by Rebecca York
“We’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“Anything could happen in five hours.”
A clicking noise told him that someone was trying to contact the cell.
“Someone’s calling me,” he told Dakota.
“Do you recognize the number?”
“No.”
“Answer it. Make it a conference call.”
Noah pushed the button. “Noah Fielding?” someone said. He couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, because the voice was electronically distorted.
“Yes.”
“We have your wife.”
Noah’s heart stopped, then started up again in double time.
“If you want to see her alive again, you will do exactly what we tell you.”
“Is this about money?”
“No questions!”
“All right.”
“You will not contact anyone. You will go to the Santa Barbara airport, where someone will meet you. Go now.”
“All right,” he said again, then hung up on the second line.
Max Dakota was still there.
“What the hell do I do?” Noah asked.
“What they said, only we’ll meet you on the way to the airport and make sure we can track your location.”
“Meet me? How? You’re in Baltimore and I’m in Santa Barbara.”
“We were anticipating problems, so we sent Hunter Kelley out a couple of days ago. Go back to your car. Drive to the La Cumbre Road exit of the parking lot and stop. Hunter will get in the car.”
Noah swore again, this time in admiration. He’d hired these guys because he knew they were good. He hadn’t known just how good.
“We’d better get off. Hunter will give you further instructions.”
Noah hung up, unable to suppress the sick feeling in his gut as he and Pablo returned to the car and followed Max Dakota’s directions.
This could be about Olivia, but he didn’t think so. Someone wanted him, and they knew how to get him. Was it a revenge thing—like with Eddie Carlson’s brother? Or what?
Too many unpleasant possibilities swirled in his head.
The car slowed, and the lean, dark-haired man he’d seen on the teleconference call ran out from between two cars, climbed into the backseat and folded himself onto the floor.
“Keep driving toward the airport,” Hunter said.
Pablo followed directions.
“I’m sorry to be meeting you under these circumstances,” Hunter said.
“Yeah, but I’m glad you decided to come out here.”
The other man nodded. “We’re going to put a tracking device on you.”
“If they’re as thorough as I think they are, they’ll find it.”
Hunter laughed. “I don’t think so. You’re going to swallow it.”
The idea had very little appeal, but he didn’t see any alternative. Apparently the Light Street Detective Agency had made a lot of contingency plans.
Hunter reached into the knapsack on the floor beside him and brought out something that looked like a large capsule. He also produced a bottle of water, which he handed to Noah.
Noah held the pill in his hand. A lot of strange things had happened to him in his long life, but he had never imagined anything like this.
“Swallow it,” Hunter said.
Noah did, feeling it travel down his throat.
“They may have put a tracker on your car,” he said, “so you’d better not detour. I’ll get out at the next traffic light. We won’t try to communicate with you until we have a better idea of the situation, but we’ll zero in on your location. And we’ll be as close as we can get, ready to bust in and scoop up you and your wife.”
“I hope,” Noah muttered.
“We have a very good closure rate.”
“All right.” It was more than he should have been able to hope for, actually, given his own stupidity. He should have kept Olivia safe at the compound, but he’d been too arrogant for that.
“If we can send you a signal or a message, we will,” Hunter said.
“How?”
“That will depend on the circumstances.” Hunter looked up as the car slowed for a red light. “Got to go. Good luck.”
He opened the door, ducked low and rolled out of the car, landing in the gutter. Then he scuttled away, and Noah hoped to hell that the escape hadn’t been noted by whoever was calling the shots.
Pablo drove to the airport. “What should I do?” he asked.
“Go home and wait for me,” he said, hoping that he’d be back—with Olivia.
He got out and watched Pablo drive away, then he shoved his hands into his pockets and stood on the sidewalk waiting. Moments later, a man approached him. It wasn’t anybody he’d ever met before.
“Noah Fielding?”
“Yes.”
“Your plane is waiting.”
“Where’s my wife?”
“No questions!” the man clipped out. “Come this way.”
They walked to a van, and Noah felt his chest tighten. He’d thought they were flying out of the Santa Barbara airport. Instead, when he stepped inside the van, something slammed into the back of his head.
He woke up groggy, on the floor of an airplane, with the taste of dried blood in his mouth. When he explored his lips with his tongue, he found out he’d been cut, probably from his own teeth. That would heal soon enough, but it didn’t solve any of his other problems.
He didn’t know how long he’d been out, but it wasn’t just from getting whacked on the back of the head. He was pretty sure he’d been given something to keep him unconscious. And he’d bet they’d searched him. Luckily the transmitter was where they couldn’t find it.
He tried to move his hands and found they were cuffed. His feet, too, were tied. Because he wasn’t Houdini, he probably wasn’t going to free himself. Instead, he tried to evaluate his surroundings.
The aircraft was small and of limited range, and if he craned his neck, he could see blue sky out the window. Which didn’t prove much of anything, he decided.
He didn’t bother speaking to the pilot or copilot because he was sure they weren’t going to give him a progress report on Olivia’s health.
