"I know," he said. "I know who you really are. You killed my son. And I’ve got your daughter. You’ll never see her again."
"Who is this! Who is this!" She’d heard the click cutting off the connection. Still, she screamed into the phone. Dead silence answered her.
She dropped the phone. Her body was shaking, and she couldn’t think straight. She had to do something, but what? Who could she call? What would she say? Who was on the phone? The police. Call the police, a voice in her consciousness spoke.
She didn’t know how long she stood there unable to move or do anything. Marianne found her.
"Brooke, what is it!" She took her friend’s hands and squeezed them. "Your hands are ice cold." Marianne replaced the phone then pushed Robyn into a chair. "Who was on the phone?" she asked.
It took a while for her to be able to speak. Then the words came out slow and labored. "I don’t know."
The phone rang again. Robyn jumped up. Her eyes widened in fear. If she’d had enough breath, she would have screamed, but her voice was cut short and a terrible pain lodged in her chest. Marianne picked up the phone.
"Jacob."
Robyn snatched the phone from her partner.
"Jacob!" she screamed into the receiver. "Kari’s been kidnapped!"
Chapter 18
It had been too long time since Jacob had a field assignment. Blood coursed through his veins like rushing wind. Adrenaline pumped through his system. He could smell the danger, taste the adventure. And it was thrilling. He maneuvered the rented Lincoln through the evening rush hour as people hurried toward their homes and uneventful evenings. His evening would prove to be quite different.
Jacob and Grant arrived at the same time. Marianne hadn’t left Robyn’s side. The redhead had managed to get Robyn home. Since arriving, the phone had not rung, but they’d found a note on the kitchen counter. Robyn’s cheeks were the color of kindergarten paste, and she kept looking at the phone as if she could make it ring.
Seeing the two men come into the room together confused Robyn. Before she had time to ask questions, Jacob broke the silence.
"Has any other contact been made?" he asked, taking command.
"We found a note," Marianne reported. "The restaurant will forward any calls."
"Where’s the note?"
Marianne gave the recipe card she’d found to Jacob. Grant’s writing was on the opposite side. Robyn could see it as Jacob read. He read the words Robyn knew by heart.
21 October
You will lose the one
you love above all others.
As I have lost.
Grant came to Robyn and took her in his arms. "Are you all right?" he asked.
"Grant, it’s. . .it’s Kari. Kari’s been kidnapped." It was the final straw. Robyn dropped her head on his shoulder and burst into tears. Marianne and Jacob looked on.
"Can I talk to her alone?" Grant asked over Robyn’s head. Jacob nodded. He led her into the kitchen.
"It’s going to be all right, Brooke," Grant said.
"You don’t know that, Grant, There’s so much you don’t know. So much I can’t tell you."
"I know you’re my wife, and I’ve been in love with you since I saw you dance across a stage in Las Vegas six years ago."
Robyn’s eyes dried and came up to meet her husband’s. "How?"
"Jacob. He’s told me everything. The trial. Gianelli. The Witness Protection Program."
"And Kari?" she asked.
"She is our daughter," he said.
"Oh Grant," she went into his arms. "Can you ever forgive me? I love you so much, I couldn’t ask you to come with me."
"We’ll talk about that later. Right now, we have to find Kari."
Robyn’s smile was thin but confident. They returned to the living room. The activity had increased. Hammil was there along with two other men. They had cellular phones and laptop computers. Everyone seemed busy accessing data by phone or machine. Marianne and Jacob stood near the front hall. They were deep in conversation but stopped when Grant and Robyn re-entered the room.
"Brooke, we’ve got to ask you some questions." Jacob came toward her.
"I’m all right." She lifted her chin in a gesture Jacob recognized. "What do you want to know?"
He started. The questions were fired one by one, and she answered them as she remembered. She repeated everything the man had said on the phone.
"Did you recognize the voice?"
"No, but I have the feeling I know who he is."
"Why?" Jacob asked.
