Sweet Seduction Shield

by Nicola Claire

  I found myself responding to the moment, relaxing, bit by glorious bit.

  Ryan did this to me. We could be standing in the middle of a tornado, and if Ryan came close, the winds all stilled.

  Ryan calmed my storm.

  "Pierce," came his partner's voice through the line. Deep and gravelly, but clear despite the cellphone being pressed to Ryan's ear, and not mine. I thought I detected a note of weariness in his voice. But one word could hardly divulge so much.

  "We're meeting with the Crown Prosecutor tomorrow," Ryan said, voice still soft. He wasn't hiding his relaxed state from his old friend, he let Harvey hear the contentment in his words.

  "Oh, is that right?" I waited for the judgement, for the self-righteous condemnation he'd given at Ben and Abi's house. But he seemed distracted, and simply said, "What time?"

  "Eight tomorrow. Nick's on security, but if you could meet us at the District Court by nine, that would be good."

  "No problem." The words were clipped. "What did you get on McLaren in the end?"

  "Not just McLaren," Ryan replied, a little excitement showing through his words. "A wealth of information on shipments, payments, debts. Photographic evidence that will tear McLaren's world so far apart, he'll never be able to put it together again."

  There was a long, drawn-out sigh on the other end of the phone.

  Then,"Fuck. You found the ledger."

  Ryan stiffened. Just slightly. "You knew about the ledger?"

  "Talks been rife about it on radar. Church, that tattooed freak that chased your mark down, he's been all over the fucking thing asking about it."

  "Her name's Marie, Harvey. Use it."

  "She started out as your mark. It's not my fucking fault you got involved."

  The words were harsh, angry. Full of that condemnation I'd expected before.

  Then he added, "And you weren't supposed to fall for her, you bastard." Those words were almost pained.

  Ryan sat up, pulling the phone away from where I could hear. I followed him, sitting face to face, taking in the look of uncertainty and confusion, and dear God, was that a little fear?

  "What are you talking about?" Ryan asked, his eyes locked on mine, but no longer seeing.

  I think that was the most frightful thing of all. Ryan always saw. Always watched. Now he just stared blankly, retreating into a shell of the man I love.

  "You took her to your fucking dead mother's house, didn't you?"

  I heard every anger-filled word. It didn't matter that Ryan had the phone pressed to his ear and nowhere near mine, Harvey was so agitated by now, he was yelling.

  "Harvey?" Ryan pressed.

  "You never go there. You almost had me on that one. Not in a million fucking years did I think you'd go there. I gave it up, because there was no fucking way Ryan Pierce would go to his dead birth mother's house. No fucking way!"

  "Stone, you're not making any sense."

  But he was, wasn't he? He was making complete and utter sense. Detective Harvey Stone was the mole. The leak.

  "I had no choice!" Harvey yelled. "I had to give them something. And the best I could come up with was that house. Jesus, Pierce! You go practically catatonic when you have to drive near it. Whangaparaoa Peninsula is a dead zone to you. And you took her there. It's not my fucking fault!"

  "What the fuck have you done?" Ryan's voice was one I had never heard before. Dark, threatening, lethal.

  I heard muffled sounds down the other end of the line, as though Harvey was on the move.

  "You weren't supposed to be there."

  "You've already said that. What the fuck have you done, Stone?"

  "I had no choice."

  "To hell with your choices. WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE!"

  "You had Nick!" Harvey yelled back. "ASI security. There was no way he could get through that!"

  "Who?!"

  "I tried," Harvey almost whined. It sounded desperate. It sounded like a man teetering on the edge of a cliff, about to choose to take that next step off. "I held out as long as I could. I misdirected. I did everything I could think of to give you time to catch him first. But he said he'd kill them."

  "Who said? What the fuck, Stone?!"

  I could hardly breathe. I felt trapped by the wretched words pouring from Ryan's phone. I felt frozen by the look of utter dread and dawning comprehension gracing his face. I felt sick enough I might just vomit.

  But I couldn't move. I had to keep listening. I had to know. And I think Ryan was the same. A morbid sense of fascination, a dark desire that would lead us into the abyss.

