by Rebecca Deel
Scared him? Her loss of control still made her stomach want to lose the cinnamon latte all over the yard. “Bet I scared the doctor as well. Think he’ll talk to us now? What if I scared off our best lead to Dana?”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Let’s hope Jon gave him a plausible excuse and convinced him to talk.” Eli cupped her chin and lifted her gaze to his. “Can you hold it together? If not, I’ll have Jon question him while you and I walk around the neighborhood.”
“I’m fine. Let’s see what he knows.” Brenna placed a light kiss on his lips and walked toward the front of the house.
Within two strides, Eli caught up with her and nestled her hand in his. “Remember, sugar, any more theatrics and I’ll tell the good doctor you skipped your meds the past few days.”
Lips curving upward, Brenna glanced at him. Despite the light tone, his expression dispelled any notion he was joking. “I promise. No theatrics. There won’t be any need to call the guys in white coats to haul me off.”
They rounded the corner to find the doctor talking with Jon, still standing on the porch. Wilson eyed her as if expecting another outburst. Brenna’s cheeks burned. How embarrassing. She sighed. A great emotion to include in the next manuscript. Too bad the experience was so personal.
Jon turned toward them. “The doc might be of some help after all.”
Eli’s hand tightened around hers as they climbed the stairs again. “Anything you can do to help us find Dana we won’t forget. We’ll owe you a favor, Doc. Anytime, anyplace.”
“Does that include protecting my family from these animals?”
“That one’s on us,” Jon said. He pulled out a business card and handed it to Wilson.
Brenna’s eyes widened. He was giving the doctor his name? What if the Scarlett Group found the doctor and the card?
Wilson read the card, then raised a puzzled gaze. “This only has a phone number. How do I know who to ask for?”
“It’s a private number, a company that we do freelance work for. Tell whoever answers the phone that you are cashing in a favor and give them the code shown under the number. That code is assigned to me. They’ll know what to do. I’ll give them your name so you will be listed in a secured database. Within minutes, I’ll be notified you called. We’ll get to you ourselves or send someone to help.”
“Please, Dr. Wilson,” Brenna said. “Will you help us?”
He put the card into his wallet. “I don’t know where the girls are, but I think the place where they are being held is somewhere in Rutherford County.”
Jon stiffened. “Girls? They have more than one right now?”
“One more, a teenager. Blond.” Wilson grimaced. “She keeps begging me to call her mother.”
Eli and Jon exchanged a look.
Brenna noticed the glance between the two men and bit back the acidic words threatening to spew from her mouth despite her promise to Eli. The doctor must be talking about Julie. Unless the human traffickers had kidnapped another young girl. She bit down on her lower lip, hoping that wasn’t the case. No one deserved to be treated like cattle, especially a teenage girl with her whole life ahead of her.
“Rutherford County’s a big place, Doc. We need more information to help us narrow it down,” Eli said. “Did they drive on the interstate, back roads, unpaved roads, what?”
“Interstate, then paved side streets. No stop lights once we were off the interstate.” He paused. “Look, I can’t swear to this, but I think it’s somewhere between Murfreesboro and Christiana. It doesn’t take a long time to get from the Medical Center to the place where they keep the girls.”
Tires squealed close by.
Jon glanced over his shoulder. “Inside, now.”
Brenna caught a glimpse of a white van barreling down the street before Eli threw open the front door and shoved her and Dr. Wilson inside.
Eli ran through the hallway toward the kitchen where he heard the girls and Catrina Wilson. He burst into the room. Elena was on her knees in front of the girls, wiping their faces with a cloth. “Get down on the ground.”
She remained kneeling, frozen in place with a shocked expression on her face.
Not having time for niceties, Eli shoved her to the floor in front of the refrigerator, grabbed the screaming girls, and rolled with them in his arms until he covered them with his body.
“Don’t hurt my babies, please!” Catrina tried to get up.
“Stay down.”
Rapid semi-automatic gunfire shattered the morning stillness and the living room windows. Glasses on the kitchen table exploded. Orange juice spilled onto the floor. Catrina screamed and crawled closer to her crying daughters and Eli.