His chest tightened. He never should have taken her into town. Not until the Light Street operatives told him it was safe, but he’d seen the questioning look in her eyes and he’d wanted to wipe it away—at least for a while. Too bad he hadn’t tried the honest approach and simply told her the truth.
But their relationship was still so new, and he’d been afraid that she’d walk away from him.
He felt the shift in the plane as it angled down for a landing.
The runway was short but the pilots were skilled. They were on the ground shortly.
Noah tensed as he waited to find out what would happen next. The door opened, and he heard the pilot conferring with someone outside.
The man came back with a pistol in his hand. His companion untied Noah’s legs.
“Get up.”
When Noah pushed himself to a sitting position, one of the men grabbed his arms and hauled him to his feet.
“Where are we?” he asked.
“You’ll find out what you need to know when you need to know it,” the man growled. “Come on.”
Outside, two more men were waiting, both of them armed with automatic weapons. Behind them was a desolate landscape. It looked like they were in the southwest, on a high mountain plateau.
Ahead of them, in a cleared area, was a small structure that might have been a modest vacation home.
What were they going to do, leave him out here and fly away?
Panic rose in his chest. “Is Olivia here?”
“Stop asking questions.” To emphasize the order, one of the men backhanded him across the mouth, and he stopped trying to get information. He could rush them, but that wasn’t going to help Olivia. He had to find out where she was.
His guards led him to the house, which turned out
to be a sort of elevator lobby.
Great, he thought. One elevator going down into the mountain. It would be very easy to keep an attack team from getting in.
When the three of them stepped into the car, it carried them down several levels, into a structure that must have been carved out of the native rock.
They led him along a rockbound corridor lined with doors, then stopped in front of one. The taller of the two guards unlocked his handcuffs, then punched in numbers on a keypad. When the door opened, the man shoved Noah into a small cell.
There was a narrow bed along the wall, and as he stumbled into the room, he saw someone scramble to her feet.
Olivia!
The door slammed behind him as she rushed toward him. “Noah! Thank God, Noah,” she cried out, then stopped when she saw the blood on his mouth. “You’re hurt,” she breathed.
“It’s not bad.”
He reached for her and she went into his arms, clinging to him with all the strength she possessed. He held her just as tightly.
“How are you?” he murmured, praying they hadn’t been as rough with her as they had been with him.
“Scared.”
“Did they hurt you?”
“No. What’s going on?”
He stroked her back, her hair, taking comfort from the contact. “I don’t know. How did they get you?”
Her hands tightened on his shoulders. “I was in the dressing room and my brother came in.”
“Your brother? Your brother pulled this off?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. I heard him talking to someone else.”
“Okay. We’ll figure it out.”
“How?”
He laughed. “I don’t think someone brought both of us here just to lock us in a cell. Eventually, they have to tell us what they want.”
When he said the word cell, she started to tremble, and he tightened his hold on her.
He made a harsh sound. “Forgive me for getting you into this.” As he spoke, his lips skimmed her cheek.
“This isn’t your fault,” she answered.
He wanted to tell her it was, but he saw no point in insisting when there was something much more important he had to say. Emotions surged inside him as he said, “I should have told you before. I love you.”
He felt her sharp breath. “You’re not just saying that because you think we’re going to die?”
“We’re not going to die,” he said in a gritty voice. Confessions flashed through his mind, but this wasn’t the time for them. Instead, he said, “I married you because I love you. Only I hadn’t figured it out yet.”
“That means a lot. I guess each of us saw something we needed in the other.”
“Yes.”
She nestled against him for a long moment, then leaned away from him and managed a small laugh. “We’re an odd pair. You were lonely, and I came along at the right time.”
He shook his head. “Don’t sell yourself short. It’s a lot more than that. I was very lucky to find you. You have some very rare qualities. You’re warm and generous. And you know what’s right and what’s wrong.”
“But I…”
“No. That’s why you gave your brother so much grief over the scam he wanted to pull.”
She dragged in a breath and let it out. “You said this is about you. But it’s about me, too. Somebody’s given Pearson the chance to get even with me.”
As she finished speaking, the door opened again.
Noah whirled to see the men who had brought him from the plane.
He eyed their guns as he put himself between the guards and Olivia, estimating his chances of taking them. It wouldn’t do any good to rush them. He couldn’t get out of this with brute force. They’d shoot him, and he’d be out of commission for hours. He needed his wits. And he probably needed the Light Street Detective Agency.
They knew where he was. Maybe they were already working on plans to get him and Olivia out of here.
Yeah, sure. Out of a fortress built into a mountain.
“Mr. Bainbridge wants to see you now,” one of the men said.
Noah had never heard the name. “Who is Mr. Bainbridge?”
“You’ll be talking to him directly. Come on.”
Noah reached for Olivia’s hand.
“Not her,” the guard said. “She stays here.”
Noah folded his arms across his chest. “Then I stay here.”
“If you give us any trouble, we have orders to shoot her,” the man said.
