Texas Ransom

by Amanda Stevens

  What was it Heller had said about the security tapes? Kendall’s face was always turned.

  Graham hated the direction of his thoughts, but he couldn’t run away from this. He couldn’t hide from his suspicions.

  He hated that the FBI considered him a suspect, but he despised even more his growing doubts about his own wife. Five years ago she’d had an affair with his best friend. Graham had seen the evidence with his own two eyes.

  Had the affair continued? Were Kendall and Michael in this together somehow?

  What if they’d engineered the whole thing to extort money from him?

  His fingers tightened on the steering wheel. Stop it! Kendall would never do something like that. She loved him. She was committed to him. Whatever she’d had with Michael was over.

  But it wasn’t over. Because Graham had just found out about it, and it didn’t matter that five years had gone by. It didn’t matter that Kendall had changed. That he had changed. She’d cheated on him with his best friend. That wasn’t something Graham could forgive or forget. Not now. Maybe not ever.

  In spite of everything he’d just learned, though, his resolve to find her hadn’t lessened. He wanted her back. He wanted her safe.

  And then he would deal with the rest. Somehow.

  HE WAS only a few miles from home when Esteban’s phone rang. Glancing in his rearview mirror, Graham lifted it to his ear.

  “Pull over,” a voice told him.

  “I’m on the highway. There’s no safe place to stop the car.”

  “We know where you are, Mr. Hollister. Find a place and pull over.”

  Graham glanced in his mirror again, then putting on his blinker, he slowed and eased the car to the shoulder of the road.

  “Okay, I’m off the road.”

  “Turn off the ignition and take out the key.”

  Graham complied. “What now?”

  “Get out of the car.”

  His heart thudded against his ribcage as he opened the door and climbed out, his gaze immediately scanning the highway and the woods behind him. Was he about to be ambushed?

  “As soon as I hang up, I want you to go to the back of the car and open the trunk.”

  “Why?”

  The call ended and Graham snapped the phone shut and slipped it into his pocket as he walked to the rear of the car.

  He gazed around. The afternoon traffic on the highway was getting heavy. He could feel the tug of the rushing air as a steady stream of cars flowed past him.

  Using his remote, he popped the trunk but he didn’t immediately lift the lid. Part of him wanted just to leave it closed and run because he knew something bad was about to happen. He could feel it in his gut.

  He stood that way for a long moment until a horn sounded and he jumped. The car swished by without slowing.

  Graham turned back to the trunk. He waited for a gap in the traffic, then threw up the lid.

  The first thing that hit him was the smell of blood. His hand flew over his mouth and nose as he stared down into the trunk.

  Michael’s sightless eyes stared up at him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Michael’s face was ashen, his dark hair matted with blood from the entry and exit bullet holes in his forehead and at the back of his skull. His arms had been pulled back and fastened behind his back.

  He had been executed.

  Bile rose in Graham’s throat, and for a moment, he could hardly comprehend what he was seeing. His first coherent thought was that he had to get help. He had to call an ambulance and the police.

  But he almost immediately realized that an ambulance wouldn’t be necessary. Michael was dead. There was no mistaking that.

  And if he called the police, he would be their number-one suspect. He could be arrested, detained for days. What would happen to Kendall? And to his family? He certainly couldn’t rely on the FBI to protect them. He was their number-one suspect, too.

  Slamming down the trunk, Graham stumbled to the side of the car and climbed back inside. He turned the air conditioner on, positioning the vents so the cold air blew directly on his face.

  He felt weak and dizzy and too overwhelmed to contemplate what he should do. All he could think about at the moment was Michael, dead in his trunk. He’d been murdered in cold blood for no other reason than to prove a point to Graham.

  Wiping a shaking hand across his mouth, he closed his eyes in disbelief.

  The phone in his pocket started ringing. He pulled it out and lifted it to his ear.

  “Mr. Hollister?”

  Still he said nothing.

  “I understand. You must be in shock.” The note of false sympathy infuriated Graham. His hand tightened on the phone.

  “You son of a bitch.”

  “Call me what you like, but what happened to Michael Barron is your fault. I warned you not to go to the authorities. I warned you there would be consequences if you didn’t follow the rules. Now you know that I mean exactly what I say.”

  Graham glanced out the window as a truck sped by on the highway. His car swayed in the aftermath, and he thought fleetingly that he needed to get off the side of the road. It wasn’t safe with all the traffic.

  Safe.

  The concept was almost laughable, considering.

  Michael was dead, stuffed in his trunk, and somehow Graham had to keep it together.

  “That could just as easily be your mother or brother or niece in the trunk. Everyone in your family is vulnerable. And if you think the FBI can protect them, you are very much mistaken. Break another rule, and the fire at your niece’s school will be real next time.”

  Graham put a hand on the steering wheel and clutched it. “You touch her and I’ll kill you.”

  Esteban laughed. “You’re hardly in any position to make threats. You brought the FBI into the game, Mr. Hollister, and now I’m taking them out. It’s only a matter of time before they find the gun used to kill Michael Barron on your property, along with other evidence that will seal your fate.”

