by Debra Webb
“We might be able to track her movements via her cell phone,” he offered.
More confusion cluttered Malone’s face. “You can do that with your personal cell phone?”
“I have resources.” Dakota entered the number into a text and forwarded it to his boss with a request to attempt a triangulation of the cell phone’s location. If the cell remained on, there was a chance it could be tracked.
How had this Malone chick gotten a job with a group like the Colby Agency? Clearly she didn’t know her way around this business. Talk about inexperienced and ill prepared for the job. Giving her grace, he admitted that this had been a tough one, even for a seasoned investigator.
“We can’t just sit here,” Malone said, her attention focused on the clinic. “We have to do something.”
“What we’re going to do is see who comes and goes until we have a starting place beyond this ritzy clinic.” He glanced at his phone though he hadn’t felt it vibrate. The sooner he had a location on the missing woman’s cell, the better.
Malone put up her hands. “I can’t do this. The promise I made to keep this visit to the clinic a secret is irrelevant now. I have to call Mr. Camp.” She glanced wistfully at Dakota’s cell. “Can I use your phone?”
Dakota couldn’t put off the next step any longer. “It’s time for you to know the truth.” When she stared up at him with that panicked expression that made him wish he hadn’t been dragged into this, he gave her the story he’d been ordered to tell. “Lucas sent me to keep an eye on you while you made the delivery…in the event there was trouble.”
Surprise, then doubt and ultimately total confusion played out on her face. “Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place?” She closed her eyes and blew out a ragged breath. “Thank God.”
Definitely a newbie. She’d swallowed the story without so much as a hiccup.
“He knows about Victoria…?” Malone turned to him again, searched his eyes. “Are they trying to find her?” Renewed worry clouded her eyes.
Dakota’s cell vibrated, saving him from having to come up with an answer on that one. He checked the screen. A text from Keaton.
The phone is in the clinic.
Another message advised that the coordinates were being downloaded to Dakota’s phone. A street map appeared on the screen with a red dot representing the position of the cell phone belonging to Victoria Colby-Camp.
“He does know, doesn’t he?” Malone bit her lip and mumbled, “Oh, God.”
“The situation,” Dakota offered, “is extremely sensitive. There are certain precautions that have to be taken.” That didn’t answer her question. He hoped she wouldn’t notice.
“Why aren’t they here?” She craned her neck to check the street. “What about the police? I’m certain they would’ve called the police. This is crazy.” She plowed her fingers through her hair. “Just crazy.”
Dakota hoped he wasn’t backing himself into a corner. “There’s a strong possibility that Victoria’s disappearance is related to the same people who ambushed you this morning.” He hadn’t been advised of any sort of explanation, leaving him no other alternative. “As I said, the situation has to be approached with extreme caution. Your orders are to lay low until the situation is resolved.” All Dakota needed was for her to agree to allow him to park her some place out of the way until this was done. Whatever the hell this was.
Malone shook her head adamantly. “I can’t do that! This is my fault! I should never have left her!” She gestured to Dakota, then to the clinic. “You have a gun. You could make them tell us the truth.”
A new level of desperation had set in. “Yeah,” he grunted, “and we could both end up in jail. How would we help your boss then? Not to mention Lucas would have my hide,” he remembered to add.
Defeat pressed down her shoulders. “I don’t know.” She dropped her head against the seat. “I don’t know anything. This is only my second week on the job.”
Damn. He had known she was a newbie, but surely an agency as elite as the Colby Agency wouldn’t hire someone this green as an investigator. “What exactly do you do at the agency?”
She turned her head just far enough to look at him. “I’m an assistant to Mrs. Colby-Camp. Mr. Camp has to know this is my fault.”
Dakota’s cell vibrated. He stared at the map on the screen. “They’re moving.”
“What?” Malone leaned across the seat to look at the screen.
An ambulance rounded the corner of the clinic, eased into the street and rolled away.
Dakota started his truck and backed out of the slot.
“What’s happening?” Malone demanded.