Noah’s throat clogged. When he turned toward Olivia, her face had drained of color. “I’ll come back as soon as I can,” he said, even when he was pretty sure he had no say in the matter.
She answered with a tight nod, and he stepped out of the room with the men. When the door closed behind him, he felt his heart squeeze painfully.
Yes, he’d gotten her into this. And he was deathly afraid for her.
He thought again about going after the guards. It didn’t matter if they shot him. Olivia was out of the line of fire now, but he still wouldn’t recover quickly enough to do anything for her, so he retraced the route to the elevator.
This time, they rode to a higher floor.
When they stepped out, it was like stepping into another world—into the opulence of a five-star New York hotel.
The floor was polished marble, cut so that each huge block of stone mirrored another one along the corridor. The ceiling looked like it had come from a French palace. And fabulous antique chests and tables were arranged along the walls. Apparently Mr. Bainbridge was very rich and he liked to remind himself of his wealth.
“That way,” one of the guards said, pointing to a doorway on the left. As he stepped inside, Noah took quick stock of his surroundings. The room was furnished with comfortable couches and more antique cabinet pieces. Heavy drapes were drawn along one wall, but Noah suspected there might not be real windows behind them.
Two men were sitting in the room facing a large flat screen TV which showed a view of Olivia huddled in the cell he’d just vacated.
The picture made his blood boil, and he turned to the men in the room. One of them looked frail and wasted, and Noah was sure he had never seen him before. The other was Sidney Hemmings.
Noah focused on Hemmings. “What the hell is going on? What are you doing to Olivia?”
The doctor ignored the second question and said, “After you left Las Vegas so precipitously, Jarred contacted me and asked if I could help find you. Actually, I couldn’t. You’ve covered your tracks very well, but Jarred’s operatives are persistent. You used a different name at the Royal Crescent in Las Vegas, but we confirmed through fingerprint evidence that Noel Feldman was you.”
Hemmings smiled. “We’ve had some very enlightening discussions about you. You’re quite an interesting man.”
“And so you kidnapped me and my wife?” Noah asked, making an effort to keep his voice calm, when he felt like his life was unraveling before his eyes.
“I apologize for the dramatics,” the other man said. “I’m Jarred Bainbridge.”
“I can’t say that I’m glad to meet you.”
Bainbridge gestured toward an easy chair. “Why don’t you sit down.”
“I’d rather stand.”
“As you wish.”
“What the hell is this all about?” Noah repeated.
“Yes, in your position, I’d want some information, too. All right, I’ll get to the point. I’m dying of a very nasty disease. Multiple myeloma. I’ve been searching for a way to extend my life. You first came to my attention as the result of a newspaper article from the Cayman Islands.”
Noah felt a chill ripple over his skin as he thought over everything that had happened over the past few weeks. How much of it had to do with Bainbridge?
Hemmings said, “When we met in Las Vegas, I was shocked at your apparent age. I used my ring to take a cell sample from you. Your cells have an amazing ability to regenerate themselves.”
&n
bsp; “A cell sample! That’s an invasion of privacy.”
The doctor shrugged.
“So you got involved in some kind of diabolical scheme with your new best friend?” Noah asked.
Hemmings lifted one shoulder. “As you know, I’m always interested in scientific research. Jarred has the funds to carry out research that would be beyond my scope. There’s considerable benefit to me in joining him in this venture.”
Bainbridge jumped back into the conversation. “Dr. Hemmings has come up with some very interesting theories about you.”
“How helpful of him,” Noah said through gritted teeth, then ordered himself not to let anger sweep him away. He had to understand these men. Bainbridge was no problem. He was a very rich man used to getting his way, and his illness was an unexpected blow, something he couldn’t control. Yet he was trying desperately to change the equation. Unfortunately, it appeared he didn’t care who got hurt, as long as his own purposes were served.
Hemmings was another matter. Noah knew he’d always been a tireless researcher. It seemed that Bainbridge had given him an opportunity to study a fascinating anomaly. Or was Bainbridge giving him a great deal of money for his assistance?
“Of course, I wanted to test the theories for myself,” Bainbridge continued. “If Sidney’s hypothesis is true, then I’ll want to see how your remarkable recuperative powers can be transferred to me.”
“They can’t,” Noah snapped.
“Pearson was very helpful in getting you here,” the frail man said, ignoring the interjection.
“Where is he?”
“Dead. He served his purpose and he was too dangerous to keep around.”
The offhand way Bainbridge spoke deepened the chill in Noah’s flesh. And when the man continued, the chill sank all the way into Noah’s bones.
The billionaire gestured toward the television set. “We watched that tender reunion between you and your wife. It was very enlightening. Now I’d like to find out what lengths you’d go to to save her if her life was in danger.”
Chapter Twelve
“Leave Olivia out of this,” Noah shouted, then wished he’d kept his mouth shut when he saw the twisted look of satisfaction on Bainbridge’s gaunt face. He had something in mind, something that made Noah’s heart start to pound.