by Connie Mann
“If you were guessing, what’s she up to?” Nick asked.
Another pause. “You know about her uncle, right?”
Nick did, but he was surprised Sasha knew. “I do. From what I’ve dug up, he has his fingers in a lot of illegal pies, including drugs.”
“That doesn’t mean Cat is involved in any of that!”
“I didn’t say she was.”
“I think she’s trying to figure out if her uncle has Blaze and will try to get him to let her go.”
Nick was thinking the same thing. “Did Cat give any indication where her uncle is?”
Sasha snorted. “No. She barely said much at all about the man, telling me that the less we knew, the better. I don’t understand why she won’t let us help her!”
Nick almost laughed. “Don’t you? Didn’t you want to solve your own problem when you first got back to town, Sasha? To protect your family? And now you’re pregnant. Is it really surprising she’d try to protect you?”
“You sound just like Jesse,” she muttered. “But we can help.”
His estimation of the man went up another notch. “You are helping, by calling me.”
“You’ll find her?”
“I won’t stop until I do. Let me know if you hear from Cat.”
“You do the same,” Sasha said. “Find them both, Nick.”
“That’s the plan.”
But as he hurried to his SUV, he acknowledged he needed more than that. He had to know where to start looking.
Blaze pulled the hood down over her face when she heard footsteps. The scent of Mexican food reached her seconds before the door opened.
“Eat, senorita,” the female voice said. “You must keep up your strength.”
Blaze knew she was right but was having a hard time choking food down, some crazy corner of her mind afraid it was poisoned and she’d end up just like Teddy.
“Why you no eat your breakfast? I make good food for you.”
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled through the hood. Her stomach rumbled in response to the smells, and she pressed a hand to her belly.
“Eat. Please.” Then the door closed behind her.
Blaze pulled up the hood and slid closer to the tray. The tacos and refried beans did look good. And they smelled like heaven.
She carefully took a bite but didn’t notice any weird taste or smell, so she took another. And another. Before she knew it, she’d scraped the plate clean.
When the room started spinning, she realized she’d been duped.
The food had been poisoned.
She threw up, then slid toward the floor as her mind shut down and she fell unconscious.
Hope bloomed in Cat’s chest as she eyed her tennis shoes. If she could just get to them, she could cut these blasted zip ties and escape.
Easing off the bed, she moved as far away from the bedpost as she could, then stretched out her legs, trying to pull the shoes toward her.
She couldn’t reach.
She strained toward that left shoe, muscles screaming. She crept her toes forward, lost her balance, and the shoe slid farther under the bed. No!
She tried again. Sweat dripped down her back as she struggled, the zip ties biting into her wrists, but she ignored the pain. All her focus was on that shoe.
Where was it? It had slid too far under the bed for her to see, so she was feeling around blind, afraid she’d push it farther away without realizing it.
Come on, come on. Arms burning from the effort, she forced herself to keep tugging, keep reaching with her foot. She had to get it.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Cat climbed back onto the bed, pulled her knees to her chin, and glared as the door opened.
There was no way she was going down without a fight.
Nick itched to race off in search of Cat, but first he needed a destination. So, he did what everyone in Safe Harbor did when they needed information. He went to the Blue Dolphin.
Within minutes of his arrival, LuAn told him that Cat had been asking the same questions. And Avery Ames gave him the address of a property she had rented to an Asian man.
He arrived at the wrought-iron gate within minutes. When it swung open before he’d come to a complete stop, he realized there were cameras positioned outside the estate, too. Good to know.
He drove through and parked in the circular drive, tempted to whistle at the size of the place. Mansions like this required seriously deep pockets.
The black SUV he’d seen at the old farmhouse sat in front of the six-car garage at the side of the house.
The massive front door opened, and he recognized Phillip Chen, Wang’s driver. He was at the right place.
“May I help you?”
“Nick Stanton to see Richard Wang.”
“Please come inside. He’s been expecting you.”
Nick followed him inside, not sure how he felt about that.
The place was even more impressive from the inside. Whoever built it had spared no expense. Nick made note of all the closed doors along the corridor, mentally calculating an escape route, should one become necessary.
At the end of the hallway, Phillip opened a door and stepped aside for Nick to enter. Richard Wang sat behind a massive desk. “Thank you, Phillip,” he said and then waved Nick to a chair in front of the desk.
Nick sat down and studied Cat’s uncle. Well dressed, still in good shape, he had an unmistakable air of control. Nick could clearly see the family resemblance in the high cheekbones and dark eyes. There was no mistaking that these two were related.
But was Cat connected to his business?
“What can I do for you, Officer Stanton?” Wang sat back in his chair and folded his arms over his chest, showing his impatience. The whole house was cold, the air conditioning set at a temperature that accommodated the other man’s dark suit. Expertly tailored, it probably cost more than Nick made in a month.
“Where is Cat?” Nick tossed the question out and watched Wang’s eyes, looking for a reaction. Either the man didn’t care, had anticipated the question, or was a master at schooling his emotions, because Nick saw no reaction whatsoever.
“What makes you think I have the answer to your question?”
