by Marlow Kelly
Her pale face, the pinched expression around her eyes, and the tremor in her hand told him she wasn’t as unaffected as she seemed. She was right. He needed to be strong. This wasn’t about him; it was about saving his family.
“I apologize. That was uncalled for. What do you want me to do?”
“Let’s start by going over what we know.” She grabbed a large notepad and sat at Agent Morris’ desk, pen poised, ready to take notes. “Who has them?”
“The Syndicate.”
She scribbled the answer down. “What do they want?”
“Me, presumably.”
“Okay, so Finn and the police will put out an alert and investigate. We will follow your gut.”
He already felt better by taking action, and working toward a goal was doing something constructive to get them back. “We can make a trade—me for them.”
She shook her head. “There’s nothing to say they will keep their word. When I’ve done exchanges, it’s always been a straightforward purchase. The people I deal with value money above all else. Child Seekers buys the victims out of slavery. But this is different. They want you dead, and we know from their past with David and Tim they will kill anyone who threatens them.” She doodled a figure eight next to her questions and answers. “Does knowing about their existence threaten them?”
“It seems that way.”
“If that’s the case, your death won’t save anyone. They’ll just kill all of you. And by making an exchange, you’re playing right into their hands and giving them what they want. We need to be smarter. We need more information.”
Finn strode into his office, followed by Agent Morris. “I’ve received permission to keep both of you with me until we know more. The police will need to talk to you.”
Sinclair stood, vacating Agent Morris’ desk. “What information do they have so far?”
“Nothing you don’t already know. The state fire marshal and the police think this was an attack followed by arson. They also believe the fire was an attempt to kill your stepdad and dispose of his body. Unlucky for them and luckily for us, O’Connor has a hard head and regained consciousness in time to crawl out of the blaze.”
“He’ll need protection.” Michael was sorry he hadn’t escorted Milo to the hospital, but he couldn’t do anything there.
“Already done.” Finn slammed a file onto his desk.
“I need to call Lucy Portman.” Michael blurted out the demand before he’d had time to think about it, but as soon as he said the words, he knew it was the right call.
Finn stared at him, open-mouthed for a second, and then said, “There are other avenues we can pursue.”
Sinclair grabbed his elbow and swung him around to face her. “We just talked about this. If you hand yourself over, they will kill you.”
Finn was shouting at him as he slammed his fist on the desk, and he thought he could hear Agent Morris talking in the background, but he didn’t turn around to look at her. Instead, he held up his hands in a halt gesture, silencing everyone. “We need to play for time. We want them to think it’s in their best interest to keep my mom and sister alive.”
Finn took a deep breath and then nodded. “Okay, but we have to go over some instructions and, I’ll need to set up a recording so I can use this as evidence.”
He picked up his phone and dialed, presumably asking his headquarters in Salt Lake City to activate a recording on his office line.
While Finn was setting up, Michael fished his laptop out of his backpack. With a few clicks, he had Lucy’s cell phone number.
Finn disconnected and said, “You can make the call in a minute, but I need to give you some pointers first.”
Michael crossed the room so he was standing at Finn’s desk.
Finn kept his hand on the phone, guarding it. “This is a negotiation. You are playing for time. You can’t just call, demand your mom and sister be released, and expect her to comply. It’s not going to happen.”
Michael nodded. “Understood.”
“Most negotiators try and demonstrate empathy, but I—”
“It’s not gonna happen.” There was no way he could empathize with that vicious bitch.
Finn nodded his agreement, and then said, “This little trick might be useful. Let her correct you.”
“What?”
“Get a fact or detail wrong so she can correct you. When kidnappers correct the negotiator, they often share useful information.” Finn placed the phone on speaker and then pointed at him, signaling for him to dial. Michael locked his gaze with Sinclair. Their connection gave him strength. She answered with a slight nod. He dialed the number.
The ringtone buzzed until, “Hello.”
“This is Michael Papin.”
She drew in a long breath. “The famous Spider. Hacker extraordinaire, genius, and all-round bastard. I heard you lost your job when you infiltrated my husband’s organization. Marshall should have known better than to get involved with anything illegal.” A denial of Portman’s activities wasn’t a good start.
Michael continued, “I will exchange my life for my mom and sister.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She sounded confident and in control.
“I know you’re part of the Syndicate. If you don’t have them, then one of your colleagues does.”
She laughed, the tone hard and hollow. “You’re talking nonsense.”
“I swear, if you harm them, I will hunt you down and kill every last one of you.”
“I still don’t know—”
“I’ll call again,” he said, cutting her off.
Michael slammed his fist down on Finn’s desk.
“You did hear my instructions, didn’t you?” Finn snapped and then let out a long sigh.
He stared at the phone. He couldn’t answer.
“You didn’t get her to incriminate herself, but you did a great job getting yourself implicated if she’s ever murdered.” Finn’s voice was deadpan, giving nothing away. He’d already buried his frustration from a moment ago.
