Freeze Frame

by Judith Rochelle

  “Yes, I’m here,” he said into his cell phone. “Remember. Make sure they aren’t harmed in any way.”

  “We will handle them with kid gloves,” the man on the other end of the conversation told him. “Royalty wouldn’t be treated any better.”

  “Cut it out, Nando.” The man’s arrogance irritated him beyond belief. “I know how the great cartel lord Victor Herrera treats his guests. And you take great pleasure in carrying out his unpleasant orders. I want these people returned in one piece. Hurting them isn’t part of the bargain.”

  Nando Aguilar’s low chuckle sent chills skittering along Rip’s spine. “But it is ultimately my bargain, is it not? I’m solving a problem for you, si?”

  “You know how I got into this,” Rip spat at him.

  “Nevertheless, a successful conclusion to the problem will benefit us both.”

  “And get you off my back once and for all.”

  The chuckle resonated again through the connection. “Only if you are able to control your hungry habits, mi amigo.”

  “I’m not your friend.” Rip began pacing back and forth, jingling the change in his pocket. “Once this is finished, so are we.”

  “We shall see. Yes, indeed, we shall see.” His tone changed abruptly. “As soon as we have them in place, I’ll make the video and send it as we agreed. Be sure to contact the others when you receive it. Then move forward with the next step. Are you ready for your part?”

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m all set.”

  “See that you are.”

  The connection was broken abruptly. Rip snapped the cell phone shut and shoved it into his pocket, swearing under his breath. If he could just get out of this with everyone’s skin intact, he’d never, ever, make the same mistakes again.

  * * * * *

  Kat lay in bed in her sister’s guestroom and tried to will herself to sleep but her mind was too restless. She’d checked her cell phone more than three dozen times and tried Mari’s number at least as many.

  Why oh why didn’t I get a number from her where they’d be staying. She said it was a client’s house. Someone named Rand Prescott, I think. Yes, I’m sure that’s what she said. I should have made her give me the damn number.

  She dozed off and on, waking frequently to check her cell phone in case she’d missed the ring but found nothing. Finally, when the red numbers on the clock beside the bed told her it was six o’clock, she threw back the covers and climbed out of bed.

  Booting up her laptop and going to the online phone directory, she looked up the number for the airfield in San Diego where Mari had said the Wright plane would be landing when they stopped for lunch and refueling. Nobody there could tell her anything, except that the plane was still hangared there and one of the pilots had called to say there was a change of plan. They wouldn’t be leaving for a couple of days.

  Kat could hardly believe that. If they were going to lay over in San Diego, Mari would have called to tell her. And she couldn’t call the Wright International office there for three more hours.

  Next she searched for the number in Waikiki for Rand Prescott. The housekeeper who answered was doing her best to conceal her anxiety but she knew nothing except the Wrights and Mari had been no-shows. She’d tried calling the cell phone number she’d been given but there was no answer. The same thing when she tried to call Mr. Prescott.

  When she called the police department in San Diego to see if some kind of accident had been reported they told her they had nothing. She should wait twenty-four hours, then call back. Same thing in Waikiki.

  Damn!

  Finally she went online and searched for any notices of a small plane crash in the past twenty-four hours. She had no clout with the FAA or the NTSA, so this was the best she could do. But the two accidents she found were on the other side of the country.

  After brewing herself a cup of tea in the kitchen, she carried it into the living room and stood by the big picture window, sipping at the hot liquid and trying to wipe the anxiety from her mind. When that didn’t work, she returned to her laptop and searched for the longitude and latitude of San Diego. Without specific pictures, she’d often used geographic coordinates for cueing and prompting. Finally she found a map of San Diego and brought it up full screen, carried the laptop to the window and sat down cross-legged, the computer beside her.

  Inhaling and exhaling five times, cleansing breaths the way Vivi had told her, she forcibly emptied her mind of all thoughts and took herself into a meditative state. Five minutes later she was ready to try to view remotely, hoping the meditation helped and that her powers wouldn’t fade in and out.

