No Chance

by Christy Reece

  Even once he got past her guard dogs, seeing her wouldn’t be easy. A man didn’t forget a woman like Skylar James, no matter how deceitful and self-absorbed she was. It’d been five years since he’d seen her in person—if standing on a street corner a hundred yards away counted as seeing her. Eight years since he’d talked to her … on the freaking phone. Eight years and four days since he’d been stupid enough to marry her.

  It was time to get on with the rest of his life. The yearlong job he’d been on was almost at an end—the search for Rosemount’s people was almost over. Some very bad people had been put away, and fellow LCR operative Cole Mathison was close to getting the vengeance he deserved.

  Rosemount’s other victims were receiving the medical care they needed to overcome the abuse they’d suffered. Only one man still eluded them—the doctor responsible for the mind-destroying drug. Cole wouldn’t give up until the doctor was caught. He didn’t need Gabe for that. Cole was one of LCR’s best trackers. He could do this on his own, then call in reinforcements when the deal went down.

  Seeing Cole be able to close the door on that hellacious event and Ethan Bishop finally put his life back on track with Shea made Gabe realize he’d put off his own inevitable ending for too long. It was way past time to end what never should have happened in the first place.

  Barely paying attention to the hard-edged, grim-faced man in the mirror, Gabe shaved and slapped on some cooling gel. Returning to the bedroom, he slid into a pair of faded jeans and a black T-shirt. When he was on assignment, he dressed the way he had to, to fit the role. Given a choice, jeans and a T-shirt were what he preferred. It took him back to his simple roots, and as much as he liked to escape many of the memories, he couldn’t deny that dressing down was much more his personality than anything else.

  He pulled his duffel from the closet and threw in some clothes and toiletries. He didn’t know how long he’d be gone, but if he needed anything else, he’d buy it there. Traveling with the bare minimum was his preferred way. He wasn’t a man who needed much. The more you had, the more you had to lose. He’d learned that the hard way.

  Gabe grabbed his duffel and stalked out the door. He’d call Noah on the way to the airport. Not that McCall would be surprised. His boss had mentioned more than once that every LCR operative at some point had to deal with their past. Some sooner than others. The man knew what he was talking about—McCall had dealt with his own past a couple of years back.

  The sun glinted off the windshield of his mini–cabin cruiser tied to the dock—his home while he’d built his house. As usual, he stood and surveyed the area. Not that he expected intruders or any trouble, but life had taught him wariness at an early age. Other than the dead branches from a downed tree beating against the side of the dock, he saw nothing out of place. Satisfied, he jumped in, slipped on his sunglasses, and started the engine.

  Living on a tiny, remote island out in the middle of nowhere had several advantages. No neighbors, other than gators and snakes. The only interruption was the occasional boat looking for a bit of privacy or a good fishing spot. Gabe could handle a hungry gator or wayward boat a hell of a lot better than he could handle living in a large city. The smothering effect of thousands of people living on top of one another was his vision of hell. Revulsion shuddered through him.

  Salt-filled wind, scented with a hint of the coming rain, blasted into his face. He took long, cleansing breaths, appreciating, as always, the sheer luxury of fresh air and freedom, something he would never take for granted again.

  As he sped toward the island of Key West, he mentally reviewed his itinerary. Once he landed in New York, he’d head to her apartment. Since this was July and the wealthiest of New Yorkers summered elsewhere, he figured if he couldn’t catch her in the city, he’d find her at her family’s estate in the Hamptons.

  It wouldn’t be easy to get to her. Years ago, he’d given up trying to contact her. For someone who was on the news weekly, shown going to one party or another, she was one of the most untouchable people he’d ever known. So different from the young woman he thought he’d married. Seeing her on the television and in magazines, he found it hard to believe they were the same person. But she was excellent at pretend. Another lesson learned.

  Gabe puttered into the marina and nodded a thank-you to the tanned, sandy-haired kid who tied his boat to the dock. Grabbing his helmet, he jumped onto the dock and headed to his Harley. Parking at the marina wasn’t cheap, but with their tight security, it was perfect for him.

  He straddled the seat, but before he could put his helmet on, his cellphone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling the phone out, he checked the readout. Not surprised that it was Noah.

  “I was just about to call you.”

  “Where are you?” McCall asked.

  “Headed to the airport. There’s something I need to take care of.”

  “I need to see you.”

  “You’re in town?”

  “Yeah … meet me at the Marriott on Fielding Avenue … room 1213.”

  Gabe didn’t know what surprised him more—that his boss was in Florida or the hard-edged tone to his voice. It’d been a while since he’d heard that iron control. “What’s up?”

  “We’ll talk when you get here.”

  “If this is about a case, give it to someone else. I’ve been putting this off too long.”

  “Get here and we’ll talk. Ring me when you’re on your way up.”

  Noah ended the call before Gabe could respond.

  McCall’s abruptness didn’t concern him. When the man was in mission mode, politeness got put on the back burner. It was the oddity of his tone that intrigued Gabe; there was an edginess to it that Gabe couldn’t quite fathom.

