Code of Valor

by Lynette Eason

  “Most people have technology in their homes. You’re a workaholic. That means you most likely work from home. And chances are you work on a laptop. Probably a work-issued one.” He slid her a sideways glance. “Right?”

  “You baffle me.”

  “Why?”

  “You just seem to know too much about me. It’s weird. And creepy.”

  “Not so weird or creepy. You’re the one who said you were working late the night you were snatched and—”

  “And I said I didn’t have anything to hurry home to.”

  “Yeah.”

  A small smile curved her lips and she shook her head. “Do you remember every single detail of every conversation?”

  “Just the ones that interest me.”

  “Oh.” She seemed to find that intriguing, even though her frown deepened.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Just thinking about Heather.”

  “What about her?”

  “When I gave her the information I’d found and asked her to look into it, she came back and said something was definitely not right and to give her a couple of days to see what else she could discover.”

  “What’d she find?”

  “She followed the trail of the deposits, noting the branches and times they were going in. Based on that information, she picked one branch and waited until she saw the guy making the deposit.”

  Brady frowned. “That could have been really dangerous.”

  “I agree and I told her so, but she insisted she was perfectly safe sitting in her car and watching an ATM. Anyway, she followed him home and figured out his name was Martin Burnett. We looked him up and he is a bad, bad, very bad man.”

  “So you went to the police with your info, right?” he asked.

  “Not exactly.” She sighed. “Heather convinced me that we could get more. She wanted to stay with this Martin Burnett guy and see if he would lead her to someone higher up.”

  “Higher up?”

  Emily pressed her fingers to her eyes for a moment. “She was convinced we were dealing with a money trail for human traffickers and wanted to bust the ring and whoever was at the top of the chain. Burnett was just an errand boy. I was still following the money and not liking the activity I was seeing on the accounts of some of our well-established clients. I planned do a little more digging, then turn everything I had over to the police after I talked to my boss about it on Monday. The next thing I know, I’m waking up in a boathouse with Owen Parker standing over me.” She shuddered.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She bit her lip. “And now my mother and sister could be in danger and Heather’s missing—or worse.”

  “I’ll admit I’m concerned. I think it’s time to file a missing person report if her parents haven’t already done so.”

  She nodded.

  “And,” he added, “we don’t know your mom and sister are in danger.”

  She met his gaze when he briefly glanced at her before turning his attention back to the road. “You may not, but I do.” She raked a hand through her hair. “Can’t we go any faster?”

  “No, sorry.” His phone rang and the Bluetooth activated. “What is it, Derek?”

  “Had an officer drive by the house and it appears to be empty. No sign of any disturbance. Should they knock or go in and check it out?”

  “No, don’t do either one,” Emily said.

  “Why not?” Brady frowned at her.

  “My mother is . . . she’s . . . well . . . if the cops are wearing uniforms, it could set her off. She hates cops.”

  “I see.”

  “Tell them to see if anything looks off. If not, wait for me. Again, I know where a key is if she hasn’t changed where she put it.”

  In a few seconds, Derek came back on the line. “Everything looks quiet. No sign of anyone at home.”

  She rubbed her forehead. “Could I be wrong about the picture?”

  “We’re here, so let’s go find out.”

  Emily shot out of the car and raced up to the front door where she reached above the door and pulled the spare key down. Brady stayed right with her just in case. Telling her to wait on him would be useless.

  “Her car’s not here,” she said. She sounded slightly breathless.

  “That could be a good sign.”

  “Maybe.” She opened the door and pushed it in. “Mom?”

  No answer.

  She started forward, but Brady caught her arm, pulling her to a stop. He noted Derek and Linc right behind them. “Let me clear this,” he said to her. “Just like the last couple of times. Only stay on the porch with Linc, okay?” He shot his brother a look and Linc nodded while Derek stepped inside.

  Brady raised a brow and she nodded, wrapping her arms around her middle. Knowing she was safe with his brother, Brady gave his knee some test weight and decided he would be all right. He followed after Derek into a small living area. The kitchen was to the left. The hallway to the right.

  “Clear in here,” Derek said. “Hall bath is clear too.”

  Brady kept going through the home. It was neat. Nothing out of place. At the end of the hall, the bedroom door was cracked. He caught Derek’s eye and his brother nodded, raised his weapon.

  Using his elbow, Brady nudged the door all the way open.

  And found the room empty.

  Emily stepped inside once Brady gave the all clear. She sat on the sofa and lowered her head into her hands. What did the picture mean? Anything? She still couldn’t call her mother and ask because she didn’t have the number—or her phone with the number in it. So stupid. So utterly stupid. She knew Heather’s number. Could recite it as fast as her own. But not her mother’s. Shame curled through her, but she pushed it aside. She’d had her reasons for staying away. Good reasons. Real reasons. However, at this very moment, she wished with all her heart she’d found a reason to come home.

  “You could get my mother’s number, couldn’t you?” she asked Linc, who’d walked to the porch door to look out. “Her cell number?”

  “I could.”

  “Would you?”

  “Is it unlisted? I’d have to get a subpoena if it is.”

  “Oh. Right. Of course.”

