Ransom

by Terri Reed

  “Ah. We’re headed back, too. But we’re in a horrible traffic jam.”

  “It’s not much better where we are,” he said, braking to avoid hitting the bumper of the minivan ahead of him when the van stopped abruptly.

  “We were able to get an address where Santini called Travis from,” Drew said. “He’s holed up in a house on the outskirts of town. At least he was when he made the call.”

  “Good.” Blake looked at Liz. He could see the worry on her pretty face. “Then hopefully that means Jillian is someplace warm and dry.”

  “Yes. We were headed there, but we had to turn back because of road closures.”

  “It’s doubtful Santini will be going anywhere in this storm,” Blake said.

  “True, might be a good time to pay him a visit though, eh?”

  “Santini wouldn’t expect a raid in the middle of a whiteout,” Blake agreed.

  “When I get back to the condo I’ll coordinate with the Niagara Regional Police.”

  “We’ll see what we can do about getting outfitted for the snow,” Drew said. “Sami says to text her your sizes for boots, pants and jacket.”

  “Will do. See you soon.” Blake clicked off.

  Seeing a public parking garage, he turned in. “It’ll be faster if we hoof it the last few blocks. Are you up for the hike?”

  “I’m used to storms, though I will say I wish I had my snow boots,” Liz said.

  He marveled at her resilience. This woman was so much more than he’d first thought. She was slowly wiggling her way into his heart against his will. And he didn’t know what to do about it. “I’ve never owned snow boots,” he said as he parked and texted Sami the info she’d requested. “Not much use for them in Alabama where I grew up or in Seattle where I now call home.”

  She smiled as she climbed out of the car. “I was right. You’re from the south. Where in Alabama?”

  “Pelham.” He opened the trunk and grabbed the bag with the necklace inside. He rolled it up to fit into his coat pocket. “It’s a small community about twenty minutes south of Birmingham.”

  Tucking her closer to keep them both warm, they hurried out of the three-story parking garage. A few other brave pedestrians hustled by. She fit so well against him.

  “Is your family still there?” she asked, though her voice was muffled as she turned into him and huddled against the onslaught of freezing flakes that dampened her hair and jacket.

  Despite the cold he started to grow warm. It was a struggle to concentrate. “My dad. He’s retired now, but he was the chief of police.”

  “Ah, so law enforcement is in your blood. What about your mom?”

  “She and Dad divorced when I was ten.” The sidewalk was slippery beneath their feet. He held on tight to Liz. “She took my little sister and moved to Chicago.”

  “That must have been hard for you and your dad,” she murmured on a shiver.

  In so many ways. Up ahead, he could see the tall brick building like a beacon, guiding them through the snow. His feet were numb from the cold and his pant legs wet. Car horns blared. Tires spun. The street had become icy. A small pickup truck slid, its tires throwing up debris as it tried to grip the pavement.

  The sensation of being scrutinized itched at the nape of his neck. He glanced around at the other pedestrians with bowed heads in deference to the icy snow, coats and jackets zipped to the chin. No one seemed to pay them any special attention. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone, somewhere, was watching as he and Liz hurried along the wide sidewalk with the goal of a warm condo for their effort.

  They reached the end of the sidewalk. The condo building was across the side street. Instead of crossing the street when the light turned green, Blake urged Liz inside the corner market. The heated interior made his numb ears thaw and tingle.

  “How about we pick up some supplies?” he asked to cover the real reason for the stop.

  Though she gave him a curious look, she said, “Sure. Like what?”

  “Coffee. I think we’re low.” He kept his gaze out the picture window. “And soup. Maybe some bread. Whatever you want.”

  Liz moved away to gather his requested items. Blake stepped closer to the window. Through the thick, falling snow he could barely make out a tall man wearing a pea coat and fedora standing across the wide expanse of the main street. The guy from the airport had had a fedora and pea coat on. What had the informant said his name was? Ken. That’s right. He wanted Santini’s necklace. Not going to happen. Blake’s initial instinct was to rush out and apprehend the man, but Liz’s safety came first. He needed to stay with her.

  Blake turned to the cashier, a buxom brunette who eyed him as if he was her favorite candy dish.

  “Anything I can do for you?” she asked in a sultry tone. “Anything at all.”

  Ignoring her blatant attempt to flirt with him, he showed her his badge. “Is there a back exit?”

  She gestured toward the far left corner of the store. “End of the dairy aisle through the gray flaps. I could show you if you’d like.”

  Liz stepped up then with a basketful of goods. Her gaze bounced between him and the brunette behind the counter but she didn’t say a word.

  “That won’t be necessary.” He paid for the groceries, then hefted the bag in one arm and snagged Liz’s elbow with the other to prevent her from stepping out the front entrance. “This way.”

  “What’s happened?” she asked, her voice slightly high with anxiety.

  “That Ken guy is outside.”

  She twisted to look over her shoulder. “He had a gun.”

  “He must have doubled back and followed us.” He pushed aside the long flaps suspended from the top of the doorway. They entered the storage area. Before they left the store through the back exit, Blake called the Niagara Regional Police office and reported Ken’s location. “He’s armed and dangerous,” Blake added.

