Daddy to the Rescue

by Susan Kearney

“What does that tell us?” Sara asked, clearly trying to distract herself from the upsetting wrong number.

  “The man’s got a mistress,” Logan guessed.

  “Expensive dinners, flowers, jewelry. Oh yeah, he’s cheating on his wife,” Ryker confirmed.

  “Do you have a phone number and address for his mistress?” Kirk asked.

  “Sure.” Ryker handed him a slip of paper.

  Sara looked to Kirk with a mixture of agony and hope. He explained his theory as he dialed. “I’m betting that if Garth took the baby, he brought her to his mistress.”

  “Don’t be direct,” Logan warned.

  “Not to worry.” Kirk waited for the woman to answer.

  On the fourth ring, she finally picked up the phone. “Yes?”

  Kirk spoke in a bored tone, adding a touch of a southern accent. “I’m calling from Miami Carpet Service. Would you like your free cleaning tomorrow morning or afternoon, ma’am?”

  “Carpet cleaning? You must be mistaken.”

  “Is your address 54821 Palm River Drive?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you’ve won three rooms of free cleaning.” Kirk hesitated. “Unless you want me to cancel?”

  When he heard the distinct cry of a baby in the background, his hopes escalated but he tamped them down. The woman was silent, and Kirk put his hand over the mouthpiece.

  Ryker’s magic fingers searched through airline databases. “I’m finding clues on Garth’s credit cards. Cross-checking with the airlines. I’ve found a plane ticket for Garth Davis from L.A. to Miami. Apparently he isn’t using false ID.”

  “It’s more difficult to get since September eleventh,” Logan muttered.

  “Thanks to the equipment we confiscated for the government last month,” Jack Donovan added. “What’s the ETA on the flight?”

  “Arrived a couple of hours ago.”

  Garth’s mistress finally responded, sounding flustered. “Come tomorrow morning.”

  Kirk hung up the phone. “I heard a baby crying.”

  “Can you book us on a flight to Miami?” Kirk asked Logan, already standing and eager to go after his child. As if sensing the urgency of the mission, Pepper also rose to her feet, her eyes alert.

  Logan spoke to Ryker. “Contact the Air Force. The whole team’s relocating to Florida.”

  Sam Brandson stood. “If you won’t be needing my services, I’ll head back to—”

  “If you haven’t yet completed the hardware modifications, I’m afraid you’ll have to come with us,” Logan gently told the man.

  “But my trial?”

  “I’ll have the judge postpone.”

  “But—”

  “Please.” Sara stood, too, her eyes wide, her tone sincere. “We may need your help. They may not turn over our baby unless I can show them a working program.”

  Sam really had no choice, but he didn’t realize it yet. From his side vision, Kirk saw that Web was closing in and clearly intended to use force if necessary. As if reading Web’s mind, Jack Donovan’s hand had gone to his weapon.

  Travis, the negotiator, eased in, realizing force wouldn’t be necessary. “Thanks for agreeing to help us, sir. Our government is in your debt.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t leave,” Sara said. “Suppose the kidnapper calls back with a place to bring the ransom?”

  “I’ll forward all calls to a special cell phone.” Logan held up a spare phone and gave it to Sara. “For all practical purposes, the kidnapper will believe we’re still here in California.”

  Thirty minutes later, Jack Donovan flew them out of California at supersonic speed.

  BY MORNING LOGAN HAD LEASED a van, and a sign painter had worked through the night on triple time to paint on the side panel a professional advertisement in red and blue that read Miami Carpet Service.

  Sara and Kirk had wanted to go to the house as soon as possible, but Logan had sent Web to watch the perimeter and had convinced them to wait until morning. He didn’t want to go in, guns blazing, for fear of the baby’s safety. Better to sneak in under-cover.

  At least they knew with some certainty that Garth was the kidnapper. From inside a holding cell at the Los Angeles police station, Gail had identified Garth Davis from a photo as the man who’d taken the baby from her outside the bank. The grandmother had cooperated fully with the District Attorney, and the DA believed she’d done so, not to wrangle a lighter sentence, but out of genuine concern for another child. The DA had also passed on the news that Gail’s granddaughter had had the bone-marrow transplant and was doing as well as could be expected.

