Dangerously Involved

by Sidney Bristol

  “Shit,” Melody spat catching sight of the small army out front.

  “Mel, hide. Get Grant on the phone. We need backup.” Nolan dragged Yvonne to the hall closet and backed her into it. “Whatever happens, cooperate with them. Buy us time to find you. I will find you. Do you understand?”

  Yvonne stared up at him, her eyes wide with fear.

  He loved her, and she was about to be ripped from him.

  “They’re coming,” Melody said from the office.

  Nolan committed Yvonne’s face to memory. This might be the last time he saw her, and he still didn’t know her secrets.

  “I will find you.” And if he didn’t, his team would.

  He shut the door on her then turned toward the front of the house. “Mel, I thought I told you to hide.”

  “Hide where?” She stood with her back flat against the wall in the office staring out the window.

  Shadows moved on the other side of the front door.

  Something hit the solid wooden door. Screws popped off the hinges.

  He side stepped to the left and lifted his gun.

  Once more something—it had to be a door ram—slammed into the wood. This time the front door broke free of the hinges, toppling inward before pitching to the right.

  Nolan fired.

  Something hard connected with his head. He pitched backward, staggering as his vision swam. A hissing sound and smoke filled the room. Some kind of gas.

  Hands grabbed Nolan. Pain blossomed in his right arm and he dropped his gun.

  “Hold him,” a man barked out.

  That voice was familiar.

  Where had Nolan heard it before?

  “Find the girl,” the same man said.

  Nolan blinked his blurry eyes.

  These men were also dressed in black, but these were not the Yakuza who’d attacked the Krieger home. Whoever these men were, they were different. And they were after Yvonne.

  Figures dispersed through the house. Doors banged open.

  “Let go of me. No.” Melody coughed and her heels skidded on the floor.

  “She’s not here, sir,” a different man called out from the hall.

  “She’s here,” the man with the familiar voice said.

  Nolan’s eyes stung, and it was hard to breathe. He still strained to look at the man.

  The guy in charge approached Nolan, staring down at him from behind a gas mask. For a moment Nolan and the man stared at each other.

  There was no point in issuing threats. That would only inform the man how important Yvonne was to Nolan, and he wanted this enemy to underestimate him. Let him think Nolan was simply a bodyguard.

  “Someone point a gun at the woman’s head.”

  Nolan’s gut knotted.

  At least four men lifted their weapons to aim at Melody. To her credit she barely flinched.

  “Don’t tell then anything,” Melody said.

  “Wasn’t planning on it.” Nolan wouldn’t give Yvonne up.

  The coat closet door banged open.

  “Stop,” Yvonne yelped.

  “No,” Nolan snarled. He pushed to his feet.

  The butt of a rifle connected with the side of his head and he pitched sideways.

  “Get her into the SUV. Tie these two up,” the leader said.

  The car.

  This was the man who’d been eyeing Douglas’ sports car.

  They’d been so blinded by the family drama that they’d allowed whoever this man was to get close enough to pull this off. And now Yvonne would pay.

  Nolan kept his mouth shut when he wanted to call after Yvonne.

  I’ll find you.

  We’ll bring you home safe.

  I love you.

  But he couldn’t say any of that.

  The familiar man crouched next to Nolan while Melody’s hands were bound to her ankles. His face was obscured by a knit mask, but it was the eyes Nolan remembered.

  “No cops. No FBI. No media coverage. Anyone comes sniffing, she dies. Understand? I’ll be in touch.” The man patted Nolan’s cheek. “Let’s get out of here.”

  Two men shoved Nolan to the ground.

  This man wasn’t leaving them dead. He wanted Yvonne for a purpose, and that meant she had a higher chance of living through this. If she gave the man what he wanted.

  “What the fuck, Nolan?” Melody spat as the men fled the house.

  “What?” He twisted his wrist, wiggling his watch around.

