It was a low blow and he felt every bit of it. “I’ll let it go when you’re dead.”
His father sighed. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said as if he’d just revealed that he still believed in Santa Claus. “As soon as Michael completes the task I’ve set him, he’ll be moving on to deal with the Reyes situation. I assure you, she’s completely safe until then.”
Task. What the hell had his father forced Michael into? Instead of asking, he let it go. If his father wanted him to know then he would. Asking wouldn’t change a thing. “Let me help her,” he said, plugging the hole in the nipple with his pointer before giving the bottle a good shake. “Put me on a plane. I can be there within—”
“Stop trying to save everyone. The role of hero is one you are ill-equipped for,” his father said before hanging up on him.
He chewed on that and what it might meanwhile he climbed the stairs to the nursery. As soon as he stepped through the doorway, Alex re-positioned Lucy in his arms before reaching for the bottle. He could hear Val retching and imagined her bent over the toilet, trying to get rid of whatever Courtney hit her with.
“Yavlyayetsya li ona budet v poryadke?” Is she going to be okay?
Ben nodded while he handed the bottle over. “Da , s ney vse budet prosto otlichno.”
Yeah, she’s gonna be just fine.
He could lie in eight different languages… his father would be so proud.
67
The room Reyes’ guards led her to was hardly a dudgeon. With its huge four-poster canopy bed and coffered ceilings, it looked like the executive suite at a five-star hotel.
But Sabrina recognized a prison when she saw one.
Standing in the middle of the room she counted eight surveillance cameras that were activated by motion sensors. Every move she made was being monitored… which would make retrieving her weapons nearly impossible.
What was she going to do? How in the hell was she supposed to save the senator’s grandson when she was just as much a prisoner as he was?
The answer was simple: she couldn’t.
What did Shaw expect her to do? She was a cop, not some highly-trained operative. Stealth was hardly one of her strong suits.
Sabrina sat down on the edge of the bed and carefully took in her surroundings and wondered if Leo Maddox was being kept in a similar fashion. Was he locked away in some posh room somewhere close by or was he being held captive in a cage like Alex Kotko had been?
A knock sounded at the door and she stood, seconds before a key as inserted and the door was opened. A young girl of about twelve or thirteen stood in the doorway, her hair pulled back into a tight tail at the nape her neck, the wild, dark curling mass of it falling nearly to her waist. She was slender, bordering on scrawny, all limbs and wide, expressive eyes.
“The cameras are visual only. No audio,” the girl said without preamble, cruising the room with an air of familiarity. “And the man assigned to watch them is lazy. As long as you appear to behave, my father will never know otherwise.”
My father… “Christina,” Hope jittered inside her chest, too stupid to know better. “Christina Reyes?”
The girl went still, a wary expression on her face. “Yes. How do you know me?”
“Michael speaks very highly of you.”
No response.
“Christina?”
“He talks about me?” the girl said. “I’d begun to think… I thought my father killed him.”
Sabrina shook her head. “No. Michael’s alive.”
An understanding she was too young to harbor settled into Christina’s face. “That’s why my father brought you… to lure him back to the island.”
She looked up and over, eyes trained instantly on the security camera perched in the corner, above the girl’s shoulder. “I don’t think you should be here. Your father made it clear that there would be consequences if I broke the rules.” What would happen now that Alberto Reyes daughter had introduced herself to her father’s kidnapping victim. It wasn’t something she was eager to find out.
Christina took a slow turn around the room, ignoring her protests. “This was my mother’s room,” she said softly as if any louder would disturb the ghost that lived within the walls that held them. She wandered over to the vanity to trail a finger along the gleaming line of a silver-plated brush, turning it over. Something rattled softly inside the handle. “Her things are still here… sometimes I think she is too.”
The mention of her mother, snapped Sabrina out of whatever insane plan she’d been harboring. She couldn’t get this girl involved. Not after what Reyes had done to her mother. “Christina, please—there’s no time. You need to leave.”