  “What about on your old phone?”

  She hesitated. “I’m not sure.”

  “Okay if I request the records? All I need is your permission.”

  “Yes, please.”

  He pulled his phone from the clip on his belt.

  Emily let her eyes roam the room, touching on the family photos on the mantel, then the collection of mugs on the first shelf of the bookcase next to the television. Her gaze traveled into the kitchen, noting the table, the pictures on the refrigerator. Wait. She froze and homed in on one, rose from the couch, and walked into the kitchen.

  It was the same picture that had been left on hers. With a glance over her shoulder, she noted that Linc was on the phone. Derek and Brady had moved into the living room and were talking about something. Now that they weren’t worried about someone jumping out and grabbing her or concerned they were going to walk into a hail of bullets, they’d relaxed a fraction.

  While they hadn’t noticed the picture, it had been right in her line of sight from her seat on the couch. She took it from under the magnet and had a moment of déjà vu. Then she flipped the photo over and found very small printed words. “We have them, but we want you. If you don’t want them to die, you’ll be waiting for our call in one hour for instructions on how the exchange will happen. Be alone. We are watching. No cops. If we see cops, your loved ones die. If you follow the instructions, they will be released. It’s that simple.”

  A smartphone lay on the counter next to the refrigerator. It wasn’t her mother’s. At least she didn’t think it was. She swiped the screen and found no password needed. A tap to the phone app showed no contact information, no dialed numbers, and no incoming calls.

  Swallowing against the nausea and fear clawing at the back of her t
hroat, she slid the phone into her pocket. Was that the phone they planned to call on? Or her cell phone? No, if these were the same people who’d kidnapped her and tried to kill her, they were the ones who had her cell phone. At least she assumed they did. It hadn’t been in her pocket where she’d had it when she’d awakened in the trunk.

  They’d know she’d need a phone if they wanted to call her and wouldn’t know about the new phone she had in her possession. So, they’d left her one.

  And now she had to fight through the terror clogging her thinking and make a decision. Did she tell Brady and the others or try to handle this alone? They’d said no cops, but how would they know?

  We are watching. Well, if they were watching, then they knew she’d entered the building with three cops. Or—at least three men. They wouldn’t necessarily know they were cops. Then again, a police cruiser had come by the house and an officer had checked it out. But it had left.

  Indecision swirled and she pressed her fingers against her forehead as she debated.

  Regardless, she was still confused. On the one hand they seemed to want her dead. On the other, they just seemed to want to grab her—keep her alive. They took her family to get to her. For what? So she would be easier to kill and they could stop hunting her down and just have her come to them? Most likely.

  Keeping the scream that wanted to escape stuffed down took effort, but she managed. Think. Think.

  “Emily?”

  She startled, then cleared her throat. “Yes?”

  “Anything else seem out of order?”

  “Uh. No. Nothing.” Everything! God, please, tell me what to do.

  When she got no answer either in feeling or spirit, she kept her mouth shut. She couldn’t take the chance that whoever had her mother and Sophia would know. No, they wouldn’t, and she couldn’t do this alone. “Someone’s taken them.”

  “We don’t know that.”

  Show him the note!

  “Yes, we do.” Tears leaked against her will. She uncurled her hand and passed him the picture that matched the one from her apartment.

  Taking it, he frowned. “What’s this?”

  “It was on the refrigerator. Read the back.”

  He did. “This is not good.”

  “No, it’s scary.”

  He raked a hand down his cheek. “That too. Linc?”

  “Yeah?”

  “We’re going to need a little more help.” He showed his brother the note.

  Linc sucked in a breath. “Okay, what phone are they going to call?”

  It was all she could do not to pull the phone from her pocket, but . . . no, she’d done enough. If she gave them the phone, it was possible she would be sealing her mother and Sophia’s deaths. “Maybe they don’t know that my original phone is at the bottom of the lake?” It was possible, but she wasn’t sure how.

  “I’ll get on this.” Linc tapped the screen and walked away, the device held to his ear.

  “While Linc’s making arrangements to find your mom and sister,” Brady said, “we’re going to work on a different angle.”

  “What angle?”

  “We probably just ruined any evidence or fingerprints on this, but I guess what we need to do is ask Parker about it. If he left the one at your place, he left the one here as well.”

  “But why leave the pictures? Why kidnap my mom and Sophia? I thought he was just there to . . . uh . . . make sure I disappeared for good. What’s the point in leaving the pictures for me—or someone else—to find?”

  “That would be a question for him.”

  “Then let’s ask him,” she said.

  He turned to Derek. Linc was still on the phone. “Let’s go down to the station where they’ve got Parker. I need to ask him a couple of questions.” He shook the picture. “They said they were going to call in an hour. What phone do they think they’re going to call?”

  Her mind went to the device in her front pocket. They said she needed to be alone when they called. She almost showed Brady and the others the phone, but she’d already shown them the note. If she showed them the phone, they’d want to listen in on the call. “Not sure,” she said.

  The lie wasn’t easy, and guilt immediately hammered her. These guys had been nothing but kind and helpful. Then again, it wasn’t an outright lie. She wasn’t exactly sure which phone they would call. She was just assuming it was the one in her pocket.