Michael put his hands on his hips and stared at the ceiling. Finally, he turned to Finn. “I know, but that shit doesn’t matter. I want my family back, and now she knows the score.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Ethan Moore stood with his back to the wall in Lucy’s office, using his KA-BAR knife to clean under his fingernails. It was an ineffective way to groom himself, and a stupid thing to do, but it sent a message to the two mercenaries, Ludlow and Kemp. He wanted them to know he was comfortable with his blade and was ready to use it.
The two of them were strutting around like they’d had a shootout with the Green Berets and won. When, in reality, they’d taken out a middle-aged man and abducted two unarmed women. They’d handed the women over to one of Lucy’s operatives, a weaselly man with short dark hair in an expensive suit.
There was no way Papin could’ve gotten there in time. Ethan had sped past his rusted-out pickup on the highway and arrived in time to watch the cabin go up in flames. And once again, he’d been unable to contact the Trainer.
Ethan sheathed his blade and resisted the urge to scrub his hands across his face. Damn it all, he should’ve gone with them to the cabin instead of using Marshall’s old computer on the fifth floor.
Since Marshall Portman’s death, Lucy had taken measures to make PDE in Granite City her corporate headquarters for her numerous legitimate and illegitimate operations. One of those measures included taking out the internal camera system on the top two floors and the one by the entrance at the back of the building. She wanted the hired help, like him, to be able to come and go without being recorded. Little did she realize it had also enabled Papin to sneak in here, unnoticed, and do whatever in the hell computer geeks did.
Lucy finished her call and smiled. “That was Michael Papin. He’s ready to make the exchange. I think I’ll let him stew for a while. They say the waiting is worse than the pain.”
She stared at Kemp, the older of
the two thugs. “Where did you put the two women?”
“We gave them to the guy from the hotel. Like you said.” Kemp almost bowed when he made that announcement.
“The hotel you mentioned before, on the east side?” Ethan asked. He was sticking his nose out, but he needed more info. If this was Syndicate business, Lucy might be forthcoming. He was, after all, the Syndicate’s enforcer.
She shrugged and shook her head, her smooth blond hair cascading about her face. “If you’d have managed to get to the cabin on time, I might be inclined to tell you.” She’d be a beautiful woman if she weren’t such a bitch.
Ethan patted his stomach, “Bad burrito, it could happen to anyone.”
She rolled her eyes and switched her gaze to Ludlow and Kemp, changing the subject. “I can’t believe you’ve had this much trouble snagging such easy targets.”
“’Cept the girlfriend wasn’t easy. She broke my hand.” Ludlow held up the offending appendage.
Lucy sighed. “And the other team were taken out by the family. These people—”
Ethan ground his teeth. He was out of patience. “You’re in Montana. It’s an open carry state. Everyone has a fucking gun and is trained to shoot.”
Lucy huffed and plunked herself down in her leather office chair. “We got the job done…in the end.” She sounded like a spoiled brat.
“Where are the mother and sister now?” He steered the conversation back to Papin’s women.
“At the hotel,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
“What’s the name of the hotel?” He was tempted to take his knife out of its sheath and slice her until she told him what he needed to know. He fisted his hands. He never allowed himself to lose his temper at work.
“I have a property on the east side of the city where I run an escort business,” she hedged, giving him information he already knew.
“Escorts?” Ethan forced a smile, hoping it looked genuine. He didn’t want Lucy to see his disgust. He wondered if the other members of the Syndicate were involved in Lucy’s “escort” business. Then a thought pinged in his head.
“Did you say the hotel was on the east side?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. “Is that why you had me stop those arsonists who were burning down their properties in that part of the city? Were they threatening your brothel?” His heartrate quickened. A month ago, he had robbed a bank so he could access a safety deposit box and hand the contents over to the police. He hadn’t known why the papers were important. He’d just followed, blindly. The fact that his orders had come directly from the Trainer meant the brothel was a Syndicate-sanctioned business.
Lucy smiled. “I have to say, I was impressed with the cleverness of your plan. The way you used the tunnels to escape was shear genius.”
He tried to look bored. “Are you still planning on using Papin’s women?”
“They’re good looking and they’re Native American, which is a niche market. I can sell them at auction, but it might not come to that. There are other members of the Syndicate who might be interested.”
He walked to the window and stared out over the city, considering everything she had told him. He spun back to face her. “I want them.”
Both Ludlow and Kemp snickered. Ethan ignored them.
He stalked across the room until he was face-to-face with her. “I’m taking them, and I’m going to use them to kill Papin.”
She stood and narrowed her eyes on him but didn’t give in to his demand.
He stepped back and shrugged, feigning indifference. “Of course, if you don’t need my services, I’ll just let the Trainer know that I’m available for reassignment.”
Her face twisted, changing her appearance from that of a beautiful woman into a vile caricature. “What’s wrong? Have you gone too long without knifing someone? Do you need your fix?”
“Yes.” He pinned her with a cold, dead gaze. He wasn’t lying. He wanted to slice her and use his blade to rid himself of all his rage and anger.