“I was sent by my father to invite you to dinner,” the girl said calmly, turning to look at her. “I would…we would very much like your company.”
Sabrina looked at the porcelain clock perched on the mantle. It was seven o’clock. Food was the last thing she wanted but this was a chance to get out. To get a look at the layout of the house. To see if she could figure out where Reyes was holding the Maddox boy.
“Okay,” Sabrina said, heading toward the bathroom. “Just give me a moment to freshen up.”
In the bathroom, a cursory glance revealed a camera mounted in the corner, facing the toilet. She’d be willing to bet money there was one in the shower as well. No possible way she’d be able to retrieve her weapons in here.
Sabrina used the restroom while staring into the camera before washing her hands. She splashed cold water onto her face and dried them both on a thick white towel. Her jaw was tender from where it’d connected with Reyes’ hand. The corner of her mouth was cut, the blood leaked from it stained the towel she used. Sabrina dropped the towel on the floor and exited the bathroom without giving the camera another glance.
Christina was sitting on the rose-colored settee, hands folded into her lap. She looked up, a faint smile on her lips. She looked nothing like her father—her eyes were wide and expressive, so dark her iris and pupil blended almost seamlessly.
“I’m ready,” she said and Christina stood, nodding.
The young woman crossed the room to the door and opened it. It was unlocked. “Follow me.” Christina said quietly as she pulled her door shut.
“Thank you,” she said, unsure of what else to say. Unsure if she was reading the girl correctly.
“Many things changed after my mother’s death… my father has become very paranoid.”
Christina led her down a wide, dimly lit hallway, turning here and there, leading her deeper and deeper into the house. “He trusts no one. All guards and household staff are shuttle off the island after dinner and living quarters are equipped with timed locks. They are engaged at 9 p.m. and released at 6 a.m. If you’re caught outside your room between those times, you’ll be shot.”
“What about you? If you’re caught sneaking around, will you be shot too?”
The girl looked up at her, her expression carefully drawn blank. “There’s no exceptions.”
“If there are no guards at night, them who’s going to stop me?” she said, unable to curb the insolent tone that crept into her voice.
The girl didn’t look at her, instead choosing to stare straight ahead as she walked. “There are cameras everywhere except for my father’s study and his living quarters. No matter where you are, you are always watched. If you’re caught wandering, someone will kill you.”
Sabrina followed along quietly, so many questions begging to be answered that, for a moment, she found herself unable to ask any at all. Finally, she spoke. “Your father blames Michael for your mother’s death. Do you? Blame him?” The question seemed ridiculous when there were a million other she could be asking but she had to know if this girl could be trusted if and when the time came to defy her father.
“The person I blame is beyond my reach,” Christina said, casting her a glance. “No matter the face he chooses to show you, my father is very dangerous. Do not forget and do not defy him.”
She stopped in front of a set of heavy double doors and pushed them open.
Sitting at a long dining room table, laden with china and crystal, was Alberto Reyes. He’d changed into a pair of creamy white linen pants and a silk button-down, casually open at the throat. “Sabrina,” he said warmly, standing as she came into the room. “I am so glad you agreed to join us.” He beamed at her but like his tone, it was nothing more than pretend. The smile, the solicitous cadence of his voice —it was all a lie.
Before she could say a word, he continued, holding his hand out to someone behind a large centerpiece in the center of the table. “Come, say hello to our guest.”
A small blond head peeked around the polished silver urn that held the flowers. Leo Maddox looked at her, his green eyes flat and hollow. “Hello,” he said quietly. “Are you here to take me home?”
68
Sabrina took a seat at the table across from Leo, pushing the centerpiece to the right so she could see his face. He looked dull, like he’d been drugged or like maybe after nearly a month, he’d given up hope of ever seeing his family again.
She could relate.