“Assuming your boss is with her phone,” he said as he edged between two parked vehicles to reach the street in the most direct route, “she’s in that ambulance.” Careful to keep his distance, Dakota followed the white vehicle.
“Oh, my God.” Malone eased forward in her seat. “They are kidnapping her.”
“Looks that way.” Dakota didn’t like it one bit that he didn’t have a clue what was going down. But he had his orders. Find Victoria Colby-Camp.
“Shouldn’t you call Mr. Camp?”
Logical question. Dakota flashed his cell at her. “He’s receiving the same intel.”
That seemed to satisfy her for the moment.
The ambulance appeared to be moving away from the city. Dakota placed his phone on the dash and focused on the vehicle half a block ahead. Traffic helped, but it wouldn’t last if the ambulance continued on its present course.
He had grown up in Chicago. For the past year he’d called the Windy City home once more. Exactly why remained a mystery to him. He’d sworn when he left more than a decade ago that he would never return. There was nothing here for him. But then he’d gotten this job offer and he’d thought what the hell.
“Where are they going?” Malone asked as she peered out the windshield. “I don’t know anything about this side of Chicago.” She turned to Dakota. “We’re leaving the city, aren’t we?”
“Looks that way.”
Once they left the city limits behind, he fell back a few more car lengths. As long as he wasn’t spotted he had the advantage. The miles and the minutes ticked off, five, then ten. Twenty, then thirty. Where the hell were they headed? He studied the landscape. A bad, bad feeling had started deep in his gut.
Malone started pawing around in the glove box and then the floorboard. She tugged at the buttons of her jacket evidently for better mobility. She bent down and groped around under the seat.
He glanced at her twice, recognizing the signs of renewed hysteria. “What’re you looking for?”
“I have to get this blood off.” She stared at her stained blouse now. “And I can’t find my phone.”
The ambulance took a left onto a county road. The route was vaguely familiar to Dakota. He’d been this way before. He just couldn’t remember when or why.
“I should’ve called the police.” Malone gave up on her search. “I don’t know what I was thinking. That would have been the logical thing to do.”
Dakota tuned out her ranting, his full attention zeroed in on the route. The trees…the houses that grew more and more sparse.
Brake lights flashed as the ambulance slowed for a right turn. Once the turn was made the vehicle had disappeared from sight by the time Dakota copied the turn. The road narrowed. The tree line on either side of the road was denser now, broken only by the occasional modest home.
He knew this place somehow.
He slowed as the road climbed a slight rise and then cut sharply to the right. A rusty road sign warned there was no outlet. Once he’d made the bend, he slammed on the brakes.
Malone bumped the dash. “Why are we stopping?”
Dakota couldn’t respond.
He went utterly still as full recognition materialized in his brain.
“I know this place.”
Hearing the words echo in the silent cab shook him. He hadn’t meant to say them out loud.
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“You do?”
He blinked. This couldn’t be possible.
“What is this place?” Malone demanded. She now stared at the looming structure that waited ominously at the end of the road.
The twelve-foot stone wall stretched out on either side of a main entrance. Iron gates loomed at that entrance, flanked by a guard shack.
Beyond the wall stood a four-story monstrosity that should have burned to the ground decades ago. “Garrett?”
No way. This couldn’t be right.
“What is this place?” Malone repeated.
He turned to his passenger. Her eyes were wide with worry. She had no idea, couldn’t possibly have even an inkling, what they’d stumbled into. Who was this Victoria Colby-Camp that she could drag him into the deepest, darkest recesses of his own personal nightmare?
“Garrett,” she pressed, “where are they taking her?”
He turned back to the place where the road dead-ended. He hadn’t fully recognized the route because he’d only ever gotten glimpses through the rear windows of ambulance doors. He could give Malone the official business name. Flashes from the distant past slashed across his vision. He knew from personal experience exactly what this place was and the name was merely a facade just like the building and the endless wall that surrounded it.
A fear he hadn’t suffered in a dozen years swelled inside him, forced his heart to ram against his sternum and prevented the possibility of a decent breath.