  “You barely put up a fight. We could have—”

  “What? We could have—what Mel? Get ourselves killed? Put Vee’s life in more danger?”

  There.

  He felt the snick of the spring release along the watch give. Now he hooked his fingers into the band and shifted it until he found resistance. The little hidden blade wasn’t good for much but it was sharp.

  “Where did those men come from?” Melody asked.

  “The ring leader’s that guy I told you about. The one who was interested in Doug’s car.” Nolan grit his teeth and sawed harder. “We have to get free before the FBI show up.”

  “How?”

  Nolan flexed his arms.

  The restraint popped.

  He sat up and reached for the knife in his boot.

  “How the hell?” Melody gaped at him.

  He sliced the bonds around his ankles then the one dangling from his wrist.

  There were minutes to spare and the front door was busted.

  How were they going to pull this off?

  Nolan cut Melody’s wrists free then thrust the knife into her hands to release her ankles. “Let Grant know. Send them to the next safe house and start tracking Yvonne. We need to get on their tail as fast as possible.”

  He shoved to his feet and sprinted across to the front door. He grabbed the slab of wood and propped it on its end.

  Did he think he could sell this?

  A black SUV pulled up then into the drive.

  No time.

  Nolan let the door drop to the ground then strode out to meet the agents. A version of the truth would have to work.

  A man in a suit got out of the passenger seat. He studied Nolan, one brow slightly lifted, mouth in a line.

  “You must be Nolan Thompson. I’m Ryan Brooks.” The man extended his hand.

  “The family’s location has been compromised. Meeting is off,” Nolan said.

  “Is everyone okay? Where are they?”

  “That’s on a need to know basis.” Nolan crossed his arms over his chest.

  For now he’d play along with this mystery man’s rules, but soon they’d be playing Nolan’s game and he intended to win.

  SATURDAY. UNKNOWN LOCATION.

  Yvonne couldn’t stop shaking. She wasn’t cold, but that didn’t matter.

  What had Melody said that first day about what to do if kidnapped?

  The words slipped away from Yvonne. At the time she’d been annoyed. She hadn’t properly listened. Now she couldn’t recall the first thing Melody had said.

  Nolan had promised her he’d find her. Yvonne wanted to blindly trust those words, but she didn’t know if he was still alive or dead.

  Were these people connected to the Yakuza who’d attacked the house? The same ones who’d kidnapped Douglas?

  She wasn’t going to do herself any good if she kept panicking. She had to calm down. Maybe if she did, she’d be able to remember the presentation Melody had given them.

  Deep breath.

  Her shakes subsided a bit.

  Yvonne drew air in through her nose.

  Her head stopped buzzing and her field of vision began to grow from the narrow tunnel. Then again, being aware of everything else wasn’t necessarily a comforting thing.

  She was alone and relatively unhurt. The masked men had cut her clothes off, removing the vest and both the tracking device Nolan had shoved at her and the one she’d worn attached to her bra since day one. Now she wore ill fitting sweatpants and a T-shirt.

  The room
was clean. It wasn’t like something off TV or the movies with dank corners and the ever-present sound of dripping water. The cinderblock walls had been painted. The floor was laminate wood. Someone had taken effort to make the ceiling look tidy.

  Besides the wooden chair she was tied to there was a futon, three other chairs and a card table.

  If she had to guess, this was a basement somewhere.

  How long had they driven?

  It had felt like ages with that bag over her head.

  The men hadn’t spoken to her once except when they’d stripped her down to her underwear, and even then it had been short and to the point.

  They didn’t want to violate her. At least not yet.

  Her stomach knotted up.

  What about the baby?

  She didn’t know the first thing about what might hurt it.

  Nolan had told her to buy time. Cooperate.

  More time passed.

  Her stomach began to growl. Muscles ached from being forced into one position. Her tailbone went numb. Her shivers stopped. Even her fear subsided to the point that her mind began to wander.

