“They took him somewhere else to finish the job.”
Knight thought of a few ways to approach this. She knew where to find Sergey and Anatolli, but evidence would be tough to find. And the law required proof.
They were typically found at Homeland Logistics which acted as a front for Dimitre’s shipments of weapons and drugs—again the substantiation was out of reach. Even when it appeared promising, the bastard would slip through the fingers of justice. Basically, the company handled the shipments, the customs paperwork and clearance, all of it from A to Z, ideal for a businessman like Petrov.
She had already gone over there to question them about Lexan’s disappearance and found herself treated to the same show—aloofness. It got her nowhere. Even if they were the guilty parties in Lexan’s abduction, nothing stood out and it had proven to be a huge waste of time.
“That apartment needs to be ripped apart. We need to find any clue we can to tie Calin to the Russians.”
“Why are you so certain it ties to the Russians?” Matthews asked.
“Call it a gut feeling if you want to.” Madison had dedicated the beginning to her career to bringing them down. She wouldn’t stop until she had, but for right now, she had to make the call she dreaded, the one that admitted defeat, a dead end.
Unless they could prove that Sergey or Anatolli were in Calin’s apartment, no judge would issue a warrant for the search of the business premises. Lexan could be imprisoned in one of the rooms right now and she was powerless. But her gut told her it was likely too late for the defense attorney anyway, just as it would be for Calin.
“THE POLICE HAVE TIED THE phone call back to Calin at this point, but we beat them to it. See, my friend, we haven’t lost it all together.” Sergey smiled smugly and let his focus drift out over the water.
“I’m sure Knight’s right in the middle of the action too. I don’t know why Dimitre never had us kill her,” Anatolli said. “It would be all too easy to make it look like an accident.”
“It’s unfortunate for us, but Dimitre likes to play with her. She’s entertainment value for him. Besides right now we have to stick to the plan and finish this.” Sergey gestured to the dead body. “And have this cleaned up.”
JESSICA TAPPED HER FINGERS IMPATIENTLY on the desk. The phone rang for the fifth time. Didn’t this woman have an answering machine?
Jessica had to do a bit of investigative work to get this number. Given their last encounter, she procrastinated about making this call. She hadn’t seen or talked to her since that day in the restaurant, but Colleen deserved to know her friend and former business partner was missing.
“Hello.” A woman answered.
“I’m looking for Colleen Clive.”
“This is.”
“Colleen, it’s Jessica.” Silence followed that announcement. “I have something I need to tell you.” Hearing Colleen’s voice reduced the bitterness Jessica had harbored in the last week. Any issue she had with the woman now paled in its significance.
“Sure.” Her tone of voice had changed from aggravation to one of somewhat bewilderment.
“It’s Bryan,” Jessica began. “He’s missing.” She continued to relay all the events of the last few days, starting with the phone call that set the spiral to pandemonium in motion.
“I knew that Dimitre character was bad news. Just knew it. You know I even told him not to accept him as a client, but you know how stubborn he is.”
“Isn’t that the truth?” They shared a small nervous laugh. “I’ll update you as soon as I hear more.”
“Thanks for letting me know, Jessica.”
There, the news had been spread. Jessica had cleared her conscience by informing her. Bryan would have wanted Colleen to know. But it did not matter how many times she said those words, Bryan is missing, they were unreal and nightmarish to her. She expected him to come into the house at night and crawl into the bed beside her.
-
Chapter 22
SIX DAYS MISSING. The hours, the minutes, the seconds ticked past at a nearly stalled pace. Jessica sat at her desk watching the cursor blink on the screen, her fingers poised over the keyboard. She should have been working but found herself simply shuffling paperwork around. Her mind was on Bryan. She missed him so much her body ached from the pain of his absence. How was she supposed to function fully on a daily basis? Eating and sleeping was all she could manage. Both necessities of life, yet she had to discipline herself to take care of them. Her eyes went to her engagement ring. She twisted it with her thumb and held it up to catch the light. Her stomach churned.
The call from Detective Knight earlier in the day only reaffirmed what she feared to be true. Bryan’s abductors were going to get away with it. They traced the call, searched for prints, and nothing. No success at all. They were back at the beginning without any more leads. Surely they could do something, anything that would get them closer to the truth, to Bryan.
Her heart had to embrace hope and trust that he was alive.
Bryan, I love you.
She pressed her hand to her chest, a single tear sliding down her warm cheek. She had to leave. Nothing would get accomplished here.
Her boss, Henry, had been surprised by her determination to come to work. He did his best to convince her to take some time off, deal with things, and clear her head. But she stubbornly refused to heed his advice. So now, here she sat, staring at the screen, doing nothing but daydream.
Her phone rang, and she answered.
“Doctor Abrams, for you, Jess.”
Abrams was Bryan’s dentist.
Nella put the call through, and Jessica’s chest heaved with anxiety.
“Miss Pratt, I just wanted to let you know that Detective Knight has Bryan’s records,” he said.
