by Kat Martin
She flushed. She knew exactly what he meant. She was ready for him, too. She had thought of him constantly. It was the reason companies didn’t encourage office affairs.
She rose to follow him but turned at the sound of a man’s deep voice. Reese was staring over her shoulder, watching a big blond man with a flattop haircut walking toward them. Dressed in a dark brown suit and wingtip shoes, he strode past them, right into Reese’s office.
“Well, Special Agent Taggart,” Reese said dryly. He motioned for Kenzie to join them, then closed the door. “I hope this means you’ve found the man responsible for the Sea Titan helicopter crash.”
“You could say that. Currently, he’s lying on a slab in the morgue.”
Reese’s glance cut to her. “FBI Special Agent Quinn Taggart, meet my executive assistant, McKenzie Haines.”
Taggart dipped his chin in greeting. “Ms. Haines...”
“Special Agent.”
“Kenzie’s been involved in the investigation since the day the chopper went down, so I’d like her to sit in on our conversation.”
Taggart nodded. “That’s not a problem. This won’t take long.”
They moved to the seating area around the dark walnut coffee table. Reese offered the agent something to drink, but he declined.
“Last week,” Taggart began, “a mechanic named Louis Kroft was murdered outside a vacant warehouse in Dallas. Took two .45 caliber slugs to the chest, plus a stray bullet that ricocheted off the gravel and lodged in his abdomen. We were able to ID him, track him back to where he was living in Port Arthur. He’d only been working there a few weeks, coincidentally took the job not long after the Sea Titan helicopter went down. Turns out he was an expert on the EC135.”
Kenzie remembered the moment she’d heard about the deadly crash and felt a sudden chill.
“You think this is the guy?” Reese asked.
“Looks that way. Before the move, Kroft worked as a helicopter mechanic in Dallas. Quit his job and left town shortly after the crash. We found a couple of big deposits in his bank account, and gas receipts from a station in Galveston. We’re still investigating, but there’s a good chance it’s him.”
“So who killed him?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it? That and the reason he was murdered. Clearly he was working for someone else. That’s the person we’re looking for now.”
“Can you trace the money back to its source?”
Taggart shook his head. “Cash deposits made by Kroft himself.” He shoved his big frame up from the sofa. “I figure you’re probably still digging around. You hear anything about this guy or anything else, you let me know.”
Reese nodded. “I will.”
Taggart turned to Kenzie. “Pleasure meeting you, Ms. Haines.”
“Agent Taggart.” She didn’t say it was a pleasure meeting him, too. She’d had enough of law enforcement to last a lifetime. And now the mechanic who had sabotaged the helicopter was dead. Whichever way they turned, murder and mayhem swirled around them.
Reese followed Taggart to the door and closed it behind him. Then he turned back to Kenzie. Surprise jolted through her when he pulled her into his arms and kissed her so thoroughly her knees went weak. She was trembling when he let her go.
“Sorry. I just needed to get that out of my system. I missed you and I’ve been worried about you.”
“We...we can’t do that, Reese. I can’t concentrate on my job if I’m thinking about you instead of business.”
He nodded, a faint, unrepentant smile on his lips. “You’re right. I promise it won’t happen...often.” He actually grinned. “Now we can get to work.”
Kenzie laughed. She had never seen this side of him, relaxed and slightly playful. It only made him more attractive.
“Before we get started,” she said, “I should probably tell you Detective Ford came by to see me. He questioned me about the shooting skills my dad taught me and warned me I could be dragging you into a lot of trouble.”
Reese frowned. “Next time you don’t talk to him. You call Nathan.”
“I thought about it. Next time I will.”
“Good. Now let’s go over my schedule for the week—starting with when we’ll have time to see each other outside the office. Tonight would be a good start.”
Kenzie smiled, the anxiety she’d felt all weekend slipping away. Reese still wanted her. For now, everything was okay.
Except that she was still the primary suspect in her ex-husband’s murder. A chill of foreboding crept down her spine. Everything was definitely not okay.