Return fire erupted from the front of the house followed by silence.
“My husband. Where’s my husband?” Catrina’s terror-filled gaze searched Eli’s. “I have to go to him.”
“Wait, Catrina. Just for a minute.” He crawled off the girls and pushed them into Catrina’s arms. “Keep them right here. Don’t move until I come back for you.” Eli didn’t know if Wilson had been hit or, God forbid, Brenna. Catrina Wilson and her daughters shouldn’t have to deal with further trauma. He didn’t worry about Jon. His tough teammate could fend for himself.
With a need bordering on panic to know if Brenna was injured, Eli moved into a crouch. He pulled his gun from the holster and shifted toward the living room. “Jon?” he called.
“Doorway. We’re clear for now. Cops are on their way.”
He ran to the living room, shoved his weapon into the holster, and lifted Brenna to her feet. “You okay, baby?” He scanned her body, prayed he wouldn’t find an injury, whether from the shooter or from him throwing her to the ground. At her nod and seeing no visible injuries, he tugged her into his arms. He rubbed her back, holding her as shudders of fear wracked her body and he struggled to regulate his own breathing and heart rhythm. Yeah, wouldn’t his SEAL buddies hoot and holler if they could see him now. They claimed he’d had ice running through his veins on missions. Not the case today.
Jon helped the shaken physician rise.
“Catrina?” he croaked. “My girls?”
“They’re fine,” Eli said. “Do you have a basement?”
Wilson nodded.
“Take your family down to the basement and keep them there until the police arrive.” Jon grabbed Wilson’s arm as he moved past. “Doc, don’t try to run with your family. If you do, Scarlett Group will find and kill all of you. We’ll provide protection if the police can’t or won’t do it.”
“I promise.” Wilson hurried to the kitchen.
“It was Scarlett’s thugs?” Eli asked.
“Yeah. Wilson recognized the van.”
A cold knot formed in his belly. If Scarlett’s thugs recognized him or Jon, they might move Dana to another location. He scanned his partner’s frustrated expression. Eli suspected he’d come to the same conclusion. It didn’t matter where they moved Dana. He and Jon wouldn’t stop searching until they found and freed her. He prayed the Scarlett Group didn’t kill her before then.
Brenna burrowed closer to his chest. Eli pulled her tighter against his body. Once again, he’d almost lost her to these bozos. One step slower and he would have been holding a lifeless body instead of her warm, scared one. Another ghost to populate his already haunted nightmares. Never, he vowed. No matter what it took. He wasn’t losing her. “Did you get a plate?”
“Oh, yeah.” Jon’s lips curled. “Call Cal. He’ll want to be here even if this is out of his jurisdiction.”
Eli loosened his grip on Brenna and grabbed his cell phone. When Cal growled a greeting, he gave Cal a run-down of the situation and the address. He ended the call to a symphony of police sirens and screeching tires. He brushed his lips against Brenna’s for a moment. “Don’t volunteer any information, sugar. Tell them what happened here, nothing else. We don’t want to mention Scarlett Group or Dana. There is a slim possibility this isn’t connected to our investig
ation.”
Although he didn’t believe that, Eli also didn’t think it necessary to tell everything they knew and be tied up in endless questions based on simple speculation. Good, probable speculation, but speculation nonetheless. They had no proof. Yet. They’d get it.
“Why not? Do you think they are on the take or something?”
“No, but the more we share with them, the longer the interview process will take. We’re running out of time and we can’t afford to have our faces plastered all over the media. Neither can Dana. If the Scarlett Group thinks we’ve gone to the cops for help, they’ll move her or kill her and cut their losses, pull up stakes and start again somewhere else. The bottom line is Dana will be lost in their human trafficking system or dumped in a hole six feet deep.”
Brenna sat at Dana’s breakfast bar once again and glared over the rim of her coffee mug at the stubborn SEAL cooking a mountain of scrambled eggs at the stove. “I’m not hungry, Eli. And even if I was, I couldn’t eat that many eggs in a week much less in one meal.”