“She’s your niece, correct?”
“Correct.”
“You arrived in Safe Harbor just after she did.” It was not a question. Avery had told him exactly when she rented Wang the house.
Wang nodded. “But that does not mean I have knowledge of her whereabouts.”
“Oh, I think you have more than knowledge. I think you’re holding her. But I don’t know why.”
Wang shook his head as though disappointed. “You have not done your homework. I thought you had.” He spread his hands wide. “Why would I hold Catharine? Are you implying I kidnapped my own niece? To what end?”
“Maybe to keep her from talking about your involvement in Teddy Winston’s death?”
This time, he got a reaction, though Nick wasn’t sure if it was fake or not. “That young man’s death was a tragedy. His parents have my sympathy. But that had nothing to do with me. I know that you are investigating his death, but tossing out unfounded accusations is not the way to go about it.”
Interesting. Nick sat back and folded his arms, mirroring the other man’s posture. “So how would you go about it, then?”
Wang looked impatient. “I expect you have already questioned the local individuals rumored to have drug connections, like Eddie Varga and Captain Barry.”
Nick hid his surprise. For a guy who’d just arrived, he was well versed in the local players. Or did the man have local spies? Like Cat? He pushed that last thought away. “I’ve spoken to both of them. What do you know about scopolamine?”
Wang shook his head. “That is a powerful drug that should be carefully controlled. That it was somehow given to a local teenager is a rather frightening scenario.”
On that, at least, they agreed. Nick tried another tack. “If Cat’s not here,
you won’t mind me taking a look around the place, then.”
Wang almost smiled. “I may be sympathetic to your investigation, but without a warrant, that won’t happen.” He paused. “As you well know. Tell me, Officer, how much is Catharine worth to you?”
Nick hid his shock. “Are you offering me a bribe?” Richard Wang wasn’t stupid, not by a long shot, so what was he up to?
The silence lengthened. “I haven’t offered anything. I only asked a question.”
He wasn’t sure how to answer. He didn’t want Wang to think he’d take a bribe, not under any circumstances, so he simply said, “Cat matters to me.” He could have added any number of things, like the confusing mix of emotions she stirred in him, but that was none of Wang’s business.
“If I said I am fairly certain I know where she’s being held? How would you respond?”
Nick stood and pulled out his cell phone. “Give me the address.”
“Not so fast, Officer. There is something I want from you in return.”
Nick leaned over the desk, palms flat in front of him. He didn’t have time for this nonsense. “Where is she?”
Wang simply shook his head and gave Nick a smug smile that made him want to grab the man by the neck of his fancy tailored shirt and shake the truth out of him.
Nick stiffened as Wang simply continued to stare at him. “I don’t have time for your mind games. What is it you want?”
“Only a small favor, really. I quite like Safe Harbor, especially if Catharine decides to make her home here. I want you to make sure that local law enforcement doesn’t waste their valuable time watching me and my interests.”
Nick laughed. He couldn’t help it. The man had gall. He’d give him that. “You really think I’m going to turn a blind eye to whatever illegal activities you decide to set up here—and get everyone else to do the same?”
“You will if you want to know where Catharine is.”
He should have expected this, would have, under normal circumstances. But somehow, Cat had messed with his internal radar. She made him question everything he knew. From the moment he’d met her, he’d been following her into gray areas, where the truth got fuzzy and lines blurred. He didn’t like it. Until this moment, Nick had never had the slightest problem with moral decisions. Things were either right or wrong. Black or white. And he had no trouble whatsoever choosing what was right.
But this was Cat. He knew he was out of time. Every cop instinct he possessed was screaming that if he didn’t find her, fast, he’d never see her beautiful wide eyes mocking him again. Could he risk her life over his moral convictions? He’d never be able to live with himself if she died because of him.
“Do we have a deal, Officer?” Wang pressed.
The temptation to agree to whatever the man wanted for Cat’s sake yawned like the open mouth of hell itself. In his mind’s eye, Wang turned into the devil, tempting Jesus on the mountaintop with everything He wanted. Everything that was already His.
“I don’t make deals, Wang. I’ll find Cat.” He pierced the older man with a look. “But if I find out you had anything to do with her disappearance, there won’t be a hole deep enough to hide from me.” He turned to go.
“She stole from me.”
Halfway to the door, he stopped, looked over his shoulder. “What are you talking about?”
“Catharine. She stole fifty thousand dollars from me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “When?”
“Earlier today. If you agree to leave me and my associates free from legal entanglements, I won’t press charges.”
Nick snorted and kept walking. Once outside the mansion, he hurried to his SUV and left.
Had she really taken money from her uncle? If she thought she needed it to save Blaze, he didn’t doubt it for a minute. He’d have to deal with that later.
First, he had to find her.
As he drove, a little voice asked if maybe she took the money because she was working with the drug dealers in Safe Harbor.
He ignored it and hit the gas.
Chapter 28
Cat’s stomach continued to churn from the motion of the yacht, and she clenched her jaw to keep from throwing up. Closing her eyes didn’t help. That just seemed to make things worse.
