Hero for Hire

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Hero for Hire Page 11

by Marie Ferrarella


  For a second they stood looking at each other, two strangers made into allies by a heinous crime, standing on opposite sides of a crumbling fence.

  "That's the one thing you can be sure of," he told her mildly.

  Yes, she thought, she could be. And she was pinning all her hopes on that.

  Chapter 10

  There was a pint-size baseball game going on in the distance when Veronica and Chad arrived at the park. Fathers and mothers could be heard coaching a collection of children hardly big enough to swing the lightweight bats placed in their eager hands. Cries of "Swing!" "Run!" and "Slide!" littered the air.

  On the surface, Westwood Park looked not unlike the dozen or so other play areas that had been carefully carved out by the city council in the midst of developments within the growing city. There didn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary or sinister about the park.

  But there was, Veronica thought. A kidnapper had traversed the grounds, placing a photograph in the women's rest room. Her son's photograph. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, she scanned the area, desperately trying to pick out the man who had turned her entire world inside out.

  "There."

  Chad's voice made her jump. She automatically clutched his arm before realizing that he was pointing to a small brick building toward the left side of the park. The rest-room area. For a moment she had thought…

  Dropping her hand self-consciously, she walked quickly to the structure just ahead of Chad. With each step she took, her heart hammered harder. What if there was no photograph?

  She didn't want her mind to go there.

  There was a rest room on either side of the southernmost wall, one for men, one for women. A public telephone sat between them. Unfinished garden apartments, in the final stages of construction, served as a backdrop. Similar dwellings, completed six months ago, stood overlooking the other side of the area.

  Their kidnapper could be anywhere, though it was more likely, Chad thought, that the man was hiding somewhere in the construction site. Access was easy; so was flight. There were just too many places to hide, too many places to search.

  He longed for a dog. A mutt like Jacques, part hound, part retriever. A wave of unexpected nostalgia hit him as he recalled spending hours with Megan trying to confound the dog with unique games of hide-and-seek. Jacques was old when they'd gotten him from the pound, but he'd had the keenest sense of smell. He could find absolutely anything they hid. All he needed was the slightest scent, and he was off and running.

  Jacques would have come in handy today.

  Veronica turned to look at Chad, the breathlessness in her voice giving away her agitation. "What if it's not there?"

  "It will be," he assured her with the conviction he knew she needed. They'd waited the allotted two hours, timing their arrival to be just a shade after the time the kidnapper had specified. She was hesitating, as if the extra moments were somehow insurance that the photograph was there. Chad looked around. No one was approaching. "I'd go in with you, but if there's anyone inside…"

  She nodded. She hadn't needed anyone to hold her hand since she was a little girl. "I'll be right out."

  He watched her disappear, his back to the construction site, careful to keep his body blocking visibility to the telephone. If anyone did see him, it looked as if he was checking to see if there was any change to be found.

  The door to the women's room swung open again. A young girl wearing a bright red Cardinals cap gave him a mildly curious glance before she dashed away, obviously heading for the game in progress.

  The next moment Veronica came out.

  She was holding up a four-by-six photograph of marginal quality for him to see. Chad moved in closer for a look. It showed Casey, holding up a newspaper against his chest, and took up the entire frame; nothing else was even remotely visible. The kidnapper, it appeared, was leaving nothing to chance, no inadvertent clues that would give the location away.

  Veronica saw what she needed to. "He doesn't look afraid." She studied the photograph intently. If she hadn't known that it had been taken by the kidnapper, she would have said that Casey looked very happy. "At least he's not being mistreated." Trying to remain hopeful, she surrendered the photograph to Chad.

  When the telephone rang the next moment, Veronica let out a small cry.

  "That will be our kidnapper," Chad guessed. "He's probably watching us right now."

  Eyes wide, she scanned the area again as she brought the receiver to her ear. Where was he? Why couldn't she see him? Did that mean that Casey was somewhere close by, too? The very thought made her want to scream into the telephone, demanding her son be set free. But instead, she struggled to curb her emotions and remain calm.