  She fixed the geographic numbers in her brain, stared at the map and sent her mind hundreds of miles away to California. In moments her “signal line” began to emerge, frequencies radiating and impacting on her perceptive faculties, the first hint of the emergence of the image she was seeking. Soon she began to perceive bits and pieces of a picture.

  A corner of a white stone building. A piece of sidewalk. Was that water? A motel with a pool? A sliver of sidewalk emerged, the image wavered and sharpened. As quickly it changed to a dusty road cut through towering trees and bushes. Then, everything wavered.

  Damn!

  It was gone. She was out of it. No, she could not lose it.

  Kat went through the routine again. Hot tea. Meditation. Focus on the map on the computer.

  This time the picture emerged a little more sharply and she could see the picture was a restaurant. On the water. People stood under the canopy but unlike the surroundings, they were too blurred to distinguish. A flash of black swept across her vision. A truck. No, a van.

  The image stabilized, frozen across the plane of her vision. The Wright family, Mari, some strange men.

  Then they were gone. Erased as if by a swipe of a cloth.

  The first thing she felt was exhaustion from the effort. The second was the sense of a terrible evil. Something was very, very wrong.

  Trying to control her panic, she grabbed her cell phone, checked once more to see if Mari had called, then dialed the number of her sister’s cell.

  Still no answer.

  She threw the phone onto the couch and flopped down next to it. What should she do? This was well past the time it should have taken them to arrive, get to the house where they were staying and settle in. What had happened in San Diego? Had they never even arrived in Hawaii?

  She needed help from someone who could get answers for her. Mike D’Antoni’s name snapped into her brain at once. He had more resources than anyone she knew and could cut more corners. He was picking her up for breakfast but she couldn’t wait that long.

  The clock in the kitchen read six forty-five. Too early to call?

  The hell with it. She needed to talk to someone now.

  Fishing the card he gave her out of her purse, she took a deep breath and punched in the cell numbers.

  He answered after only two rings. “D’Antoni.”

  “You don’t even sound like you were asleep,” she commented.

  “Kat?”

  “Yup. It’s me.” She swallowed hard, dredging up her courage. She knew she was really about to impose on him. On their relationship, which at the moment had no clear definition. “Sorry to call you so early but—”

  “No, no. It’s all right. Fine. What do you need?”

  Just like that. No questions. She took another long breath.

  “I wouldn’t call you if I knew what else to do—”

  “Kat,” he interrupted. “It’s all right. Just tell me what you need.”

  “I still haven’t heard from my sister. She knows to call me regularly so I won’t worry. I’ve checked missed calls and called her cell at least two dozen times. Mike, they never arrived in Hawaii.” She told him about her calls to the airfield, the house in Waikiki and to the police in both San Diego and Hawaii. “The airfield said they got a call about plans being changed and the police give me the same old line about waiting twenty-f
our hours. I can’t do that.”

  “What else?” he asked. “I can tell by your voice there’s something.”

  “I-I did a remote viewing session. I can explain it to you when I see you but I think something happened in San Diego.”

  “I’ll be right there. Put the coffee on. And Kat?”

  “Yes?”

  “Try not to worry until we know something.”

  Easier said than done.

  By the time she’d showered, pulled on jeans and a t-shirt and scraped her hair back into a ponytail, the coffee was done and Mike was at the door. When she saw him standing there, so solid-looking in his jeans and button-down shirt, without thinking she threw herself into his arms.

  In seconds she was enveloped in his warmth, his hands gently rubbing her back, his lips pressed to her forehead.

  “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! What’s going on here, kitten?”

  There it was, the old-fashioned nickname. Term of endearment. Kat. Kitten. He’d blurted it out one night in the midst of a particularly sharp exchange. Mike had half-smiled and said, “My, my, the kitten has claws. Who’d have known?” The name had become more affectionate than contrary and just seemed to stick.

