by Nicole Casey
“He’s right,” I said. “We have to do something. We have to find her, and we have to find out who sent her that shit so we can prove to her that it wasn’t true. We need her, the kids need her, we have to figure this out. Oliver, where is Cade? What have you two learned?”
“When I called him he answered and just said ‘I’ll be there, but I’ll be late,’ and hung up on me,” Oliver said.
I crossed my arms in a huff. Oliver and Cade were our best hope for a lead, and Cade told us that he’d paid some seedy guy he knew down in Florida to track down the person who sent the package, but we hadn’t heard anything additional since then. We had to be able to do something more. We had to be able to find the woman we loved.
“Can’t you do something else?” I asked Oliver. “Did you run the fingerprints?”
“There were about fifty prints on those photos. They’d been handled by everyone from the sales clerk at the place he printed them from, to Joe Schmoe from up the street. The prints are no good,” Oliver explained. “All we were able to learn from the paper is that it was from Florida, which we already knew, and we have nothing to compare the handwriting test to. We ran it through the system to see if there were any matching samples in the system, but came up totally empty.”
“So, what?” Lowe whined. “That’s it? We’re just at a dead end?”
“Right? Can we go back and work the delivery man over a little more?” Rogan added.
“All threads lead back to Florida and the address that we already have. It’s not a residential address, but a police department with over 100 officers. We can’t rightfully ask Cade’s shifty contact to walk in there and yell ‘Hey, any of you chaps blackmailing a guy in Texas that’s in witness protection and not supposed to be talked about, by the way, can you also please not arrest me for the myriad of crimes I’ve committed?’” Oliver was dramatically flailing his arms about in a way that would have made me laugh if I wasn’t so upset. “We’re doing everything we can, guys. We want to find Jordan just as badly as you do.”
“Damn right we do.” I looked over my shoulder and Cade was walking into the kitchen. “And we’ve finally caught a break.”
“You’ve found her?” Lowe said, jumping up from the stool where he was sitting, looking like a puppy being offered a bone.
Cade looked at Lowe sadly. “No, but I did find our blackmailer.” He set a folder on the counter and opened it and everyone gathered around. The top page was a picture of a man with short blond hair, cyan blue eyes, and severe, cut jaw. “An ex-cop from West Palm Beach, Florida, Nathan Greene.”
“The brother?” Rogan said, remembering Harrison’s story from before. “Was running you out of town not enough?”
“Evidently not,” Harrison said. “How did he find me? My new name and location were only known to a select few.”
“Yeah,” Cade said, flipping the top image of Nathan over to reveal a picture of another man with a drill sergeant look to him, with buzz cut hair. “Recognize him?”
“The FPD captain,” Harrison responded. “Milton Jones.”
“Apparently, Milton had a thing for your ex. He was told your identity as a confidant of the FBI to inform them if Nathan tried anything crazy, but he worked with him instead to find you,” Cade said, flipping the top page, and revealing a far off shot of the two of them clinking whisky glasses in a bar. “My guy found them talking about how Nathan had delivered the photos and everything should be falling apart.”
Oliver hissed. “Please, please tell me you had that guy take them out?”
“And have us become the men that Jordan is horrified Harrison is?” Cade responded. “Why would I do that when I have the law on my side?”
Harrison smiled. “Good man.”
“So what’d you do?” I asked.
“I called the FBI of course. I told them that their PD captain had violated a federal law by compromising Harrison’s identity and that Nathan used that compromised identity to blackmail Harrison and threaten Jordan,” Cade explained with a grin on his face. “They’ve both been arrested and being punished to the full extent of the law.” His grin grew into something more mischievous and evil. “Although, just in case they did get the message, I had Liam deliver them some packages of their own.”
Oliver gasped like a school girl at a concert. “Explosive car kind?”
Cade nodded. “Explosive car kind.”
All of the guys and I started clapping and Cade bowed. “Thank you, but I can’t take all the credit. The car packages were Oliver’s idea.”