* * *
At the end of the very long workday, Kenzie looked up to see Reese walking toward her.
“So what time am I picking you up?” he asked.
“I...umm...guess you forgot that meeting you have with the mayor and members of the city council. I should have reminded you earlier, but other things came up. They’re expecting you to be there. I don’t see any way around it.”
Reese softly cursed. “All right, if the meeting doesn’t go too late, I’ll call you. Maybe I can stop by for a nightcap.”
The heat in his eyes said a nightcap would lead exactly where Kenzie wanted to go. “Gran goes to bed early. It’s a school night for Griff, so that could work.”
She thought he might lean over and kiss her, but fortunately for both of them, at the last minute he came to his senses.
They left the office anticipating their rendezvous later that night, but fate in the guise of the mayor intervened and Reese’s meeting went past midnight. With their trip to Houston scheduled for the next day, Kenzie was able to squelch her disappointment.
Still, worry about Lee’s murder, and what the police would do when they discovered the money from his life insurance policy, kept her awake. She was shifting restlessly on the mattress, determined to get some sleep, when an odd sound reached her.
When the noise came again, she grabbed her pink cotton robe off the chair and slipped it on. As she stepped into the hall, she recognized the sound as heavy footfalls on carpet and they seemed to be coming from Griff’s bedroom at the end of the hall.
Her pulse kicked up and her mouth went dry. With her pistol gone, she had no weapon to fend off an intruder, and no time to go in search of one. Not when Griff could be in danger.
Hurrying back to her bedroom, she grabbed her keys out of her purse, laced the jagged metal between her fingers as her dad had taught her to do, and stepped back out into the hall. As she approached Griff’s room, she could hear men’s voices, and the taste of fear filled her mouth.
Moving quietly, she turned the knob and silently opened the door. Moonlight steaming in through the open bedroom window illuminated a man lifting her son over a thick shoulder in a fireman’s carry.
“Griff!” She lunged toward him, spotted another man, shorter, with curly black hair, an instant too late. His fist slammed into her jaw, spinning her into the wall, but she kept her grip on the keys.
“Griff!” Struggling to regain her balance, she charged, punching, kicking, raking the keys down his cheek.
“Bitch!” Blood erupted, ran down his face in scarlet rivulets. He reached for her, but she was already racing toward the bigger man holding her son. Griff was unconscious, she realized, his wrists and ankles bound.
Terror struck. “Let him go!” Lashing out with the keys, she fought like a wild thing, screaming for help, praying Gran would hear her in her bedroom downstairs and call the police. Fury and desperation drove her even as the man with the curly black hair jerked her away and punched her in the stomach, then hit her in the face.
Shouting Griff’s name, Kenzie gripped the keys, used them to slice one of his arms, and tried to knee him in the groin.
Still unconscious, Griff never stirred, but the bigger man kept moving, ducking through the bedroom window, descending a ladder pro
pped against the side of the town house.
The man with the curly black hair punched her so hard she hit the wall and slid down to the bedroom floor. Her head spun and her vision dimmed as she flashed in and out of consciousness.
“No cops.” The man grabbed her chin and tilted her head back. “You hear me, lady? You want your kid to live, you keep quiet and do what they tell you. You got it?”
When she didn’t answer soon enough, he slapped her face. “You got it? Say it?”
She swallowed. “No...police.”
“That’s right. You’ll be hearing from us. Till then, keep your mouth shut.”
Kenzie tried to get up, but he hit her again. “And tell your boyfriend he had better keep his fucking brothers out of it.”
Her eyes slid closed. It was the last thing she remembered until Gran opened the door, saw her lying on the floor covered in blood, and screamed.
TWENTY-FOUR
Reese was dead asleep when the phone rang. His meeting had run longer than he’d expected and he’d gotten home late. With a weary sigh, he rolled over to grab his cell phone off the nightstand, read the digital numbers on the clock: 4:01 a.m.