“It’s hell, Malone. This place is hell.”
Chapter Six
12:00 p.m.
Lucas was worried.
Both Simon and Ian had already asked if he’d heard from Victoria.
Lucas tried her cell yet again.
Voice mail. It could be on silent or perhaps she simply didn’t hear the subtle ring tone. Either way, it wasn’t like Victoria to be out touch like this.
He tried the driver’s cell again.
Then Lucky’s.
No answer on either.
Lucas pushed out of the chair behind his desk and moved to the window. Who was the friend Victoria had gone to coffee with this morning? He tried to recall if she’d mentioned a name. Gretchen? Betsy? He just couldn’t remember.
Lucas shook his head. How could he forget something as simple as that? He put through another call. Mildred Ballard, Victoria’s personal assistant and closest friend, answered immediately.
“Good afternoon, Lucas.”
At least someone was answering his calls. “Mildred, how’s the makeover going?”
She laughed, one of those uncharacteristically girly sounds. “My hair is gorgeous. I’m stunned that even an old broad like me can still be dolled up. The manicure and pedicure are in process as we speak. It was so sweet of you and Victoria to think of this.”
“I can’t take credit,” Lucas said, trying to be patient. “It’s all Victoria’s doing.”
Mildred delightedly rambled on about how she’d found a gift card in her purse for her favorite department store, so shopping was next.
“Mildred,” Lucas interrupted, “I know this is a day off and you’re having a wonderful time, but do you know who Victoria was having coffee with this morning?”
Silence thickened on the other end of the line. Though Lucas had attempted to infuse nonchalance in his tone, Mildred knew him too well.
“Has something happened?” The background noise abruptly stopped as if Mildred had lifted a single hand and all in the salon had fallen silent.
“Well…” Lucas managed a dry chuckle. “I had hoped Victoria and I could have lunch but she hasn’t come into the office as of yet. I thought I’d give her a call and—”
“Penelope Lewis,” Mildred cut in. “They were having coffee at The Broken Egg. Victoria said she’d be in the office well before noon.”
Lucas made a mental note of the name and location. “Thank you, Mildred. I’m sure she’ll show at any moment.”
“Lucky can find Penelope’s number for you,” Mildred offered. “All Victoria’s personal contacts are in the Rolodex on her desk.”
“That’ll work,” Lucas assured her. “Enjoy your day, Mildred.” Mildred was right, except Lucky hadn’t returned either and she wasn’t answering her cell.
Lucas was already halfway to Victoria’s office when he slid the cell back into his pocket. His instincts were on point. Something was wrong. He could feel it.
“Lucas.”
He hesitated at Victoria’s door and waited for Ian Michaels to catch up with him. Ian’s expression was most always indecipherable so he tried not to read too much into the seemingly grim look on his face now. “Yes, Ian?” Anxiety niggled at his composure. Something was definitely very wrong.
“Jim and Simon are en route to the location now, but,” Ian said, indicating with a gesture of his hand that they should continue on into Victoria’s office, “I received a rather disturbing call from the Chicago P.D. a few moments ago. Have you heard from Lucky this morning?”
Lucas stopped in the middle of Victoria’s office, that sense of dread mounting at a breath-stealing rate. “Jim and Simon are en route where?” Ian had skipped right over that part. Lucas braced for bad news.
“You’ve had no word from Lucky?” Ian asked again, once more ignoring Lucas’s question.
Lucas reached for patience. “I asked her to run an errand for me this morning. She should have been back by now. I didn’t get an answer when I called her cell.”
Worry flickered in Ian’s dark eyes. “Burt, Victoria’s driver, has been murdered. His body, as well as those of three other victims, was discovered less than an hour ago.”
Fear ignited in Lucas’s veins. “Victoria?”
“No sign of Victoria.”
Lucas reached for his cell. “Where did this happen?” He entered Victoria’s number for the umpteenth time as he spoke.
Ian gave the address, stopping Lucas cold.
