by Thianna D
Straight to voicemail.
"Damn." Reaching into his pocket, he felt for the note and pulled out the information on the hotel she was staying at. She had no idea he knew where she was and he originally had had no intention of mentioning the fact until after she got home, but now? If something had happened, he needed to know.
"Rawkins' Inn," a soft female voice said. "How may I direct your call?"
"Room two-two-four. Charmagne Kendle's room."
There was a moment of silence before she said, "Just a moment, sir."
The moment seemed to last an hour, though he knew it was less than thirty seconds before the phone was picked up. "You are calling for Ms. Kendle?" a male voice asked.
"Yes. You are?"
"My name is Bertran Rawkins, owner and manager of the inn. Who might you be?"
"My name is Brent Carmichael, her boyfriend. I have tried to get hold of Char several times this morning, but she has not responded. Has she checked out?"
"Mr. Carmichael," he said, his voice becoming quieter. "I'm afraid I cannot say much. If you want to call the St. Louis Police Depa—"
"What?" Brent hollered, and then he winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell. What's wrong? Did she get hit? Hurt? Is she in the hospital?"
"I'm not at liberty to say, Mr. Carmichael. Please call the following number. The detective in charge of the investigation's name is Joshua Treders. Maybe he can help you."
Writing down the number, Brent thanked the man and hung up. He knew it. He knew there was something wrong the night she said she was leaving town. Damnit! Quickly dialing, he sat back and waited.
Joshua Treders. He could not possibly be—
"St. Louis Police Department. How may I direct your call?"
"Joshua Treders."
"Just a moment."
The connection came quickly. "This is Detective Treders." The gravelly voice was the one thing that would make Brent smile in that one moment, one tiny light in this otherwise dismal moment.
"Detective, huh? You're going up in the world, Josh."
"Brent Carmichael?" Joshua burst out laughing. "Well, fuck. How are you doing in the wilds of Colorado?"
"Good and bad. Which is why I'm calling."
"Not sure I can help, but shoot."
"My girlfriend's name is Charmagne Kendle. What happened to her, and what do you know?"
"She's your girl?"
"Yep. She was in St. Louis for a four-day convention. I spoke to her last night and haven't heard from her since."
"Yeah. All right. I'll tell you what I know only because I know you. You'll hound the hell out of me until I'll have to do it anyway."
"You know me well." Brent sat and waited for the bad news, hoping like hell it would not be that she was dead.
"It seems Ms. Kendle was kidnapped."
Freezing in place, Brent stared blankly ahead of him. Kidnapped? Char? What the fuck for?
"A man we have only a sketch of came to pay her a visit early this morning about three a.m. She called security and they got him to leave. After that, we have her keycard being used in the gym about fifteen minutes later. Fourteen minutes after that, we have camera footage of her being carried out a side door by a man dressed in all black and dumped into the back of a plain black sedan with no plates. We're asking questions, Brent, but so far? No leads."
Pain in his knuckles made Brent realize just how tightly he was holding the steering wheel. "Why would anyone kidnap her?" he asked himself.
"That's what we would like to know. It was a professional hit, Brent. The guy that took her knew what he was doing. Whoever is behind it has money."
That was the jolt he needed. "The Korvens."
"The who?"
"Gavin Korven's family. She used to be engaged to their son Nathan and a few weeks ago a lawyer showed up, trying to get us to give up information on her."
Joshua let out a low whistle. "Shit. That's big money, Brent. My boss would go ape-shit if I were to suggest such a thing."
"It doesn't matter how rich he is. I know they're the ones to have her. Fuck!" Brent clenched his eyes shut, hoping they were not dumping her into some mental hospital right now. What was wrong with these people?
"All right. Tell you what – give me your number. I'll do a little fishing and get back to you."
"I'm coming." There was no way he could stay in Corbin's Bend if Char was… but where would she be? Would she still be in St. Louis? Or New York? Or… with that kind of money she could be out of the country for all he knew. "Fuck," he groaned.