  “They’ll never believe it,” Graham said, but he knew that wasn’t true. Heller already suspected him of engineering Kendall’s kidnapping to cover up her disappearance. Michael’s murder would fit all too neatly into their preconceived scenario.

  “Oh, we both know they’ll believe it,” Esteban said. “It ties up everything very neatly for them so, of course, they’ll believe it. A warrant will be issued for your arrest. You’ll become a fugitive, a wanted man, but if you ever want to see your wife again, you’ll have to find a way to evade capture. If you can’t meet my demands, your wife goes away forever.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Do you still have the money?”

  “Yes.”

  “The price is now seven million. You have twenty-four hours.”

  Graham was starting to get a chill from the air conditioning, but he didn’t dare turn it off. The cold air kept him alert. “I can’t raise another five million overnight. I need more time.”

  “You have twenty-four hours.”

  “I’m telling you, it’s impossible! I can’t lay my hands on that much money that quickly.”

  “Perhaps not, but your brother can. He received a check for roughly that amount from the sale of your father’s ranch. The transaction took place this morning. The money should still be readily available in his account.”

  “How do you know about that?”

  “There is one other thing that we need from you, Mr. Hollister.”

  “What?” What else could they possible want from him?

  “We need a complete set of blueprints for the PemCo Tower.”

  Graham sat stunned.

  “Did you hear me, Mr. Hollister? Bring the blueprints to Houston and await my phone call.”

  “No.”

  There was silence on the other end. “You refuse? Then you leave me no choice. I have a man watching your brother’s house right now. Your niece is playing in the backyard. Would you like to know what is about to h
appen to her?”

  The call ended and Graham started to tremble. What had he done?

  The phone rang again and he snatched it up instantly. No one said anything, but he could hear a child’s laughter in the background. Then the phone went dead again.

  He waited in dread. The phone rang again and he said desperately, “Okay. You win. I’ll do whatever you say. Just don’t hurt her.”

  “The clock is ticking, Mr. Hollister. If I were you, I would not waste time talking. You should probably take care of business in Austin, and then get to Houston before the police issue an APB on your car.”

  GRAHAM caught the tail end of rush hour as he drove into Houston. The westbound lanes of 290 were stop-and-go, but thankfully he was going against the traffic. Heading into downtown, however, the streets and interstates were still heavily congested.

  He found a seedy motel on the south side of town and paid for two nights in cash. Then he drove around to the back and parked so that his car couldn’t be seen from the street.

  Taking the briefcase and blueprints with him, he got out, locked the car and walked away. He didn’t even go inside the room, but instead headed down the street to a pay phone he’d spotted earlier.

  It was after six, but Graham hoped to catch Terrence at the office rather than home. He didn’t want to talk to Ellie just yet. The guilt he felt over what had happened to Caitlin was still too raw, and he couldn’t let himself think about that right now, either.

  Terrence’s assistant, Evelyn Fletcher, answered the phone. Graham had known Evelyn for years. In her early sixties, she’d been his father’s personal assistant for nearly thirty years, right up until his death, and then she’d stayed on to work for Terrence. She was like part of the family, and she knew more about the business than just about anyone.

  She seemed surprised to hear Graham’s voice, and he supposed it was little wonder. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d called Terrence at work in the past few years.

  “You just caught him,” she said when Graham asked if his brother was in. “We were both about to call it a day.”

  “I need a favor,” Graham said. “And it’s probably going to sound a little strange.”

  “What is it?” Her tone grew concerned. “Is everything okay?”

  “It will be, but I need to talk to Terrence. And I need to make sure that no one else knows about this call.”

  Evelyn hesitated. “Does this have something to do with the FBI coming around yesterday asking questions about Kendall?” She lowered her voice, and Graham could imagine her surreptitious glance around the office. Evelyn was nobody’s fool. She had to know something was going on.

  “I can’t explain it right now. But I need you to give Terrence a message for me. Have him call me back at the number I’m about to give you, but not from the phone in his office. Not from his cell phone, either.”

  “Graham, what on earth is going on?” she asked worriedly.

  “I’m sorry, Evelyn. I hate involving you in this, but I need your help. And I need you not to ask any more questions. Will you give Terrence the message?”

  “Of course I will. You know I’d do anything to help you out. You and Terrence are family.”

  “Thanks. You don’t know how much I appreciate that,” Graham said. “Write this number on a piece of paper and hand it to Terrence. And don’t repeat it back when I give it to you. Understand?”

  “Yes, but, Graham…I wish your father was still alive. If you’re in some sort of trouble, he’d know what to do.”

  “It’ll be all right. Just give Terrence this number.”

  Graham finished the call and hung up. Evelyn was wrong, he thought. Even Nate Hollister wouldn’t have been able to get him out of this mess.

  AN HOUR LATER, Terrence arrived at the restaurant where they’d agreed to meet. Graham had a booth by the window so he could watch the parking lot and the front door.