"I don’t know. Just that I’ve heard it someplace before." She put her hands on her temples and closed her eyes trying to pull the voice into focus.
"Where?"
"I don’t know," she shouted, bringing her hands back to her sides.
"How long ago?"
"I don’t know?"
"Jacob, stop badgering her," Grant interceded.
"Its okay, Grant," Robyn took his hand. "Jacob doesn’t mean it the way it sounds." Grant’s hand lightened on hers.
"Think, Brooke. Kari’s life depends on you remembering," Jacob said.
"Don’t you think I know that? She’s my daughter," Robyn glared at him then felt guilty for it. Jacob was obviously concerned about her daughter, and this was his way of displaying it.
"Brooke, he said you killed his son," Marianne spoke.
"Yes, but he didn’t tell me who his son was."
"There were only two men at the trial who are now dead," Jacob began.
"Gianelli was found with his wrists slashed two days after being committed. And the Devil was executed."
"Who’s the Devil?" Grant asked.
“A man named Alex Jordan. He headed a very powerful organization called the Crime Network. For years, he was reported dead by eye witnesses. Then, he’d surface after some magnificent kill. "
Grant was propelled from his position next to Robyn. He stood inches from Jacob. "Are you sure?"
"Absolutely," Jacob said.
All eyes focused on Grant. Sound stopped in the room. The computers stilled.
“What?” Jacob asked.
"Alex Jordan is Will’s son." Grant’s voice was like rifle fire in a confined space.
"McAdams doesn’t have a son. He’s got four daughters. There were several boys he mentored years ago, including you.” Jacob looked directly at Grant. “McAdams was thoroughly researched when he moved next door to Robyn. We found his educational background, military record, employment history, personal activities, but no son.”
"Will never married Alex’s mother, and for years, he didn’t acknowledge Alex as his child," Grant interrupted.
“According to Alex, his mother married someone else before Alex was born. The name of the man she married is on his the birth certificate. So there’s no record of Will as Alex’s biological father.”
Grant looked around. All eyes were leveled at him.
“Alex was a smart kid,” he went on. “Alex didn’t confront Will head on after discovering the truth. He was twelve when that happened. The man he thought was his father, died leaving them without means. His mother struggled for several years before telling Alex the truth about his father. Alex befriended Will. Like the rest of us boys, he was in and out of Will’s house. He took a bottle Will drank from and backed it up with some clipped fingernails and one of Will’s old toothbrushes. He had them tested at a DNA lab. The results were undisputable.
“What happened after he found out?” Brooke asked.
“Alex told him.” Grant paused in the quiet room. “According to Alex things didn’t go well. Will tore up the DNA results and ordered him out of the house. Alex wasn’t around for another couple of years. Will never mentioned him and when we asked, he only said he was away.”
“Did you tell him you knew Alex was his son?”
Grant shook his head. “Alex confided in me and I promised not to say anything. Alex came back two years later and when he was he was fifteen Wil
l mentioned he was his son. Will’s approval was the one thing Alex wanted above all else. He came during the summers and stay with Will, and because we were kind of in the same boat, we were closer to each other than the guys with two parents."
Robyn took his hand, knowing how Grant felt about losing his parents and belonging to no one.
"Alex would do anything Will asked of him. Sometimes, Will was hard on him, not approving what he did when Alex wanted it so badly. There was love between them, but Will always pulled back, and Alex was forever trying to prove himself worthy. This afternoon Will couldn’t even speak his name."
"You saw. . .Will this afternoon?" Robyn stammered. Her attention was on Grant, but she saw Jacob giving orders to Hammil and the younger man who went to the computer he’d brought with him.
"Will brought Kari to the airfield. He called a couple of days ago and asked when I was going to be in town,” Grant said. “I switched schedules with another pilot and flew in and out this afternoon. Jacob’s call came almost the moment I landed."
"Will wouldn’t take Kari." Robyn was shaking her head. "He loves her. She calls him Graffie for grandfather, and she loves him. Will wouldn’t do this. There has to be another explanation."
