by Elle James
Pruett held up his hands “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t even know you had a brother.”
Riley shoved the jacket into the man’s face. “Don’t lie to me. This is Toby’s jacket. Where is he?” Her hand and her voice shook with her rage.
Mack grabbed Pruett’s arm and yanked it up behind his back, pushing it high between his shoulder blades. “Are you going to tell us where the boy is, or am I going to have to hurt you?”
Riley wanted to be the one to inflict pain on her coworker. “Just tell us where he is and we’ll leave you alone.”
Pruett’s face screwed up in pain. “Ow, ow. You’re going to break my arm.” He danced up on his toes, trying to relieve the pressure on his arm.
“That’s not all I’m going to break.” Mack pushed the arm up higher.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll tell you what I know,” the man cried.
Mack backed off on the pressure but didn’t release the wrist he held behind Pruett’s back.
Riley crossed her arms over her chest, her heart pounding, her attention on the man standing in front of her. Finally, she’d find Toby.
Pruett looked at the jacket and glared. “Damned kid did nothing but cry.”
Riley reached out and slapped Pruett’s face. “Bastard! He was probably frightened out of his mind. Where is my brother?”
“I gave him to that woman.”
“What woman?” By this time, Riley was so frustrated she could have shaken Pruett until his teeth rattled. “Where is she?”
“At her home in the Arlington slums with her own brats. I should never have gotten involved in this. She said it would be easy money. All I had to do was take the kid. I didn’t know I’d be babysitting the brat.”
Grinding her back teeth, Riley fought to keep from pounding her fist into Pruett’s face. “What woman? Does she have a name?”
“Bridgett, the night cleaning woman.”
Riley’s head jerked up. “Bridgett? She had you take Toby?”
“She paid the loan shark to get him off my back. In return, all I had to do was get the kid and deliver him to her. She didn’t tell me I’d have to hold him overnight. I don’t even like kids.”
“Where does Bridgett live?” Riley asked, her tone tight, her fists tighter.
He rattled off the address and jerked his head toward Mack. “Now call off your Neanderthal.”
“I ought to let him break every bone in your body for kidnapping a little boy. You had no right to take him.”
“Good grief.” Pruett sneered. “It’s not like I hurt him or anything. I slipped through his window, picked him up while he was sleeping and left. It wasn’t until he woke up that he started screaming.”
Riley slammed her fist into Pruett’s gut, her anger making her see red. “I hope you rot in hell.” She strode past Mack and Pruett, rubbing her bruised knuckles. “Come on, Mack.”
“What do you want me to do with him?” he asked.
“Bring him. We can’t have him warning Bridgett.”
“We can drop him off with one of the guys,” Mack suggested.
“Yeah,” Riley agreed. “And once we find Toby, we’ll file charges and have him hauled off to jail.”
“She swore she wouldn’t hurt the boy,” Pruett said. “I wouldn’t have taken him otherwise.”
“Shut up,” Riley said without looking back at the man. “There’s no excuse for stealing a child from his home. None.”
“Why did she want him?” Mack asked.
“She said she was worried, and she was going to take him to a better place to live. I needed the money—she offered to pay off my debt. How was I to know he was related to Ms. Lansing?”
Riley didn’t slow as she pushed through the front door and out onto the porch. She couldn’t believe the man could be so callous about abducting a little boy. “It doesn’t matter who he was related to. You had no right to take him.” She dropped down off the porch and turned to Mack. “I’ll get the car.”
He nodded. “The keys are in the ignition.”
Riley jogged away, taking the road instead of cutting through the woods. Her heart hurt for Toby. The child had to be so confused and scared. She ran all the way back to her car, dived into the driver’s seat and pulled up to the house.
“Pruett and I will ride in the back seat, if you don’t mind driving,” Mack said. “I called Declan. He’s sending Gus to meet us at an exit close to where we’re going. He’ll take care of Pruett until we can find Toby.” Mack shoved Pruett into the back seat and slipped in beside him. “Make any stupid moves, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”
Pruett shook his head, rubbing his arm. “I’m done with all this. Find the kid so I can get on with my life.”
“Declan’s getting quite the collection going,” Riley muttered. “Does he have sufficient staff?” She met Mack’s gaze in the mirror.
Mack’s jaw tightened. “He’ll have to.”
Riley pulled away from the house, bumping along the gravel to the main road. As soon the tires hit pavement, she laid her foot to the accelerator and raced back to Arlington.
Within thirty minutes, she’d dropped Pruett with Gus, Mack had moved up to the passenger seat, and they’d driven to within a couple blocks of Bridgett’s house. As before, they parked two blocks away and walked the rest of the way to the address.
The building was a small cottage on a street full of similar small houses with peeling paint, sagging eaves and broken bicycles scattered across the small yards. Its windows had been blacked out, and no movement could be detected from within.
Riley and Mack circled the house, searching for any sign of occupancy. Finally, Riley shrugged, walked up to the front door and knocked.
A child’s cry sounded from inside.