Oliver shrugged. “I figured if they wanted to deliver packages, they could receive them.”
“Nathan tried to figure out who did it, and may have met the wrong end of Liam’s guys’ boots,” Cade shrugged. “But I can neither confirm nor deny that.”
“How did you seriously manage to pull that off?” Rogan murmured.
Cade shrugged. “There isn’t a lawyer or cop alive who doesn’t know some criminals for hire, and can use those people to their advantage.” He closed the folder. “Jordan means too much to me, to all of us, and I’m not about to let her go without a fight.”
Sentiments shared. Cade had taken care of one half of the problem, and it was beyond the time to buckle down and find our girl and get her back home.
23
Harrison
Two Weeks Later
I was rushing over to Ethan’s after he had begun saying some things that were concerning and upsetting. Randomly, at about 8 o’clock the night prior, he began sending me unused profiles of nannies that we had passed on when we hired Jordan. I didn’t know if he was just trying to upset me, or if he was actually considering looking for a new nanny, but either way, he clearly required intervention.
Jordan had been gone for just shy of a month, and it was wearing on all of us. We were back to trying to juggle our jobs and manage our children’s schedules and that was nothing compared to the heartache of being apart from Jordan and not having her bright, effervescent face around to brighten all of our lives. The kids were downright depressed with her gone, and even out round robin of putting up Christmas decorations at one another’s homes had done little to lift their spirits. Our homes were dressed with Christmas trees, lights, garlands, and presents, but our gloominess doused the cheer. We missed Jordan more than any of us realized we were going to, and I still couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was my fault.
I entered Ethan’s house just after he’d gotten the twins down for bed, and he was in his den working on a glass of scotch, with a nearly empty body sitting in front of him. “Hey,” he greeted groggily, his sunken eyes and sullen expression glowing in the light of the den’s roaring fireplace. I noticed as I got further into the room, that the same profiles Ethan had been sending me, were fanned out on the table. I stormed over to them and gathered them up, and tossed them onto the flames. Ethan shrugged. “I have copies.”
“Why are you even looking at these?” I growled. “Replace Jordan? Have you lost your mind?”
“Have you lost yours?” Ethan said. “I want her back more than anything, but it’s been three weeks and she hasn’t so much as confirmed she’s alive. Fuck her. We’ll find someone else.”
“You don’t mean that,” I said to him. “I know you love Jordan, we all do. We can’t just get a new nanny. What would the kids think? What would the guys think? We can’t just forget her like she was never a part of our lives.”
“You think that’s what I want?” Ethan said, his voice rising. “I don’t want to forget her, but she’s not here, Harrison! She left. She left us, she left our kids. This is why we wanted a nanny in the first place, because we need one.”
“Put yourself in her shoes,” I retorted. “Given what she’d just learned.”
“You told us all of that shit for the first time, and we’re still here.” He stood up. “What about you? Doesn’t it hurt you that she actually believes you’re capable of something so horrible?”
The truth was, t
hat fact hadn’t left my brain for a moment. “It does.” It haunted me to know that in the time Jordan and I had spent together, I hadn’t successfully convinced her that I was a man of honor and integrity who would never harm someone, least of all her. “But I just try and think about how I would feel to learn that someone I loved and trusted was embroiled in something so horrendous. Even if I hadn’t done it, it was still something big that I kept from her. She has every right to feel frustrated.”
“She’s doing exactly what all of our ex-wives and girlfriends did to us,” Ethan said. “Shit gets hard and she’s gone!”
I had no idea Ethan felt the way he did. Just a couple of weeks prior he was leading the search party, suddenly, he felt so jaded. Still, I knew that the situation with Jordan was different, and I could feel in my heart that we hadn’t seen the last of our blond beauty. I just had to find her. I just had to speak to her, heart-to-heart, and show her my true self and I knew she would come back home.
