“Wait. What did you just say? Andie’s not with you?” Icicles penetrated his skin and chilled his heart.
“I thought she was with you,” Pam said. “What’s happened? She hasn’t called, and all my calls go to voicemail.”
“Same here. This is not good, not good,” he muttered. “When was the last time you heard from her?”
“A few days ago. She was talking about postponing the trip home, since she thought she had a lead for a job.”
“Then she had to be lying to me. She said she spoke to you and that James had a setback and she had to travel home immediately.”
“Oh, my, no. We haven’t heard from her.” Pam’s voice took on a panicked tone. “Do you think she met with foul play?”
“I hope not. Let’s calm down,” Cade said, even though his stomach roiled and sweat popped from his forehead. “I’ll ask around here, her friends, former boss, neighbors. Maybe she went out of town for a job interview.”
“And forgot to tell you? That’s unlike her. What if she’s lost her memory and wandered off? Maybe she thinks I called her, or dreamed it up. Cade, I’m heading over.”
“Not yet, please. I’m sorry to alarm you. Hold on until I find more information.”
“Don’t forget to file a missing person’s report. The police won’t act for twenty-four hours. When was the last time you saw her?”
“Yesterday afternoon. I think twenty-four hours is up. I’ll do that, but in the meantime, call me if you hear from her.” Cade could barely breathe when he hung up.
Had Andie really run away with another man? Did she even know who he was? What had Roxanne said, that the man was tall, dark, and Latino? Not much to go on.
He called Ronaldo. “I need Sylvia and Leroy’s phone numbers. Andie’s missing.”
“Missing? Since when?” Ronaldo asked.
“Yesterday evening.”
“You have no idea where she is?”
Something about the way Ronaldo inflected the word where gave Cade the creeps.
“Do you?”
“Why should I?”
“Because Declan and Roxanne happened to be at my house when I got back, and Andie was gone. They gave me this cockamamie story about her taking off with some tall, dark Latino. All lovey dovey and mysterious. Sounds just like something dramatic you’d pull off for one of your reality shows.”
“You give me way too much credit.” Ronaldo said.
Cade could feel the asswipe puff even through the phone, like he grew a couple of inches.
“No, I’m serious, dude. Prove you’re my friend and tell me what you did with Andie.”
“I got you the lawyer, didn’t I? The one who sprung you from jail. That proves I’m your buddy.”
“A lawyer who happens to be missing right now. He’s out with a client. Unfortunately, Owen’s not tall, dark and Latino, he’s more like round, red-faced, and egg-headed.”
“A real womanizer. Look, I’ll text you back Sylvia and Leroy’s phone numbers, but if I were you, I’d keep my eye on the game this Sunday.”
“Why? What’s going down?”
“Track the halftime lines. But the real action is at the two-minute line. By then the game’s almost locked up and any reversal skews the winnings tremendously.”
“So, you’re saying Andie and my mother missing are related to the start of the season this Sunday?”
“I’m not saying anything, dude. Try Sylvia and Leroy, she might have gone off on a shopping spree with them. I heard the historical costume convention’s in town.”
“Stop trying to tell me something without telling me. Are you with me or against me? Because Andie could be in danger, and I’ll never, ever forgive you if you know something and kept it quiet.”
“All I know is you got to trust the process. Stay home and watch the game.”
The line went dead.
Chapter Thirteen
Andie lay face down on a paper-covered vinyl examination table. Natasha, her cosmetician, sectioned off her hair, exposing the patch of skin where she’d had surgery to relieve the pressure in her skull after her car accident.
“This is perfect, perfect.” Natasha felt around the area. “I’m going to have to shave it again, sorry.”
“Sure, I’ve been hiding a bald spot for a few weeks already. What’s a few weeks more?”
