by Erin Wade
There was no sign of the valet, but the keys were in the truck, so I started it and returned to Alex.
There was a commotion at the valet stand. I got out of the truck to see what was happening. The valet was sitting on a stool while a waitress dabbed his head with a napkin. He had a nasty gash from his hairline across his forehead.
“Oh thank goodness you have your truck!” The valet grimaced as he stood. “I thought someone was stealing it. They knocked me out when I opened the door and—”
Ice water infused my veins. “Alex! Alex!” I yelled as I looked around for my wife. “Where is my wife?”
The blank stares on everyone’s faces told me they had no idea where she was.
A single silver lamé stiletto lay on the curb in front of the valet stand. I picked it up.
“I’ve called the police,” the maître d’ informed me before scurrying off to calm the patrons.
I jumped back into my pickup and left. I called my father. “Dad!” I fought the panic that was rising inside me. “Dad, they’ve kidnapped Alex.”
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Headed to our apartment.”
“I’ll meet you there, Sloan.”
“Bring my LC,” I told him. “I need a fast car, not this pickup.
I gunned the pickup truck through traffic, barely avoiding several accidents. There’s a reason I liked fast cars; they got me where I wanted to go in a hurry. Trucks, not so much.
Mom and Dad were already at the apartment when I arrived. They followed me into the foyer.
“Sloan, what happened?” Dad asked.
“You look ravishing,” Mom interjected.
“We went out. When I went to get the truck, they kidnapped Alex.”
“They who?” Dad said, his voice thick with worry.
“I’m pretty certain it’s the people I work for.”
“Who the hell do you work for, Sloan?” Dad was getting worked up.
“I have to go.” I charged into the bedroom and returned minutes later in what Alex calls my soldier of fortune outfit, complete with the bullwhip. Dad and I traded car keys, and I gave them both a hug. “You haven’t seen me,” I reminded them.
“When will we see you again?” Mom called after me.
“When I find Alex!”
##
It was after midnight when I parked on the hill overlooking our ranch. The night-lights were on in the arena and the barn. For over an hour, I watched for anyone who might be observing my home.
I finally thought it was safe to enter my house but decided to approach on foot. It took me over an hour to slip into the back door.
I had no idea where I kept my runner’s kit or how heavy it might be. I recalled the layout of the house and quickly located our bedroom.
The room was so . . . Alex. Exquisite furniture surrounded a king-size bed. I searched through the closets and found nothing but clothes and shoes. I collapsed onto the loveseat and looked around the room.
Out of the blue, it hit me—there was a false wall at the back of my closet. I located the lever to open the hidden door and found myself in a room that looked more like a military arsenal than a woman’s safe room.
I grabbed a Glock 17 with a standard eleven-round magazine, a couple of 33-round clips, and three boxes of bullets. A duffle bag sitting inside the door caught my eye. I opened it and found money, along with passports, driver’s licenses, and credit cards in various names. A stun gun, six grenades, and a cylinder of pepper spray were tucked into an interior zippered pocket. I stuffed the guns and bullets into the bag.
A pair of custom-made, leather knee boots were in the bag. I examined them and was surprised to find that the attractive decoration that ran down the sides of them held long, slender knives. I changed boots.
I must lead one hell of a dangerous life.
I looked around the bedroom and memories flooded my mind: Alex laughing; Alex teasing me until I begged; Alex poised above me in the dark.
I hefted the duffle bag over my shoulder. I had everything I needed to get my wife back, and God help anyone who stood in my way.
##
Chapter 23
I was almost back to Dallas when Dad called. “Sloan, a woman just called and said for you to call her at this number. It’s urgent.”
I pulled to the side of the road and dialed the number Dad gave me.
“Leigh Redding,” the voice on the other end of the line said.
“Leigh, this is Sloan.” I tried to remain calm.
“Sloan, where are you?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“Where do I need to be?” I replied.
“Here, in Washington. You need to bring in your evidence.” Leigh was almost whispering. “Honey, everyone is searching for you. I don’t know what you have, but there has been a steady stream of African leaders through here since you disappeared. None of them look very happy.”
“Where’s Ross?” I asked.
“I don’t know that either, Sloan. I can’t find out anything. You two stirred up a hornet’s nest in Africa.”
“Leigh, I have no idea what we uncovered. I do know that someone has kidnapped Alex. I must find her.”
A long silence greeted my declaration.
“Leigh, who is my handler?”
“I don’t know,” Leigh huffed. “All three of us have a different handler to prevent corruption in our agency.”
“Is there corruption in our agency?” I asked. “Is there a mole?”
“I don’t think so. Sloan, please come in, for your safety.”
“I’ve got to go.”
“San Antonio,” Leigh whispered quickly. “She’s in San Antonio.”
I hung up the phone and slipped the battery from it, just in case they traced my call.
##
The first light of day reminded me that I hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours. I pulled into a Holiday Inn Express behind a Cracker Barrel in Burleson.
Using a Texas driver’s license and a credit card I hoped would work, I requested a single room. To my surprise, everything went without a hitch.
