Emma found herself staring at the cell provider’s home screen. “Now what?”
“Do you happen to know her password?”
Emma shook her head.
“That will be a problem.” David frowned. “This is a three strikes system.”
“In English?”
“If you enter an incorrect password more than three times you’re automatically locked out of the system.”
“That sucks.”
“Ideas?”
Emma began to pace her office. She tried to think of all the things that her sister might have used. Amelia had changed carriers three months ago, just after her engagement to Brody. She gave David the date of Brody’s proposal but that didn’t work.
Strike one.
She glanced at the clock, then reached for the phone.
“Hello?” came a gravelly male voice on the other end.
Emma winced. It was barely seven o’clock. “Brody, it’s Em. Did I wake you?”
She heard him clear his throat. “My alarm was about to go off anyway. Reggie called me last night. She said Amelia had taken a side trip from Purdue?”
“Actually,” she said gently, “she’s sort of disappeared.”
Brody wigged out for a few minutes before she could get him back under control. “Do you know the password for her cell account?”
“Her Facebook password is Twins1986. Maybe she uses that for everything.”
Emma repeated the potential password to David.
Strike Two.
She thanked Brody and promised to keep him abreast of things in Purdue but declined his offer to come down. Amelia would be furious if Emma did anything to alert Brody to their past. Besides, Emma didn’t want or need him underfoot.
The doorbell chimed, bringing Emma back to the present. She stepped into the hallway to find Willis Maddox standing in her foyer. “Good morning, ma’am,” he greeted.
“What can I do for you?”
“I need to buy some sod for the backyard and I was wondering if I could rent a truck for a few hours so I can do it all in one trip. It’s only nineteen-ninety-nine for the rental.”
“Of course,” Emma said. She went to her purse and took forty dollars out of her wallet. She handed him the money and Willis stared at it for a second.
“This is too much,” he said, trying to hand her back one of the twenties.
“There might be tax,” she explained. “Oh, and I called the home improvement place and we’ve got an account there now, so just tell them to bill the sod to my account. Wait. Do you have a driver’s license?”
“Good for one more year,” he said with pride. “I had to take the test four times but I finally got it.”
Emma smiled. “Okay, then. Thank you.”
Willis left the house and Emma went back to David, who asked her, “What about her social security number or her birthday?”
Exhaling slowly, she ask, “What’s the most common password?”
“‘Password’.”
“Seriously?” she asked.
David nodded. “Want me to try that?”
Emma hesitated, then said, “Why not.”
She watched as he typed in the word, then paused before hitting the enter key.
Strike three.
Damn.
“How long will we be locked out of the account?” she asked.
“Usually it’s a twenty-four-hour hold, but I might be able to get around that. Want me to keep trying?”
Emma nodded, then went to refill her coffee. In the kitchen she found Jeanine making a huge breakfast of eggs, hash brown potatoes, and bacon. Jeanine was working the stove like a short order cook, quick and proficient.
Emma snagged a strip of bacon. “How do you manage to get everything to the table hot at the same time?”
“Practice,” she answered. She stopped, spatula in hand, and met Emma’s gaze. “Are you going to fire me?” she asked.
“God, no,” Emma answered immediately. “I mean, I’m not thrilled that David and Samantha were in my office, but he only did that to try and help.”
Jeanine seemed to relax instantly. “I was up worried all night, afraid that you’d toss me out on my ear and I’d end up back with Skeeter.”
“Not going to happen,” Emma promised. “I’m not Renae Burke.”
Jeanine scoffed. “You don’t have to tell me. That woman is a whole different kinda animal.”
“How so?” Emma asked as she refilled her coffee mug, then leaned with her back against the counter. She was careful to control her tone as to not sound overly curious and make Jeanine suspicious.
“For a well-bred woman, she sure is rude. I’ll never understand how Mary has worked for her for so long.” Jeanine started to scramble eggs. “She’s demanding and secretive.”
Again, Emma tried not to sound too eager, but again she asked, “How so?”
“Well,” Jeanine said on a breath. “Silly stuff. I had to fold the laundry but I wasn’t allowed to put it in the dresser. Just on the edge of the bed. Like I was going to trifle through her belongings.”
“That’s a little strange.”
“Then there were the times when she’d practically banish me.”
“What?”
Jeanine just shrugged. “Sometimes she would get a call, then the next thing I know she’d send me home for the day.”
“Do you know why?”
“Well, one day, I was in the middle of buffing the dining room floor and she came in and told me to leave, but I had to explain I had to get the wax up off the floor before it dried and screwed up the wood. She wasn’t happy and when the doorbell rang, she raced to answer it and then took whoever came over right on back into her study and closed the door.”