  He hung up and pushed open the back door. Outside, the raging blizzard had intensified. Tucking Liz into his side, he ducked his head and they tramped out into the wall of white toward the condo. They hustled the short half block to the building’s side entrance. He used his key card to open the glass doors and they hurried inside. He made sure the door shut and locked behind him. They stomped the snow from their shoes. Blake’s feet were numb from the cold. As they rode the elevator up, feeling returned to his extremities with pins and needles.

  They reached the condo just as the electricity went out, plunging them into gloom. The curtains of the large picture window allowed light that penetrated the wall of white outside to illuminate the condo, so they weren’t in total darkness.

  Blake set the groceries on the dining table. He removed the bag containing the jewelry box with the diamond necklace from his coat pocket, then shrugged out of his wet overcoat and hung it up in the laundry room. Liz followed him and hung her coat up, as well.

  “There are flashlights in the entryway closet,” he said as they moved back to the entryway.

  “We’ll need those if the lights don’t come back on before nightfall.” She headed for the hall. “I’m going to change clothes. I’ll be right back.”

  Needing to do the same, Blake headed to his room where he traded his soggy pants for dry and warm sweatpants. Then he called Nathanial.

  “Hey,” Nathanial greeted him. “Where are you?”

  “We’re back at the condo. You?”

  “We? Did Drew and Sami make it there?”

  Blake grimaced. “Not yet. I’ve got Liz here.”

  There was a slight pause before Nathanial said, “Interesting.”

  A slight note of amusement laced the word. Blake scrubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah. I’m a sap. I let her talk me out of taking her back to the US.”

  Nathanial barked out a laugh. “It’s good t
o know your cold heart can be thawed.”

  “Cute,” Blake shot back. “Is Travis in custody?”

  “He is. I’m sticking around until the storm lessens,” Nathanial said. “I figure I’ll take another run at Travis and see if there’s more he could tell us about Santini’s operation.”

  “Good idea. Have you heard from Drew?”

  “Not in a while.”

  “Okay. Keep me posted if you get anything from Travis.”

  “Will do. And Blake...”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s okay for you to have feelings for Liz. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you fell for her. Who knows? She may be just what you need.”

  Blake’s gut clenched. He didn’t do romance. He didn’t do serious. Especially not with someone involved in a case. That was a perilous path. Once he had Santini in custody and Liz’s sister safely home, Blake would move on to his next assignment, which meant he couldn’t have, didn’t want or need, ties to anyone or any place.

  Deciding the best course of action was not to acknowledge his friend’s remark, he said, “I’ll talk to you later.”

  Nathanial snorted. “Sure, whatever you say, eh?”

  Shaking his head, Blake clicked off, shoving Nathaniel’s comment to the furthest reaches of his mind. Then Blake called Niagara Regional Police to coordinate a raid on Santini. He also asked for a female officer to come to the condo to stay with Liz while they took down Santini and rescued her sister. After he hung up, he went in search of Liz. She had lit several votive candles, lighting the place in a soft glow. He stopped to light the gas fireplace, which provided warmth and more light.

  Clanking pots and pans drew him to the kitchen. She had opened a can of soup and had it simmering on the gas stove. She now stood at the counter, chopping veggies for a salad. Her honey-blond hair was swept up in a messy bun exposing the creamy white column of her neck. She’d changed into casual athletic wear with a matching pullover. His gaze raked over her feminine form before lifting to meet her sea-green eyes. An invisible current of attraction drew him closer. If he got too close, would he get burned?

  “Can I help?” he asked, his voice coming out huskier than he’d have liked.

  She gave a tiny nod. “You could melt some butter for the bread.”

  A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. The way he was feeling with her so close he could melt the butter with his hands. “Sure, I can do that.”

  He was surprised by how comfortable and relaxing it was to work side by side with her. When they finished the preparations, they took their meal to the dining table.

  “Drew and Sami should be here soon,” Blake said as they took their meal to the dining table.

  “There’s certainly plenty of food.”

  “We’ll be heading out not long after they arrive.”

  “Good.” She set down her fork. “I’m worried about Jillian. I just want this nightmare over.”

  “That’s understandable.”

  “But I have to trust God will keep her safe until she’s rescued.”

  Unnerved by her words and the sentiment behind them, he said, “Can you really do that? Trust Him? Aren’t you angry that He allowed your sister to be put in harm’s way to begin with?”

  Her brow furrowed. “I don’t blame God for somebody else’s actions.”

  “You’re much more magnanimous than I am,” he said. He couldn’t help the anger that simmered deep in his gut over Liam’s death. “My friend Liam was a man of faith. He helped me see the need to believe in something greater than myself, yet God allowed Liam to die. Faith didn’t protect him.”

  Liz reached across the table to cover his clenched fist. He concentrated on the feel of her warm and soft skin against his hand to keep from giving in to the sorrow that lurked at the edges of his mind. “We all die at some point. Some too soon in life.” She frowned. “I pray it’s not Jillian’s time.”