“The miniature digital voice recorders we have these days are the size of a cufflink. The only thing is you’ll be stripped and searched before they let you into the private game room. They will then give you clothes to wear, including underwear and shoes. Which is why hiding the device in your hair works so well. Sure, they’ll pull on your hair to see if you’re wearing a wig, but I doubt they’d go through every inch of your head.”
“May I see it?” Andie turned her face toward Natasha.
She showed her a tiny chip which was colored already to match her hair. It was a little thicker than a coin, but about the size of a game token.
“I’ll go ahead and shave that patch, then apply adhesive,” Natasha said. “I’ve even devised a covering with some real strands of hair.”
She slipped the recording device into a skin colored sack which was covered with human hair.
“Wow, it’ll be hard for them to see it,” Andie said. “But of course, if they were to feel for it, they might find it.”
“True, but because of your surgery, you’re missing a bit of skull there, so I can sort of jimmy this device in and stretch the skin across. It may be slightly uncomfortable, but let me know if it’s too tight.”
“I’m supposed to get that piece of skull replaced, but I keep putting it off. Too much going on.” Andie shrugged.
“I’ll say, but once we catch these guys, you’ll deserve a rest. We’re pretty sure it’s someone closely associated with the team, but until we catch them red-handed, it’ll be hard to build a case.”
“I just wonder why the elaborate game? Don’t most people place their bets online?”
“Those are small potatoes and people unaffiliated with the sport. Whoever’s manipulating the game got greedy when they hit huge odds at the Super Bowl. They’ve been itching to get back in the game. Betting on trades and draft picks is nowhere as lucrative as a live action game.” Natasha talked as she attached the digital voice recorder masquerading under a tail of hair. “Don’t be freaked out when they examine you. They’ll even check your vagina and anus, do a quick probe.”
“Ugh, I don’t like that.”
“Well, unfortunately, body cavity searches are part and parcel for both law enforcement and organized crime. Fortunately, they think you’re one of theirs, so they won’t hurt you. After all, someone high in their food chain had to have recommended you.”
“Who do you think it was?” Andie shuddered as a skittering of chills skipped down her spine.
“Just felt someone walking on your grave?” Natasha chuckled. “The key is to not think about it. If you go in there suspicious and trying to pin someone, it sets their guard up. People in this line of work have keen intuition. Something won’t feel quite right. So keep your brain out of it. Just do as you’re told, and we’ll get you out of there after the job’s done. Likely, you’ll be just fine, and you can go back to your hotel room like nothing happened.”
“You make it sound so easy.” Andie placed her face on her hands and swallowed hard.
“It is, for you. It’s all of us behind the scenes folks who have to do all the worrying. The key is to catch the guy giving the orders and tail the person who takes the chips from you. That’s our job.”
Natasha’s hands were competent and calming. After fixing up her hair, she swept it over her head and poured massage oil over Andie’s back. “If anyone’s watching, you went to a day spa.”
“All the way in the outskirts of town?”
“Yeah, you and your so-called husband aren’t wealthy and anyway, I doubt anyone’s tailing you other than our own people. They were concerned about you disappearing to the res
troom a little too long.”
“I had belly cramps. Gas. It was embarrassing so I didn’t want Owen to hover nearby. It’s all better now.”
“Good. Get a good night’s sleep, put on your makeup like usual. Don’t wash your hair, obviously, then go to the Sparks Casino at halftime.”
“What should I wear?”
“Anything. No need to draw attention to yourself. You’re going to consistently bet on the line between zero and zero-zero until someone pulls you aside. Follow him or her. You’ll be given an earpiece and told what bets to place. The wheel will be rigged for you to win, so act excited and a little fey. Collect your winnings and meet the contact person. He or she will take you to a room where you’ll leave the chips.”
“That’s it? Is the contact person on our side?” Andie yawned as the massage loosened the knots in her shoulder.
“Don’t think or make assumptions. That’s key to surviving this.”
* * *
Cade made phone calls to Sylvia and Leroy, and not surprisingly, they hadn’t heard from Andie.