  Although Sara and Sam had spent half the night preparing the drive to work with her program and she was exhausted, she still couldn’t relax. Jack and Travis had spelled Web at Garth’s house, saying they’d seen his mistress—who they now knew to be Rita Hernandez—through the windows several times, but not the baby or Garth.

  In the end, Sara decided that Web’s alterations were undetectable and told him they could go with the machine with the programmed virus—which would self-destruct on the second run. After spending the past twenty-four hours with these men, Sara trusted their judgment more than she had earlier, and she didn’t want Garth to steal her work and then sell it to a terrorist organization.

  She and Kirk had spent the rest of the night together, not talking, but she’d taken comfort from his presence. Being alone would have been intolerable. And when he’d embraced her, she’d accepted his comfort in the manner in which it was given, freely, no strings attached.

  Before the team had departed for a few hours of sleep, Sara had insisted on riding in the van with the men the next day. Logan hadn’t argued, which pleased her. She’d assured him that she would stay out of the way, but needed to be there when they rescued Abby.

  Perhaps the lack of energy was as much physical as mental. Although she wasn’t pumping as much milk as Abby usually ate, her milk hadn’t dried up and the painful process had taken a toll. Or perhaps she hadn’t yet fully recovered from the ordeal on the mountain. But this past week had changed them all. Although at nine months of age Abby could now drink from a cup, and Sara had intended to switch her to baby food soon, Sara resented that Garth and his greed had taken the decision out of her hands.

  More than anything in the world, Sara wanted Abby back. Her heart almost broke every time she thought of all the things that could go wrong. Garth might not give up the baby easily. And the thought preyed on her mind that none of the observers on Logan’s team had spotted Garth or the baby.

  And things between Kirk and her remained unresolved. When she had booted him out, he’d gone too easily. Kirk was stubborn and she’d been sure he would try to win her back. That he would come to her side when she and Abby needed him, without hesitation, without any I-told-you-so’s, only proved that he may have lost a battle, but fully intended to win the campaign.

  Finally morning arrived.

  Garth’s mistress, Rita Hernandez, was expecting to have her carpets cleaned this morning. But would she let them through the locked gate? Sara sat tensely beside Kirk on the back bench of the van carrying the name Miami Carpet Services. Logan drove the van; Travis took over the front passenger seat. Web and Jack were hidden on the grounds, and Sam had flown back to California.

  The neighborhood of sprawling homes on the intracoastal waterway was inhabited by the rich and famous. Huge royal palm trees stood like sentries outside elaborate fences and gatehouses. All the mansions in the area seemed to have locked gates and security cameras.

  Logan checked his weapon, keeping the gun below the dash and out of sight before reholstering it at his ankle. The man appeared as natural in his crinkled white uniform as he did in his expensive suits. He may have looked like a man from the carpet service, but his tone conveyed authority.

  “Everyone keep your heads up. By now, Rita may have spoken to Garth and warned him about the free carpet cleaning.”

  While a stationary, remote camera focused on the van, Logan p
ulled up to the gate and pressed a button next to a speaker. “Miami Carpet.”

  Would the woman let them inside? Beside Sara, Kirk twined his fingers through hers, just as tense as she was. Sara held her breath, one hand in Kirk’s, the other rubbing the cell phone.

  A SERVANT BUZZED THEM through the front gate and instructed Logan to enter through the side door. Apparently the front entrance was reserved for guests and family.

  Logan parked, and Sara and Kirk stayed in the van. Logan exited the vehicle and entered the house with paperwork on a clipboard. Travis opened the back of the van and unloaded a machine.

  She couldn’t see Web or Jack, but she knew they were somewhere on the grounds, watching the premises. With the air-conditioning off and the windows open, the van quickly grew warm as the minutes ticked by.

  For the next half hour Kirk and Sara waited in the warm vehicle and drank bottled water. She could barely swallow but forced the water down. Sara tried not to think how she would react if Logan didn’t come out of that house with Abby cradled in his arms. She tried not to think about the future. Tried not to think at all.

  Finally Logan returned to the van. His arms empty. No baby in sight.