  Taking time off shouldn’t be a concern. LCR operatives were free agents and could take off whenever they liked, though most of them were dedicated enough that taking vacation was a rarity. This was probably the first time in two or three years that he’d taken more than a day off. And even then, if McCall needed him back, he knew he only had to pick up the phone. Gabe, like almost every LCR employee, owed Noah his life. Besides, Gabe believed in this cause too much not to be available if need be.

  He didn’t like having to turn down a job, but this thing with Skye had been festering too long. It was way past time for it to end.

  * * *

  Noah McCall leaned back in his chair and studied the man across from him. He knew quite a bit about Jeremiah James. There were few people in the civilized world who hadn’t heard the man’s name—one of the movers and shakers in the business world, with more money than most people could fathom.

  “He’s on his way,” Noah said.

  The silver-headed man shook his head, the furrows around his mouth deepening with his frown. “Why can’t you do it? You’re supposed to be the best. I want you on the case.”

  “This man will get the job done better than anyone.”

  “Better than you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “You’ll see.”

  The man raised a shaky hand to wipe at his pale, damp forehead. “I don’t know. She’s too important—”

  “All of our clients are of utmost importance to us. And this man is one of my most valued operatives. He’s saved a hell of a lot of lives.”

  “Will he understand the need for discretion? If this news gets out … it would be a nightmare.”

  Noah examined the man closer. Few people could surprise him anymore, but for some reason, James did. He wasn’t an easy person to read. On the one hand, he seemed genuinely concerned; on the other hand, he was worried about the press. Question was, which concerned him more?

  “Media attention isn’t something LCR wants either,” Noah said.

  “But she’s one of the most recognizable people in the world. Are you sure he—”

  “Our operatives rescue people from all backgrounds, all economic levels. The wealthiest of victims and the poorest of victims receive the same pr
ofessional treatment. We have no interest in personalities, famous or otherwise. And this man is better at ignoring things like that than most.”

  “You make him sound like a machine. Everyone cares about things like that to a certain extent … some more than others.”

  Noah’s mouth tilted in a cool smile. “He’s as human as the next person. He just understands his priorities better than most.”

  James dabbed at his damp forehead again. Though he was known to be ruthless in the boardroom and heartless when it came to his competitors, the older man’s dilated eyes and perspiration indicated that where his daughter was concerned, he appeared to have genuine affection. Noah would soon know for sure. Seeing Gabe would either make the man balk or reveal that his daughter’s welfare was the most important factor, no matter who the rescuer was.

  Noah had no compunction about surprising James. The man’s reaction would be key to the mission. However, he did suffer a blip of conscience that Gabe would be caught off guard also. While that couldn’t be helped, Noah had a small amount of regret that one of his best men would soon be getting some disturbing news and it would be delivered by a man Noah knew Gabe despised.

  The soft buzz of his phone alerted him. Gabe’s signal that he was on his way up.

  Jeremiah James heard the sound and stood, his anxiousness at meeting the man who would save his daughter apparent.

  Noah remained slumped in his chair, unmoving. When several minutes passed and Gabe still hadn’t come through the door, James dropped back into his chair and snapped, “Why is it taking so long?”

  Noah didn’t answer. His operative’s need to take the stairs was Gabe’s business and no one else’s. Gabe didn’t owe anyone an explanation, least of all this man.

  A soft knock and then the door swung open.

  Gabe closed the door behind him and headed toward Noah, who stood waiting for him. Though reading Noah McCall was like trying to read a brick wall, Gabe could tell he was disturbed about something. “What’s up, you sounded—”

  Halfway across the room, Gabe jerked to a halt as the silver-haired man sitting in front of Noah stood and turned. A man he knew all too well. And one he’d hoped never to see again. He was older … his hair now completely silver as opposed to the salt and pepper it’d been eight years ago. The lines on his face had increased and his posture was more stooped, but he would recognize him anywhere. Hard to forget the man who’d had a hand in destroying the last of his dreams. Jeremiah James, his father-in-law.

  Gabe shot a glare at his boss. “What the hell’s going on?”

  McCall didn’t bother to prevaricate. “I believe you and Mr. James know each other.”

  James frowned in concentration. His confusion obvious, he slowly walked toward Gabe. The instant he recognized him, shock replaced the arrogant look Gabe remembered all too well.

  Though his father-in-law might look eight years older, between the two of them, Gabe knew he’d changed the most. Gone was the idealistic young man who’d felt he had the world at his feet when he was with the woman he loved. A cold, hardened man stood in his place.

  James stopped a couple of feet from Gabe and said, “Maddox?”

  “The one and the same,” Gabe answered softly.

  James whirled around and snapped, “What the hell’s going on here?”

  McCall’s enigmatic expression never changed. “This is the man we spoke of.”

  “No.” His head shook violently. “No way is this man going to save my daughter.”

  Gabe stiffened. “What are you talking about? Something’s happened to Skye?”

  James jerked his head to glare at Gabe. “She doesn’t like to be called Skye.” Turning back to Noah, James barked, “Get me somebody else. I don’t want this man anywhere near my daughter.”

  Grabbing the older man’s shoulder, Gabe twisted him around. “What’s happened to Skye?”

