“No.” Actually, he didn’t. And now that things had ramped up, he could expect that the pressure to find him would increase.
“The sheriff planned on using me to meet with you and then arrest you. I think he’s a good man, Quinn, under normal circumstances. It’s just that he thinks that I can’t see clearly because you have some kind of power over me. Those were his words, not mine.”
“And what do you think?”
Incredulity edged her laugh. “I’ll just have to prove them wrong, won’t I? He thinks that arresting you will end the threats on me and my family.”
He could only say he was sorry so many times. “Thanks for giving me the heads-up.”
“I’m going to destroy this phone now. I’m not going to call you again. Don’t come to the house, either. The bad guys are watching.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. She’d kept her job up to this point, sure, but this time, if the sheriff found out what she’d just done, she might not be so fortunate. “It’s all right, Bree. I was about to call my superior. I didn’t know there was a warrant for my arrest, but I’m going to turn myself in, if that’s what it takes to end this.”
“But if you were right about the dangers of being taken into custody, then you could end your life that way, too, Quinn. I won’t stand by and let that happen.”
“There’s nothing you can do.”
“Yes, there is. I can try to find out who is behind this. Expose them.”
“No. Absolutely not. Right now it would be his word against mine, or I would have come forward sooner. But you are not to engage them in any way. I’m taking this out of your and your sheriff’s hands by calling my superior. I’ll end it my own way.”
“Your own way?” A cynical huff came over the phone. “And I have no say in this at all? My life and Stevie’s life are on the line until this is over. I can’t just wait and do nothing. I didn’t tell you but they only gave me twelve hours to turn you over to them. That means I have six hours left. And what did I do? I talked to the sheriff. That man said he was watching me, so it’s likely he knows I went to my sheriff despite his warning.”
“He knows that you’re a deputy and have a job. There are a million things that could have taken you to the sheriff’s department today. He doesn’t know you told the sheriff.” Yet.
Still, she hadn’t told him before about the deadline. The clock was ticking. He needed to get off the phone with her and get this over with.
“Listen, Bree. I’m glad you called to tell me all this. I wouldn’t hold it against your sheriff if he found and arrested me, but Sheriff Garrison is wrong about ending the threats. Since the money wasn’t recovered, I fear retribution from these men. That means they could harm you or Stevie, whether or not I’m in jail.” Or even whether or not he was alive. He ground his teeth. This got worse by the minute. He wished he could scoop her and Stevie up, and yeah, maybe even her dad, who detested him, and run away with them. “Listen, I want you to leave, Bree. You need to get away and hide. Go somewhere safe. Do you know anyone in Canada?”
“Quinn, you’re scaring me.”
“Good. I don’t like where this is heading. Where are you now?”
“I’m in my car. I told the sheriff I was heading home to get breakfast, but I really just needed time to think, then I’ll go back to the department. But with his deception, I don’t know how to face him.”
“Understandable. Here’s what I want you to do. Don’t even go home. Go directly to the airport and buy a ticket to anywhere.”
“Are you crazy?”
“No. I’m completely sane. I want you to be safe. I’m going to walk right into the DEA office and sit in my superior’s office with a witness or two, and tell them what I know. That will pull all the insanity away from Coldwater Bay, but it’s going to take time for that to happen. I want you to be safe until then.”
“Quinn, you won’t make it there. You can’t even get on a plane now. It would take you too long to drive there. Oh, wait. A call from Dad is coming through on my other phone. Can you wait a second?”
“Hurry.” She should be heading to the airport. Why wouldn’t she take him seriously?
“What?” Her voice came over the phone—but she wasn’t talking to him. “No, Dad, no.” The words came out in a wail.
TWELVE
Anguish engulfed Bree, but she focused enough to think clearly. To finish this conversation with Dad even though Stevie had been abducted. Kidnapped. The worst possible scenario. Exactly what she had tried to avoid.
She wanted to throw the phone and crumple. But she had to be strong for Stevie. For Dad. They never even made it on the plane before Stevie was taken.
Bree composed herself. Stopped the sniffles. “Dad, tell me everything.”
“Now, listen carefully to me, Bree. You can’t tell the sheriff. They warned me that if I called the police, I would never see my grandson again. I’m so, so sorry, Bree. I—” Sobs resounded through the phone.
She could hardly stand to hear her own father sobbing. “Dad. Daddy. Please, don’t. We can’t help Stevie if we fall apart. You have to pull yourself together.”
“Okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he said.
“It’s okay. Now listen. Don’t you blame yourself. You can’t do that. But we have to get him back.” She forced her voice to sound strong and determined, holding back the whimpers. “Nothing matters except getting him back.” Not her. Not Dad. Not Quinn.
Only Stevie mattered. She would do anything. Anything. To get him back here safely and deal with the consequences later. Deputy or not.
“Now, what are their demands?”
“He wants Quinn. Just like you told me early this morning. He wants Quinn in exchange for Stevie. Why did that jerk ever have to come back into our lives?” His anger boiled through their connection.