  "You got distracted," Harvey was saying, his words picking up speed now. "Its your fault. Not mine. How was I to know you couldn't keep your dick in your pants?"

  Oh dear God.

  "You fucking arsehole!" Ryan spat.

  "Fuck you, Pierce! I tried to warn you. Tried to get you to pull your head out of the fucking clouds and do your job. But you wouldn't listen. Fuck. You lied! Said she was just a casual coincidence. Said it wouldn't happen again."

  I felt an inch tall.

  "I lied? What the fucking hell have you done? What the fucking hell have you kept from me?" Ryan demanded, voice strained.

  "And then you took her there," Harvey went on, not even hearing Ryan anymore. In his own tortured moment, dragging us down with him into the dark. "Fuck! She must be a fucking awesome lay to get you to face your murdered mother's house like that."

  "You fucking leave my mother out of it! And don't talk about Marie like that!"

  "It's not my fault you've gone and lost your head over a fucking criminal bride!"

  Ryan's chest was heaving, his fists were clenched. Sweat had broken out across his forehead.

  "Just tell me," he pleaded. Another tone of voice I did not expect to hear from Ryan Pierce. "Just tell me, Harvey. What the hell is going on?"

  Silence. Just the sound of air rushing past the cellphone, giving the impression that Harvey was on the move, and moving fast.

  "I haven't dared to breathe for three days," Harvey said, so quietly I leaned forward and Ryan immediately put the phone on speaker so I could hear.

  The sound of air rushing past a window was louder this way, but Harvey's next words were crystal clear.

  "They sent me Caitlin's teddy bear."

  "Jesus," Ryan muttered, reaching for my hand instinctively.

  "Said it would be her finger next."

  Ryan closed his eyes, anger warring with agony over his face.

  "Said it would be easy to snatch her from pre-school. Take Sherry as well."

  "Why didn't you tell me?" Ryan said, eyes still closed.

  But Harvey wasn't capable of hearing any longer.

  "I did what I could, you gotta know that," he pleaded.

  "I don't know shit," Ryan replied, his voice a little hollow, the words almost said to himself. "You should have told me." His eyes opened and there was a depth of pain there, that I had only seen on his face when he talked of his birth mother's death.

  This was Ryan's worst nightmare. His close friend, his partner's family, going through something as harrowing as this.

  "I got Church," Harvey said, a horn blaring out in the distance over the line.

  Ryan's gaze flicked up to mine. He was breathing harshly, trying to contain his emotions. But they were written all over his clenched jaw; in the line of his tight, thin lips; in the shadows that haunted the brown of his eyes.

  "I couldn't get Andrews," Harvey added.

  Ryan blinked, sucked in a deep breath. His pulse thundered in his neck. I tried to count it. I couldn't keep up. It petrified me. My hand snaked out and wrapped around his wrist in an effort to feel his pulse there.

  "I'm sorry," Harvey said, the words almost lost to the sound of Ryan's and my breathing.

  "How long have we got?" Ryan asked, and there was a calmness there that chilled me to the bone.

  I didn't hear Harvey's reply. The freezing, icy lake I'd fallen into, upon hearing the first words of to
rment out of Harvey's mouth, swallowed me whole; drowned me. Panic seized my lungs, constricted my heart. My eyes darted to the doorway of the room.

  "Daisy," I said, the horror of only now realising the consequences of everything Harvey had divulged making my body tremble and my vision blur. I staggered from the bed, Ryan trying to keep me upright.

  I barely heard him say, "You are dead to me," as he swiped the phone closed.

  He held my eyes for a suspended moment, then urged, "Get Daisy. Now!"

  I stumbled on the way to the door, banged into an armchair, and then the dresser. Ryan righted me every time I faltered. His hand on my arm firm, as steel glinted in the low lights of the hallway, wrapped in the palm of his other hand.

  A gun.

  Why had I sat and listened to that phone call? Why hadn't gone for Daisy as soon as Harvey mentioned the ledger. A piece of evidence he shouldn't have known about yet. Ryan had never told him what I possessed. But then Harvey had been the leak, he'd told ex-detective Simon Andrews that we were retrieving something from the Birdcage. Of course he'd known what it was. Hell, Ryan had even guessed that the leak had come via ASI. And of course, Nick and his men trusted Harvey Stone, as much as Ryan had trusted him, until tonight.