Jessica willed herself to remain strong. “Thank you, I really appreciate it.”
“No problem at all.” The doctor continued in a tender voice, “But I sure hope they won’t need to use them.”
His caring words, and the way he said them, made it difficult to maintain her composure. “Me too.”
“Know that my thoughts and prayers are with you during this difficult time.” Jessica nodded her head as if he could see her. Tears cascaded down her cheeks. His words made it sound like Bryan had already died and he offered sympathy. “Thanks,” she said, choking on the word.
She hung up the phone and sat there sobbing like she had lost him to death. But this was a state far worse. A circumstance that offered no finality, no certainty, no way of verifying what his fate had become. She had no choice but to go on—day after day, week after week, with uncertainty looming over her. And the ultimate nightmare of the situation being that she might never know the truth. He might only be presumed dead. His body might never turn up. She reached for a tissue from her desk and blew her nose.
“You all right?” Nella walked into the office.
Jessica shook her head.
“You should go home, honey. Dominic and I can hold down the fort. Do as Henry said.”
“I think I will.” Jessica powered down her laptop and closed it. Nella stood in front of her for a hug.
“Maybe take the week. Try and relax.”
Nella held Jessica tightly further communicating her concern.
Jessica patted Nella’s back. She released her and said, “I will, babe. Please let the big guy know.”
Nella nodded.
IT WAS LATE AFTERNOON AND Jessica lay staring at the ceiling. She had not even bothered to close the drapes over the sheers before crawling into bed. Her mind raced with the scenarios that could play out over the next while. Her wedding to Bryan might not even take place. A knock on the bedroom door broke her concentration.
“Come in,” Jessica said.
The door cracked open and Rosa entered.
“Mr. Freeman, the man fro
m the other day, is here to see you.”
Jessica sensed the contempt the woman held for her. No doubt the older woman read more into her relationship with Mason. She struggled to free herself of the sheets that entangled her legs.
“Tell him I’ll be down in a moment.”
She desired time alone to sulk but knew that dwelling on such negativity for extended periods would only serve to pull her down further.
Rosa backed out of the room and shut the door behind her. She never said a word before exiting.
Jessica hurried to put herself together. Her mascara had smeared from all the crying. The eye shadow was nearly transparent from wiping her eyelids. She put her hand through her tousled hair. She could not face Mason like this.
Guilt followed the thought of beautifying herself for another man. She cleansed her face and put on makeup while convincing herself she would have done the same if it had been Nella there. She pulled on a pair of cotton shorts and slipped on a white T-shirt before heading down.
Mason stood at the base of the stairs holding half a dozen yellow roses.
Seeing him there nearly took her breath. Nervousness rushed over her. He had that control over her—every single time. Part of her resented the fact he wielded that power.
“What are you doing here?” She kept her eyes off the flowers he held. It made her too tense.
“Now come on. Is that any way to greet a man with roses?”
“I suppose not.” A weak smile spread across her lips. “Let’s start over then. Good day, Mr. Freeman.”
His dimples intensified with his smile. He did a partial bow as if he were greeting a maiden in medieval times.
“Good day, Miss Pratt. These are for Rosa. I forgot to hand them to her.” He teased her as he moved the flowers from her reach.
“I’m sure.”
“Maybe I like older women.” He smiled again and extended the flowers to her.
She moved forward to take them and when their fingers brushed, the magnetic pull to him was inescapable. And there it was—the guilt. It reinforced the fortress around her heart. She had to view Bryan’s missing as a test to her loyalty. Surely, she had more resolve than six days’ worth. She stepped back and headed to the kitchen for a vase.
Rosa passed through the back end of the room, her eyes intently on the two of them. Her eyes condemned Jessica.
“Rosa, please put these in a vase.”
Jessica held the flowers out to her. Rosa took them and muttered something indiscernible.
“What do you have planned for today? I called the office and Nella said you were taking some time off. Probably the rest of the week?”
“I really need to speak with her about confidentiality.”
His sullen expression and silence made her realize how harsh her words came across. Thinking over the inflection in her voice, it really had exposed her inward hostility toward this infraction of her personal space.
“I didn’t mean that the way it came out. Would you like something to drink?”
“Sure, what do you have?”
“Don’t do that to me.” Jessica smiled. “Let’s put it this way, I’m sure we’ve got whatever you might want.”
“What about a glass of Scotch?”
Rosa mumbled a curt reply. “No Scotch.” Her attention was on the roses. She cut the stems at an angle and ran them under hot water.
“Okay, everything except Scotch.” She smiled at him, dismissing Rosa’s attitude.
“I’ll have whatever you feel like.”
“Well, all right then, red wine it is. You like Australian?”
“That’s fine. I’m easy going.”
“I’ve heard a rumor to that effect,” she teased him.
“Don’t believe all of what you hear.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But in my case probably most of it is true.”
She pulled a bottle from the wine rack and the corkscrew from the drawer. She struggled with opening the bottle.