Since nothing good happened at four o’clock in the morning, his heart rate jolted from sluggish into high gear. Recognizing Kenzie’s cell number sent his pulse rate up another notch. “Kenzie?”
“Reese, it...it’s Florence.” Her voice shook. “Kenzie’s hurt. Men took Griff and they told her not to call the police.” Florence sobbed into the phone. “I didn’t know who else to call. Please help us, Reese.”
But Reese was already up and moving, trying to wrap his head around another disaster, trying not to imagine what terrible thing might have happened to Kenzie. “Does she need an ambulance? How badly is she hurt?”
“She won’t go to the hospital. Please come, Reese.”
“Listen to me, Flo. I’m on my way right now. I’m calling a doctor. He’ll meet us there.”
“No police. She just keeps saying it over and over.”
“No police, Flo. This man is a friend. He’ll help her and there won’t be any police involved. Just tell her to hang on until I get there.” He swallowed, fought for control. “Both of you. Just hang on.”
Florence made a sound in her throat. Then she took a shaky breath. “We’ll be okay. I’ll take care of her till you get here. Thank you.”
Reese ended the call. He didn’t want thanks. Kenzie was hurt. He needed to get to her. It occurred to him that nothing in the world could stop him.
Dressing quickly, he made a brief pause in his study to retrieve the Nighthawk semiauto in his safe. He kept the gun for protection. His juvenile records were sealed, which allowed him to get a permit. He had learned the hard way there were bad people in the world.
Minutes later, he was behind the wheel of the Jaguar, roaring out of the garage. As the vehicle fishtailed onto the deserted street, Reese fought to steady himself. It was time to shut down his emotions and regain control.
He voice-dialed Dr. Charles Chandler, a longtime Garrett family friend, and the doctor agreed to meet him at Kenzie’s town house on Gilbert Street.
Reese stepped on the gas, sliding around corners, accelerating, rolling through stop signs at intersections. No police, he reminded himself, and slowed the Jag enough so he wouldn’t get stopped. Still, he made the trip in record time. As he got out of the car and raced up the sidewalk, Florence opened the door.
“Thank God,” she said.
“The doctor should be here any minute. Where’s Kenzie?”
“Upstairs in Griff’s room.”
Reese raced past her up the stairs, Florence hurrying to catch up. The door to the bedroom stood open. A lamp burned on the bedside table, casting shadowy light around the room. Aside from the nightstand, the room was in shambles, as if a bomb had exploded, curtains torn down, photos and trophies on top of the dresser broken and strewn all over the floor.
Kenzie sat on the edge of Griff’s bed, her head hanging forward, dark hair hiding her face. Bruises began to darken the back of her neck and her arms below the short sleeves of her pink cotton robe. Kenzie sobbed into Griff’s Dallas Cowboys jersey, which she hugged against her chest.
For an instant, Reese stood frozen, blinding rage pouring through him. Clamping down hard on his emotions, he crouched on the floor in front of Kenzie. Reaching out, he gently caught hold of her hand.
“It’s okay, baby. I’m here now. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She looked up at him, her eyes stricken with fear and grief. Tears tracked down her cheeks. “Reese...oh, God.” She leaned forward, put her head on his shoulder, and kept sobbing. Reese gently held her that way, terrified he would hurt her. He didn’t know how badly she was injured. He didn’t want to make it worse.
Wiping tears from her cheeks, Kenzie sat up on the edge of the bed. “They took him, Reese. They took Griff. They came right...right into our home and kidnapped my little boy.”
He took her hand. It felt icy cold. He saw the bruises on her knuckles and pressed his lips there. “We’re going to get him back. I promise you. Right now, I need to see how badly you’re hurt.”
She didn’t protest when he opened her robe. His jaw tightened as he studied the darkening bruises on her pretty breasts and torso, did a quick check for broken bones, didn’t find any, but she sucked in a breath when he touched her ribs. Her eyes were puffy, her jaw bruised, her plump bottom lip cut and swollen. Fresh rage welled inside him. It took all his will to battle it down.
