He’d paid the bill, said his goodbye—promising to do it again sometime soon—and went to work on his phone as he raced out of the restaurant, nearly getting knocked over by some guy not paying attention, and raced across town. He sat in the backseat of his Escalade with his knee bouncing as his driver rushed him to the studio, flutters of anxiety rolling across his wine-filled belly as he got his team in place. He managed to do it in record time and, for Daniels, it wasn’t so much about finding the girl as it was being the first to report her missing.
Breaking headlines was gold in an industry whose audience’s attention span was short-lived. Moments like these were the reason he got paid the big bucks. As far as he was concerned, Jenny Booth’s disappearance was all his.
As soon as he arrived to the office, Daniels moved through the studio’s halls and entered the production control room where his team was on standby. Standing in the back, perched high above his associates, he checked the time ticking down on a digital display clock on the wall above them.
“Two minutes, people,” he clapped his hands, “Two minutes.”
His muscles were tense. He was silently worried a competing station would beat him to the story. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened, and he kept flicking his gaze between the screens, watching live as Heidi got set up to interview Ruth Booth at her home. It was impossible to say who else knew, but it didn’t matter—they had the exclusive which was about to be aired live.
Satisfied with Heidi’s quick deployment of resources to bring Ruth to the studio, Daniels couldn’t relax. His team had yet to locate Eva Martin, the young woman Susan said escaped her kidnapper’s grip. That was the story he really wanted. A mother’s plea to bring her daughter home was good, but the chance to relive the terror of what a person experienced was money. He would do anything to find her and have that interview added to his portfolio. He thought he might just know how to get it, too.
The floor manager glanced back at Daniels, and Daniels called him over.
“Any word on the second interview?” he asked.
The manager shook his head. “Our team is ready to go as soon as we can locate her.”
“Good,” Daniels said. “Make sure they ambush her as soon as she shows.”
A call came in on his cell. Daniels sent his manager away and stepped into a dark corner of the room before answering. “Please tell me you found her.”
The caller said, “She’s not there.”
“Are you sure?”
“Sorry to disappoint, but I’m telling you she’s not there.”
Daniels stopped pacing, rolled his sleeves up. Susan’s perfumed scent clung to his clothes and reminded him of yet another conquest he’d set out to win. That one would have to wait. He was sorry for having to end their date so soon, but she understood. He liked understanding women—women who submitted to his powers.
“How can a body just disappear like that?” he asked.
When his question was met by a wall of silence, he let his thoughts fill his ears. Was this the story, or was there something better? The medical examiner’s office loses body at morgue. The headline was catchy, but there had to be another angle. Daniels thought about the slant, about the people who knew the truth. Someone was going to learn of this, and then what? He glanced to the TV screen, thought about the story he had, and then asked, “Are you sure it just hasn’t been misidentified?”
“I was thorough in my research,” the caller said. “There is no record it was ever checked in.”
Daniels lowered his gaze and pushed his fingers through his hair. The room went silent. When he lifted his gaze, Heidi Mitchell’s interview began on the flat screen and Daniels listened as Ruth Booth pleaded for her daughter to come home.
“Jenny, if you’re out there listening, please come home. I love you and miss you. Please, honey. Come home.”
The gruff voice rustled through the phone line. “Sir, what would you like me to do?”
Daniels stared at Mrs. Booth and thought about the implications of what might happen if he let this go. Eventually the story would get out and someone would claim to know the truth. Could he afford to let that happen? He wasn’t confident he could.
Daniels changed the subject and said, “We’ll deal with this later. What about that other girl, Eva Martin? Have you been able to locate her? And please don’t tell me where she lives, because I already know that.”
“Funny you ask. I have located her.”
Daniels kept one ear on his phone and the other on Heidi. “You have?”
“She was just here at the morgue, and you’re not going to believe who she was with.” A quick pause didn’t give him a chance to speculate. “Samantha Bell.”
Daniels’s eyes popped. “Bell? You mean to tell me Bell’s going to break this story first?”
“I’m not so sure that’s the case.”
He needed to stop her. Couldn’t allow this to happen. The pieces were falling into place—Susan’s information had come straight from Samantha, a rival. He should have kept Susan closer to get ahead of the competition.
He asked, “Well, did you follow them?”
The caller said, “They are keeping her at Erin Tate’s house in the Highlands.”
The caller gave Daniels the address in the Highlands, and he snapped his fingers to a nearby sound engineer. Requesting a pen, he wrote down the details and said, “Great. Anything else?”
“Actually, yes.”
Daniels’s expression pinched. “What?”
“Call Heidi and have her ask Ruth if she knew her daughter was sleeping with an older man.”
“Are you serious?” Excited by the possibility of a scandal, higher ratings than what he already knew he was going to get, he was concerned there might not be enough time to relay this new request to Heidi. “Do you have a name?”
The caller shared the name with Daniels and said, “She’ll know who it is and when she confirms the name, you can tell her that’s who took her daughter.”