Riley gripped the door handle, twisted the knob and pushed as hard as she could. The door was locked. She pulled her file from her back pocket and fit it in the keyhole. Her hands shaking, she worked to unlock the door, not knowing whether the child who’d cried had been Toby or one of the janitor’s. It didn’t matter. If there was even a small chance it was Toby, she had to get to him before anyone hurt him.
The lock clicked and the knob turned.
“Stay low.” Mack pushed past her, entering the residence, his handgun drawn.
Riley ducked down, hurried through the door and hugged the shadows. The lights had been turned off, but a dull glow came from a night-light close to the floor.
They entered a living area strewn with ragged blankets on the couches, battered toys littering the floor and dirty dishes lying on boxes used as end tables.
Nothing moved, and there was no sign of the people who’d created the mess.
Mack eased down a hallway, passing the entrance to a small, dirty kitchen with sippy cups, plastic plates with half-eaten dinners, and dirty pans scattered across the counter, as if someone had interrupted a family’s meal.
A door clicked shut in another room in the small house. The sound of a sob came from down the hallway.
Riley started in that direction, but Mack quickly passed her and reach the next doorway before she could.
Mack eased open the door to a small bedroom.
A gasp and a whimper made Riley peek over Mack’s shoulder.
Crowded in the corner, huddled close to the floor, were the janitorial aide, Bridgett, three small children and Toby.
“Toby!” Riley cried out, and pushed past Mack.
Her brother glanced up at her, his eyes wide, dark circles smudged beneath them. “Riley?” Tears slipped down his cheeks as he staggered to his feet and raced into her arms.
Riley scooped him up and hugged him close to her chest.
Mack stood over her, his gun pointed at the woman still huddled on the floor with the three small children.
“Please, don’t hurt
us,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “I didn’t want to do it. But they made me.” Her bottom lip trembled and her body shook with a silent sob.
“Do what? And who made you do it?” Mack asked.
“A woman and two men.” Bridgett clutched her children closer. “They said they’d turn me in for stealing supplies from Quest.”
“Why didn’t you tell someone?” Mack asked. “Surely they would’ve understood.”
“I was afraid. I didn’t want to go to jail. Even if I didn’t go to jail, they’d take my children away. My babies would have no one.” She buried her face in the dark hair of a pretty toddler who wore pink pajamas and had a smear of cheese across her cheek. “They would split my children up and send them to foster homes. My children would not know their siblings. I wouldn’t be there to protect them.”
Riley held Toby, listening to Bridgett’s story. She didn’t care. She had her brother in her embrace, and that was all that mattered.
Toby’s little arms wrapped around her neck in a stranglehold. After a long, hard hug, Riley pushed him to arm’s length and studied him from head to toe. She brushed a lock of his hair away from his forehead and gave him a watery smile. “Are you okay?”
He nodded and flung his arms around her neck again, holding tightly as if he would never let go.
Riley laughed, the sound catching on a sob. When she turned to look up at Mack, a shadow fell over the doorway. Her heart leaped into her throat. As she opened her mouth to scream, a hand swung out with a dark stick and hit Mack in the back of the head.
Mack staggered and dropped to his knees.
A large man in dark clothing and a dark ski mask stepped through the door and hit Mack in the head again.
Riley pushed Toby behind her and jumped to her feet. Before the man with a stick could hit Mack again, she kicked the man’s wrist, knocking the stick loose, sending it flying across the room.
As she cocked her leg to kick again, another figure entered the room also wearing dark clothes and a ski mask.
This man caught her around the waist and clamped a meaty hand over her mouth. She fought, elbowing him in the gut and stomping his instep, but the hand over her mouth also held a cloth with sweet-smelling perfume.
Within seconds, the fight leached out of Riley. Her muscles refused to cooperate, and she went limp in the man’s arms. Darkness consumed her. Her last sight was of Mack, lying motionless against the floor.
Chapter Thirteen
Mack fought the darkness, pushing through a gray haze to get to Riley. Every time he thought he’d make it, he slipped back into the abyss. Someone threatened Riley. She was in trouble. He couldn’t just lie there and let her be taken or harmed.
Again, he pushed through the thick gray cloud and blinked open his eyes. Gloom still surrounded him.
The murmur of voices let him know the dimness wasn’t from unconsciousness, but the lack of light in the room where he lay with his face on a hard surface.
“Mama, is the man dead?” a child’s voice asked.
“I don’t know,” a woman’s voice responded.
Then a soft hand brushed across his brow and reached down to touch the base of his throat. “He’s still alive,” she said. “Get my cell phone.”
The patter of bare little feet sounded on the floor, passing by Mack’s head. He could see the shadow of a very small child inching past him to the open doorway.
Mack shifted his hands beneath himself and pushed his body up to a sitting position. His vision blurred, and he nearly threw up.
“Mister, you should lie down until I can call an ambulance. You could have a brain or spine injury. Movement could make it worse.”
He turned his head to see the woman named Bridgett kneeling beside him. The movement made his head swim and his vision fade. Forcing himself to stay awake and alert, he moved his head more slowly, taking in the room, the bed, two very small children and the sound of another moving about the house.