“You’re certain?” Icy terror clamped around his throat.
Ian nodded. “Two of the other victims are male and appeared to be an ambush team of some sort. The detective in charge of the case believes one of the two is responsible for the driver’s death judging by the caliber of the weapon used and the positioning of the vehicle in which the ambush team arrived. Jim believes whoever took down the ambush team may have taken Victoria.”
“There’s been no ransom demand?” Lucas couldn’t breathe. “No calls whatsoever?” Of course there hadn’t been. He would have been notified immediately.
“Nothing,” Ian confirmed.
Something Ian had said in the beginning bobbed to the surface of the sheer terror swimming around in Lucas’s brain. “You said there were three victims besides the driver. What about the third one?”
“It’s a woman. Jennifer Ashton.”
The room shifted and Lucas suddenly wished for the cane he’d used for so many years.
Ian took hold of his arm and steadied him. “We shouldn’t think the worst yet. Victoria is a resourceful woman. I’m certain she had a good reason for going to that address.”
The address—the one Lucas had been given by his contact—was a crime-infested area. Generally the area was safe in the daylight hours. It was only at night that trouble crept out of its hiding places. He’d sent Lucky there. Had felt certain she’d be safe so early in the morning. Clearly he’d been wrong.
Lucas needed to sit down. For more than thirty years he had been unshakable. Untouchable. Now he felt as weak as a kitten. “I know the address,” he said as he collapsed into the nearest chair. “Jennifer Ashton is—was—a contact I’ve known for years.”
“Victoria had business with this contact?” Ian asked, settling into a chair next to Lucas.
Lucas shook his head. “I don’t know why she would have gone there. She didn’t know about the delivery.” His gaze locked with Ian’s. “Lucky was going to make the delivery for me. She was to take a taxi and meet Jennifer.” Where the hell was Lucky? How had Victoria en
ded up with her? Lucky was an unknown—none of Lucas’s or Victoria’s enemies would have been on the watch for. He had been so sure she would be safe. But Victoria… She was a high-profile target for anyone seeking revenge or a fast buck.
Ian reached into his pocket and withdrew his ringing cell phone. “Michaels.” That paralyzing fear pressed in around Lucas once more. Had he caused this horror? None of this was about Victoria and it certainly wasn’t about Lucky, now they were both unaccounted for.
“I understand,” Ian said to his caller. “Keep me posted.”
When he’d put away his phone, he said, “That was Simon. The driver’s GPS had been turned off and he made no notes in his activity journal.”
“Why would Victoria ask him to keep their movements off the record?” It didn’t make sense to Lucas, and he knew Victoria was the only one with the authority to make that request. Burt Cox had been with the Colby Agency for the past two years, since the former driver was killed in an attempt to abduct Victoria’s grandchild. Cox had passed the agency’s every security check. But that didn’t mean they hadn’t missed something. The technology for creating a past as well as a present was an ever-changing field. Even the best couldn’t always keep up with the latest techniques.
“Are you at liberty to disclose the nature of the delivery Lucky was to make to Jennifer Ashton?”
Lucas ignored the ache in his right leg, the one he’d lost three decades ago as a prisoner of war. He hadn’t suffered that phantom pain in a very long time. Just an indication of how badly the situation had shaken him.
“It’s Keaton.” Lucas had kept this nagging suspicion to himself for months now.
“The man who took over the Equalizers?” Surprise was evident in Ian’s voice.
Lucas nodded. “I had reservations about this anonymous buyer all along, but it wasn’t until Victoria and I bumped into him at dinner that those reservations turned to true concern.”
“I was under the impression no one had met him,” Ian countered. “Not even Jim.”
“That’s true.” Lucas had learned by accident himself. “Victoria and I were at dinner a few days ago and we ran into Maggie James. She introduced her dinner companion as Slade Keaton.” For clarification, Lucas added, “That was before Jim learned his identity. There was something about the man. I couldn’t quite nail it, but I sensed all through dinner that he paid far too much attention to Victoria and me.”