“This is not just for you. You do need protein, though. You haven’t eaten in too many hours. Adrenaline and stress zap the appetite, but your body needs fuel to keep functioning or it shuts down at the wrong time.”
“The voice of experience again?”
“Oh, yeah. Trust me, sugar. Coffee can only take you so far.”
She sipped the hot, bracing brew and grimaced. Jon’s idea of coffee blazed a trail of fire all the way to her stomach. Thick and strong enough to keep her awake through eternity, Brenna decided milk or cream might make it more palatable. Another sip, another shudder. Nope. Ugh. Eli and Jon must have steel-lined stomachs.
“You don’t want to keep drinking Jon’s coffee without food in your stomach.”
Despite Eli echoing her own conclusion, Brenna scowled at his back. “You could have warned me earlier.”
“Don’t spill it on anything you want to keep. Peels paint right off whatever it touches.”
Brenna’s mug hit the counter with a thud. “Something tells me you’re not kidding.”
Eli chuckled, tossed her a twinkling glance, turned off the burner and slid the skillet of steaming eggs to the side. He opened cabinet doors until he found plates for the three of them. “Toast?”
Why not? Toasted bread slathered with butter and orange marmalade sounded good. Maybe the smell of cooking eggs awakened her taste buds. “Sure.” She padded to the refrigerator and peered into the interior for her favorite spread and butter. Holding the items in her hands, Brenna nudged the door closed with her hip. “Hand me a small plate.”
She warmed the butter in the microwave before placing it and the marmalade on the table next to a heaping platter of scrambled eggs cooked to perfection. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”
“Mom made sure all the Wolfe kids mastered the basics of cooking. Can’t say I have gourmet skills, but I get by.” He grinned. “It came in handy when Jon and I were in the Navy.”
“When did you have time to cook? I know the military feeds their soldiers.”
Jon walked into the dining area and seated himself next to the wall which left the space across from Brenna for Eli. “SEALs are deployed for months. The rest of the time we’re on training maneuvers. Believe me, we enjoyed cooking for ourselves whenever possible. Sea rations and food on the naval base was like typical cafeteria food.”
“Short on taste?”
“Knew you were a smart woman.” He winked at her. Warmth heated her cheeks at his teasing. No wonder Dana didn’t share her feelings about Jon. So many different sides to that quiet SEAL.
“Find anything from the Internet search?” Eli asked.
The teasing light left his eyes, replaced by a glint of what Brenna suspected was anger. “Ross Harrison is out of jail. Paroled early for good behavior.” Jon piled eggs and toast on his plate. “He’s also overdue to check in with his parole officer.”
Brenna dropped a fork with a clatter onto her plate. “He’s missing?” Her skin crawled, almost as if Ross the Rat was in the room, staring at her with his arctic blue eyes.
“Seems so.” Jon rose and refilled his coffee mug. “Should have checked in June 15 and his boss at the mine hasn’t seen him, either. Your good friend the police chief isn’t talking to anyone about Harrison.”
She chewed and swallowed a bite of eggs that now tasted as appealing as cooked cardboard. “They’re friends. Carter thinks Dana lied about what happened with Ross. He believes my sister went after Ross, not the other way around. How else was a normal, healthy adult male supposed to respond to a blatant invitation from a beautiful female? Didn’t matter if she was underage. She knew what she wanted and went after it. Poor Ross never stood a chance.”
Jon growled.
“I agree,” Brenna said. “I doubt Frank Carter would tell me if he knew where Ross went. According to him, Dana and I were out to get Mom’s money and house back from our stepfather because she left those to him in her will.”
Eli frowned. “Why didn’t your mother leave the money and house to you and Dana?”
“Neither of us wanted the house and Mom left us money in a trust. Dana spent her part of the money on college.”
His eyebrows rose. “Sounds like a sizeable trust fund.”
“I wish that were true.” It certainly would have made things a lot easier. Not only had Brenna written short contemporary romances under a pseudonym to help pay the school bill, she also contributed a few columns to the local newspaper, neither of which paid much. “Dana attended a community college in Wise.”