  Where was Nolan now?

  What if she didn’t survive?

  What if he was dead?

  She should have told him about the baby. Her fear wasn’t a good enough excuse. She’d allowed herself to put it off, and now she might never get the chance.

  Something banged overhead.

  Wood squeaked.

  She turned her head toward the stairs and held her breath as someone descended the stairs. Her mouth dried up, and a tremble shook her.

  A pair of black boots came into view.

  Dark jeans.

  A black knit shirt.

  A bag.

  A cup.

  And finally a face. Or actually, a mask with a face painted on it with red lips and rosy cheeks.

  “Sorry about the wait.” The man’s voice was muffled.

  He set the brown paper bag and the cup on the card table.

  They hadn’t been violent or threatening. She held tight to those facts.

  The man turned to face her. “Do you need to use the restroom?”

  She needed to buy as much time as she could. “Yes.”

  “Before I do this, be aware that there are four men watching the door upstairs. Their orders are to shoot to kill. Understand?” He spoke calmly, casually. As if they were discussing meeting details.

  “Understood.” Yvonne’s voice only shook a little.

  The man pulled a knife out of his pocket and circled her. He sliced the bonds away without hurting her.

  “Bathroom is through there. You have a minute. Go.” The man lifted his hand and looked at a watch.

  He was literally counting the seconds.

  Yvonne got to her feet. Pins and needles stabbed her calves. She hobbled across to the bathroom and stepped inside. It was small, barely room for a shower, toilet and vanity.

  She didn’t need to go, she needed time. She turned on the tap then opened the medicine cabinet.

  Empty.

  She knelt and checked under the sink.

  Also empty.

  There wasn’t anything to use to protect herself.

  “Time’s running out,” the man said on the other side of the door.

  Yvonne pulled at her clothes then flushed the toilet. She’d just stuck her hands under the water when the door jerked open. The flinch she couldn’t help, but after that she stood her ground, splashed a little water on her face and the back of her neck.

  “Come eat and we’ll talk,” the man said.

  “If all you wanted to do was talk, we could have scheduled a meeting.”

  The man barked a laugh. She flinched and a cold sweat broke out under her arms.

  “You’ve got some nerve. I like that.” He gestured to the card table. “Sit.”

  She considered standing, but trying the man’s patience didn’t seem wise. Not when he was otherwise being pleasant to deal with for a kidnapper.

  Yvonne perched on the indicated chair. The man reached past her and pulled two hot dogs and a couple condiment packets out for her. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d eaten a hot dog.

  “Yvonne, I may call you by your first name, can’t I?” He sat across from her and leaned his forearms on the table.

  “What should I call you?” She tore open the ketchup and daubed the hot dogs with it.

  “You shouldn’t. It’s better that way.”

  She didn’t want to take a bite, but he did anyway. Chewing would give her enough reason to think through any answers he wanted her to give.

  “Look, Yvonne, I know you don’t have what I want, but the truth is you’re the person I could get.” He spread his hands.

  “What is it you want?” She took her first bite.

  “Access codes, obviously. I mean, who doesn’t want those? Am I right?” He chuckled and paused.

  She kept chewing.

  “I understand Theodore’s the one who has access to the codes. It’s him I really wanted, so I guess I’m sorry we’re going to have to go down this route.”

  Yvonne didn’t like the way he was staring at her or how he was speaking. She swallowed then asked, “What route?”

  “Well, I’ll have to scare your brother into giving me the codes now, and that means torturing you enough that he gives me what I want.” The man spoke calmly. There was such a disconnect between his words and his body language that it was hard for Yvonne to wrap her head around all of it.

  He was going to torture her even though he couldn’t get what he wanted to prove that he would do terrible things.

  Think.

  “Those codes are going to be useless,” she said as logic kicked in. “The FBI was about to arrive to meet with me. When they know I’m missing, all the codes will be changed. Theo won’t have them to give to you.”