Jacob wished there was, but as he asked question after question, there appeared to be no other explanation. No one outside of that room knew about her. She had never told Will about her past. She had adhered as much as she could to Jacob’s rules. The only man who knew slightly more was Grant— and Jacob told him about her. So why would Will take Kari? What could he know? And how could he have found out?
The noise increased as the machinery was turned back on. The other agents were squawking into the phones, and several were punching on the small computer keyboards. Suddenly, it was deafening to Robyn. Grant’s hand in hers was the only solid force in the room.
The night wore on. Robyn was tired of answering questions and coming to no conclusions. Where had he taken Kari? Where did they look? Why hadn’t they called the police? Something had to be done. Someone had to find out what had caused Will to do this terrible thing, and someone had to save Kari. Suddenly, she knew. None of these people knew Will or Kari. It had to be her. She had to save her child.
"Jacob, I want my old job back," Robyn stepped forward, shouting above the noise.
"What!" His voice silenced the room. The fingers poised above the three laptop computers behind her stopped hitting the keys. The cellular phones, standard issue of the Service, ceased their snappy whirling rings. None of the harsh voices of the strangers in her living room barked commands into the black plastic handsets.
Grant came up behind her, resting his hands on her upper arms. The gesture gave her strength.
"I want my old job back," she announced.
"Now!" Jacob looked at her as if the pressures of the past few hours had finally snapped her mind.
"Yes, now." Her voice was slightly impatient, but the gentle squeeze from Grant’s hands calmed her.
Jacob raked a hand through the dark crop of curls that slipped onto his forehead like an errant cloud. He took a deep breath and for a moment, closed his eyes. "Would you mind telling me why you want to return to the FBI?"
"I want to save my daughter’s life."
"What does Kari have to do with your old job?"
"Kari doesn’t, but somehow Will does," she paused a second. "It’s back there, in Washington, locked in the computers of the Major Crimes Bureau. And I have to find it."
Jacob’s coat and tie had long since been discarded. He had placed them neatly over the back of one of the wing chairs, but the constant sweep of men and equipment entering and leaving had caused them to fall in a heap on the floor. He stood before her with the collar of his white shirt unbuttoned and the hint of dark hair just below his collar bones. He looked at her with a steady gaze.
"It’s been years, Brooke. Even if there was a connection, it would take days to find it."
"Not for me." She saw Jacob’s eyes narrow.
"I know you were a computer wizard, but the technology has changed in the last five years. I’m not even sure they have the same equipment. You don’t know the passwords to gain access. To say nothing of the security clearance required just to enter the building."
"Jacob, you can cut through the red tape and get me in."
He sighed heavily. The errant curls falling forward again.
"I’ll have a remote set up here." He turned, to say something to one of the men behind him.
"No," Robyn stopped him with a hand on his arm.
"It’s got to be in Washington. There are files there, access to other computers, and you know the moment an unauthorized machine enters the network it’ll be tracked and shut down."
She was trembling, afraid Jacob would argue against her going.
"Brooke, Kari is still here. We have no reason to believe McAdams has taken her out of the city. Why do you want to go to Washington?" Jacob took a step closer to her. Compassion entered his voice. "He could kill her at any moment."
"We’ve got two days, Jacob. He won’t kill her until the twenty-first at midnight."
"How do you know that?"
Robyn’s hand reached around in search of Grant’s solid protection. She found it and held it tightly. "It’s on the note," she said quietly.
Jacob’s stride was determined as he went to the piano and picked up the damning piece of paper. It was dated October twenty-first. Two days from now. "This isn’t proof, Brooke. He’s deranged."
"You don’t know that." Her eyes flashed. Will had been good to her and Kari. If it hadn’t been for him, she didn’t think she could have survived the demanding hours at the restaurant.
"All right, he could have just forgotten the date."
"He didn’t forget." She knew the date, knew where she had seen it and what significance it had. "The twenty-first of October at midnight was when Alex Jordan had been administered a lethal injection at a federal penitentiary." She pushed aside the eye-for-an-eye thought. They couldn’t let him inject Kari and kill her.