“I hope you enjoy your stay with us, Miss Denton,” the clerk said as she returned my credit card and driver’s license along with a receipt. “Per your request, I have put you on the third floor next to the stairwell.”
I stared at my driver’s license as I waited for the elevator door to open. Dixie Denton! I wondered who in the hell gave me a name like Dixie Denton. I’ll probably be mistaken for a stripper.
I showered, lodged a chair under the door handle, and fell into bed. I was surprised at how fast thoughts of Alex merged into dreams of Alex as I fell asleep.
##
I awoke and reached for Alex. Something twisted in my stomach when I realized she wasn’t there. It was the first time I’d awakened without her beside me since we escaped the African hospital. It was a cold, lonely, gut-wrenching feeling.
I stared at the ceiling, trying to formulate a plan to get her back. Life wasn’t worth living without her.
The only reason anyone would kidnap my wife was to use her as leverage to get the evidence I had—somewhere. I racked my brain trying to recall where I would send something so important.
Most of my memory had returned, except the last year or so and some chunks of my college days. I remember the day I stumbled into my dorm room and saw Alex propped up on her bed reading. She was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. Even now I became slack jawed when I thought of her.
My stomach growled, and I looked at the clock. It was six in the afternoon. I decided to eat at the Cracker Barrel across from the hotel and then head to San Antonio. I dressed and took one last look around my room to make certain I wasn’t leaving anything.
If Leigh knew Alex was in San Antonio, that told me the agency—whoever that is—had my wife. I intended to go to San Antonio, flash around Alex’s photo, and ask if anyone had seen her. That should result in a contact from her captors.
Out of habi
t I pulled back the drapes and checked my car. The coupe looked like a luxury vehicle but was greased lightning on four wheels. The ten-speed automatic transmission could go from zero to sixty miles per hour in four seconds. The silver color helped it blend in with the millions of other silver cars on the road. With a 470-horsepower engine, it could outrun just about anything with wheels. I was even beginning to like the front grill that looked like a giant bug catcher.
Alex and I had purchased the Lexus LC before I left for Africa. I was itching to get it on the road and open it up.
What the . . . ? As I peered from behind the drapes, three Mexicans—two men and a woman—walked to my car and looked around to make sure no one was watching them. One of the men stooped down and placed his hand under the rear end of the car. I was certain he had attached a magnetic tracker to my gas tank. I was sure they weren’t with the agency. I wondered how many people were after me.
The trio moseyed across the parking lot and entered the Cracker Barrel. They weren’t worried about watching me, knowing their tracker would allow them to catch up with me somewhere down the road. Losing my appetite, I grabbed my duffle bag and hurried to my car.
I tossed my bag into the passenger seat and walked to the back of my car. I bent down and looked under the vehicle. The tracker was easy to spot. The three must be amateurs.
I pulled the tracker from my gas tank and slapped it onto the side of a horse trailer as it slowly moved through the parking lot. I watched as the horse hauler turned onto I-35W and headed north, the opposite direction from my planned route.
I stopped at a Walmart on my way out of town and purchased another burner phone. I put the battery back into the phone that Alex would dial, just in case she tried to call me. She hadn’t, but I had a call from my Dad.
“Thank God,” Dad exclaimed as he answered the phone. “Sloan, you need to contact Leigh. She’s worried sick about you. She says it’s an emergency. She has news about Alex, but she said she couldn’t share it with me.”
“I’m on my way to San Antonio,” I told him. “I’ll let you know when I get there. Call if you need me.”
I texted my parents the number to my new burner phone using our standard cryptic method—the first six digits to my mother and the last four to Dad.
The one-word text, “Good,” from my father told me he had the new number.
I pulled onto I-35 headed to San Antonio and dialed Leigh’s number. The phone rang several times, and I was about to press the button to end the call when Leigh answered.
“Leigh, it’s Sloan. Dad said you have information on Alex.”
“Sloan, I’m so glad you called. I couldn’t talk earlier. People were in my office.”
I grunted. I was in no mood for small talk.
“Alex is being held in a deserted quarry somewhere around San Antonio,” Leigh informed me. “I’m trying to find out the exact location.”
“There must a hundred deserted quarries in Bexar County,” I thought out loud. “Leigh, who has kidnapped her and why?”
“I’m not certain,” Leigh said, “but it must be someone who believes she’s still important to you.”
“She is the most important thing in the world to me,” I declared. “I’ll call you when I get to San Antonio.”
“Sloan, listen to me—”
I hung up the phone and removed the battery.
I reached San Antonio a little after one in the morning and checked into a motel for a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow I would find my wife.
##
Chapter 24
I showed Alex’s picture up and down the River Walk then went to the San Antonio Visitor’s Center, where I was lucky enough to get a map of all the quarries in Bexar County. I scowled as I searched through the pages of listings for operating and abandoned quarries.
San Antonio had done an incredible job of converting old quarries into shopping malls, complete with movie theaters and high-end restaurants. Chic apartments and lofts now enhanced old concrete walls and silos. Whoever had the foresight to convert old eyesores into beautiful, updated shopping malls deserved a pat on the back.