“Do you know who it was?”
“Never saw him before or since.”
“Maybe it was just a business deal,” Emma suggested.
Jeanine shook her head. “Mrs. Burke acted like I was invisible when she discussed business with people. That was the only time I can ever remember her even answering her own front door.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Maybe six months,” Jeanine said as she took the pan off the stove and transferred the eggs to a platter. “Let’s get some food in you,” she said. “You didn’t eat last night and you need to keep your strength up.”
Maybe she was too worried about Amelia, or perhaps she’d had too much coffee. At any rate, Emma barely touched the mountain of food Jeanine prepared. She was carrying her plate to the sink when the doorbell rang.
Conner, decked out in his uniform, had Samantha in tow. He was also holding an intriguing manila envelope.
“Good morning,” she greeted him as he moved past her. She caught the faint, woodsy scent of his cologne and it had an instant, calming effect on her.
Based on the look on Samantha’s face, David must have given Conner’s daughter a heads up on the office violation situation.
“I got the phone records,” Conner said as he handed over the envelope.
Emma slipped her fingernail beneath the flap and tore. Inside were three pages of records. She immediately flipped to the previous day and scanned the phone numbers. “This one is the hospital my mom’s in. This one is her friend Regina’s number. What are these two?” she asked, pointing to one entry between the call to the hospital and another entry a few minutes after her call to Regina.
Conner came and looked over her shoulder. He was close enough so she could feel the heat coming off his body. His warm breath fell on her neck. The combination made it hard for her to concentrate on the phone records because she was remembering—vividly—what it was like to be in his arms, being kissed senseless. When he stepped back, she felt abandoned and sad.
“I asked our tech guy and he said those calls were most likely from a burner phone.”
“Great,” Emma groused. “They can’t be traced.”
“But they can be triangulated,” he explained. “I’ve got our tech divis
ion working with the phone company right now so we can see where your sister’s phone has been pinging since she got into that Crown Vic.”
Her hopes soared. “That’s great.”
Conner’s expression grew more serious. “I have more news.”
“What?” Emma asked, heart dropping at his grim expression.
“I had our lab run the prints off those news clippings.”
“And?”
“Yours, which are on file from when you were admitted to the state bar association.”
“To be expected.”
Conner looked past Emma to David, who was standing in the hallway next to Samantha. “David Segan’s prints were on them.”
Emma turned and gave him a withering look. “I thought you only went into my office to use my computer.”
“I may have looked around a little,” he admitted with his head hung low.
“Two sets of unidentifiable prints.”
“So, whoever was sending the clippings to me isn’t in the system.”
“You didn’t let me finish.”
“Sorry.”
“There was one other set of prints.”
“Belonging to…?”
“Your boss, Elgin Hale.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Emma was stunned. Elgin? Seriously?
“I don’t understand,” she mumbled as she tried to digest this unforeseen complication. What could Elgin hope to gain by luring her to Purdue? “I don’t remember him being in any of the news clippings I read about. Was he even at the assassination?”
“He was a public defender back then,” Conner said. “I checked.”
His radio crackled to life. “Go ahead for Kavanaugh,” he said into the receiver.
“We’ve got a location on that cell number.”
Emma’s heart stopped.
“Give it to me.”
“One-hundred yards east of the logging road off highway fifty-two.”
“I’m heading there now. Have Hammond and Miller meet me there. Everybody goes in quiet. Got it?”
“Yes sir.”
Emma grabbed her purse and her gun from the drawer in the foyer table.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Conner asked as he clipped the radio back to his shoulder.
“I’m coming with you,” she stated, practically daring him to contradict her. “Amelia could be hurt or frightened.”
Conner pointed to her gun. “So you’re going to shoot her?”
“It’s just a precaution. We don’t know what will happen when we get there.” She stuffed the gun in her bag and headed for the door. “Coming?” she asked.
“This is a bad idea,” he mumbled as he followed her out to his SUV.
Once they were belted in and on their way, he said, “Under no circumstances are you to get out of this car. Understood?”
“But—”
“No buts. I should not have agreed to let you come along.”
“Amelia is my sister,” Emma said softly.
“I know that. But my feelings for you clouded my decision making and I don’t like that.”
Emma stilled in her seat. “I thought you were pissed at me.”
“I am,” he admitted easily. “You should have told me the truth before we slept together.”
“As I remember it, we didn’t do a lot of talking that night.”
“You had the entire time we were having dinner,” he reminded her with a quick glance in her direction.
“Right. ‘My father killed a sitting president’ is usually my first-date choice of conversations.” Emma adjusted her seatbelt. “Can’t you drive any faster?”
“We’re going ninety-five.”