Bree would almost prefer his apologies to this. “Did the caller say anything else?”
“Yes. That you have six hours to find Quinn. He will contact you.”
Right. The guy hadn’t given her an extension on his deadline. Could be that he had his own deadline by which he had to deliver Quinn.
“Okay, Dad. It’s going to be okay.”
“I...don’t know...” Her Dad’s words were garbled with tears.
And the sound wrenched her through and through. “Dad, hold it together. You have to be strong for Stevie.”
“Yes. I know. And for you. I just... I just can’t lose—”
Steve’s son. His only son’s only son. His only grandchild.
“I know. And you’re not going to. I’ve got this.” What was she saying? She absolutely did not have this. She was grateful this call came through before she destroyed her only means to contact Quinn. She just hoped he was still on the other cell waiting for her.
“I keep thinking I should call the police, despite their warning. What do you want me to do?”
“Let me handle it on my end. You go to Idaho and stay there so I don’t have to worry about you, too. For Stevie’s sake, okay? You wait for them to call you. I’ll let you know...”
“Know what, Bree? That you have Quinn and you’re going to trade him?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t be serious.”
She wished she wasn’t. “Dad, please don’t worry. It’s going to work out fine.”
How could she tell him things she wasn’t so sure about? How could she reassure him like this? Maybe the reassurance was for her. She had to believe that Stevie would be all right, and that his Auntie Bree would save the day.
Her body quivered under the pressure.
“I know,” he said. “I’ll pray, that’s all I can do. Pray for Stevie and for you. Bree...be careful.” He ended the call before she could say more.
Oh, Lord, what am I going to do?
“Bree!”
She looked around. Where was that—Oh, she’d completely forgotten she had Quinn on the other phone.
“Yes, I’m here. I...” She sucked in a breath. “You heard?”
“Part of it. But not all of it. I’m assuming they took Stevie. Bree... There are no words.” His anguished tone filtered through the cell.
He had to blame himself. Just like they all blamed themselves for their part in this. Dad, Bree and Quinn.
“I can’t lose Stevie, too. Not Steve’s little boy. Not my Stevie.” She grappled with the unbearable pain, struggling to shove it aside enough to let her think clearly. Had to stay on top of this. If she lost it now, Stevie could die. But what could she do to save him?
Her options were limited.
“I’m not going to turn myself into the DEA, after all,” Quinn said.
What? What was he saying? “Are you going to hide again, Quinn?” Disappointment suffused her.
“No.” The one word was all it took for her to hear the hurt in his voice. “We’re going to get him back,” Quinn said. “I’m going to trade myself for Stevie.”
He would do that? She could kick herself that her first thought had been to think the worst of him. Still, she couldn’t allow this, despite what she’d told her dad. “No. Absolutely not. You can’t. They’ll kill you.”
“Maybe. But getting Stevie back is all that matters, wouldn’t you agree?”
Moments ago, she told herself she would do absolutely anything to get her nephew back. But trading another human being was off the table. “There has to be another way.”
“Oh yeah, do you have any bright ideas?”
“Not yet, but I’m working on it. I can’t lose Stevie, but neither can I lose you, Quinn. I won’t give either of you up. Even to the sheriff I trusted.” He’d used her. Maybe he’d had good intentions, but still, she wouldn’t trust him with this.
What do I do, Lord?
Quinn’s breath came in rasps over the line. “Listen to me closely, Bree. I worked undercover with these men for over a year. Nearly two. They’re...brutal in ways I could never explain. I can’t get the images out of my head. I don’t want to scare you because now they have Stevie, but we can’t mess around anymore. We can’t waste a single second. You call your dad back and tell him you have me, and to set up the trade.”
Her heart twisted so hard she thought it would rip apart. I can’t do that...
“Quinn, you’re asking too much. How can I do that? It isn’t right. Please help me find another way.”
But little Stevie was counting on her.
“I’m working on a plan. Will you trust me, Bree? You know I’d never do anything to harm Stevie. I’ll do everything in my power to save him.”
Yes, Bree believed him—because in that way, Quinn could possibly make up for his part in Steve’s death. Steve had died in an accident, but Quinn was there and blamed himself for somehow not stopping it. She understood that completely because she felt the same way about herself.
She thought back to Quinn holding Steve in his arms as he stumbled all the way up on the beach, then collapsed on the sand. Quinn desperately wanted to save Stevie. And in this, she had no real choice but to trust him.
And she’d give him this, because he might just be giving his life for Stevie. “Yes, Quinn. I trust you.”
“I’ll be in touch,” he said, and ended the call.
She stared at her cell, working up the nerve to call her father. Hyperventilating, she pressed her finger on his image on her phone. It rang, but he didn’t answer. She left a voice mail.
“I’ve contacted Quinn. Set up the time and place to trade him for Stevie when he contacts you.”
What am I doing?
* * *
Waiting for that call back from Bree with the information for the trade-off was pure torture.