“Leo,” she said, well aware that Reyes still stood over her, watching and listening to everything she did and said. “Leo, I need you to listen to me, okay?”
The little boy looked up from his empty plate, his flat gaze trained on her face. Before she could speak, Reyes cut in.
“Choose your words wisely, Sabrina,” he murmured, taking his seat at the head of the table. “The wrong ones will cost you both.”
“You’re not alone,” she said, struggling to keep a balance between giving him hope and saying something that would set Reyes off. On impulse she reached out and gripped the hand of the girl sitting beside her, squeezing it beneath the table before letting it go. “Not anymore.”
“And what will you do now that you’re here, Sabrina?” He said, baiting her. “How will you save the day?”
Kill you, for starters.
“If you know me as well as you think you do, Alberto, then you know that I’ve been here before,” She said, fighting to keep her tone light. “As for saving the day… I’m sure I’ll think of something.”
The look he gave her told that there would be a price to pay for her insolence. “No more talking,” Reyes said, ringing a silver bell that waited next to an empty wine glass. Instantly, a small army of servants pushed through a door, each carrying trays and dishes of food.
Sabrina watched silently as these dishes and trays were passed around. Reyes was served first, servants nearly falling over themselves to please him.
Each time they came her way she shook her head no, they would look to him for direction and he’d nod. They scooped and piled food onto the plate in front of her before depositing dishes onto the sideboard behind her.
Sabrina kept her hands in her lap.
“Don’t be stubborn, cariña,” Reyes said, raising his fork to his mouth to take a bite. “You’ll need your strength if you’re going to play the hero, yes?”
Sabrina looked down at her plate. Beef Wellington. Asparagus. Herbed potatoes. Leo was watching her from across the table, his eyes once again flat and vacant. She picked up her fork, using its tines to spear a potato. She winked at him and shoved it into her mouth, eliciting no more than a ghost of a smile from him.
But it was enough.
“Our guest is a friend of El Cartero—you remember him, don’t you, Christina?” Reyes said, choosing to ignore her small rebellion.
The potato in her mouth turned to glue as she watched the girl beside her. Christina took a small sip of water before nodding. “Yes, father,” she said without looking at him.
“He’ll be coming soon—you’d like that wouldn’t you, Christina?” Reyes said, his voice dangerously soft. “To see your old friend again?”
She looked at him then, her eyes finding her father’s face and Sabrina felt her heart seize in her chest with the insane urge to slap a hand over the girl’s mouth to stop her from speaking.
“Yes, father,” she said—the same words as before but in a tone that narrowed Reyes’ eyes. Christina wasn’t just paying her father lip service. She was defying him.
Small rebellions, it seemed, were going to be their undoing.
69
San Francisco, California
Ben dialed Reese’s cell number and listened to it ring. He’d been calling him every fifteen minutes, ever since he’d hung up with Sabrina’s sexy doctor friend and he was going to keep calling until that son-of-a-bitch answered.
He wanted his goddamned plane back.
Again, the pilot’s voicemail took over and he disconnected the call without leaving a message, dropping his phone on the counter. Beside him, Avasa whined, pressing her head into his knee and he dropped his hand to give her head an absentminded pat. “Don’t worry, girl. Sabrina’s gonna be okay. They both will.”
“You talk to dogs. Is that a perk of being raised by wolves?”
He turned toward the doorway connecting the dining room and kitchen to see Mandy Black standing in the doorway.
“One of many,” he said, picking up his phone and slipping it into his pocket. “Thanks for coming.”
She shrugged. “I didn’t do it for you,” she said, entering the room. “Besides, I’m not sure what I can do to help.”
“My team consists of a Russian kidnapping victim, a worried dog, a woman who’s probably been roofied and a baby,” he said. “Right now, you’re my star player.”
Mandy sank into one of the kitchen chairs, gnawing on her bottom lip. “Where’s Strickland? Nickels? Since it was his wife who was roofied, he should be here don’t you think?”