“Where’s Riley?” he asked, his voice gravelly, his tongue feeling like he’d swallowed a wad of cotton. He frowned. “And Toby. Where’s the boy?”
Bridgett’s forehead wrinkled and her eyes filled. “They took Miss Lansing and the boy.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.” She wrung her hands.
“Why didn’t you try to stop them?” As soon as he said the words, he knew they were stupid and spoken in anger. Not anger at Bridgett, but at himself for not anticipating the attack or hearing their approach.
“They told me if I interfered, they’d kill me.” Bridgett held open her arms as the oldest of her daughters ran back into the room carrying a cell phone.
Bridgett wrapped the child in the curve of one arm while she took the cell phone in the other hand. “I’m calling for an ambulance and the police.”
“Don’t do it for me. I’ll be gone before they get here.” He bent forward, dragged his feet beneath himself and stood. As soon as he was upright, he swayed and staggered a few steps. He braced his hand against the wall and waited for the dizziness to pass.
“Sir, you should sit until the EMTs arrive,” Bridgett said. “You could have a concussion.”
“I can’t sit. The more time that passes, the farther away they will get with Riley and Toby.” He pulled his own cell phone out of his pocket and hit the number for Declan.
Declan answered after the first ring. “Mack, where are you?”
Mack touched the back of his head and winced. “I’m at the house of the woman who performs janitorial services at Quest. She had Riley’s brother. We were attacked, and now they have Riley and Toby. Get Jonah on that GPS tracker and find Riley. Did Pruett have anything else to say? Was his only contact Bridgett with the cleaning service?”
“He confessed to making the call to Riley so that she could hear her brother’s voice. But he swears he only ever had contact with Bridgett.”
“And do you believe him?” Mack asked.
“He sounded legit.” Declan chuckled. “And Gus might have scared him a little.”
Mack’s lips curled slightly as he imagined Gus getting in the overwrought engineer’s face. Then his jaw tightened. “We need the names of the people who forced Bridgett and Pruett to do what they did. More than that, I need directions to where they’ve taken Riley and the kid.”
“Working on that,” Declan said. “Jonah’s on it. As soon as he’s got her in his sights, we’ll feed you the information. He’s also been busy going through all the people Riley has had immediate contact with. We’re not getting much of anything.”
“What about the nanny?” Mack asked.
“We searched on her name and traced her back to where she lived next door to Riley’s home when she was growing up. Margaret Weems moved in at the same time as the Lansings. We didn’t find any other information on her previous residence. It was a dead end.”
Too many dead ends.
“I’m heading for the car. As soon as you get a bead on Riley, call.” He ended the call and glanced at Bridgett. “Are you going to be all right?”
She gathered her children around her and nodded. “I didn’t want to do it, but I’m going to my mother’s house in Raleigh tonight. I don’t feel safe here.”
“Good. In the meantime, lock your doors.”
Bridgett shook her head. “That didn’t do much good for me. You were able to get in.”
“True. Take what you need and leave as soon as possible.” He headed for the door.
Bridgett reached out and touched his arm. “Are you going to tell the management at Quest I took some of their supplies?”
“I’m not,” he said.
Bridgett drew in a deep breath. “I’ll purchase the toilet paper I took and return it. I can’t afford to lose my job over three rolls of toilet paper. I just couldn’t afford to buy any, what with the cost of child care t
aking most of my paycheck.”
Mack felt for the woman but couldn’t afford to stick around, not with Riley in danger. He dug in his pocket and pulled out a business card and a wad of cash. He pressed them into her hand. “Take the money, get the kids to a hotel room and call this number in a couple days. Mrs. Halverson might be able to help you.”
Bridgett pushed the money back at him. “I can’t take your money. I shouldn’t have taken the supplies. I’m responsible for my actions and my children. I’ll do what’s right.”
Mack curled her fingers around the money and card. “We all need a little help sometimes. Keep it.”
He didn’t give her the opportunity to hand it back a second time. Mack left her house and ran the two blocks to Riley’s vehicle. Once he was inside and had switched on the engine, his cell phone rang.
“We have her on the tracking program,” Declan said. “You’re on speaker with Jonah.”
“Give me the directions,” Mack said as he whipped the car out onto the road.
“Head into downtown DC.”
* * *
WATER SPLASHED ONTO her face brought Riley to consciousness. She snorted some up her nose and coughed. When she tried to raise her hands to push the wet hair out of her face, she couldn’t move her arms.
She looked down at where her wrists were duct-taped to the arms of a utilitarian metal office chair. For a moment, her brain couldn’t grasp what was happening. Her gaze shot around the room, taking in the concrete block walls of what appeared to be a basement lit by a single dull yellow light hanging by a cord from the ceiling.
Riley’s pulse skittered in her veins, and her gut knotted. She pulled at the tape binding her wrists to the chair.
“You didn’t think you could lie to us and get away with it, did you?” a deep male voice said from behind her.
A man circled her. He wore dark pants, a dark shirt and a fedora pulled low over the bridge of his nose. The minimal lighting cast a deep shadow over his face.