  James continued to glare and pressed his lips together, making it clear he didn’t want to give Gabe any answers.

  Noah answered for him. “Skylar’s been kidnapped, Gabe. Mr. James has come to LCR for help.”

  “When? How?”

  Jeremiah James had been a tough, mean bastard the one time he met him, and Gabe could tell the man hadn’t gotten any nicer. But to put his daughter’s life on the line because of his prejudice seemed extreme even for him.

  Noah growled at the man being so stubbornly silent. “James, Gabe’s the best man to save your daughter. Are you going to let your personal differences get in the way of saving Skylar’s life?”

  James swallowed audibly; the look he gave both men was almost panicked. “There’s got to be someone else.”

  Gabe glared at his father-in-law. “I’m going to give you one warning and that’s it. Tell me what’s happened to Skye.”

  Arrogance returned to James’s expression. “Or what?”

  Gabe moved, putting his face inches from his father-in-law’s. “You really going to stand there and preen while your little girl’s in trouble?”

  Faded blue eyes examined Gabe. Though they were dulled with age and grief, Gabe saw in them Skylar’s eyes. Finally, James’s shoulders drooped. “Are you sure you can get her?”

  Without even knowing the details, Gabe didn’t hesitate in answering, “There’s no one more qualified.”

  His sigh full of weary resignation, James walked back to his chair and dropped into it. “Eight days ago, Skylar didn’t show up for a benefit dinner. One she attends every year. I became concerned … went to her apartment. It was empty. Her chauffeur, who’s also her bodyguard, had disappeared, too. I wasn’t too worried, because she does that sometimes.”

  “Does what?” Gabe asked.

  His shoulders raised in a tired shrug. “Disappears from time to time … to get away from the media frenzy that always surrounds her. She cuts off all communication.”

  “And now you think it’s something else?”

  “I left numerous voice messages. Again that didn’t worry me too much.” His eyes darted away briefly. “Sometimes she ignores my calls.”

  Why Skylar avoided her father was her own business, so he didn’t question the man’s guilty look. He had only one priority.

  “What makes you think this is different?”

  “Two days ago she missed another benefit dinner. The cause not only meant a lot to her, she was one of the honorees and is on the board of directors. She never would have missed it unless something had happened.”

  The visible shudder that went through James’s body worried Gabe a hell of a lot more than his words. Something else had happened.

  “What?” Gabe asked softly.

  Noah handed Gabe a piece of paper from his desk. “Mr. James found this folded in his newspaper yesterday morning.”

  Refusing to acknowledge the alarm clamoring toward explosion inside him, Gabe read the printed words:

  We have your daughter. If you ever want to see her alive again, deposit ten million dollars into account 39482894J, Mid-Central Bank, by ten A.M. Friday. Tell the police and she dies. Tell anyone, she dies. Once we have the money, we’ll be in touch on where you can retrieve your daughter. Whether you retrieve her alive or dead is entirely up to you.

  Gabe tore his eyes away from the note to glance at his watch. Today was Monday. Two questions sprang to his mind. Why give James almost a week to come up with the money? And how the hell was Gabe going to find her in such a short amount of time?

  “I barely had time to comprehend the note when a package was delivered to the door.” James nodded toward the television set in the corner. “McCall, would you play it again?”

  Noah picked up a remote and pressed play.

  The picture was dark and wobbly, as if whoever held the camera was either nervous or an amateur. For several seconds, the image was out of focus, but then it became heart-stoppingly clear.

  A woman sat slumped in a chair with a gag over her mouth. Long strands of mahogany hair hanging in her face hid her identity, until on
e of the men grabbed a handful of hair and jerked her face up for the camera. Normally creamy skin, mottled with bruises and cuts, was starkly white. Two men stood on either side of her, their faces covered with hoods. Each man held a Glock in his hand, pointed at the woman’s head. Not just any woman, though. Skye. Skylar James … Maddox. His wife.

  Gabe wasn’t one to panic or give in to fear. That kind of emotion had been smothered out of him years ago. He was known for his cold, calculating analysis of an operation. Everything around him might be in a frenzy, but that never fazed Gabe.

  Skye hadn’t been a part of his life for a long time. She was no longer the woman he’d married. Hell, she’d never been the woman he thought he married. This was just another case. Another missing person that he’d been assigned to rescue. Nothing more.

  The fact that the woman’s face was bruised and swollen and the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut was dilated and glazed, indicating she’d been drugged, didn’t matter. Couldn’t matter.

  He shot a glance at James. “Any reason to believe they’re targeting you for another reason besides the money?”

  “You mean, does someone have a grudge against me?”

  Gabe nodded. He had a major grudge against this man and was willing to bet he wasn’t the only one.

  “I have business acquaintances who may hate me, but not enough to use my daughter as a pawn.”

  “You’ve told no one?”

  “No.”

  He studied the older man. James was wealthy beyond most people’s imaginings. In his world, money fixed problems. “So why take the chance with us? Why not just pay the ransom?”

  When he seemed to hesitate to answer, Gabe felt a punch to his gut. “You don’t want to have to pay the money?”