Ben leaned against the counter, rubbing a thumb across his forehead in an attempt to chase away the headache that was threatening to settle in. “I don’t know.”
“Then that’s what I can do,” she said, pulling out her phone.
“What’s that?”
She gave him a half-hearted smile while dialing her phone. “Recruit better players.”
_____
Within twenty minutes, the kitchen door banged open, Nickels rushing through it, followed by Sabrina’s partner. “Where is she? Where’s my wife? Lucy?” Nickels demanded, eyes wheeling from face to face.
Mandy stood. “She’s upstairs and she’s fine. They both are. They’re sleeping.”
“Vaughn?” Strickland bounced a look between him and the doctor. “Where is she?”
He took a moment to quiet the emotion that the cop’s question brought to the surface. “I’m not a hundred percent sure but if I had to take a guess—Columbia.”
“Columbia?” Strickland’s glare zeroed in on him. “Reyes took her?” he looked at Mandy. “Is that what happened?”
Took her? No, my father delivered her like a fucking pizza… “Pretty much,” he said. “I’m working to get a bead on her location. We should know within the hour.” Another lie but he just threw it onto the pile along with the other ones he’d told.
“Where’s O’Shea?” Nickels said, jaw locked at a dangerous angle.
“Gone.”
“Gone…” Nickels turned toward Strickland, a harsh bark of laughter ripped out of his throat. “What did I tell you?” He swung his glare back around to settle it on Ben. “I guess his work here was done, huh?”
“Careful, cop.” Ben stood up from the table, leaning across it. “This is your fault, not his.”
Nickels jaw slammed shut and it took him a second to recover. “What did you just say?”
“Oh, I think you heard me—he told you to get them out of here and yet here you all are.” Ben skirted his way around the table until he was nearly nose to nose with cop. “If you’d done what he’d told you to do, your wife and child wouldn’t have been available to be used as leverage against Sabrina to get her to leave,” he said, thumping Nickels in the chest with his pointer. “This isn’t on Michael. This is on you.”
For just a second, it looked like
the cop was going to take a swing at him but in the end his shoulders slumped, the fight suddenly gone. “What can I do now?”
Ben took a step back. “Nothing. The damage is already done. Go be with your wife and stay the fuck outta my way.” His phone rang, letting out the first few notes of Fly Me to the Moon, by Sinatra. He moved into the dining room without excusing himself so he could answer it.
“That kooky bitch better have a gun to your head, Harrison,” he all by growled into the phone. “Because that’s the only acceptable excuse for bouncing my calls into voice mail for nearly two hours straight.”
“Look, I’m sorry—”
“You allowed my father’s minion to hijack my plane. We passed sorry a long time ago.”
Harrison sighed. “It was a direct order from your father, Ben—what did you want me to do?”
He was right. Ben took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Just tell me she’s okay,” he said. They both knew he wasn’t talking about his plane.
“Last I saw her, she was fine.”
“Okay. Great. Fuel up and come get me,” Ben said but his order was met with silence. “Reese.”
“Yeah—still here.”
“I want my plane back,” he said through clenched teeth.
A shifting—an uncomfortable sound. Almost restless. “I can’t.”
Not the words he wanted to hear. “What do you mean, you can’t?”
“I mean, I can’t. You know how you said earlier that the only acceptable excuse for ignoring you calls was if that kooky bitch has a gun to my head?”
Ben sighed. “Yes.”
“Well, it’s not pointed at my head. It’s pointed at my johnson. You’re going to have to find your own ride here because she says we’re not going anywhere.”
“Where is here?”
“An airfield just east of El Valle, Columbia,” Reese said, rambling off coordinates.
“Have you seen Michael? Is he there yet?”
Another round of silence, like he was waiting for permission to answer. Church was listening in. “He’s not here yet. There were other things he needed to do before your father would clear him to go after Reyes.”
The Sabrina Vaughn series Set 2 Page 26