He’d called Roxanne and asked her to keep Bret for the next few days. He’d fly all the way to New York, if he knew she had headed that direction.
Why? Andie. Why didn’t you tell me? And where are you now?
There had to be a clue somewhere. He spread the pamphlets and hotel bills, key cards, and notes he’d retrieved from his mother’s room on the kitchen table and studied the handwriting. It looked similar to the ones on the notes he’d been getting.
He rushed into his room and pulled the notes from his pillow case. They fluttered out, unfolded. He could have sworn he’d refolded every one of them, which meant Andie had seen these.
Compared side to side, it was clear that whoever wrote the gambling instructions had also written the notes. It seemed to be a feminine hand, but then again, it could be faked, especially the exaggerated curly letters and exclamation points with circles in place of dots.
Had Andie decided to go after the person who wrote the notes? But how would she proceed? Who would tell her?
He scrolled through his phone and re-read her text messages. How could she have let him worry like this?
His phone jingled with a message from an unfamiliar number, It’s me. I’m safe. Please don’t worry.
His heartbeat rocked and rolled. It had to be Andie.
Cade: I have to worry. You disappeared and didn’t tell me where.
Andie: I can’t tell you. Trust me, please. I’ll be back.
Cade: Where are you?
Andie: Don’t come after me. You’ll blow everything up.
Cade: You know I will.
Andie: Are you mad?
Cade: No, I’m not. I read your note.
Andie: So if I tell you I have a little surprise, you won’t freak?
Cade: Of course not. I just want you back.
Andie: I’ll be back. No worries.
Cade: What’s your surprise?
Andie: You sure you want to know?
Cade: Not after you drop a little bomb like that. Of course.
Andie: Well, okay. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Promise you won’t be mad at me.
Cade: Promise.
Andie: I’m baking you something.
Cade: ???
Andie: You’re going to love it.
Cade: I’ve no clue. What are you making?
Andie: A little bun. Remember the lobster roll?
Cade: You remember?
Andie: I remember the buns.
Cade: Okay… so you’re going to surprise me and go food trucking with me?
Andie: Holy honey buns, I gotta go.
Cade: I miss you, sweetsy.
Andie: Miss you too. I’ll be back Monday.
Cade: With your bun.
Andie: Yep. Love you.
Cade: Love you, too. Tell me where you are.
Andie: Sorry, gotta go.
Yeah, right. Like he was going to let her go. Cade called the number, but she didn’t pick up. The phone had no voicemail set up, but it did have an area code. He typed it into a search engine and there it was, Las Vegas. Dammit. Andie.
Something about what Ronaldo said rang a bell. Stay home and watch the game.
The hell he would. Andie was probably in Vegas to investigate the gambling ring. Which meant she was in danger.
Somehow, some way, he was going to find her and bring her back. She was nuts, but she was his nut.
Chapter Fourteen
It was game day, Sunday, and Cade was on his way to Las Vegas after doing his research. He’d gotten up early in the morning and had flown to Chowchilla to see his sister. She confirmed what he’d feared. Andie was being set up. He wouldn’t put it past his sister to have told her bosses that Andie planned on working for the Feds.
How could Andie have fallen for this scheme? She was a naïve, innocent, trusting woman, and all she probably thought about was clearing his name and saving his mother. Gosh, what a sweetheart, but sweet and danger didn’t mix.
He hailed a cab to take him from the prison to the airport, unable to stop shaking his head and wringing his hands. Andie, his sweet and trusting Andie, loved him so much she would risk her life to save his family.
What had he ever done to deserve such an angel? He’d never been a praying man before, in fact, he knew next to nothing about God and Jesus, but he bowed his head in the taxi and prayed, visualizing Andie alive and well.
He rubbed his eyes and blinked before looking up, only to find that the cab had already arrived at the tiny municipal airport in Chowchilla.
“Praying for luck in Vegas?” The driver smirked as he opened the door for Cade.