  She glanced at the picture again. Her mother smiled down at the little girl with a look of love Emily had never seen on her face before. Ever. It shook her more than she wanted to admit. And Sophia laughed up at her mother, obviously happy, with everything right in her world. At least at that particular moment.

  Against her better judgment, she decided she’d take the phone call and then figure out what to do from there. She couldn’t put her family’s lives in danger. She couldn’t take a chance—any more chances—that the people holding them would follow through on their threats if she didn’t do as instructed.

  “Let’s just go see if that guy Parker knows anything—or will say anything—about the pictures,” she said. “He was nervous—or maybe just plain scared—about the fact that the people who hired him to kill me knew that he’d been caught. Maybe he’ll be more inclined to talk now that he’s had time to think about it.”

  “It’s not a bad idea,” Derek said.

  Brady nodded. “We’ll add that to our list of questions when we interrogate him. I, for one, am anxious to start grilling the guy.”

  Linc clapped Brady on the shoulder. “Fine. We’ll follow you.”

  “I can handle this from here,” Brady said. “You guys don’t have to stay.”

  “Right,” Derek said. “We’ll meet you there.”

  Brady shook his head and didn’t argue. Emily had a feeling he knew it would be futile and that his brothers would do as they pleased. He cupped her elbow and escorted her out the door. She started to walk to the passenger side when a sharp crack pierced the air.

  Just as the pain in her arm registered, she found herself on the ground next to Brady’s fire-scarred truck with his body hovering over hers. Another bullet slammed into the side of the vehicle and Emily flinched, swallowing her scream. He had his weapon in his hand, but his eyes were on her. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes.”

  “Stay down.”

  He really didn’t have to tell her that. Fire arced through her arm and she gasped. She slapped a hand to the area and wetness coated her palm. The coppery smell of blood reached her. A glance at her hand confirmed her suspicion. She’d been shot.

  9

  Brady scanned the area and couldn’t see where the shot had come from. Derek and Linc had scattered at the initial pop. “Derek?” he hollered.

  “Going after him!”

  “Linc?”

  “Calling for backup!”

  With everyone accounted for, he turned back to Emily. Only to pull up short at the sight of her right hand clasping her left upper bicep. Blood covered both. “I thought you said you were okay.”

  Her pain-clouded eyes met his. “I just kind of realized I’m not.”

  “Linc! Call for an ambulance too!” Favoring his aching knee, he knelt beside Emily. “How bad is it?”

  “It hurts, but I don’t feel like I’m going to pass out from lack of blood or anything.”

  “That’s a good sign. I’m assuming anyway.”

  She huffed a short laugh, then squeezed her eyes shut. A tear leaked down and he swiped it away.

  “Just be strong a little longer, okay?” He heard the sirens screaming in the distance but didn’t figure it would take them long to arrive. “Help’s on the way.”

  “I heard. I’m fine.”

  Brady waited and finally heard the tires of the first cruiser roll to the curb. He peered around the front of his truck. Two more cruisers. He saw Derek slip out from behind a car and hold his badge in front of him. Linc did the same.

  Brady stayed put and waited with Emily, using
his hands to keep pressure on the wound. And finally, the ambulance arrived.

  Derek hurried over to him and he frowned when he spotted Emily’s arm. “She okay?”

  “I think it’s just a graze, but she’ll need to be seen. Did you see the shooter?”

  “No. He shot and ran.”

  “You see where the shots came from?” Brady asked.

  “Briefly.” Derek pointed. “I’m pretty sure he was on the roof of that service station across the street. By the time I got up there, he was gone. I lost him, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be,” Emily said. “We don’t need anyone else getting shot.” She shifted and grimaced.

  Brady tightened his hold and she jerked. “Sorry,” he said.

  “More help is coming,” Derek said. “We’ll have cops start canvassing the area. I spoke to the officer in charge and told him I didn’t hear a car or anything to indicate anyone was in a hurry to leave, so hopefully, the guy is on foot.”

  Brady helped Emily to her feet as a paramedic rushed over. “What do we have?”

  “Gunshot wound,” Brady said.

  “It’s just a graze, it’s fine,” Emily said.

  “Let me take a look anyway.”

  “No, we need to—”

  “The faster you let him look,” Brady said, “the faster we’ll be done.”

  Emily sighed and held her arm out. The paramedic led her to the back of the ambulance and proceeded to cut the sleeve of her shirt away from the wound. Emily sucked in through clenched teeth and turned her forearm facing down, hiding the scars.

  “You’re really taking a beating, aren’t you?” Brady said softly.

  She blinked at him. “What?”

  “Between your foot and your arm, you’ve got to be hurting.”

  “I am, but that’s okay. It means I’m alive.”

  “You’re a glass-half-full kinda girl, aren’t you?” Derek asked.

  A low laugh that might have been more of a snort escaped her. “Not really, but I’m working on it.”

  “She needs to go to the hospital and get this cleaned up,” the paramedic said. “I don’t think it needs any stitches, but the doc might disagree. Let’s get this going.”