  A cool breeze met my bare legs, froze the tears, I hadn't realised I'd shed, on my cheeks. My feet slapped on polished wooden floorboards, the sound of Ryan's harsh expletive rang out in my ears, joining the blood thundering through my veins inside my head.

  A hollowness started to expand inside me, chilling icy tendrils of absolute fear.

  Daisy's bed was empty.

  The window off to the side was open.

  My mind stalled. My breaths followed. But my heart? It bled, as I screamed, and Ryan caught my body when it fell towards the floor.

  Chapter 30

  And There Were No Sweeter Words

  "No. No. No. She can't be gone! No."

  "Marie."

  "No. No. No. Not Daisy. Not my Daisy-girl."

  "Marie!"

  "Daisy!" I cried, trying unsuccessfully to get to my feet. Something was holding me back, or holding me up. I couldn't tell. I fought it, jerked my shoulders free, offered a shove with the palms of my hands. "Daisy!" I shouted. "Where are you?!"

  "Marie! Tiger! Focus!"

  My eyes flicked to Ryan's, unexpected calm brown stared back at me.

  "I need you to stay with me, babe," he said, in a more level voice.

  I nodded, head and neck stiff, but my eyes locked on his.

  "It's only just happened," he pointed out. "You checked her less than half an hour ago."

  I nodded again, the movement more fluid.

  "They won't have gone far," he added. "I need to follow. Find a trail. Get her back."

  Another nod, a deep breath of air sucked in which seemed to dim the ache that had set up home inside my chest.

  "I'm calling Nick," Ryan murmured, hands still on both my upper arms. "Can you stand?"

  "Yes," I whispered. Ryan nodded.

  He pulled his cellphone out of the waistband of his trunks. He hadn't dressed. Like me, he was in the same clothes he'd worn to bed. He strode over to the window and looked outside, the phone to his ear.

  "Nick. Andrews has taken Daisy," he announced into the device, and hearing the words aloud broke what fragile hold I had on my heart. A sob tore from my lips, making Ryan swing back around and look at me.

  The moment his eyes found mine I could breathe. It hurt. Fuck, it still hurt though.

  "We can't wait that long," Ryan was saying, as he walked towards me and then herded me from the room, back towards ours. He picked up my jeans from the floor and handed them to me, while he found his own and began to get dressed.

  I slipped the denim over my frozen legs robotically. Glad for something to do with my trembling hands.

  "Harvey Stone was the leak," Ryan said, a weight of sorrow and shock mixed in with those words. "His family," he added, and had to clear his throat. "Can you check on them too?"

  My fingers struggled with the shoelaces on my sneakers, but I finally managed to do them up. I stood and faced Ryan, the emptiness inside consuming me, as he held the phone to his ear with his shoulder, and checked the chamber of his gun. He slid the weapon into a holster, attached to his belt. His police badge hung next to it. He lifted tired, but determined eyes to mine.

  "Just get here as fast as you can and I'll let you know what I find." The phone call ended and he stood facing me across the small room, a million miles away.

  "What now?" I asked, wringing my hands in front of my chest.

  "I want to ask you to stay here, lock the doors and windows, and wait for my call."

  I shook my head and took a step toward him, but he breached the gap and had one hand around the back of my neck, and the fingers of the other pressed into my lips, before I could open my mouth.

  "But I won't," he added. "Stay close. Do as I say. And don't make a sound."

  I nodded, my heart - what was left of it - in my throat, my breaths coming in short, frantic huffs.

  He led the way out of the bedroom and towards the front door. His large, hot, safe palm wrapped around my hand. The contact reassuring, when nothing should have been able to remove the doubt and fear. I was still panicked. Still one second away from full-on meltdown. But I trusted Ryan. I trusted him to get my daughter back, and while he did it, I wouldn't breakdown.

  There'd be time enough later. I sucked in a deep breath, squared my shoulders and lifted my chin. Hang in there, Daisy-girl. Mummy and Daddy are coming.