  Sara started to shake. Logan slid behind the wheel, and Web and Jack appeared from the tropical shrubbery and took the middle seats. The men’s faces were grim, yet expectant.

  “She wasn’t there?” Abby asked.

  “Garth got suspicious about the phone call about our free carpet cleaning,” Logan explained as he drove out the front gate. “Rita says he disappeared with the baby last night within ten minutes of our call.”

  Kirk frowned and held Sara tightly. “Rita cooperated?”

  “She was suspicious of Garth showing up with a baby and a wild story that didn’t make sense. She wanted no part of his scheme. When I pointed out that she could be seen as a co-conspirator because she didn’t call the police, she became very cooperative.”

  Sara spoke through a mouth dry with tension despite all the water she’d sipped. The air conditioner hummed but would take a while to cool down the vehicle. “Did she say where he took Abby?”

  “She doesn’t know.” Logan shrugged. “Rita could be lying, but I believed her. She gave information freely and intended to pack her clothes and vacate the premises. Even gave us her parents’ address, where she intends to stay for a while.”

  Oh God.

  The man had fled with her child. He’d had twelve hours head start and could have left the country by now. Sara’s panic started to escalate, but as if reading her thoughts, Kirk twisted in the seat beside her, cupped her chin and forced her to look into his serious eyes.

  “Garth knows that he’ll never get your software unless he takes care of Abby.”

  Sara held onto the thought and glanced down at the laptop stuffed into a satchel by her feet. During the flight to Florida she’d copied the program onto a spare computer, then Web had given her drive a virus. The system, called Carnivore, would eat itself within either an hour after anyone opened it or upon a second run. And Web had added a fail-safe device inside so Garth couldn’t make copies before the program cannibalized itself.

  But the plan to foil her enemy gave her no comfort. Her work paled into insignificance compared to Abby. Would she ever see their child again?

  She glanced at the cell phone and prayed for it to ring.

  Logan looked at her in his rearview mirror. “Rita told me that she fed and bathed Abby last night. He’s taking care of her, Sara.”

  While they spoke, Ryker had opened his computer and was perusing his research. “Garth owns a hunting lodge in the swamps an hour east of here. He keeps a luxury sailboat docked at the marina and a penthouse condominium in the city.”

  “The marina is close. Why don’t we swing by and check it out,” Travis suggested.

  Logan pulled over to the curb and handed Jack a cardboard tube. “I brought a peel-and-stick sign. Place this over the painted carpet cleaning advertisement.”

  Several minutes later, Jack rejoined the others in the van. “We’re now officially a sightseeing group.”

  They’d been riding toward the marina for several minutes in silence, except for Ryker typing away, when Sara’s cell phone rang.

  She automatically looked to Travis for last-minute instructions. He didn’t fail her. “Remember that you’re supposed to be in California. If he’s in Florida and wants to meet, buy us extra time to get here.”

  Sara didn’t want to buy time. She wanted to speed up the process. She wanted Abby back, and the sooner the better. But she understood the necessity of planning the ransom payoff carefully, so she’d try to do as Travis suggested.

  Don’t blow it. Keep him talking. Stall. Ask to speak to Abby. Don’t let him know that we know his identity.

  Ryker had assured her the cell phone call could still be traced—if they stayed on the line long enough. She’d drilled the rules into her memory for hours, but she stilled feared making a mistake that could cost dearly. For Kirk, who had no role to play but who had to sit by her side and watch, the inactivity was just as bad, if not worse. She could read his concern by the lack of expression on his face, the way he sat so still.

  Sara pressed the phone’s green button. “Hello?”

  “Have you got the hardware and software up and running?” The same mechanized voice reverberated from the speaker.

  “I want to talk to Abby. And turn off the damn mechanized voice. I need to hear her voice.” Sara spoke firmly and calmly. Travis had also explained to her that the more upset she sounded, the less likely Garth would be to grant her wishes. And she dearly wanted to hear Abby coo into the phone.

  Garth ignored her question. “The program?”

  “The baby?” Sara could be just as curt, just as demanding. She really didn’t expect Garth to put the baby on the phone, so when he muttered, “I don’t think she’ll talk, but I’ll put the phone to her ear. Just a second. Talk.”