  Liz had felt the bite of death in her life with the loss of both of her parents. And now her sister’s life hung in the balance. Blake couldn’t imagine the grief Liz must carry. He relaxed his fingers and turned his hand over so their palms met. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.”

  A sad smile tipped up the edges of her mouth. “Believe me, I’ve done my share of blaming God, asking Him why my parents had to die. Even wondering why Jillian has been put in danger. But the unfortunate fact is that humanity comes with sickness and evil and accidents and death. Turning my back on God would mean my connection with Him was conditional. And that would be very sad, because if God’s love came with conditions...” She shook her head.

  “But doesn’t it? The Ten Commandments and all that?”

  “I’m not saying there aren’t instructions and principles that we should live by.” She paused as if searching for how to explain. “Think of it this way, most parents love their children unconditionally. When their child messes up, the parent corrects, guides and chastises but they still love their child. That’s how God is with us. He’s about relationships, whereas most humans, outside of parental love, are relational.”

  He thought about all the times he rebelled or lashed out at his parents. Especially when he was a teenager so full of anger at them both for tearing their family apart. And yet, no matter how nasty his behavior, he hadn’t doubted his dad’s love or his mother’s. Though Dad didn’t show his love with hugs and kisses, he’d made time for Blake, taking days off to spend with him fishing and catching a baseball game. Mom had loved him, too, and continually told him he could come live with her and Emily. But he’d chosen to stay with his dad.

  On one of his last assignments, he and Nathanial had provided backup to DEA agent Tyler Griffin by going undercover on a Christmas-tree farm in northern Idaho. The widow who owned the farm had a young son, and though Blake hadn’t had much experience with kids, he’d had a soft spot for the little guy. Tyler had ended up marrying the widow and Blake regularly checked in on them and their son. “Okay, I kind of get the parental love thing. But you lost me on the last part.”

  “I guess what I’m saying is we, meaning humans, put conditions on our relationships, and when one of the two parties in the relationship does something that fractures the connection, it’s too easy to give up and walk away or strike out at the other person. Then that person retaliates by striking out or giving up and walking away.”

  “Like my parents,” Blake murmured. How many nights had he lain awake hearing them fighting until finally his mother had walked away, leaving both him and his father behind? And wasn’t he just as guilty? After catching his college girlfriend, Sarah, in several lies, he’d washed his hands of the relationship. No second chances.

  In fact, he’d not allowed a deep relationship since because he didn’t want to be hurt again. He didn’t want to be weak.

  But what would have happened had he chosen to love unconditionally? Would he and Sarah still be together? What path would his life have taken if he’d elected to work through the pain and allowed her to regain his trust? What life would his father have had if he’d allowed himself to fully love his wife rather than shut her out?

  The questions ricocheted through his mind. He wasn’t one to contemplate “what if’s.” He stayed in the moment, taking life as it came and letting the past go.

  A mocking laugh in his head belied that thought, making him aware he hadn’t truly let go of the past. If he had, then maybe he wouldn’t be alone.

  He frowned at the idea. He wanted to be alone. He liked not having someone tying him down to one place.

  Liz squeezed his hand drawing his attention. “Now I’m the one being insensitive.”

  “No. You’re right. It is too easy to give up on God—or others—when things get tough and painful.” But it was hard for him to think that God could love him as flawed as he was. Could he have a closer relatio
nship, a real relationship with God?

  Staring into Liz’s pretty eyes, he found himself yearning for a relationship with her. A real give and take. The kind that lasted a lifetime. His heart pounded in his chest and a suffocating swell of emotion threatened to drown him. Did he really want a relationship with this woman?

  Right now, this minute, the possibility held him enthralled. He had to admit he found Liz Cantrell challenging and exciting. He respected her drive and her loyalty to her sister. She had a fierce, determined nature that was tempered by a gentle side he found alluring. She held him captive in ways he’d never experienced. What did that mean? What did he want it to mean?

  “You sound as if you speak from experience.”

  Her soft voice broke through his thoughts like a hammer against concrete, shattering the moment. “Yes. Though in retrospect I was the one who failed. Failed to love unconditionally. I’m not sure I’m capable of doing so.”

  “If it were easy...” She shrugged. “Whatever happened, it’s in the past, right?” She chewed on her bottom lip. He had the feeling her words were having as much of an impact on her as they were on him.

  He’d let the past cloud his choices. The knowledge disturbed him in ways he’d rather not feel.

  He slipped his hand from hers and picked up his empty bowl and plate and carried them to the sink. She followed with her dishes. He turned on the faucet, thankful that water hadn’t gone off like the electricity. As he handwashed their dishes, Liz grabbed a towel and dried.

  “I’m sorry if I upset you,” she said.

  “Not at all.” He scrubbed a bowl with more vigor than needed.

  “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” she said. “We all have painful times in our pasts.”

  That made him curious. He turned to face her and leaned his hip against the counter. “What painful secrets are you hiding?”

  She tucked in her chin. “Nothing you’d be interested in.”

  “I am, though.” He lifted her chin with the crook of his finger. He wanted to know more about this woman, despite knowing nothing good would come from getting emotionally involved with her. Yet he couldn’t make himself shut down his curiosity or his attraction to her.