“We can’t just replace her, Ethan. That’s not what any of us want, you included,” I said.
“What about the kids?” he asked, and it was like a jackhammer to my heart. I didn’t have an answer. I went quiet and Ethan settled back down into his armchair. “Exactly.” He looked up at me, and his eyes were serious, yet full of emotion. “I want Jordan back, and maybe if she comes back, we can figure out what that means, but the kids need a nanny. They need a woman to care for them and be there for them, regardless. I will wait 24 hours. If we haven’t heard from Jordan by tomorrow night, I’m going to start arranging interviews.”
I wanted to continue to argue with him, but I couldn’t. I understood where he was coming from. The very reason we started looking for a nanny was because we couldn’t manage everything the children needed. So, I had my goal, and I just had to achieve it.
“24 hours,” I said.
Ethan nodded, and I didn’t waste anymore time. I left Ethan’s place and got in my car, my heart racing as I came to realize I was going to have to unlock my past a little if I had any hope of meeting Ethan’s deadline. Jordan needed me, and she deserved the truth, by whatever means necessary.
I called Oliver, with whom I’d left Trey, and asked him if he could keep him overnight and deal with him tomorrow, and after confirming that, I drove to a bank far outside of Dallas. I kept my eyes peeled for anyone watching or keeping an eye on me, and then I went inside and accessed my safety deposit box. In it, were a few things that I’d kept from my former life. Eva and I’s rings, Trey’s birth certificate, our old social security cards, and my case files from Eva’s death. Among a few other trinkets, was a phone in which I had all of my old contacts. My absolute, last resort, if there was no other option friends, that I knew would help me if I found myself unable to complete a task on my own.
I grabbed the case files and secured the number of an old friend of mine named Travis. He was a cohort of mine from when I was still an agent of the FBI, and he himself worked for the NSA. Once I was free of the bank, I locked myself back in my car, and called him with the bluetooth speaker off, and my phone volume very low.
“Hello?” Travis answered with a shaky voice.
I took a deep breath. “Hey, Trav.”
The phone was silent for a long time before Travis spoke again. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Adam?” Travis repeated. “They told me you were dead. You and Trey. You have got to be--” his voice trailed off. “I would hang up on you if I wasn’t so happy to hear your stupid, goddamn voice.”
“Nice to talk to you too, buddy,” I replied.
Despite only talking to one another in a professional capacity, Travis and I had gotten quite close. Whenever our paths crossed, we got along great, and we preferred to work on cases together. We always threatened to take things outside the workplace and introduce our wives and children one day, but we never got around to it before I had to pack up and go. For my safety, and everyone else’s, I wasn’t told what would be provided to my old friends and co-workers as an explanation for my sudden departure, but I figured it may be something as definitive as death. That was typically the only thing that would make people stop looking.
“God, fuck. Witness protection? Because of the stuff with Eva?” Travis asked.
“Yep,” I replied. “Travis, I swear--”
“Do not insult my intelligence by insinuating that I actually would have believed you did that,” he said. “I know you. I know you didn’t do that.”
It was a relief to hear that after everyone from my old life was so convinced I had. “Look, I hate to call you up after five years, and when you thought I was dead, but I really need a favor.”
“God I hope you could feel me punch you through this fucking phone,” Travis barked. “What is it?”
“I need you to find someone,” I said.
“Is that it? Couldn’t you do that?” he responded.
“This is different. I have no idea where she’s gone or any clue to help. I’m talking invasion of privacy. I need you to find someone,” I repeated.
Travis groaned. “I don’t know, Adam. I could go to federal prison for that.”
“I’ll pay you. Any amount,” I said. “Just name it.”
“It’s not about the money,” Travis responded.
“$3,000,” I offered.
“Adam, seriously, no amount of money is worth--”
“$5,000,” I cut in.
“Dude.”
“$10,000,” I said.
Travis hesitated. “Who is this that you are willing to pay that much money just to find them?”