Something about him, maybe his stance or the look on his face, made Lucy take a step back. “You can take control, but I want Papin dead. You aren’t the only assassin on the payroll.”
“What’s the name of the place?” he demanded.
“They’re at the Sun Down Hotel. I don’t want them moved. They are a valuable commodity.” She sat in her expensive chair with her back straight and her head held high, once again in control. “As soon as Papin’s dead, I want them back. If you try to sell them out from under me, I will use the full force of the Syndicate to come after you.”
“You don’t have to worry. I won’t sell them. You have my word.” He inclined his head to one side in a gentlemanly gesture of agreement. He’d pushed her as far as she would go. He’d won, but knowing Lucy, she would probably eradicate him the next chance she got.
He strolled out of the room. It was obvious from his confrontation with Lucy that his time working for the Syndicate was coming to an end. But he couldn’t just walk away. The Syndicate had assets all over the globe, and they had the resources to hunt him down. He had to be prepared to disappear completely.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Finn Callaghan stared at the reports on his desk. The words blurred on the page. It was past midnight. He’d sent Kennedy to the hospital to interview Milo O’Connor.
He had the police report from the home invasion at Michael’s parents place, the attack on Sinclair, and the interim report on the kidnapping and arson at the cabin.
Interestingly, Tate hadn’t asked for details about the Syndicate, which in itself wasn’t necessarily suspicious. The captain had probably been sidetracked by the amount of cases Sinclair and Michael were involved in. Finn hadn’t connected the dots for Tate, but it didn’t take a genius to realize the same two people were the victims of three different attacks in less than twenty-four hours. Four if he included the burglary at Sinclair’s place of work. Between the two of them, they had escalated the crime rate in Granite City-Elkhead County to new levels.
All the felonies showed a deliberate intent to get Michael, but why now? And why would they be so brazen?
Finn could only think of two answers: either Michael had done something to attract their attention, or they were planning something big and didn’t want someone with Michael’s skillset to undermine them.
His friend sat at Kennedy’s desk, his laptop open as he tapped away at the keys. He could be investigating, but it struck Finn as classic blocking, which happened when someone, normally a suspect, would place objects between their person and the investigator in an effort to distance themselves from the discussion.
Sinclair sat on the couch at the far end of the office. Her elbow rested on the arm. Her head was supported by her hand and her eyes were closed. She seemed to be napping.
Under stress, the human body had three reactions: freeze, flight or fight. Her ability to save herself when faced with two assailants could only come with training and experience.
He fished his smartphone out of the pocket of his cargo pants and called David, Sinclair’s brother.
“What’s wrong?” David didn’t waste any time with niceties.
Finn was momentarily taken aback. Sinclair had answered the phone with exactly the same attitude the last time he’d called her. In a low tone, so as not to wake her, he relayed everything that had happened, leaving out the details of the investigation. But he did explain his suspicion that the Syndicate had come after his sister and then taken Michael’s family.
“Shit. How’re they doing?” David didn’t sound surprised.
“Michael’s keeping busy, working on something, which he’s going to share soon.” Finn raised his voice, making sure his tone was forceful.
Michael glanced up, nodded, and then continued tapping away at the keyboard.
“That’s a good coping strategy.” David, who had been shot in the face on a rescue mission, knew all about trauma. “And Sinclair?”
“She seems fine, but you know her
better than I do.” Even though he was trained to read body language, Sinclair had always been a closed book. She was contained and controlled. He had never seen her disassemble, which was impressive in itself. Non-verbal responses were a product of the limbic system and couldn’t be easily regulated.
“What can I do?” David asked.
“Call Tim and warn him. I want you both to be on the lookout in case these guys come after you.”
“Don’t worry, I have a contingency plan.” David had probably been preparing for the day when the Syndicate would reappear since January when he had rescued Marie.
The minute he disconnected, Sinclair said, “How is my brother?” She hadn’t moved and her eyes were still closed. There was absolutely no sign she was awake.
“He sounded good. Did you want to talk to him?” Finn shouldn’t be shocked that she was conscious. How could anyone sleep with everything that had happened?
“Are you going to check out the break-in at Child Seekers?” Finally, she opened her eyes and stretched out her arms, working the knots out of her shoulders. “There’s something not right about it, but I can’t put my finger on it.”
He searched through the files on his desk. “I have the report here. The robbery itself is troubling.”
“It’s not that. They stole my information. Why bother?” She continued to stretch, not looking at him.
He stared at her for a moment. The napping, the stretching, all her movements telegraphed blocking. Why hadn’t he seen it before? He was way too close to this case. His emotional involvement meant his reasoning was compromised. When Kennedy arrived, she would be able to help him by providing some distance.
He forced his mind back to Sinclair’s question. “So they could track you. Once they have your social security number, they know everything about you.”
“Don’t you think that’s redundant? I mean, I’ve been trained to lay low, travel under the radar, and use only cash.”
He rubbed his chin. He needed a shave. “Maybe they don’t know about Child Seeker’s standard operating procedure.”
