Lethal Ransom

by Laurie Alice Eakes

  She touched the tips of her fingers to his palm, finding it broad and firm, calloused as though he labored to earn his muscular frame rather than worked out in a gym. It was a hand one could hold onto and know one was safe.

  She snapped her thoughts back to what was important. “I would like my phone, please.” She sounded like a little girl asking for her favorite toy, not a grown woman with a master’s degree in social work and a responsible job.

  “I’ll get it for you as soon as the crime scene techs release it. Her Honor may try to call it.”

  “With what? Her phone’s still in the Camry.” Tears stung Kristen’s eyes. “I told her to put it down so it wouldn’t knock her in the face when we crashed. It’s my fault she doesn’t have it.”

  “Her kidnappers would probably have taken it away from her anyway, Kristen.” His tone was gentle, but his eyes were cold. She hadn’t thought brown eyes could hold no warmth, but his looked like frozen Fudgsicles, nice on a hot day but uncomfortable in the chill of a summer storm.

  “How will she call us if she doesn’t have a phone?” Kristen asked.

  “She’ll find a way if anyone can.” Nick touched her elbow. “Come on. You’re not doing her any good standing here in the rain. The sooner we make sure you’re all right and then get a statement from you, the sooner we can find her.”

  Kristen shook her head. “No paramedics. I’m just fine.”

  Except for her bruised and aching feet.

  “You were in a crash bad enough for your air bags to deploy.”

  “The air bags going off is why I’m fine.” She shifted from one foot to the other to ease pressure on her battered soles. “Please. I want to make my statement. I don’t know much, but the sooner I tell you what I do know, the sooner you can find my mother.”

  * * *

  Nick had no idea how the daughter of such a confident, powerful woman as Judge Julia Lang could walk as though she carried a hundred pound pack up a mountain, talk like the sound of her own voice frightened her and think she was to blame for that day’s events. But she did look a body in the eye. Every time those lake-blue eyes of hers met his, he felt like someone Tasered him. Zing. Zing. Zap. The electric energy flowed from his neck to his toes.

  In the office of the marshal service, Kristen Lang looked at him a great deal. Every time, she answered his questions precisely and concisely before she answered anyone else’s, so much so that US Marshal Tom Callahan, his boss, sent him out of the room “So you’ll stop being a distraction.”

  Nick didn’t argue, but he figured he was a help, not a hindrance, and someone’s ego was taking a hit at a time when egos over authority shouldn’t matter. With a reassuring smile for Kristen, Nick left the room at a snail’s pace and went into the hall.

  Where he noticed the blood on the floor.

  He shoved the door open. “Kristen, are you bleeding?”

  She didn’t meet his eyes this time. “Am I?” She glanced down, and her face whitened. “My feet. I knew they hurt, but—”

  “Why didn’t you tell the paramedics?” Callahan asked before Nick got the question out.

  “This interview is far more important.” If she was trying to smile, she failed. Her lips twisted, but more in a grimace of pain.

  “Enough questions,” Nick declared. “She needs to go to the hospital and have her feet seen to.”

  “My feet can wait. I need to answer all the questions I can to help find my mother.” Her hands gripped the edge of the table, the short, polished nails digging into the fake wood, the knuckles white. “Even if it’s my fault she was taken, it won’t be my fault she isn’t found.”

  “How many times do we have to tell you it’s not your fault, Kristen?” Callahan sounded impatient. “From what you’ve said and what Her Honor texted, we know that you took every precautionary action you could under the circumstances.”

  “But I should never have been under the circumstances.” This time, she focused those blue eyes on Callahan.

  He didn’t so much as blink at their impact.

  “May I take her to get her feet seen to, sir?” Nick asked.

  “Please do. And then drive her home and stay with her. Where is Her Honor’s husband?”

  “My father is in Switzerland,” Kristen said.

  “Business?” Nick asked, figuring on Zurich and Swiss bank accounts and all those things far above his touch or interest.

  She shook her head. “Mountain climbing or something like that.”

  “Your father’s on vacation without your mother?” Nick couldn’t keep the astonishment from his tone.

  He couldn’t imagine his parents going on more than a weekend retreat without each other.

  “Is that normal?”

  “Abnormal would be if he did take a vacation with her.” Her voice was flat as she looked at the table. “Has anyone called him?”

  “We left a voice mail,” Callahan said. “It’s the middle of the night there, though.”

  Kristen nodded, then tried to stand. With a little cry, she fell back into her chair.

  Callahan surged to his feet. “We’ll call an ambulance. I’m so sorry we didn’t realize sooner you were injured.”

  But they should have realized it. Nick should have. Someone, the paramedics if no one else, should have noticed she wore no shoes. His mother would have his hide for not being more careful with a lady who’d been in an accident and then run for her life down the side of the expressway.

  “Please don’t fuss over me.’” Her face was as white as the institutional walls around them. “I can walk.”

  “I don’t think so.” Nick glanced from his boss to Kristen. “With your permission, I’ll carry you.”

  “You can’t do that, Sandoval,” Callahan protested.