  “Abby, darling. It’s Mama. Talk to me, baby. Say Mama. Please, honey, say Mama.”

  “Ma-ma-ma-ma. Mama.”

  At the sound of Abby’s baby voice, Sara had to blink back tears. Her heart swelled with hope and she could see a suspicious gleam of moisture in Kirk’s eyes, as well.

  “Enough of the baby talk,” the mechanized voice came back. “Tell me about the program.”

  Sara gulped. This is where she could stall. “I didn’t want to risk storing the program on the Web. I figured you’d want the one and only copy. And even a CD-ROM doesn’t have enough space, the program is too big.”

  “Hurry up.”

  “I placed the program on a specialized laptop hard drive. I’ll bring the equipment, and you can test it.”

  “Good. Give these coordinates to your friends.” He gave sets of numbers that she assumed were latitude and longitude. “Helicopter in. Come alone and unarmed. Have the chopper fly back to the city. Bring your phone and your walking shoes. You’ve got one hour.”

  Ryker turned around and whispered to her, “The meet is in the Florida swamp.”

  While she talked, Logan used his own phone to begin making arrangements.

  She was supposed to be in California. Sara thought quickly. “It’ll take me a half hour to get to the airport. Four to five hours to fly to the other coast, and then—”

  “Cut the crap,” Garth ordered. “That bitch Rita may have betrayed me, but my servants know which side their bread is buttered on.”

  Sara realized that someone in the house could have overheard Rita’s conversation with Logan and reported it to Garth. Or possibly just the van showing up in the driveway had alerted a watcher to their presence. Either way, they’d had no choice but to take that risk, especially while they were still hoping Abby might be in the mansion.

  Ryker held up both hands. If she could keep Garth on the line ten more seconds, he could trace the call.

  Sara tried, sweat dripping down her brow despite the van’s air-conditioning system. “It’s not
that easy. I’ve got to lease a helicopter and a pilot.”

  “One hour or—” The line went dead. She looked at Ryker.

  “We narrowed his location down to Florida, but we already knew that.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Exactly one hour later, Sara climbed out of the helicopter at the coordinates Garth had given her. She held the hard drive and documentation in a bag slung over her shoulder. As she looked through the cypress trees, she hoped she could keep all of her instructions straight.

  Logan had her outfitted in a long-sleeved shirt, long slacks that tucked into knee-high boots and a hat with mosquito netting to protect her face. She carried enough gear to make her ten pounds heavier, and her boots sank into the squishy loam.

  Logan had refused to arm her with a weapon, claiming that she needed to follow Garth’s instructions exactly, but Kirk had slipped her a revolver, which she’d tucked into her pocket. She more than appreciated that Kirk trusted her skill with the weapon and, more importantly, her judgment. Hopefully Garth wouldn’t pat her down and would assume she’d followed his instructions. She felt better with the weapon heavy in her pocket. This swamp was wild enough for her to meet up with a snake or an alligator, but she feared the two-legged adversary the most.

  However, she no longer shook. Glad to be doing something, she shoved all her fears aside, grateful that she could function. In fact, she seemed to be especially clearheaded.

  While she was supposed to do exactly as Garth commanded, she would make decisions as she went along. Logan had rigged her cell phone so that he could monitor all her calls, listening in to any conversation if Garth phoned her again. Then she had a second phone to call the team if she had questions or needed help. But they would not call her and suggested she not call them unless absolutely necessary, in case Garth was monitoring her actions from close by.

  She had water in her canteen, a compass and a GPS that Kirk had shown her how to use. In a knapsack she lugged bug spray, power bars, a first aid kit, baby formula, diapers, flares, a mirror and a baby sling. Most important was the scent she carried on the soles of her boots and around her ankles. Kirk had sprayed her with a substance that she couldn’t smell, but which would leave traces on the ground, allowing Pepper to track her if the electronics failed. One thing she’d noticed about Logan Kincaid that reassured her: the man always had a backup plan for his backup plans. But what gave her even more confidence was that Kirk was out there. No one was better than he was at tracking. No one else cared more. And no one was as determined to succeed.