what he would do. He remembered the gun-carrying agents in the house. He shouted for help as loud as he could. Both assailants looked up. The closer one brought up a gun.

  Oh shit! Garrett jumped behind a parked car. In midair he heard a shot ring out and felt a searing flare of pain in his arm. As he hit the ground, a second bullet slammed into the car with a crunch. He’d been hit! And they were still shooting! Dear god. He’d survived being struck by a speeding car, only to die here in the gutter in front of the house he’d grown up in.

  Someone shouted, and the attacker loosened his grip. Bailey jerked both arms up, breaking his hold, then lunged for the grass to her right and rolled, finding her weapon as she came up on her knees. The sound of gunfire exploded. On the sidewalk, the man who’d charged at her from the street was firing at a shape diving behind a car a half block away. Garrett? She heard him cry out as he hit the street. She brought up her weapon and aimed at the shooter’s head, but as she pulled the trigger, a boot smashed into her ear. The blow knocked her sideways, and she knew she’d missed her target. Pain seared in her temple, enraging her.

  Bailey pushed to her feet and spun toward her assailant, her weapon aimed at his torso six feet away. She pressed the trigger but nothing happened. Shit! Her Glock was jammed.

  The man, who appeared to be unarmed, sprinted for the SUV. The sidewalk shooter had already reached the vehicle and was climbing into the driver’s seat. Bailey slid open the Glock’s chamber and reloaded the cartridge. The car’s engine roared as it took off. She brought up her weapon and fired at the back of the rig. The glass shattered, but the vehicle raced away. Where the hell was her car?

  A door slammed shut. Dizzy and freaked out, Garrett stayed on the ground. An engine roared, and a big vehicle rushed toward him on the street. Garrett belly-crawled partway under the car he’d taken refuge behind. Bullets coming from several directions thunked into the back of the SUV as it raced down the street.

  Holy hell! This was crazy. He eased out from under the car and glanced at the back of his upper arm. Blood seeped from under the sleeve of his T-shirt. Seeing it made the pain real again. But it didn’t matter. All he could think about was Agent Bailey. Was she still alive?

  Except for the voices on the porch, the night was suddenly quiet. No more guns. He clambered to his feet and hurried around the car. Bailey was running toward him on the sidewalk, blood oozing down the side of her face. Had she been shot in the head? “Do you need an ambulance?” he called out.

  “No. I’m fine.” She sounded so calm. As she reached him, she stopped. “What about you? You’re bleeding.”

  He rotated his arm at the shoulder. “I think it’s just a scrape.”

  “Good. I’m going after them.” She took off running.

  His father was suddenly there, a gun in his hand. “Everyone okay?”

  Without bothering to answer, Garrett bolted down the sidewalk after Bailey, ignoring the pain and his distrust of the prosthesis. If she was going after the people who’d taken his mother, so was he. Her car had to be near the corner, as he’d expected.

  Garrett caught up as she reached it. As she hopped into the driver’s seat, he charged toward the passenger door and climbed in just as she started the engine.

  “No!” she yelled, without looking at him. “Get out.”

  Garrett didn’t budge. “Let’s go! They’re getting away.”

  “Oh hell.” She slammed the car into gear and gunned it into the street. “Did you see where they went?”

  “No, but the only way out of this neighborhood headed this way is Queen Anne to Highland or Mercer.”

  “Left or right?” she shouted.

  “Right at the corner, then right again in two blocks.” He barely recognized his own voice, so he pulled air into his lungs, trying to calm his pounding heart. “We have to get them alive. If they die, we’ll never find my mother.”

  “I know that, but the Seattle police don’t. I’m sure someone in the neighborhood reported the gunfire.”

  Bailey still sounded calm, as if unaffected by her near-death experience, but Garrett’s
mind was spinning, and his heart felt like it would burst through his chest. The thought of the cops chasing down these guys freaked him out. Cops operated in shoot-to-kill mode. God knew he wanted those bastards dead, but they might be the only link to his mother’s location.

  Garrett glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see his father’s car behind them. But no headlights appeared. They were already racing through the neighborhood at a speed that terrified him, but he clenched his jaw and held on to the oh-shit bar. They had to get to the kidnappers before the police did.

  Bailey loved the thrill of the physical chase! Lacking normal fear, she craved high-intensity situations, but rarely experienced them anymore. Adrenaline shot through her veins, making her body hum with pleasure. The young man in the car also excited her. She hated to admit it, but by following her and shouting for help, he might have saved her life. Knowing that only drew her to him more strongly. She would have expected the opposite effect. Intellectually, she understood the concept of gratitude—just as she understood empathy and regret—but she didn’t usually experience those emotions unless she focused and made herself feel them. Most of the time, there was no payoff, and her mind quickly turned to something else. But she was feeling something intense toward Garrett now.

  She careened the car around the corner, tires squealing. Taillights appeared at an intersection in the distance. Yes! She had the shooters in sight.

  “There they are!” Garrett shouted.

  The SUV continued through the intersection and stayed in sight. Bailey floored it and raced after them, shooting past quiet homes on the dark street. The two men were obviously amateurs. If her gun had worked properly, the tall shooter would be dead, and the one who attacked her would be in custody, telling her where to find Dana Thorpe. Logic told her they were both hired hands. The mastermind behind the kidnapping-for-research scheme was some tech CEO who was unlikely to get his hands dirty unless he was pushed into a corner. But she was about to push him there. Even sooner than she’d expected. Don’t let your ego get in your way. Her father’s voice echoed in her head. He’d coached her from an early age about how to handle herself and not let her peculiar mind land her in jail or the morgue.