  She held for a moment longer, then pulled herself away and looked up at him. “Oh, Mike, I’m so scared. Thank you for coming.” She let out a shaky breath. “God, you must have broken every speed record getting here.”

  “It sounded important,” he said simply. “How about we take this inside before we give the neighbors something to gossip about.”

  “Oh! Oh, sure. My god, you must think I’m a nitwit.”

  “Nothing like that at all.” He closed her door behind him, wrapped one arm around her and eased her out of the hallway. “How about that coffee? Then we’ll talk.”

  Her hands shook slightly as she took mugs from the cupboard and poured from the carafe. Handing one to Mike, she said, “Black, right? I remembered.”

  For one moment his eyes were hot on her. “I remember everything about you, kitten.” Then the look was gone. “Okay. Let’s sit down and you can tell me what’s got you so shook up this morning.”

  “You know I was worried last night because I still hadn’t heard from Mari. And couldn’t get her to answer her phone, either.”

  Mike nodded. “But we figured maybe what with the time difference and getting settled and all, she’d call after a while.”

  “She hasn’t called yet, Mike. I haven’t heard a word from her. And that’s not all. I don’t think they ever left San Diego.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What? Why do you say that?”

  “I barely slept last night so I finally got up and did a remote viewing session. You know, to see if I could ‘see’ anything.” She took a swallow of the hot liquid, cradling the mug in her hands. “I wouldn’t tell that to just anyone but since you already knew about my so-called gift and said your partners’ wives have gifts also, I thought…”

  “It’s all right.” He reached across the kitchen table and picked up one of her hands with his, lacing his fingers through hers. “I’m with you. So tell me again what you did.”

  “I decided to start with San Diego because they were scheduled to stop there for fuel and lunch.” She brushed a stray stand of hair away from her forehead. “If I didn’t ‘see’ anything there, then I’d try Hawaii but I don’t have enough information for that yet. I’d need to know where they were supposed to land and the approximate location of the house where they are supposed to be staying.”

  “Okay. So were you able to see anything?”

  “Not as much as I wanted.” She took another sip of her coffee and set the mug down carefully. “Remote viewing isn’t exactly what people think it is. A viewer can focus and send her or his through waves hundreds or even thousands of miles away. They find a signal line, like with radio waves, using photos or GPS locations or a variety of techniques. But it isn’t like turning on the television.”

  “So what is it like? What do you see?”

  “I see the scenes like pictures,” she explained. “Like images taken with an imperfect camera, where part of the images are missing. Then I focus…focus…focus and a shutter in my brain goes click! Freeze frame and there it is. Whatever there turns out to be.”

  “So what did you see?” he prodded.

  She told him what little she’d been able to gather. “Enough to make me believe something bad happened in San Diego,” she said. “I know it. I feel it. And Mike? Don’t think I’m crazy but I get a sense of tremendous evil involved here.”

  “I’ve learned not to disregard those kinds of feelings,” he told her. “Especially in the last couple of years.”

  “I just don’t know who to get hold of or how to go about tracking them down. I don’t even know the name of the people who own the house they’re supposed to be staying in.”

  He eased his fingers away from hers and reached out to cup her chin. “I can handle that. And thank you for calling me. Asking for my help.”

  She gave a hiccup-laugh. “You might not think that way if I’ve gotten you into some kind of mess.”

  “Our mess.” His voice was firm. “Okay. Let me make some calls.”

  He pulled out his cell phone. Kat refilled their coffee cups and listened while he called someone and asked for a list and all contact information for Wright International’s executive staff and the same information for any other members of the family—sisters, brothers, whatever. The last call he made was to Mark Halloran.

  “Mark and Faith will be here in thirty,” he told her.

  “Here?” Kat squeaked. “Ohmigod, Mike. I look like hell and I have nothing in the place to serve them.”

  “Not to worry,” he laughed. “They’ll bring breakfast.”

  “Okay, but I want to change my clothes.”