I spent the rest of the day showing Alex’s photo to employees at every shop in the Rivercenter. After trudging through over a hundred shops and talking to more than three hundred people, I slumped into a chair at Tony Roma’s and ordered a rack of ribs
I was hungry, exhausted, and heartsick. The more the memories of my life with Alex returned, the more it hurt to be away from her.
By the time I finished my dinner, lights were dimming in the Rivercenter. The giant shopping mall closed at nine. I hopped a river taxi and went to the Marriott River Center Hotel at the end of the river.
The hotel was one of our favorite places. It had special meaning for Alex and me. We loved the piano bar on the second floor overlooking the hotel lobby. Alex loved Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. I always slipped the piano player a twenty with a note to play the piece for her. Alex would hug my arm between her breasts as she whispered into my ear how much she loved me.
I sat down at the table we always shared and ordered a Dubonnet on the rocks. I scribbled my request on a napkin, folded it around a twenty, and asked the waitress to give it to the pianist.
I sipped my drink as he played the rhapsody and recalled how this was the exact setting where I’d asked Alex to marry me. God, I must find her.
I tossed enough money on the table for my drink and a nice tip and headed for the elevator. As the door slid open, a hand shoved me into the elevator and pushed the Stop button as soon as the doors closed.
As I whipped around, my hand shot behind my back and gripped the handle of the Glock tucked into my waistband. I was face to face with my waitress. “May I see that photo again?” she asked.
I pulled the picture of Alex from my hip pocket and held it out to her.
“I haven’t seen her in person,” the waitress said, “but I think I overheard two black men talking about her last night. They had foreign accents—British, maybe.”
“What makes you think they were talking about her?” I asked.
“They spoke of her beauty, and they had a ring that looked like the one you’re wearing.”
My heart stopped beating as I gasped for breath. “It must be Alex. Do you know where they are?”
“I believe they’re staying in the hotel,” she said. “They signed their check to their room last night. Come back to the bar, and I’ll see if I can find their bar tab.”
I nodded. “I’ll get off in the lobby. You go back to the bar, and I’ll walk up the stairs and return to my table.”
“Another Dubonnet?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Sure,” I said.
Soon after I returned to my table, she served me another drink, placing it on top of a cocktail napkin. “Their room number,” she whispered.
I finished my drink, tossed a fifty on the table, and slipped the napkin into my pocket. I took the stairs down to the lobby and checked into the hotel. I requested a room on the same floor as the two men.
I was surprised to find myself in the room next to them. I listened for several minutes, trying to hear any conversation the two might be having. I racked the Glock, replaced it in the waistband of my jeans and tried to formulate a plan.
If they had Alex, the easiest thing would be to follow them, but I had no idea what kind of vehicle they were driving or where it might be parked. I knew I couldn’t retrieve my car and follow them. I opted for the direct approach.
I heard the shower turn on and thought the gods might be with me. Grabbing the can of pepper spray from my duffle bag, I shook it as I walked into the hallway and knocked on their door. I turned so only my profile would be visible through the peephole.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty thing?” the man said, leering at me as he opened the door.
He was muscular and over six feet tall. I knew my only chance was to surprise him. I soaked his face with the pepper spray, and he went to his kn
ees, clawing at his eyes and gasping for breath. I hit him as hard as I could with the butt of the Glock. He sprawled on the floor at my feet.
I unfurled the bullwhip and pressed my back against the wall as his partner charged from the bathroom.
“What the hell?” He growled scanning the room. As he turned, the whip wrapped around his throat, and I yanked it downward, pulling him to his knees.
By the time he realized what was going on, I had the barrel of the Glock pressed into the space between his eyes.
“You have my wife,” I hissed. “Alex Cartwright. Where is she?” I pulled hard on the whip, and he clawed at it with his hands, trying to slide his fingers between the leather and his throat.
“Tell me!” I demanded as he gulped for air. His fingers worked frantically at the leather cutting into his skin. “One more pull and I’ll crush your windpipe,” I warned him.
“Tejas Quarry,” he said, sputtering out the words.
I had seen the Tejas Quarry listed in the abandoned quarries pamphlet. I wanted so badly to kill him, but opted for giving him a concussion instead as I swung the butt of the Glock into his temple.
I checked the pockets of both men. Alex’s ring was in the pants pocket of my first victim. Their wallets gave me no clue about the country employing them. I took their wallets, guns, and cell phones. I slipped a knife from my boot and slit the sheets into strips. I tied their feet and hands, rolled them over on their stomachs, and tied their hands to their bound feet. I stuffed a wash cloth into their mouths and tied gags in place so they couldn’t spit out the cloth or call for help. I trussed up both men like Christmas turkeys.
I grabbed my can of pepper spray, closed the door to their room, and hung the Do Not Disturb sign on their door. I needed all the time I could buy to get to Alex.
I retrieved my duffel bag and headed for the car.
I keyed Tejas Quarry into my GPS and pulled out of the Rivercenter parking garage as Siri began talking to me. The GPS showed the quarry to be an hour and a half from my location.