Would she actually call and make the deal to trade him? He wasn’t entirely sure. He half expected Sheriff Garrison to knock down his door and arrest him.
Nothing left for him to do except pace his room in the small run-down motel, close to town but with a low profile. He didn’t care that it was a dump. It was just a place to hide until he had a way to get Stevie. A way for Quinn to get information to exonerate himself. In other words, a way to get back to working undercover. It could work both ways, and he could turn this blown cover and warrant for his arrest around to exonerate himself.
Time to make the call, only not to Bree.
Good thing he had a burner and another cell. He wouldn’t have to use the cell that Bree would call him back on with the information about the trade for Stevie. Instead, he would call someone he hadn’t trusted enough to call before, and for good reason.
An agent he knew well and had worked with on numerous occasions. She was smart and capable, but she was too by-the-book to work well with him. He could never trust her to secrecy because she wouldn’t bend the rules or jeopardize her job. She was black-and-white, despite working in an arena where everything was black and gray.
Except this time, she was the only person he could call. He could only hope and pray that she would be willing to bend this time because a little boy’s life was at stake.
He pushed the numbers into the cell, hoping he could still reach her at the same number.
After a few rings a woman answered. “Agent McKesson speaking.”
“Hi, Julia.”
A gasp came over the cell. “Qui-Quinn.” Then, she whispered. “Agent Strand?”
Former Agent Strand. Ex-agent. Right now I feel more like a fugitive.
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand. After all this time, you call me? What’s going on?”
She could be putting him on speakerphone even now and signaling the rest of them to listen in and trace the call for all he knew. She could mislead him in order to bring him in, just like Sheriff Garrison had done to Bree. But Quinn knew her weakness. And he was about to use it. He would cut right to the heart of the matter.
“I don’t care about my life, Julia.” He barely cared about justice at this particular moment. He just wanted Stevie back where he belonged. “A little boy’s life is in danger, and I need your help. Can I trust you?”
“Well, that depends.”
Figured.
“On what?”
“You. I won’t get involved in anything illegal. Quinn, you must know there’s a warrant for your arrest.”
“I know that I’ve been set up. Now someone has been abducted.” He drew in a breath, then, “Julia. He’s only five.”
Oh, now he was just being cruel. Julia had lost her little boy—he’d been only three—to a stray bullet from gangbangers working with DTOs—drug trafficking organizations. They had kidnapped her son to get at her husband. Both her son and husband had been killed in the cross fire.
She gasped. He could picture her frowning and angry with him. She knew exactly what he was doing.
“Let me guess. They want you in exchange for the boy.”
“Yes. And I’m going to give them what they want.”
“I’m assuming you haven’t called the authorities.”
“I have. I’m calling you.”
“You know I have to turn you over. I have to turn this over—”
“A boy’s life is hanging in the balance. Those creeps have him. Julia... You know how this can turn out.” Please, God, let me reach her. Quinn realized he hadn’t been praying nearly enough, but maybe he shouldn’t wait until he was utterly desperate.
“I do. And let me be perfectly clear, I see what’s going on here. I know what you’re trying to do to me, and I do not appreciate it.”
“Does that mean you’re going to help me?”
A sigh over the phone, then, “Yes, I’ll help you. Tell me what you need from me.”
Quinn laid out his plan, fully aware that she cou
ld turn him in to the DEA or she could turn him in to Michael Jones. He’d been hiding from both the good guys and the bad guys. But Julia had never been a double-crosser. She’d never been a liar. If she said she would help, he believed her.
And together, Quinn, Bree and Julia would get Stevie back.
And he would find convincing evidence to bring Declan down.
* * *
Three hours later, Quinn still paced the suffocating room. They were running out of time. Bree had already called him back with the time and place for the trade here in Coldwater Bay. They had less than forty-five minutes.
Come on, Julia.
He wasn’t sure if law enforcement would break down his door or if a hit man would find him here. He didn’t like to be confined to a place without a backdoor escape, but leaving the premises could jeopardize him as well.
He was at the mercy of just about everyone at this moment, a position he never wanted to be in. Well, except for God—he could use God’s mercy.
He stared at the bed and the floor. For once in his life, he should probably drop to his knees and pray like his mother used to do. He would find her on her knees praying in the middle of the night. Pain pricked his heart. He didn’t have time to think about the past, and the fact that maybe he’d been angry with God his entire life. Why had Mom and Dad died in that accident? Such a cruel fate for such wonderful people.
He frowned, unwilling and unready to let it all go.
A soft knock came at the door. He readied his weapon and peered through the peephole, fully aware these could be his last seconds of life.
Julia.
He cracked the door enough for her to slip inside.
“You’re here.” Finally.
She shrugged and acted as if she might hug him, then thought better of it. “Sorry it took me so long. I couldn’t exactly wait for the next commercial flight and get here in time, so I called in a favor from a friend with a private jet.”
He breathed easier. She’d gone to a lot of trouble. “Thank you.”
Running Target Page 11