  “Kat?” He rose from his chair and went to stand in front of her, his big, warm hands stroking her upper arms. “Chill. You look fine. They’ll fall in love with you just… Just as you are. Come on. Sit down.”

  For a heart-stopping moment she thought he was going to say Just as I did but then the moment was gone. She was disappointed but relieved. She wasn’t ready to take that step yet. There were still too many land mines to avoid.

  “Just give me a minute to pull myself together. Please? I don’t want to look like a street urchin.”

  “You never could but go on, if that’s what you want to do.” He tipped up her face, pressed his mouth to hers and gave her what she could only describe as a sweet kiss. No heat. No sex. Just I’m here and you’re important to me. Then he tapped her on one cheek of her rear-end. “Now go on. Do your primping.”

  When the doorbell rang she’d managed to brush out her hair, pull on a pair of tan slacks and a simple short-sleeved sweater the same color as her eyes.

  I don’t know why I care how I look when Mari could be god-knows-where in god-knows-what kind of trouble.

  But she had the innate desire to look good in front of Mike’s business partner and his wife. And Vivi Alderson’s niece. She swiped gloss over her lips, took one last look and made her way to the kitchen, following the sound of voices. The small room was crowded with two very big men and a brunette who Kat thought was too gorgeous to be legal. Faith Wilding, the famous author. Here. In Mari’s kitchen.

  Then she took a look at the man standing next to Mike. As tall as Mike, he had broader shoulders and a lean but muscular frame. A thick shock of midnight black hair topped a rugged face with inky black eyes. He looked as serious as Mike.

  Mike turned as if he sensed her presence. “And here she is now. Kat Culhane, Faith and Mark Halloran.”

  She held out her hand and Mark shook it. “Pleasure meeting you, Miss Culhane.”

  “Kat. Please. Too bad it’s not the social occasion planned for later this morning.”

  “I’m just glad to meet you at all. My aunt raved and raved about you.” Faith stepped forward and pulled Kat into a hug. “You look like you need more than a handshake
.”

  Kat felt an instant connection with the woman, as if they’d know each other forever. “I don’t…I can’t…”

  “We’re fine. Everything will be okay.” She stepped back and gestured at a large open box on the counter. “We brought offerings from Krispy Kreme, the doughnut of the angels. Why don’t we all sit down and you can fill us in on the situation.”

  So Kat told her story once more, this time in greater detail as she explained about the trip, where the Wrights and Mari were going, everything she actually knew.

  “She’d call me unless something was wrong,” Kat insisted. “We’re very close. Since our parents died we only have each other.”

  “Okay, let’s see what the Dragonslayer’s got so far,” Mark said, turning on his BlackBerry and scrolling through it.

  Kat raised her eyebrows. “The Dragonslayer?”

  “Andy. Our resident geek. He runs the super-duper computer back in Baltimore that Dan Romeo, our senior partner, dubbed the Dragon. Hence the name.”

  “Okay, here we go.” Mark was punching buttons on his BlackBerry. “Names and phone numbers at Wright International. Ron Pelley, the executive veep. Andy sent his private numbers for home and office. Let’s start with him.” He tapped in the number.

  Kat curled her hands around her coffee mug, willing herself to a calmness she didn’t feel as Mark spoke into his phone. Mike sat down next to her and almost casually draped his arm across the back of her chair, his hand lightly squeezing her shoulder. Just from that tiny contact his warmth and assurance seeped into her. When she turned her head to look at him, he said in a low voice, “Things will be fine. We’ll take care of it.”

  And somehow she knew he would.

  “Okay.” Mark looked at everyone. “Pelley says he didn’t expect to hear from his boss until sometime today. He’s got Rand Prescott’s number at his office and all the rest of the information he might need. Apparently Prescott and Eli Wright have partnered on some projects. Pelley also said he’d check on the security detail that was supposed to be watching the Wright party while they were in San Diego. He expects to be there in about thirty minutes.”