"Just stay put, Brent. As soon as I know something, you'll know something. I promise."
"All right. Thanks, Josh." Putting his phone on the dash, he stared blankly ahead of him. His hands were shaking, and while he tried to banish it, the words kept going through his head. First I lost Eliza to cancer, now I am going to lose Char to—
"No!" he yelled, throwing the four-by-four into gear and heading south. He would not think that way. Joshua was one of the best cops he knew. If anyone could find her, it would be him.
The streets passed by without his notice. Without thinking about it, he pulled into the parking lot of the clubhouse and walked inside. Jonathon stepped out of his office, the smile crossing his face at seeing Brent quickly changing to worry. "What's wrong?"
"Char's been kidnapped."
"Fuck."
It was damned hard for Brent to function. Usually he could snap in and out of police mode, but with Char's life on the line, he could not think rationally. It was a good thing those around him could. "Sit!" The bark from Calbert surprised him and he turned, confused to realize the foyer of the clubhouse was teeming with people. "Sit down, you idiot," Calbert grunted, shoving a chair into his legs to enforce his order. "Jonathon sent out the distress call through the system. What do you know?"
At his words, the people who had been hissing frantically at one another stopped talking and turned toward Brent. Slowly, he went through everything he knew. When he got done, Kirk Darrent walked forward. "I'm calling their lawyers. Beth! Go home and get my contact list."
"On it!" she called, running out the door.
A strong hand landed on Brent's shoulder and he looked up into Jason's face. "Try to stay focused, Brent. We'll do everything we can."
It was as if the entire development had been charged with one thought. Find Charmagne Kendle. Most of them did not even know her, but they knew Brent. And he knew that he was the one they were doing this for. When she was safe in his arms, he would thank them for it.
Calls flew in and out of the clubhouse as people made contact with anyone they knew that might be able to help. Later on, Brent would have to ruminate on some of the contacts his friends had: from senators and congressmen to people who were beyond the law. That part made him uncomfortable but whenever he tried to say something, either Colbert or Jason shut him up.
A gentle hand landed on his shoulder and he looked up into the face of Father Henry Beauchamp, the rector of St. Michael's, one of the churches within the community. When the plans were first finalized for Corbin's Bend, he had been the first religious leader Brent called to see if he would be interested in a new flock out West. "Everything will be all right, Brent," he said in his quiet, but rock-steady voice that had somehow never lost its British accent even with all the years he had lived in the US. "God is with you, and He is with Char. Trust in Him, and in His plan."
Before he could reply, Brent's phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out, an unknown number flashing on the screen. Hoping it was good news, he answered. "This is Brent Carmichael."
Nathan and Char glared at one another and, not surprisingly, his glare turned to a pout. "I don't know what you mean. We love one another."
"Stop. You know we don't. Just tell me the truth, Nathan. Why did you pick me before? Why are you trying to make me marry you now?"
At first, Char was not sure he would answer, but then he threw his hands up and they landed with a thud on the bed. Combined wit
h his pout, he looked like a little boy.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this. I got angry at my family for trying to control my life. That's why I went after you. I thought it would serve them right if I got married to a nobody." Charlotte flinched inwardly, but then recognized that she was probably finally hearing the truth. At least that was something. "But you… you weren't just a nobody. You were kind of fun, too. Not quite up to my standards, but still. Fun. But I honestly thought my family would have a bigger cow when we got engaged. I mean, sure they investigated you and assigned Enrique to follow you everywhere, but you were squeaky clean."
He picked up one pillow and clutched it to his chest. "Suddenly Mom was planning a society wedding and Julia was telling everyone what a cute sister-in-law she was getting." That surprised Charmagne. Nathan's sister had never acted anything but bored when she was around. "It felt claustrophobic! Damn, I got together with you because I wanted to make them mad and suddenly they were all happy-happy because you were in my life."