  "Hello?"

  She heard something crackle before she heard the metallic voice. "Satisfied, Ronnie?"

  She let out a shaky breath. "He looks like you're taking good care of him."

  "Why wouldn't I?" the kidnapper mocked. "Your boy's worth his weight in gold to me."

  Swallowing, she took a chance. "Can I talk to him?"

  The request brought an immediate change in tone. "You're not in a position to make demands."

  "It's not a demand!" she cried. For a brief second her eyes met Chad's. The sympathy she saw buoyed her. "Please?"

  There was a pause and then a shuffling noise. Something she couldn't make out was being said in the background. It was muffled by more noise. And then she heard, "Hi, Mom." It was as clear as day, no distortion, no interference. Veronica's heart contracted.

  "Casey! Are you all right, baby?"

  There was no response. When it finally came, the voice that answered her didn't belong to Casey.

  "That's all for now, Ronnie. Mustn't get greedy. You can talk all you want later. After I have my money. Bring the money to the Amtrak depot on Main Street at noon tomorrow. Put it in locker number 705."

  "Tomorrow?" Her heart sank. "Wait—wait!" she cried, afraid the connection would be broken. "Don't I need a key to the locker?" She didn't want to leave anything to chance. This had to go off smoothly.

  "So, you can use that head of yours." Hatred dripped from every mocking syllable. "You'll find the key taped to the underside of the telephone your hunky boyfriend's blocking."

  The connection went dead.

  Fighting mounting panic, Veronica quickly felt around under the telephone's frame even before she hung up the receiver. Her fingers came in contact with something and she yanked it away. She held it up in triumph as Chad took the receiver from her and hung it up carefully.

  "I got it," she said.

  He made no comment. Instead, taking her arm, Chad quickly ushered her back to where his car was parked.

  It was only when they were seated inside that he tossed something the size of a book of matches to her. "Hold on to this," he instructed, turning on the ignition.

  Still clutching the key in her other hand, Veronica picked up the device that had landed in her lap. She turned it over without recognition. "What is this?'

  "Another one of Megan's toys." He spared her a glance as they took a corner. "We've saved the kidnapper's voice for posterity—and for Rusty to run through his expensive machines to see what he can come up with. My brother's hobby is playing around with audio equipment. Maybe he can find a way for us to figure out just who the man behind the tin voice is." He wasn't sure how that worked without a voice pattern to match it to, but if anyone knew how to do it, Rusty did. "At least he might be able to clean it up enough to get a voice pattern out of it. Maybe figure something out from the background distortions."

  She hadn't even seen him put the device on the telephone—or remove it. To be that fast, he had to know what he was doing. "I thought you said you weren't good with technology."

  He lifted a shoulder, then let it drop. "I'm not. I just know how to push things into place."

  "No ego." She looked at him with quiet interest. "That's rather remarkable, considering what you do and how successful you've be
en at it." Not to mention that the man was exceptionally good-looking, as well, she added silently, but that was something she wasn't about to give voice to. It was bad enough that she felt it, felt an attraction that couldn't have any place in her life, at least not now. She had no doubt he'd had his share of women make themselves infinitely available to him.

  He saw no reason for what he'd just done to have fed his ego. "Not my glory alone. We each work our own cases, but there's always back-up. No room for ego in a team," he told her mildly. There was no such thing as competition between them. Bringing home every missing child they set out to find was the only goal.

  Veronica suddenly sat up, straining against her seat belt as she twisted around to look at him. "He called you hunky."

  "Excuse me?" It was obvious she'd gone off in a different direction, but not one he could immediately follow.

  "The kidnapper." Excitement built in her voice as she followed the thought through for Chad. "He called you hunky."

  Stopped at a light, Chad tried to concentrate on what she was saying and not on the way Veronica's breasts were rising and falling.

  "That means he could be a she, doesn't it?"