"I have to go, Jacob." Tears came to her eyes but she blinked them away. She was too keyed up now. If she let herself cry, she’d be hysterical in seconds.
"You really think there’s something back there? Something we don’t know here?" Jacob’s gaze was that of a friend, not the official marshal who’d guided her into the program.
"Yes, I do," she answered calmly. He stared at her for a long moment. Then, the room seemed to galvanize into action.
"Give me a phone. I’ll get us a plane." Hammil snapped a cellular unit in his hand like a nurse slapping a scalpel.
"I have a plane standing by," Grant dropped his hands. "I’ll call the airport, and let them know we’re on our way," he called over his shoulder as he went to her phone in the kitchen.
Jacob was already speaking into his unit. His comments were crisp and precise. "Get a jacket," Jacob said quietly. His voice was so tender she could almost believe she’d never heard its harsh tones directed at her.
Robyn ran up the steps quickly. She heard Jacob ordering Marianne to stay there and transfer calls. She didn’t hear what calls needed transferring. Pulling a brown suede jacket with western fringe from its hanger, she pushed her arms through the sleeves. On her way to the door, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her face was pale and drawn, and there were dark circles under her eyes. Impulsively, she picked up her lipstick and coated her mouth with a deep pink color. Then, using the same tube, she dotted her cheeks and rubbed the color into her skin. It highlighted her cheeks and softened her strained look.
There was a brush on the table. Kari’s brush. She pulled it through her hair and left the room. Grant was waiting for her when she reached the bottom of the stairs. He had his jacket on, but his face looked as tense as hers. The night had not been an easy one for him either. The room was straightened. No sign, except the dark impression of footprints on the carpet, gave evidence that anyone had been there
.
Marianne and Jacob were in the kitchen. They separated when Robyn entered as if they’d been caught doing some thing wrong. Marianne turned to the sink and began cleaning coffee cups. Jacob’s G-Man disguise settled over him like paint.
"What’s that?" Robyn asked, the sound of an approaching helicopter taking her attention away from what her mind had registered.
"The chopper’s here," Jacob explained. "This way." Robyn didn’t blink as he led her toward the door. She stopped briefly to hug Marianne. Then, she followed the two men out into the dark night. Nothing Jacob did surprised her any longer. A helicopter on her back lawn was standard operating procedure for him. Robyn, Grant, and Jacob ducked and ran toward the giant machine sitting on the green grass like a squatting bird. She stepped on the ski and propelled herself into the small cabin. Grant and Jacob followed closely behind. Without a word, the pilot took off, and minutes later she was high above the city.
It took less than five minutes to reach the airport. She was quickly ushered into Grant’s plane. The moment Jacob stepped onboard the doors closed, and the plane began taxiing. After they were immediately cleared and airborne, Robyn knew Jacob had pulled rank and cleared traffic. He spent the entire time on the phone. Robyn didn’t know who he talked to, but the conversation was fast and animated. She knew Jacob worked for the Marshal’s service, not the FBI. Yet he had them flying there.
At Reagan National Airport, again, the sky was stacked with aircraft, but their clearance was immediate. Deplaning, she boarded a second helicopter which flew them directly to a heliport within the FBI complex. Robyn was seated behind her old computer at the Assassination Bureau, the tiny sign she’d printed years earlier was faded and torn, but taped to the top of a new monitor. An hour and a half after she had told Jacob she wanted her old job back, here she was.
None of them wore the visitors’ badges required of every outsider entering the building. And how many rules had Jacob broken getting them into this facility? In addition, the room was clear. Every machine was inactive. It appeared as if everyone had left hours ago. Except for the heat against her hand when she touched one of the desktop machines, she’d have thought there was no night operation. She knew Jacob’s constant telephone conversations while they were on the plane were responsible for the empty area.
Under the Sheets (Capitol Chronicles Book 1) Page 26