His voice went up an octave in a bad imitation of the female members of his family. "'Finally, Nathan's growing up. He found a sweet, innocent woman to settle down with. Maybe now he'll do something worthwhile.' It was maddening!" he exclaimed, tossing the pillow to the end of the bed. "And then…" His eyes lit up as he leaned forward, his eyes watching her. "Jessica told me about your weird spanking fetish and I knew I had my way out. My family wouldn't want to be mixed up in such a scandal. So, I broke up with you and got your landlord to kick you out."
A sharp laugh left his throat. "I figured that was it. You left quickly and then I told them that we had broken up." All levity left his face and the pout came back full force. "You would not believe it, Char! They blamed me! Told me it was all my fault that you had turned weird and that they were tired of my games."
He went silent, his expression telling her he was lost in some memory. Wanting the whole story, she cleared her throat. "So, why did you send the lawyer to Corbin's Bend?"
Rolling his eyes, Nathan leaned back against the pillow again. "I figured we could scare the living daylights out of them. Get them to list you as sick for your weird fetish, which would then drive you back to me. Instead? Turns out the whole damned place loves to spank. Did you know that?"
Internally, his expression of abject horror made her snicker. On the outside though, she just raised an eyebrow. "I don't think someone like you has any right to judge us."
He waved his hand around as if sloughing off her comment. "So, I tried to think of something else. I truly did, Char. I didn't want to kidnap you, you know. But Dad finally laid down the law: if I didn't grow up and marry a respectable girl, he would cut me off. What was I to do?" He threw both hands up again and flumped backward.
She was amazed. How could she have convinced herself she was in love with such a little boy? Because no doubt about it, Nathan was a little boy. He never grew up. "Find someone to marry, perhaps?" she suggested.
"They want you."
"But I don't want you."
There was a moment's silence before his head came off the pillow. "What do you mean you don't want me?" The baffled expression on his face amazed her.
"I was never after your money, Nathan. Yes, you wowed me. I mean, what girl wouldn't be wowed by the rich and powerful Nathan Korven turning on the charm? But it was never your money I was after. I fell in love with a dream that never existed." The realization made her feel good. She had never loved him, just the fairytale she had been in. "In fact, I guess I should be grateful you behaved so abominably. If not, I never would have moved to Colorado and met people like me." Brent, and Bethany, and all the wonderful people of Corbin's Bend. People who now meant home to her.
"But if you don't marry me, they'll take my money away."
"There are tons of girls in your social set who would jump at being your wife. I'm sure your family would be happy to have any one of them. Plus, I don't think your father would appreciate your having me kidnapped, would he?" It wasn't until the words slipped from her lips and Nathan ducked his head a little that she knew the truth. The rest of the Korvens had no idea what he had done. "Well, then, let's make a deal, Nathan. You return me to Colorado and promise to never darken my doorstep or that of anyone in Corbin's Bend again, and I won't tell your parents you had me kidnapped."
His eyes met hers and they stared at one another. "Fine!" he said, pouting again. "These kinds of things never used to happen to me."
"Maybe it's time you grew up," she suggested, grinning when he glared. "Now, where are we and how close to an airport?"
"Three hours from my private plane. I'll have my pilot take you to Denver." He paused after standing up. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to be Mrs. Nathan Korven? I'd smack your ass if that was what you really wanted."
Snorting out laughter, she tried to imagine him doing so and shook her head. "Thanks for that, but no. I have someone."
"Yeah, that's what the lawyer said." Nathan shrugged. "You're lucky. You can do anything you want without having people breathing down your neck about everything you do."
Smiling, she walked toward the door. "Where are my things?"
"Right outside the door. Tell Loverboy you'll be home by tonight," he added, pulling out his phone.