  He cracked the front door, his hand on his gun - still holstered at his hip - as he peered outside. The suburban street was eerily silent, yellow-orange street lamps provided a surreal illumination, making everything glow in an otherworldly light. Ryan glanced over his shoulder, made eye contact, held me up with that simple, but intense look.

  His eyes said all there needed to be said. We'll get her back.

  Mine said, I know, I trust you.

  He blinked, nodded his head, and then turned back and pushed through the door.

  Nothing came at us. Not a sound rang out on the still night air. The street stood in stasis like my heart; like my body it was encased in ice. But this was not my icy shield of confidence. This was black ice, dark and dreadful. Filled with fear.

  I hated it. I despised feeling this level of angst again. But I gripped it tightly, all the same, and used it to keep me going. To keep me standing. To keep me putting one foot in front of the other in front of the other. I had no shield of my own to call on. I leaned on Ryan, while I used that bleak, black ice to prop me up.

  Knowing it could shatter into a million pieces at any second.

  We rounded the side of the house to Daisy's window. Footprints embedded in the soil beneath the windowsill. Big, masculine boots. I couldn't hazard a shoe size, but I was betting they were ex-detective Simon Andrews' boots. Ryan crouched down and picked up some dirt between his fingers, rubbing it back and forth. Then turned and cocked his head at an angle, glancing across the dew covered front lawn.

  "There," he said, raising his dirt stained hand and pointing with a finger.

  I leaned down to his level, getting a clear line of sight at what he was indicating. More boot prints across the lawn, heading towards Gulf Harbour Drive.

  "He might have a car on the main road," Ryan suggested, pulling out his keys from his front jeans pocket and handing them to me. "You drive, while I follow his trail on foot."

  He wouldn't leave my side for second, coming with me to open the garage door and helping me into the car. Then he led the way back down the driveway, and onto the road. I followed at a snail's pace behind him, as he ran for a bit, then walked, then crouched down again, reaching out to touch the ground.

  It was taking too long. I wanted to push the accelerator down and go full speed along the street. But where to? If Andrews had a car, where had he taken my baby to? And if he didn't, what was he doing to her now? Was she scared? Of
course she was. Was she hurt?

  Oh dear God, please. I closed my eyes and hung my head down on the steering wheel, the engine reverberated through the car, slamming into my jumbled head.

  The passenger door opened, and Ryan slipped in, scaring the ever loving crap out of me. I squealed. The door slammed shut. His hand landed on my knee with a soft thud.

  "Breathe," he instructed, but didn't wait for my gasped breath of air. "He's taken her to the beach on foot."

  "Where's his car?"

  "Either there, or back up on Gulf Harbour Drive. But..." He hesitated, intent brown eyes staring right into my own. "Marie, he doesn't want Daisy. He wants the ledger." Ryan reached around the back of his shirt and pulled the blasted fucking book from the waistband of his jeans.

  I stared at the horrid thing. My stomach roiling, my heart clenching, my life - and Daisy's- flashing before my eyes. Without this ledger I had no deal with the Crown Prosecutor. My ticket to freedom would be gone.

  I lifted my eyes from the worn leather cover and stared directly into Ryan's understanding ones. There was no question. No need to think twice.

  "Let's go give it to him."

  Ryan nodded and indicated what way to go on the road, that would lead us to the beach at Okoromai Bay.

  I don't know how long Andrews had had Daisy, and he was clearly still on foot, taking the shortcuts through the reserves to get to Shakespear Regional Park, where Okoromai Bay was found. In contrast, we had to travel by car on the roads, making our route longer, despite the SUV taking the corners at high speed. But I was guessing he would still reach the beach before us, given his head start and lack of four wheels. I prayed Daisy was holding it together.

  Shit, I prayed Daisy was just alive and unharmed.

  Ryan reached forward and opened up the glove compartment in front of him, then keyed in a code on an electronic pad, making a little LED light blink red.

  "What's that?" I asked, needing something to concentrate on other than all the possible things this ex-cop could be doing to my child.

  "GPS. Nick will be tracking us now at ASI control."

  That was good. I nodded. Yeah, that would help. If we got to her in time and dealt with Andrews.

  Ryan squeezed my knee through my jeans.