“Is your part of the money still in trust?”
Brenna smiled. “I’m spending my part of the trust to help Dana pay for the apartment and her groceries. She doesn’t know that and you and Jon can’t tell her. My sister thinks I earn decent money as a published author.”
“You don’t?”
She laughed. “If I did, Pound, Virginia would be a distant speck in my rearview mirror. I can write anywhere and email the manuscript to my agent. When I make enough to support myself in a bigger city, I’ll leave Pound and never look back. Too many bad memories in that town I’d love to leave behind. Doubt anyone would miss me either.”
Jon dropped back into his chair, coffee mug in hand, thoughtful expression on his face. “Would Carter protect Harrison from any inquiries, including one from the parole officer?”
“Very possible if he believed Ross’s offense was mild. Carter made Dana’s life miserable while Ross rotted in jail. That’s why I encouraged her to get out of Virginia as soon as she graduated.” She shot Jon a wry smile. “I didn’t tell anybody where Dana moved. I thought she would be safer here.”
“What happened to Dana is not your fault.” Jon pinned her with his dark gaze. “The innocent get hurt all the time, Brenna. You ought to know. You’re caught in the same web of violence that captured Dana. Don’t concern yourself with Harrison. If we don’t catch up with him beforehand, we’ll find him after we free Dana. He’ll pay for what he did to her. I promise you that. He’ll regret touching her.”
They finished the rest of their meal in silence.
Brenna had to admit she felt better after eating. Eli understood how the human body responded to situations like this. The sound of chimes from her cell phone caught her attention. The kidnappers calling or maybe Dana if she broke free? Brenna raced to her purse and dug out her phone. She frowned, puzzled at the number, one she didn’t recognize. “Hello?”
“Brenna, it’s Grace. I learned some information, but I can’t talk here at work.”
“Where can we meet you?”
“We? Who’s coming with you?”
“Eli Wolfe.” Silence greeted Brenna’s statement. Her hand tightened around the phone. “That’s okay, isn’t it?” It had to be all right. She doubted Eli would let her go anywhere without either him or Jon after what happened at the Wilson home a few short hours ago.
She glanced up. Eli leaned one shoulder against the wal
l, watched her with an intent gaze.
“I suppose. Look, I’m going to the Sartelli estate in another hour. Why don’t you meet me there?”
“Hold on, Grace.” Brenna placed her hand over the phone’s speaker. “Can we meet Grace at the Sartelli estate in one hour? She says she has some information but can’t talk to us at work.”
“Ask her if the gate guard will let us in without compromising her job or does she want us to meet her on a side street nearby?”
“Grace, will the guard let us in without causing you problems? We can meet you on a side street if you prefer.”
“The guard is a friend. He won’t sell me out. Drive to the back of the house. I have flowers to deliver for the Sartelli party this evening. See you in an hour.”
Eli straightened from the wall. “What did she say?”
“The guard’s a friend and we should drive to the back of the house.”
“Huh. Sartelli probably won’t be home at that time. I’d say there’s little chance of crossing paths with him, although I think we should talk to him today. I still think Sartelli is involved in Dana’s disappearance. I don’t want Grace in jeopardy, though. Maybe we can catch him at work while Grace is out. We should go see him right after we leave the Sartelli place.”
“He’s not like the other men you and Jon persuaded to spill what they knew. Sartelli has his own NFL-sized bodyguard who carries a big gun. How can we make him talk?”
He grinned. “Charm, baby. How can he resist me?”
Eli flipped on his right turn signal and headed up the steep Sartelli drive to the gate. A guard in a familiar Thompson security uniform approached the driver’s side of the car, clipboard in hand, a semi-automatic holstered at his waist.
He gritted his teeth, hoped Grace had left their names with the guard. Eli knew the owner of Thompson Security. Jason Thompson hired ex-military along with a few former mercenaries, none susceptible to the famous Wolfe charm. He made a mental note to call Jason after they found Dana. His friend might be interested in some of Sartelli’s rumored activities.