"Unbelievable," she sighed as she closed the door behind her and saw her suitcase and phone sitting to the left. Nathan had never had to pay for anything he had done wrong, and she supposed letting him get away with kidnapping her wasn't exactly a good idea either. But she just wanted to get away from him and back to Brent. Grabbing her phone, she turned it on and hit speed dial.
"This is Brent Carmichael."
She opened her mouth to answer him, but found her throat close up as she started to cry.
"Char? Char is that you?" he yelled. "Where are you?"
"It's me," she whispered through her tears. "I should be in Denver by nightfall."
"It was him, wasn't it? Korven."
"Yeah. He wanted me to marry him, but now that he knows I mean no, he said he would send me home."
"Just like that?" he asked suspiciously.
"I told him I would tell his parents what he did if he didn't send me home."
"Where are you?"
"I'm still not sure. He didn't tell me. Just that we were a few hours from his private plane and that his pilot would fly me to Denver."
A low groan came from the other side of the line. "Come home, Char. Come home now."
"On my way."
Nathan never came out of the room. Instead Enrique walked up to her. "Ms. Kendle? Mr. Korven has asked me to drive you to his plane."
She stepped back. "And I'm supposed to trust you because…?"
He smiled. "I'm not a bad man, Ms. Kendle. Just a highly paid one. His father pays my bills, not Mr. Nathan. As such, I'll see that you get home in one piece."
Nodding slowly, she picked up her bag and followed him down the stairs and out to a plain black sedan. The drive was long and she kept looking around for any sight of an airfield. Something Enrique had said made her ask, "You said Mr. Korven asked you to drive me to his plane. You meant Nathan?"
"No. I meant Mr. Korven. He knows what his son did, Ms. Kendle, and you can be assured you will never receive another visit from Mr. Nathan. I've been told to never take another job from him again, and that if he asks I'm to inform his father." The private detective shook his head. "I apologize for my part in your kidnapping. You can also be assured you will never see me after today."
Char had a hard time believing anything, but hoped he was telling the truth. "Where are we, anyway?" she finally asked.
"Mexico."
Of course. Because if you're going to kidnap your ex-fiancée and try to get her to marry you, you would take her out of the country. "I hope Nathan grows up soon."
Enrique flashed her a smile. "I believe his father has plans for that." Something in the way his eyes twinkled made her fight a grin. Nathan was about to grow up, whether he wanted to or not.
The flight was almost seven hours, and by the time they landed at the Denver airport, she was tired and had already decided to take a hotel room for a day before going home. After exiting the plane, she walked across the tarmac toward a sign that said Long-Term Parking. The squeal of tires caught her attention and she jumped as a huge SUV that looked slightly familiar stopped right in front of her. Before she could look at who was driving, Brent was out of the passenger door and in front of her, pulling her into such a tight hug she could barely breathe.
She wanted to be brave, to show the bravado that had held her up for the last day, but safe in Brent's arms, she crumbled. The tears started and would not stop. Her body shook even as her muscles bunched and spasmed through gut-wrenching sobs. He picked her up without a word, and next thing she knew, she was curled on his lap, but still she could not stop crying.
"Char." Brent's murmur made it through her loud cries, but she kept going. His arms held her tight, pulling her so close there was no telling where he ended and she began. The warmth of his arms and body combined with the exhaustion that came from her release, and she quickly fell into a deep slumber.
"Thank you." Brent's voice made it through a haze and Char blinked her eyes open, recognizing her home. Looking around, she saw that she was lying on her own couch. "I appreciate it."
"Of course, Brent. And if you or Char need anything, let us know." That was Lelo's voice. Another voice of home.
Her front door shut and Brent walked quietly through the room into the kitchen. She opened her mouth to call out to him, but could not find the energy to do so. Instead, she just lay there and watched, wishing for him to come back. Her wish was granted a couple minutes later when he walked back in with two steaming mugs. His eyes lit upon her and he smiled. After placing the mugs on a side table, he lifted her up as if she weighed nothing and curled her onto his lap.