  “It’s better than wasting resources others may need instead.” Kristen offered the older man a tight smile, though her cheeks had flushed to the color of the strawberry Jell-O with whipped topping blended into it Nick’s aunt Maggie insisted on bringing to every family gathering. “Just don’t carry me over your shoulder. That’s how that man...how he carried...me.”

  She pressed her hand to her mouth. For a moment, Nick feared she would be sick. Then he saw the tears welling in her eyes and realized she was holding back a sob.

  If she were one of his sisters, he would pick her up and let her cry on his shoulder. She was, however, the daughter of a judge and the main witness to a serious crime perpetrated against that judge. He must maintain a professional demeanor which, sadly, included no comforting the victim.

  Maybe he could take her home and let his mom do that.

  Pretending he didn’t see the tears, he picked her up from the chair, glad he worked out regularly. She was a big girl, not overweight, just tall and not model thin. She was just right in her proportions, as far as he was concerned.

  “Is it all right if I put my arm around your neck?” she asked barely above a whisper.

  He’d be flirting inappropriately if he gave the answer that sprang to mind—A lady as pretty as you doesn’t need permission to put her arm around me—so he merely nodded and carried her outside to his car.

  The rain had stopped. With rush hour passed, the streets were emptier, the office buildings and most of the restaurants except those around the theaters having closed for the night. Nothing was quiet, though. Buses still roared up the streets and the “L” trains rattled overhead. The sharp tang of wet pavement filled the air along with exhaust and cooking odors.

  Nick was suddenly filled with a longing for the clean sweetness of rain-washed grass and dirt, his mother’s roses fragrant from their bath, and even the earthy notes of wet dog. Wanting these scents in his nostrils meant he wanted to be home or visiting his parents, anywhere but facing the sort of trouble this night was still bound to bring, especially not an urgent care or hospital emergency roo
m facility and the tedium of waiting in either.

  He didn’t realize he sighed until Kristen removed her arm from around his neck and spoke. “I’m sure I can walk now.”

  “No way. It’s just a few more feet to my car.”

  As in a half block to the parking garage, but he could manage, even if she was half again as heavy as his fiancée. His deceased fiancée. She’d been small-boned and fragile in too many ways, beyond his ability to save.

  “I should have let your boss call an ambulance,” Kristen said. “You don’t need to go to all this trouble for me.”

  “I have orders to stay with you no matter what.” Nick entered the parking garage and his Mustang was not far from the door.

  The advantage of returning to work after most people had gone home.

  “I have to set you down for a minute. Try to stand on your heels. I don’t want oil or anything in those cuts.” He released her from his hold.

  “I think it’s too late to worry about that now.” Her tone was sharp. He didn’t blame her. She was their only witness, their only hope at the moment of finding the judge, and they weren’t taking care of her.

  Despite her prickly response, she balanced on her heels, one hand resting on the black vinyl top of his convertible, her gaze focused on the street.

  Nick unlocked the car and opened her door. “Here you go.”

  She didn’t move except to fix her gaze on him. “Why did they take her?”

  “If we figure that out, it will help us find her.”

  “Will there be a ransom?”

  “That will help.” Nick stepped away from the car, silently urging her to get in.

  She did at last, and he closed the door. Once he was around the vehicle and seated beside her, she turned to him.

  “I should have told someone about the SUV following me. That’s why this is my fault. If I had mentioned that car when I got to the courthouse...”

  “Provided the powers that be took you seriously.”

  “They would have taken my mom seriously.”

  “If she had told us she had a concern, which she did not.” He started the Mustang and headed for the exit. “We don’t even know for sure she had concerns, just your suspicions of it.”

  “I know. And it makes no sense she wouldn’t say something to the marshal service. She’s very security conscious. Still...” She speared her fingers into her hair and sighed. “Then again, she wouldn’t want to look silly if it came to nothing.” She rested her hands on her cheeks. “It’s all pointless now.”

  “Except for future reference.”

  “If she has a future.” Her voice did that strangled squeaky thing that told Nick she was worried or frightened or probably both.

  “We’ll see to it she has a future, Kristen.”

  She gazed out the window. “Where are you taking me?”

  “To the hospital on Harrison. The urgent care centers all seem to be closed by now.”

  Nine o’clock. The judge had been gone for three hours. She might be dead. Surely they were foolish criminals if they believed they would get away with harming a hair on a federal judge. But if law enforcement heard nothing within the next few hours, Nick feared for Her Honor.

  If he could have taken after that SUV instead of babysitting one perpetrator and the daughter, he might have caught them. Probably not in the traffic, but possibly.

  First he would get Kristen’s feet seen to and then take her home, wherever she lived. Federal agents would already be setting up at the judge’s house awaiting a ransom call or some kind of demand from the kidnapper. Once Kristen was there, Nick was free to go home.

  Home sounded wonderful. Food. His cat. A comfortable chair in which to relax.

  As if he could with the judge missing and this lovely young woman castigating herself over that disappearance.

  Maybe he should take her to his parents’ house, if Callahan would allow it. Miss Kristen Lang shouldn’t be alone. He would ask. First, he would get her to the emergency room.