“Oh, I always have such a hard time with this. Bryan...” Her words came to a standstill when Mason brushed against her side.
“I can get it for you.”
His face, his lips, were only mere inches from hers. Her heart palpitated. She licked her lips and moved to the side. Her eyes were mesmerized by him. From the first time she saw him there was a connection—unexplained and illogical. He was essentially a stranger to her. But the warmth in his eyes, the familiarity in his facial expressions, made it almost like she had known him for a lifetime.
His hair was groomed perfectly with not one strand out of place. He wore a pair of casual, light beige pants with a blue, collar, short-sleeved shirt. It intensified the depth of his blue eyes.
Her face blushed with the implication in his eyes. He experienced what she did—he wanted to take her lips right now but had to fight for self-control.
An awkward moment of silence passed.
He smiled and turned his attention back to the wine bottle. He popped the cork and put it on the counter.
“You make it look simple.” She smiled.
“Well, it’s not that hard.” His eyes took in all the cupboards. “Glasses?”
“Yeah, of course. Unless you prefer to drink straight from the bottle.” She opened a cabinet near his head. “Excuse me.” She stood on her toes to reach the shelf and pulled two glasses down and stepped back. “See that wasn’t so hard.”
“It can be when you don’t know where to look.” He bumped his shoulder into hers.
“I suppose.” She found herself standing there shoulder to shoulder with him. Her mind wanted to make her pull back, but her heart made her stay.
He poured the wine into the glasses and he handed her one. “There you go.”
“Why thank you, Mr. Freeman.”
“You realize we should be on a first name basis by now.”
“Hmm, you think so?” She led the way back to the sitting area. Taking a seat on the white sofa, one leg bent beneath her, she realized she should feel comfortable addressing him by his first name. Yet she found it hard to do, feeling it would somehow betray Bryan.
Mason sat beside her. “What’s for dinner?”
“Dinner? You just got here, you have a glass of wine, and now you want me to cook dinner?”
Mason held up his hand and said, “At no point did I imply you make dinner.” He grinned. “Would you like to go out?”
They held each other’s eyes in a silent connection—the kind that speaks volumes. His words, his invitation, caused her to break the eye contact. She glanced down at his lips. Her heart, ready to take the plunge into disloyalty, had to be reeled back in accord with her mind, her moral fiber.
“I don’t know if that would be a good idea.”
He sat his glass on the side table, relaxed into his seat, and crossed his one leg, resting it on the other.
“No one said we have to go out. We could stay in.”
She peered into his eyes.
“I mean I would prefer that we stay in, but I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”
The warmth in his eyes and the comfort she had in his presence offset the building hostility within her. He could possibly be one of those people you could never stay mad at.
“Let’s order something in. I know a fabulous Chinese restaurant that delivers out here. Do you like Chinese?”
“Oh, woman, dang right I do. Sounds great.”
Woman? That is how Bryan would flirt with her sometimes. My little paranoid woman. When she was suspicious of that woman from the bar, he reaffirmed his love for her and said those words when their conflict had been resolved.
She took a sip of her wine and placed it on the table. They were in definite need of a subject change.
“Mason, tell me about yourself.”
“Is this an interview?” He laughed
. “Well, what would you like to know?”
“Let’s see, why don’t we start with how a man like you ended up with a company like Knockturnl.”
Mason let out a sigh. “Not business. Surely, you want to know more about the man.” He patted his chest.
“In my opinion a man’s work tells a lot about the man.”
“You drive a hard bargain but okay, here goes. Pace yourself, though, it may be too exciting for you to handle.”
Jessica turned her entire body to face him, putting her back to the arm of the sofa. “Go on.”
“I just saw it as a terrific opportunity to fill a need in the market. I was with a bunch of guys drinking late one night and we came up with the idea of the energy drink. I’m assuming you know my family has been in the beverage industry for a long time.” Jessica shook her head. “Well, my family has been in the beverage industry for a long time.” He repeated his words and smiled before continuing. “I just decided to branch out on my own when it came to T-Bolt. I had the contacts for investors and I went from there.”
“It’s great that you had the courage to try it on your own, to break away from your father’s company umbrella and try something new. Very impressive.”
“Well, it was relatively overwhelming at first, but I think I have a handle on things now. With business you can never get too comfortable. You need to have a strong image, a strong message, and not be afraid of change or growth. That’s why I came to Get Noticed Media. Do you realize that I sought you out specifically?”
“No,” she said the word deliberately and in a low tone. Her heart wanted to plead that their meeting was destiny, but her mind knew better. Again, a twinge of guilt.
“Well, you came recommended.” He took a drink of his wine. “Tell me about you. How did you end up with a guy like Bryan?”
Anger warmed Jessica’s earlobes.
Mason was back on his initial agenda—trying to escalate this friendship to the next level—but to rebuff his question would dishonor Bryan. She owed him as much to discuss him and his wonderful charm and character.
“I’ve known Bryan for a long time. And when I say a long time, I mean it. It goes back to public school.”
Life Sentence Page 16