“You got it. I need lots of luck, so help me God.” He handed his credit card to the driver and signed the electronic pad.
Even though adrenaline shot through his bloodstream and he hadn’t slept well for nights, a soothing calmness swept over Cade as he walked across the tarmac to the commuter jet taking him to Vegas.
He now knew how much he was loved, and how much he was capable of loving. And with God by his side, who could be against him?
* * *
Today was game day. Sunday, the opening day of the new football season.
Andie sat in front of the mirror and wiggled her head from side to side, trying to see if the voice transmitter could be seen.
The hair attached to the skin pouch was a little darker than her real hair, but she could see the difference only if she stared.
“Owen, are you sure you can’t see anything strange?” She whipped her head back and forth.
He appeared behind her, fixing his tie. “Not a thing.”
“How do I know it’ll turn on?” She prodded the hard button glued to her scalp.
“Stop poking at it, it’s voice activated. Like right now, they’re probably laughing at you.”
“Ugh, fine. How long does the battery last?”
“Seventy-two hours in standby mode. Plenty of time.” He swooped over her and kissed her on the cheek. “Had fun today?”
“Yeah, it feels like my last day of school or something and all I have between me and summer is a killer final exam.”
Which was why Owen had taken her to church in the morning and sightseeing in the afternoon. They’d gone to the Mob Museum in downtown Vegas, and then out to a farm filled with all sorts of cuddly animals.
She had watched the films about the FBI and wiretapping, and got to handle a few simulated guns, including the gun which brought down Al Capone.
All of the activities, including petting animals at the farm and snacking on jams, jellies, and cheese helped keep her mind off the football game.
For a while, at least. Now that game time loomed, her stomach resumed its churning.
“Are we going to watch the game in here or down at the bar?” She fidgeted with her mascara brush, trying to shake off the clumps.
“Whatever makes you feel better. We don’t have to be down there until halftime.”
“Maybe we should take a walk. Or eat something. I wish I could take a nap.”
“Then take a nap. Lie down. I won’t bother you.” Owen grabbed the remote and turned off the TV. “You want some alone time? I can go out for a bit.”
“Yeah, that’ll be good. I’ll meditate or something. Clear my mind.”
Owen peeked back from the door. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be back when it’s show time.”
“Show time. Right.” She wiped her palms on her dress. If this was how actors and actresses felt before taking the stage, then maybe she wasn’t cut out for acting.
Had she really wanted to be an actress or was it something Declan wanted for her? Growing up, she was interested in ancient history, fables, and myth. Had that translated into acting, or was the only story she was interested in that of King David and his many wives?
Andie rested on the recliner and closed her eyes, concentrating on her breathing, as Natasha had instructed, as a way to ward off stage fright.
Only it wasn’t working. Each brainwave crashed into the next and instead of slowing, her breathing skipped and grew faster. Add to that, the fiery snakes were tunneling in her mind and making her dizzy. Sweat prickled her, and she felt as if she couldn’t get enough air. The room broiled and her skin itched with creepy crawly sensations.
Gah! The ticking of the bedside clock, an antique, haunted her like a prop out of an Edgar Allan Poe movie.
She shouldn’t touch that prepaid phone. Cade was probably at the Flash Stadium in Hollywood, getting dressed to sit out the game. Even though he wasn’t taking the field, he would be there to support his teammates.
Andie grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV. Maybe she could catch a glimpse of him, or they’d interview him on the pre-game show. The announcers were gossiping about how Dick Davis, the former owner of the Flash, had gone missing. Fortunately, his wife seemed to have stepped up to take control of the team, at least in the interim before finding a new owner.
Andie’s eyes glazed over at the chitchat about the preseason stats, possible trades before the trading deadline and talk about the salary cap and cap hits.
Intercepted by Love: Part Five: A Football Romance (The Quarterback's Heart Book 5) Page 8