  He didn’t recognize his brother when he first drove up. Terrence was driving an unfamiliar car for one thing, and for another, he had on a baseball cap and sunglasses. Not exactly his brother’s usual attire.

  As soon as he entered the restaurant, the cap came off. A moment later, he slid into the booth across from Graham.

  “You weren’t followed?” he asked anxiously.

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I left through the warehouse side door like you suggested. You can’t see it from the street or the parking lot. If anyone was watching the building they wouldn’t have seen me.”

  “What about the car?”

  “It’s Evelyn’s daughter’s car. She drove it to work today because hers is in the shop.” Terrence took off the sunglasses and laid them aside. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  Graham glanced out the window, his gaze automatically sweeping the parking lot. “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “How about with the two FBI agents that barged into my office yesterday morning asking questions about your relationship with Kendall? I thought at first it was just a routine interview. They were checking out everyone who had been at the reception. But it was more than that, wasn’t it? It didn’t have anything to do with the ambassador’s shooting. What do they think they have on you, Graham?”

  He gave their surroundings a quick scan. “They think I had something to do with Kendall’s kidnapping.”

  “Her kidnapping?” Terrence said in shock. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “She disappeared from the reception the other night. She called later and asked me to meet her at home. When I got back to Austin, four armed men broke into the house and told me that she’d been kidnapped. And unless I followed their rules, I’d never see her again.”

  Terrence stared at him in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier? Maybe I could have done something.”

  In spite of the situation, his tone annoyed Graham. “What could you have done? These guys are killers, Terrence. Cold-blooded murderers.”

  “How do you know that?”

  Graham glanced away, took a moment to draw a breath, then brought his eyes back to Terrence. “Because they killed Michael.”

  He could see Terrence’s mind working, trying to process the information. “No. That’s not possible. I saw Michael this morning. He came into my office and said he had some personal business to take care of. He was going to be out for the rest of the day…” The realization that he hadn’t seen Michael in hours hit him. “Graham, how do you know—”

  “Because I saw him,” Graham said. “He was shot.”

  Terrence stared at him for a long moment. “Where?”

  “I don’t know where he was killed, but they put his body in the trunk of my car. As far as I know, it’s still there.”

  A waitress ambled toward their table, but Terrence waved her away. For the longest moment, neither of them spoke.

  Then Terrence abruptly stood. “We need to get out of here. This isn’t a good place for a conversation like this.”

  He threw some bills on the table and Graham followed him out. They got in the borrowed car and Terrence started the ignition while Graham stored the briefcase and blueprints in the backseat.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  Terrence shrugged. “Damned if I know. But just give me a few minutes, okay? Don’t say anything else until I have time to get my head around this.”

  TERRENCE drove around aimlessly for a few minutes before finally pulling into the parking lot of a huge discount store. He parked at the back, away from the other cars, and shut off the ignition.

  “Are you sure Michael is dead?” he finally said.

  “Hell, yes, I’m sure.”

  “There’s no chance you could be mistaken?” His tone was strained, but calm. “Do we need to go back and make sure?”

  “He’s dead, Terrence. There’s no mistake.”

  “And you think the people who kidnapped Kendall are responsible? Why w
ould they kill Michael?”

  “Because I broke one of their rules. I went to the FBI after they warned me not to.”

  “So why kill Michael?”

  “Maybe because he was an easy target. And they couldn’t get to anyone else. You and Ellie and the girls have been under FBI surveillance since this happened. So have Mom and Gran.”

  Terrence’s eyes turned cold as he stared at Graham. “What?”

  “You’ve all been under FBI protection because the threat included my whole family,” Graham said.

  Terrence exploded in fury. “Damn it, Graham, and you didn’t tell me about this? How could you keep it from me?”

  He shrugged in helpless frustration. “I wanted to tell you. I knew you had a right to know. But Heller, the agent in charge of the investigation, said it would put the family in even more danger if a change in routine tipped off the kidnappers. Heller promised me they would keep you all safe. But now I know that he can’t keep that promise. Esteban proved that today.”

  Terrence turned. “You mean Michael?”

  “That…and other things.”

  Comprehension dawned on his brother’s face and he swore. “The false alarm at Caitlin’s school today. That was this guy…what did you call him? Esteban?”

  Graham nodded.

  Terrence rubbed a hand across his mouth. “That wasn’t the only thing that happened. Ellie received a strange phone call today from Ashley’s school. She was told there had been some kind of incident, but when she got to the principal’s office, no one knew anything about it. Ashley was fine. That call had something to do with this, too, didn’t it?”

  “I don’t know.” Graham hadn’t known about the phone call, but he had no doubt Esteban was behind it. He’d coordinated both incidents to prove how truly vulnerable Graham’s family was. “Have you talked to Mom today?”

  “A couple of hours ago. She and Gran are both fine.”

  But for how long? How the hell was Graham supposed to protect his family when he might not even be able to stay out of jail?

  He could feel Terrence’s eyes on him, and he glanced up. “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I could trust the FBI to protect you and Ellie and the girls. And Mom and Gran. But they can’t protect any of us. And now I don’t think they’ll even try.”