Chapter Forty-Seven
Was it possible his protected source actually knew who took Jenny Booth? Daniels had no reason to doubt him, but could he trust him to keep it confidential? He knew his source was good, but if they kept this new information a secret and the police found out about it, Daniels could be considered an accomplice and possibly charged with obstructing justice. Maybe several other crimes he didn’t want to face.
Palming his cellphone, he headed toward the exit.
“Sir, where are you going?”
Daniels pushed through the doors, ignoring the calls for him to return, and exited the control room to debate his options. He was walking on thin ice. Though he knew what he wanted to do, Daniels also didn’t want to push his luck beyond what he could easily reel back in if, or when, things went astray.
He lengthened his stride, liking what Heidi was able to achieve in her interview with Ruth. He decided to keep this new information quiet, wanting to milk the story for all it had before headlines inevitably died down. Only then would he reveal the secret to the authorities, telling them he needed to verify his source’s information before deciding if it was true or not. It was a story he could convincingly tell if need be. Daniels had years of experience skewing the truth, diverting attention away from himself, and requesting favors when strings needed to be pulled.
Entering his office, he sat behind his desk and reached for the TV clicker. Pointing it at the flat screen on the wall, he replayed Heidi’s interview. He listened to Ruth’s answers. Each response had a fresh perspective from what he heard before now that a possible suspect had been named in her daughter’s disappearance.
He paused the video, picked up his desk phone, and made the call to the medical examiner’s officer. The line rang as doubt swirled in his gut. A woman’s voice answered and he said, “Public relations office, please.”
“Just one second.” He was put on hold.
With his elbows on his desk, Daniels’s thoughts drifted to Samant
ha Bell. He was fortunate she worked in print. It could never be as quick as TV—even with the internet. That had him wondering how he could present an offer to Bell and have them work together on this—have her share what she knew about Eva. But that would mean having to give up his source, which he could never do.
The line clicked over and the public relations clerk introduced herself and asked, “How can I help you?”
Daniels asked about the Jane Doe, if they had been able to identify her yet, and if they would be willing to go on record to make a televised statement when the woman interrupted him by saying, “I don’t know where you are getting your information from, but you’re the third reporter today suggesting we have something we don’t.”
Daniels pulled back and dropped his elbows to his sides. Feeling slightly lightheaded, he politely ended the call and set the phone back on his desk. Then he picked up Susan’s business card when he made the decision to call his source back—this time using his personal cellphone to make the call.
As soon as his source answered, Daniels said, “Don’t let Eva out of your sight.”
“You got it boss.”
As soon as he ended the call, his secretary buzzed his desk. Daniels answered. The secretary said, “Heidi is in the building.”
Daniels sprang to his feet and hurried out of his office, traveling down the hallway corridor and bursting into Heidi’s office. Slamming the door shut behind him, Heidi turned and faced him, her brow furrowed with a look of concern flashing over her eyes.
“You can’t just come in here without knocking,” she said.
Daniels closed the enormous gap between them in three giant strides and gazed into her bouncing eyes as he hovered over her. He watched her pulse tick hard in her neck before he lifted a single hand and closed his fingers around the soft tissue, feeling her nerves jump.
He said, “I just received a call from an anonymous source who claims they know who took Jenny.”
“What?” Heidi’s eyebrows knitted. “How? The story just aired.”
Heat from her neck seared the tips of his fingers as Daniels shrugged. Hooking the tip of his finger around the collar of her shirt, he popped the top button free.
“Well, who is it?” she asked.
Daniels tilted his head and smirked. Reaching his hand behind him, he retrieved the paper with the suspect’s name written on it. Holding the slip of paper in front of her eyes, Heidi swiped for it and missed.
“Not until you give me a little something for my effort,” he said.
Heidi cocked out her hip and gave him a look. Crossing her arms, she raised a single eyebrow. When Daniels went in for a kiss, Heidi quickly looked away.
“I can’t keep doing this. People are beginning to talk,” Heidi said.
“Who? I’d like to know their names.”
Heidi couldn’t look him in the eye.
A surge of anger ripped through Daniels’s body and he took her by the face and turned her head. He could feel her pulse racing. “Owen—”
Fisting her hair, he locked eyes and said, “I gave you a career. I’m about to make you famous. Or is there someone more deserving?”
Heidi hooked her hands on his flexed forearms and forced herself to relax. “You didn’t let me finish. I didn’t say this can’t happen; it just can’t happen here.” She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his.
Satisfied, Daniels pushed the slip of paper into her hand. Then he stood back and headed for the door.
Heidi read the name and looked up. “Nicholas Bennett? Who is he?”
Daniels stopped and glanced over his shoulder. “Allegedly, he’s the older man Jenny was sleeping with.”
Chapter Forty-Eight
Jenny struggled to open her eyes. Her gummy eyelids refused to open, and the florescent light made it too bright to see anyway. Turning her head, she rolled onto her opposite side and faced the wall. Her cheek peeled off the floor as she extended her arms and sat up, wiping the drool from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.