  With light traffic, they reached the hospital two miles away in no time. On a weeknight the emergency room wasn’t busy. Shortly after their arrival, Kristen was in a wheelchair and whisked to a bed.

  “You can go now,” she told him. “I can call someone to take me home.”

  “Sorry, but I can’t leave you until you’re home.” Nick crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

  “Is she a prisoner?” a nurse asked.

  “She’s a victim under protective custody for the moment. But just her feet need taken care of.”

  The nurse asked Kristen if that was true. When she nodded, shooting Nick a glare, a doctor came in, looked at her battered feet, then issued orders. The staff got to work cleansing, bandaging, giving tetanus and antibiotic shots. Through it all, Kristen lay on the gurney with her face a mask, her eyes squeezed shut, and Nick remained in his stance against the wall—

  Until his cell rang.

  “Excuse me.” He started to leave the cubicle.

  Kristen shot upright and grabbed his arm. “Is it to do with my mother?”

  “I won’t know until I answer.” Nick patted her hand and slipped down the corridor.

  The call was about her mother. What Nick learned left him leaning against another wall, his hands balled into fists at his sides, every calming technique he knew employed to make him appear passive when he returned to Kristen.

  Those blue eyes collided with his the instant he stepped into her cubicle. “What?” Her voice was a mere breath.

  “Not until we’re away from here.”

  He wasn’t discussing this in front of hospital personnel or patients.

  “We’re done.” Kristen swung her legs over the side of the gurney.

  The nurse appeared from nowhere. “You can’t walk on those feet.”

  “I can’t stay. I must get out of here. I can’t... I won’t...” She pressed her hand to her chest, her words growing faster, her breathing shallow.

  “I’ll get the doctor.” The nurse sped off on nearly silent feet.

  “Easy there.” Nick clasped Kristen’s hands in his. “If you have a panic attack, they may admit you.”

  “I can’t breathe in here.” She tugged one hand free and clutched at her throat.

  “I’ll fetch a chair.” Nick released her other hand and found a wheelchair in the corridor.

  “You can’t take that,” an orderly called down the hallway.

  Nick ignored him and helped Kristen into the chair. With the orderly and nurse calling after them, Nick whisked Kristen from the emergency room and out to his car. His credentials had stopped security from having his vehicle towed, so they didn’t have far to go. In moments, Kristen was buckled into the passenger seat and Nick behind the wheel.

  He only drove as far as the exit before pulling over and turning to Kristen. “We’ve heard a ransom demand of sorts.”

  “Of sorts? What does that mean?” Her blue eyes were enormous dark pools in the glow of the dashboard and security lights. “Too little money to be legitimate? Passage out of the country?”

  “You.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  Nick took a deep breath, nearly choking on the lingering odors of the hospital clinging to them—and the words he had to impart to this lovely, anxious woman. “The kidnappers called your phone while it was in the marshal’s office. They want you in exchange for your mother alive.”

  THREE

  Kristen didn’t have time to fall apart. As much as she wanted to crumple into as small a ball as a woman who was five feet ten inches could, she understood with the sensible part of her brain she must remain calm, composed, logical.

  The rest of her brain shoved the sensible bit aside like a snowplow clearing a road and barreled over any notions of not drawing in on herself. She pulled her knees t
o her chest, a tight fit in the sports car. With her shins resting against the glove compartment she could barely wrap her arms around her knees and lower her head. Her hair, a tangled, still-damp mass, curtained her face so she didn’t have to look at headlights flashing by on the street or Nick’s face displaying what was more than likely impatience or disgust.

  The sensible portion of Kristen’s brain registered impatience and disgust with her upright fetal position. But they were weakly expressed emotions, too feeble to overpower the deep aching horror ripping a hole in her heart and through to her soul.

  Two men had kidnapped her mother instead of her. Yet they wanted her, not her mother.

  “I should have known something was up when that SUV kept following me.” The words squeezed out of her constricted throat. “I should have told you about it. I should have told Mom about it. But I couldn’t think why anyone would want me. I still don’t know why. Now...if anything happens to her...” She couldn’t continue with the thought. She couldn’t think about anything happening to her mother, especially when that anything would be her fault.

  “Kristen.” Nick’s voice was low and gentle, calming. “We are doing everything we can to ensure nothing happens to your mother.”

  “They want me.” She spoke to her lap. “You can get my mother back by giving them me.”

  “Out of the question.”

  Of course it was. No one would think of giving criminals what they wanted—her. Her, a nobody, with her unimportant—by the world’s standards—job. Two men wanted her so badly they risked kidnapping a federal judge in an attempt to get Kristen in the bargain, though she couldn’t imagine why. She must be forgetting something, but in trying to recall anything she had said or done that would anger criminals to such an extent, her head spun like a lazy Susan full of sand rather than spices.

  The smallness of the car struck her then, how the seat pressed against her back, the dashboard against her legs and the door against her side. The car was too small for two taller-than-average adults, especially when one of them was a broad-shouldered male. He took up too much of the space, too much of the oxygen. She could not breathe.