  “Eh.” The man shrugged. “I think your bodyguard will take care of that for us.”

  “Nolan?”

  “I’ve been watching you two. He’s really into you. I bet he has the FBI eating out of his hand by now.” The man crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back.

  “I can get the codes for you,” she blurted.

  “Desperation doesn’t look good on you, sweetheart.”

  “I can get them.” She dropped the hotdog to the table and leaned forward. Her baby’s life depended on selling this story. “My family doesn’t know this, but I’m about to leave the company. I don’t care what happens to the business. I’ll do whatever you want.”

  “This isn’t a negotiation, Yvonne.” His voice lowered, his tone so cold it had her shivering again. “I’m going to show you how serious I am about this, and after that, we’ll have another conversation about what you might be able to do for me.”

  She pressed her hand against her stomach, mind scrambling for something she could give this man that would stop him before they’d begun.

  18.

  Saturday. Arlington, VA.

  Nolan knew whatever waited for him at the little, red blip wasn’t something he was going to like. Since he’d stonewalled the FBI, they’d been running balls to the wall trying to catch up with Yvonne’s tail.

  Three tracking devices and this was the last one.

  No one had said anything, but it was obvious that her kidnappers had stripped her of each device. Nolan had found the bracelet tracker on a sidewalk. The tracker he’d shoved inside her vest was in some bushes. Their last hope was the tracker Yvonne had kept clipped to her bra strap.

  Melody kept pace with him, her phone pressed to her ear and Grant no doubt tearing her a new asshole.

  This was on him. He’d been the operative in charge of Yvonne’s safety for that half-hour window, and he’d failed her.

  There was no question in his mind he’d find Yvonne, but would he be in time?

  The masked man had given Nolan a list of rules. That told Nolan that the guy wanted something. There would be an exchange of goods, intel or mo
ney, and that meant Yvonne was valuable.

  “Grant and Riley will be here in a minute,” Melody said.

  “What?” Nolan stopped and whirled. “The rest of the family is a target.”

  “And the FBI showed up at the hotel ten minutes ago demanding answers for Yvonne’s calling off the meeting.” Melody slid her phone into the pocket of her jeans. It was a rare day when she wore anything except slacks or a skirt. Today was clearly not going according to schedule.

  “Whatever. My focus is Yvonne.” He glanced at his phone and adjusted his direction.

  “I can see that.” Melody kept pace with him. “Nolan?”

  “What?”

  “We’re going to have to talk.”

  “So—talk.”

  “You aren’t hearing me.”

  “I can hear you just fine.”

  Melody blew out an exasperated breath.

  A familiar dark SUV rounded the end of the street before whipping into the small parking lot of a donut shop. Grant and Riley climbed out, their gazes scanning the street, the businesses.

  Nolan stepped through a fence and into a pay-by-the-hour parking lot. This time of day it was full.

  The signal was close.

  Nolan tuned out the others. The only thing he saw was the blinking red dot on his phone screen. Deep down he knew Yvonne wasn’t going to be there. His heart wasn’t listening to that logic.

  He jogged between the cars, cut left then between two vans and stopped at a light pole.

  Sitting on the concrete foundation was a lump of something swathed in the silky material of the top Melody had loaned Yvonne.

  Nolan balled his hands into fists and stared at the object.

  “What did you find?” Grant joined him and they both stared.

  “Move.” Melody nudged them aside. She pulled out a pair of rubber gloves, wiggled her hands into them then reached for the object.

  “Wait,” Riley blurted. He was the last to join their little ring of people. “Is that a good idea?”

  “No.” Melody tugged at an end of the fabric, forcing the object to unroll until they could see what it was.

  A cell phone. Likely a burner.

  Melody picked it up and powered on the screen.

  There was one text message.

  “What does it say?” Grant asked.

  Melody tapped the screen. “Video.”

  Nolan did not want to see this.