Rubbing her eyes awake, Jenny felt drowsy, like she might have been drugged. She wondered how long she’d slept, what time it was, and if it was a new day. As desperately as she wanted to keep track, it was impossible. Time stopped the moment she was kidnapped, and the windowless room erased day and night, blending them together into a seemingly endless moment without the promise of tomorrow.
Sitting against the wall, Jenny pulled her knees to her chest and ignored the hunger pains cramping her sides. She’d been dreaming, but couldn’t remember what about. Soon her thoughts rolled to the person who had taken her.
Who was this man holding her captive and threatening her to keep quiet? His scent and build were completely unfamiliar. She couldn’t place his identity through his clear Halloween mask no matter how hard she tried. He gave few clues to who he was, and that bothered Jenny most. She didn’t like surprises.
The light flickered overhead and she shifted her attention to the pile of pictures she’d torn from the wall and tossed into the corner, wishing to burn them all. She didn’t want to see them, didn’t need them to remind her of her situation. She’d kept only one—the picture of her with Naomi.
Her thoughts drifted in and out likes waves lapping against the shore. She wondered if Naomi sent the photo to Dylan. She wanted to be witness to what happened next—if she and Dylan would get together because of it. She wondered what Dylan would send Naomi in return. Soon, her eyes stung with tears pooling in the corners. She feared that sex was what brought her here, like some kind of unspoken punishment for something she’d done but couldn’t explain.
Extending her fingertips, she reached for Naomi’s picture. Holding it in her hand, she stared into the photo, wanting to be in Mr. Helton’s class and sitting next to her best friend. A math test didn’t seem so bad now. Mr. Helton’s parting words at Burger King rang loud and clear inside Jenny’s head.
“Remember, you have more say than you realize.”
Jenny knew exactly what he meant. It was the exact motivation she needed to hear to get her to believe in herself. She had a say in her future, a say in how she would survive this ordeal. Even if she felt impossibly powerless now, it was important she remembered she always had a say to fight—and fight she would.
Rolling her neck, she stared at the wall where she’d last heard Megan’s whispers. A sense of regret pulled her face down to the floor. When she pressed an ear to the cold wall, a chill lifted the hairs on her neck.
It had been quiet for so long, she wondered if Megan was still there. She could feel the fear buzzing between the studs as she rested her hand on the sheetrock. She wanted badly to call out to Megan, to see if she was all right. But Jenny wasn’t sure if her abductor was inside the house or not, and it was too risky to try.
Inspired by Mr. Helton’s words to be the one to hold the power, she started with a gentle tap. Slowly, the tap grew louder and soon Jenny surprised herself by saying, “Megan? Are you there?”
Megan didn’t answer. She asked again, this time a bit louder, but again she heard nothing.
That worried Jenny. Something bad happened. She’d heard the walls explode and the sounds of muffled screams echo out the last time they talked—the time she thought He was coming for her. Was Megan hurt? Why wasn’t she answering? Did He take her somewhere else? Was Jenny all alone now? What was going to happen to her?
“Megan. Please. Just tap the wall to let me know you’re okay.” Jenny’s voice cracked in her dry throat. “Did he hurt you?”
“She’s gone,” a new voice said.
Jenny’s breath hitched. Who was that? Another girl? Or was it her captor?
Again, another new voice said, “I heard him leave with her.”
“Are we alone?” a third voice answered.
Suddenly, the house came alive and Jenny couldn’t believe her ears. Standing, a burst of optimism had her believing that she might actually make it out alive. “We’re not alone. We’re together,” J
enny said.
“How many of us are there?”
Jenny said, “Call out your names. I’ll start. Jenny.”
“Lucy.”
“Nicole.”
“Sage.”
They waited until the names stopped. Then Jenny said, “There are four of us.”
“They took Megan. He heard her plan to escape and took her.”
“Who is He?”
Everyone had their guesses, but no one knew for sure when their conversation was interrupted by a shrill screech, quickly followed by an earth-shattering scream.
Jumping into the corner, Jenny listened for movement in the house. She couldn’t be sure it was Him. Her limbs shook with terror as she waited for the silence to break.
“Shut up!” a new voice Jenny had never heard said. “He’s listening, and he’ll kill us all if you don’t shut up now.”
With her heart hammering inside her chest, Jenny wondered how many others there were inside the house who were too scared to talk. More than she wanted to believe.
Sliding down the wall, Jenny tucked herself into a ball and felt her sense of optimism deflate as quickly as it had come. What was she going to do? How could she escape? She didn’t have an answer to her questions.
“It doesn’t matter.” a familiar voice said. “After what he did to me, I’m already dead.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
King arrived before I even turned off my car. As soon as I stepped out, I heard Cooper in the window barking his silly head off. The grass clippings clung to my shoes as I stomped over it and met King at his car. He shut the door and, one look in my direction, he knew he had me. It was all it took when I was feeling stressed.
“I missed you,” I said, reaching for his hand.
Threading his fingers through mine, King said, “This case is consuming my life.”
MAD AS BELL Page 12