  "Could be," Chad allowed, stepping on the accelerator again as the light changed to green.

  "The kidnapper must have seen you. To call you hunky," she explained. "What do you think? Could he—or she—have been watching us at the park?"

  "A very distinct possibility," he agreed. "The kidnapper's no fool. He—or she," he tagged on, giving her theory its due, "picked that place deliberately. There were any number of places to watch from. By the time we found which one, he'd have disappeared again, taking Casey with him."

  So near and yet so far, she thought, trying not to let the desperate feeling take root again. They were moving this along. They knew the kidnapper's demands, knew that Casey was still all right and knew where and when to make the drop. By this time tomorrow, it would all be over, she promised herself.

  She looked down at the small device Chad had passed to her. "Did this really record the conversation?"

  "Should have, unless I did something wrong."

  Though it wasn't likely. Megan had made it sound pretty simple. "We'll find out soon enough. I'll drop it off at the office after I take you home."

  Veronica nodded, steeling herself for the ordeal of returning home. The thought of being there, knowing Casey was still somewhere out of reach, made it difficult to bear.

  As Chad pulled the car into the circular driveway, he saw the other vehicle that was already parked there. "Expecting anyone?"

  "That's Neil's car." She frowned and got out. She was no more up to seeing her brother-in-law today than she'd been yesterday. "God, I hope she's not with him."

  "Josephine?"

  Veronica nodded, taking out her key. "She's a little more of an airhead, a little more annoying than his other girlfriends. He's been with her for two months, which for him is a record. I think it's the novelty."

  Taking the key from her, Chad opened the door. "Novelty?"

  She found herself smiling at the gallant gesture. "She fronts a band. Plays guitar. Neil likes the idea of being on the fringe of show business."

  "Ever hear her play?"

  She shook her head. "No, just talk about playing."

  When they entered the living room, Neil was sitting on the sofa, thumbing through one of the magazines on the coffee table. He was on his feet the instant he saw them. To Veronica's relief, Josephine didn't appear to be with him.

  ''Where's your lady?" Chad asked.

  Neil looked affronted at the familiarity of the question. "Rehearsing." He addressed his answer to Veronica. "Been doing a lot of rehearsing lately. She has a gig coming up," he added proudly.

  Veronica didn't want to talk and she certainly didn't want to talk about Josephine and the new-wave music Neil had raved about the other day. "Neil, what are you doing here?"

  "Angela let me in." His tone was almost defensive. When he looked at Chad, there was distrust in his gaze. "I thought I should come by in case you'd heard something. Have you?"

  There didn't seem any point in hiding this from him. After all, she'd told the bank manager, and the only vested interest that man had was the bank. "The kidnapper made his demand. Three-quarters of a million dollars."

  Neil whistled in awe. "They don't mess around, do they?"

  "No, Neil," she said wearily, "they don't."

  Chad found himself disliking Veronica's brother-in-law, disliking the way the man almost mourned the amount that was leaving the confines of the family. He might care about his nephew, but he obviously cared about money more.

  "So what are you going to do?" Neil was asking.

  Veronica stared at him, wondering why he would even ask. "Give it to him, of course."

  Neil looked appalled, and then he brightened, as if suddenly understanding. "Top layer the real stuff, newspapers underneath, right?"

  "Wrong." Was he really saying what she thought he was saying? Did money mean that much to him? "Neil, this is Casey we're talking about."

  "Yeah, right." He looked miffed at the implied rebuke. "But you've got to admit that's an awful lot of money to throw away without any guarantees, Veronica." He took a step closer to her, driving home his point. "Just because you give him the money doesn't mean you'll get Casey back."

  Chad fisted his hands in his pockets. It wasn't up to him to tell the man what kind of scum he thought he was. He hadn't been hired to lay hands on undesirables who had nothing to do with the kidnapping. But his palms itched and he chafed against his own set of unspoken rules. This was personal, he reminded himself, and he didn't have the right to say anything.