“Someone very, very important to me. Please. I have to find her,” I begged. “I can wire the money to you right now.”
“I wouldn’t even take it if I didn’t need it to make sure my family is set up in case I get arrested for a fucking ghost,” Travis responded. “You can send it now?”
“Yes,” I replied quickly.
“Fine. I’ll send you the bank details, you send me the name,” Travis said.
“Thank you, Travis. Thank you so much,” I responded.
“So, do you die again, or what?” Travis asked.
“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” I said. “The main threat is gone, but I quite like my new life. We’ll have to see.”
Travis sighed. “Well, just, stay in touch… you dick.”
I laughed. “Let’s finally get that coffee soon,” I said, and the line went dead without another word.
I exchanged information with Travis, sent the money, and waited patiently for a response. The moon was high in the sky and I was just hoping that Travis could find the information needed in time. I was starting to doze off in my car, when I all of a sudden got a text. My heart jumped up into my throat.
‘Found your girl. She’s staying with her friend Khloe DuBois in Houston.’ There was a photo of an address below it. A few tears actually started to stream down my face. I’d found her. I typed a gracious response, texted Oliver to let him know I was bound for Houston and to alert the guys, and then set off. I didn’t want to go home and pack bags, I barely wanted to stop to gas up my car, I just wanted to drive until I was holding Jordan in my arms. It was close to four hours from city to city, but I probably did it in two and a half. It was a miracle that I didn’t get pulled over, but I couldn’t slow my pace. My car was racing as fast as my heart, and neither would calm until I was in Houston at Khloe’s doorstep. It was just after 10 o’clock at night when I was finally pulling up in front of the duplex that matched the address I clamored out of my car, and ran up to the door, knocking frantically despite the late hour.
There were a few sounds of footsteps and movement from the other side of the door, and then a voice called out. “Hello? Who’s there?”
“Hello, my name is Harrison Rowe. I’m a friend of Jordan’s. I know she’s here and it is imperative that I speak with her, please,” I begged.
<
br /> “I-I think you should go,” the voice called back, I assumed it was Khloe’s and frightened because Jordan had no doubt told her my story. “I don’t want to call the police.”
“You can call them,” I replied. “I’m running from nothing. I’m not the man Jordan thinks I am.” I leaned against the door. “Please, Jordan, if you can hear me. Please, just let me explain. We’re sick without you, we haven’t gone a day without thinking about you. The story you were told was a lie, and if you just give me a few minutes, I can explain everything.” I rubbed the door as if it could reach through to Jordan. “You know me, Jordan. You know I couldn’t do something like that. You know that in your heart. Please, just give me a chance to explain.”
I sat in silence for a while. I could see that the neighbor from the adjoining duplex had her head poked out the window and was looking down at me, but I didn’t care. I’d embarrass myself a million times over for the chance to speak with Jordan. I’d do whatever I had to. I already had.
I heard the lock click, and my stomach flipped. The door moved aside, and there stood Jordan, her hair in a bun, and her eyes weary and exhausted. She still looked stunning and it took everything in me not to grab her and pull her to me.
“Hi,” I whimpered. “You look wonderful.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” Jordan said, and I could tell she still had a bit of hesitation.
“You opened this door because part of you believes me,” I said. “I’ll tell you the whole truth. Can I please?” Jordan nodded and I took a deep breath before beginning. “My name is Adam Rowland. I was a Navy Seal and then I went into work with the FBI as an agent. I was married to a woman named Eva, Trey’s mother, and my long hours at work and absence from our home caused her to become clinically depressed. After she had Trey, the feeling compounded, and in the end she took her own life. I came home to find her dead on my bed. Those pictures you saw.”
I noticed Jordan’s stance relaxing a bit, some of the tension was fading. Whether because she was starting to believe me, or just because our being in close proximity was giving her comfort, she was starting to relax. I held out the case files from Eva’s death to Jordan.