“I need you to tell me exactly what happened,” he said softly. “Can you do that, honey?”
Tear-filled eyes fixed on his face. She took a steadying breath and nodded. “It...it was late. I tried to sleep but I had too much on my mind. I was lying there, thinking about Lee’s murder, thinking about what the police might do, when I heard a noise. I wasn’t sure what it was, so I got...got up to check. I heard voices in Griff’s bedroom and when I opened the door, I saw... I saw a man carrying him over his shoulders toward the open window.” Her voice broke.
“It’s okay, baby, just take your time.” Where the hell is that doctor? He ground his teeth in frustration but kept his emotions locked down tight.
“Griff was...Griff was bound hand and foot and I...I realized he was unconscious. I tried to stop the man who was taking him. I didn’t see the second man until...until he hit me.”
Reese clamped down on a shot of fury, managed to hang on to his temper by a thread. “Go on.”
“We fought. I had my keys between my fingers like my dad taught me and I raked them down his face. He was bleeding and he was furious. That’s why he kept hitting me.” She glanced toward the window as if she thought Griff might reappear.
“What happened then?”
“The first man disappeared out the window with Griff over his shoulders, but the second man stayed to warn me not to call the police.” She covered her lips with a trembling hand and blood smeared her fingers. “He said...” She swallowed. “He said I would be hearing from them. He said to tell my...my boyfriend to keep his brothers out of it. Oh, God, Reese.”
He wanted to pull her into his arms and hold on tight, but he didn’t dare. Not until the doctor checked her injuries.
Instead, he held on to her trembling hand. “Listen to me, honey. Those men kidnapped Griff for a reason. They’re probably planning to ransom him back to you. If it’s money they want, I’ve got plenty. More than enough. We’ll get him back, no matter what it takes. I promise you.”
Her eyes met his, hers glazed with tears. He had no idea what she was thinking. But the fact that they knew who he was put an extra layer of intrigue over the abduction. He had to find out what the hell was going on.
“You said there were two men. Can you tell me what they looked like?”
She swallowed, sat up a little straighter, winced
at the movement. “Everything happened so fast it’s all...it’s all kind of a blur.”
She closed her eyes, taking time to recall. “I don’t remember much about the first man. He was as tall as you, I guess, only thicker in the chest and shoulders. Not muscular, just bigger. The other man had curly black hair. He had kind of a homely, dish-shaped face and he was a lot shorter. I remember the first man handled Griff carefully while the other man... I...I think that man could have killed me and it wouldn’t have bothered him at all.”
Emotion seared Reese’s chest. He clamped down to stay in control.
A sound in the hall caught his attention. He glanced up to see an imposing silver-haired man standing in the doorway, medical bag in hand.
Reese pushed to his feet. “Charles. Thank you so much for coming.” He turned. “Kenzie, this is Dr. Chandler. He’s a friend. He’s going to take care of you.”
Her gaze went to the doctor and fear flashed in her eyes. “You won’t tell the police?”
“I’m here to help you. That’s all.” His gaze swung to Reese. “Give me a moment with my patient, will you, Reese?”
He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay in case Kenzie needed him. He forced a smile in her direction. “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
Reese stepped into the hall and closed the door, careful to keep his emotions in check, trying to work out his next move. No police. That left out FBI agent Quinn Taggart, or Detective Heath Ford. But they needed help, needed information. Bran was in Colorado. He had to call Chase. No other choice but to take the risk.
Florence stood in the hall a few feet away, staring worriedly at the bedroom door.
“I need to borrow your cell phone, Flo. They might be tracking mine.”
Her eyes flashed to his, fresh worry in them. She pulled her phone out of the pocket of the robe she was wearing and handed it to Reese.
It occurred to him that Chase might see the kidnapping as another way of setting him up. He might think Kenzie was in on the abduction as a way to extort money from him. But the battered, devastated mother he had seen in the bedroom wasn’t pulling any kind of con.