She braced herself when the footsteps stopped right outside the door. Was this it? Was Garcia going to kill her outright or . . . She swallowed, refusing to picture the alternatives.
She didn’t move a muscle as she waited. After several minutes, the footsteps moved on again, and Cat allowed herself a deep, careful breath. She swallowed bile and redoubled her efforts to get to her shoes. If she could just reach her knife, she’d have a chance of getting out of here and finding Blaze before it was too late.
She stretched out again, as far as the zip ties would allow. Her shoulders strained against the position she was in, but she didn’t stop reaching. Her years of capoeira made her more flexible than most, but no matter how far she stretched, she still couldn’t quite reach her shoes.
She was panting and covered in sweat when the door suddenly swung open. She froze, leg outstretched. Manuel stood in the doorway. He eyed her position, then sent her an evil grin.
He set a tray on the shelf bolted into the wall beside the bed. He reached down and scooped up her tennis shoes, then tossed them out into the hallway. “I’ll just get these out of the way since you won’t be needing them.” He reached into a sheath at his side and pulled out a wicked-looking knife.
All the saliva in Cat’s mouth disappeared. Was this it? Was he going to stab her right here? She met his eyes defiantly. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of cowering. She’d go out with dignity.
Before she could say anything, he leaned over and slit the zip ties binding her wrists with one quick motion. Her arms dropped, and she gasped as the circulation rushed back into her hands. She rubbed them, her eyes locked on the man.
He stepped away from the bed, nodded to the tray he’d left. “Mr. Garcia says to drink up and consider what your foolishness has cost.”
He disappeared, and Cat’s eyes went to the tray. A liter bottle of tequila sat beside a photo. Her hand shook as she reached for the picture. She squeezed her eyes shut, then slowly opened them again. The picture didn’t change. It was Blaze, lying on a concrete floor.
Her skin had a bluish tinge, there was blood on the back of her head, and she looked like she was dead.
The boat kept up its gentle rocking, and Cat wrapped her arms around her middle. Please God, no. Please don’t let her be dead. Please.
She leaned over and threw up on the fancy carpet, panic clawing at her chest. She had to get out of here. She had to save Blaze.
She fell back against the headboard as defeat swamped her. If the picture was real, then she was too late. Blaze was already dead. She couldn’t save her.
This was all her fault, just like Garcia had said. If she’d only agreed to whatever he wanted, hadn’t tried to bribe him with money—what an idiotic idea!—then Blaze would still be alive.
Defeat hit her like a rogue wave, and she curled into a ball as bitter tears of regret ran down her cheeks. Despite everything she’d tried to do, Blaze was dead. It was all her fault.
She’d let someone else she cared about die. She hadn’t done enough. She hadn’t been fast enough or smart enough.
She’d been a coward. And because of it, smart, tough, spunky, wonderful Blaze was dead.
Her eyes went to the bottle of tequila. Temptation flashed in front of her eyes, even when she squeezed them shut, taunting her, calling her name. Just a few sips, and she could take the edge off the self-loathing. Maybe a few more, and the pain wouldn’t be so bad it hurt to breathe.
No. She wouldn’t give in. She swiped at the tears, forced the nausea down.
She picked up the picture again and cursed herself for the arrogant fool she’d been. When Blaze had asked for help, she’d said no. She’d left her to fend for herself because of some selfish, misguided b
elief that it would help her family.
Only it hadn’t. And now Blaze was gone.
Her hand trembled as she reached for the bottle. What did it matter if she drank herself into oblivion? No matter what she did, the people she cared about died. Because of her.
She fumbled with the top and finally wrestled the bottle open.
I’m sorry, Blaze. I’m so very sorry.
As Nick hurried away from Richard Wang’s mansion, he prioritized his next steps. He’d bet his police pension that Cat had gone after Garcia. Whether she had ties to him or not, he couldn’t worry about that right now. The only thing he knew for sure was that she wouldn’t quit until she found Blaze.
Wang and Garcia had a history and, from what he’d read, a long-standing rivalry. That they were both in Safe Harbor right after a teen died of scopolamine poisoning could mean he had a drug turf war on his hands. With Blaze and Cat caught in the middle.
He hurried back to the station and logged in to his computer, searching local property records. He didn’t think Garcia would buy or rent a place under his own name, but he didn’t want to miss the obvious. There was nothing. He called Avery Ames, but the call went right to voice mail.
“Avery, this is Nick Stanton. Call me as soon as you get this, no matter what time it is. Thanks.”
Then he hung up and went back to his computer, running every check and search he could think of to figure out where Garcia was hiding out.
Chapter 29
Cat felt like she’d been turned inside out. She couldn’t remember ever hurting this bad. Outside the porthole, the night was dark and quiet, adding to her sense of isolation. She rubbed her chest, feeling like she’d swallowed shards of glass. Blaze had gotten under her skin in ways that surprised her. Maybe it was because the teen reminded her of herself at that age. Tough and with a huge chip on her shoulder, trying to keep anyone from getting close enough to hurt her.
Blaze had crossed those barriers and had asked for help. A huge thing. And like the idiot she was, Cat had said no. Somehow thinking that would protect her.