  He didn't have to, for Veronica did. "Get out," she ordered, her eyes blazing.

  Uneasy, Neil stole a glance at the briefcase. "Hey, now, I'm only thinking—"

  "—of yourself," Veronica finished for him. "You think that if I give that money away, you won't be able to ask me for it." She knew him too well to listen to any feeble denials. She'd closed her eyes to his weaknesses because he was Robert's brother. But this time he had gone too far. "Your only concern is the money. Get out, Neil. Now."

  Panic had entered his eyes. He attempted to grab her arm to make her listen. "But—"

  Chad moved in front of Veronica, blocking Neil's reach. His eyes were cold.

  "You heard the lady. She's not going to ask you again. And neither am I." His voice was hard. When Neil made no move to leave, not out of defiance but out of sheer surprise, Chad grabbed the front of his shirt. "I'm guessing that maybe you're the type who needs to be shown…"

  Fearful, Neil raised his hands before him in complete surrender. "Okay, I'm going, I'm going." He let out a sigh of relief as Chad released his shirt. In a last-ditch attempt to save face, he looked at Veronica. "But think about what I said, Veronica. Make the guy give you some kind of guarantee that Casey's alive, for God's sake."

  Her brother-in-law had said more than enough to upset Veronica, Chad thought. Taking hold of the man's arm, he briskly escorted him to the door.

  "You used to have better taste," Neil shouted to Veronica over his shoulder.

  "If you know what's good for you," Chad informed him as he pushed him out the door, "you'll leave her alone." Striding back into the house, he met her stunned, slightly amused expression with a question. "Used to have better taste?"

  "He's referring to Robert," she answered.

  "Oh. I thought maybe he was talking about someone you went out with after Robert."

  She shook her head. "There hasn't been anyone since Robert. I just haven't left myself open to anything." She was getting maudlin, she realized, and this was not the time to let her guard down. She didn't want him feeling sorry for her because she was inadvertently saying that she was turning to him. She was, but that was her problem to work out, not his. Veronica lightened her tone. "Besides, I've been too busy."

  He accepted the excuse, seeing it for what it was. She was prote
cting herself. Not from him, but from pain. He understood that. Chad glanced toward the door. "It's none of my business, but I don't see how you put up with Neil."

  "I do it because he's Robert's brother." She took off her shoes, leaving them where she stepped out of them. "He's not really a bad sort, just shallow. Besides, Casey likes him."

  "He'll outgrow that," Chad commented, brushing off his hands without realizing it.

  She noted the gesture and smiled. "It used to be worse." When Chad raised his eyebrows, a habit she found herself getting accustomed to, she elaborated. "After Robert died, Neil got it into his head that he should step into his brother's shoes." She shrugged dismissively. At the time, she'd found the idea almost comical. "Something like the prince trying to take over his brother the king's position. Neil was very serious about it. It took me a while to make him realize that it wasn't going to happen between us."

  She laughed softly to herself. Chad waited to be let in on the private joke.

  "I think Neil had a difficult time understanding that, unlike the women he was accustomed to, I found him quite easy to resist. I mean, I like him, but certainly not in that way."

  He had no idea why that pleased him or why seeing her standing there, barefoot, struck him as vulnerable and stirring at the same time. But he knew he wasn't about to spend time puzzling it out. He had things to do.

  "If you'll give me the tape, I'll take it over to Rusty before he gets busy with something else." He waited for her to remove it from her purse. Slipping it into his pocket, he crossed the room to the door. "I'll give you a call if he comes up with something or if there's any news on our end," he promised, opening the front door.

  She stood, debating with herself before she finally gave in. "Come back."

  He stopped and I turned around to look at her. "Excuse me?"

  Did what she'd said sound as pathetic to him as it did to her? But she couldn't help herself. "After you drop that off at the office, come back."

  For a second he didn't see the point. "There isn't anything more that can be done tonight, Veronica."

  And then he saw her eyes and understood.

 

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