She was suddenly gripped with a sense of dread. “The phone triangulation doesn’t mean she’s alive, does it.”
Conner reached over and squeezed her thigh through her jeans. “You can’t think like that.”
Reflexively, she covered his hand with hers and drew comfort from the contact. She glanced out the window, running possible scenarios through her head. None of them were good. She tried to concentrate on the area, but there wasn’t much to see except an old growth pine forest and the occasional fan palm. They were on a two-lane road that made the tires go thump-thump every quarter mile or so.
“The turnoff is up ahead,” Conner said as he killed the lights atop the SUV. “I’ll say it again: you stay in the car.”
Conner went in about fifty yards, then parked the car diagonally, partially blocking the logging road.
As he got out of the car, he drew his weapon and cautiously began moving down the road.
Emma’s heart was racing, which got even worse when Conner was out of sight. She kept glancing at both sides of the road, wondering when the other deputies would show up so Conner wouldn’t be on his own. Hell, there could be more than one kidnapper.
With no backup in sight and her heart pounding in her ears, Emma retrieved her gun and stepped out of the vehicle. Pine straw crunched beneath her feet and she listened above the din of insects for any other sound. It was warming up and she was so nervous that she began to perspire.
“Stop!” she heard Conner call.
She quickened her pace but only for a second, when she heard the crackle of gunfire. Emma hugged the tree line as she moved toward the sound. She had gone about twenty yards when she spotted Conner crouched behind a fallen tree trunk. He had his gun trained on an old, abandoned-looking mobile home.
She worked her way toward him.
“You were supposed to stay in the car,” he said when she fell into place beside him.
“I heard shots.”
Emma looked around and found the landscape odd. She was kneeling on pavers covered by years of debris. The trailer was dilapidated but she could just make out a short walkway still visible beneath the overgrowth. “What is this place?” she whispered.
“It was supposed to be a development project years ago but it fell through.”
“Who owns it?”
“How should I know?” Conner answered. “I’m working here.”
“Any sighting of Amelia?”
“Yes.”
Relief flooded her body. “That’s—”
There was a barrage of gunfire and Emma found herself tossed down, face first into the pine straw. She felt Conner’s weight on top of her as the gunfire continued unabated.
After what felt like an eternity, Conner rolled off her at the sound of an engine revving.
Emma struggled to her feet just as the taillights of a Crown Vic disappeared down the unpaved road. Conner shot at the tires but missed.
Now she had her sights set on the trailer. Emma went around the tree she’d used for cover and began running toward the doorway. Her body was tense and she was keenly aware of everything around her—sights, sounds, smells—anything that might present a problem. But there was nothing but the natural sounds of the swampy land.
The door was off the hinges, and she reached out and shoved it aside. “Amelia!”
“Mmmmmmmmm!”
Following the sound, Emma found her sister in a back room that had been set up as an office. She was tied to a plastic chair and had duct tape over her mouth and around her wrists. Tears streamed down her dirty cheeks. Emma gave her a hug and whispered, “It’s all over now.”
“Back off,” Conner said as he entered the cabin.
Emma turned and met his gaze. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t touch anything.” Then he turned his attention to Amelia. “I know this is horrible but I need you to hang on for just a minute while I get some evidence collection bags. There could be DNA or fingerprints on that duct tape and we’ll need that when we bring your kidnapper to trial.”
Amelia hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded.
“Stay with her,” he told Emma. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’ve got to call for an ambulance.”
It was only after he’d said that that Emma really looked at her sister. There wa
s dried blood in her hair, and large bruises on her calves seemed to indicate she’d been hit with some sort of pole-like object more than once. Her bare feet were also bloodied. Emma felt instantly sick to her stomach. Amelia had been tortured, but why?
She had to wait nearly five minutes to begin peppering her sister with questions. Conner carefully sliced away the duct tape and placed it in clear evidence bags.
“Are you okay?” Emma asked.
“No,” Amelia answered on a gulp of air. “They hit me with a tire iron. My head, my legs and the soles of my feet.”
Emma asked, “Do you know why?”
Amelia met her gaze. “You.”
“Me?”
“I got a call at the airport telling me you’d been taken and that I could save you if I followed the instructions of a man in a black Crown Victoria.”
“You didn’t think to call me to check out the story?”
“I was worried,” Amelia insisted. “I thought maybe he knew that…” Her words trailed off as she looked over at Conner.
“He knows,” Emma said. “I told him.”
Amelia’s eyes grew wide.
“Don’t worry. He won’t tell anyone.”
“Brody?” Amelia asked about her fiancé.
“I played it low key. He’s worried, but I didn’t tell him you were actually kidnapped.”
“How am I going to explain this to him?”
Conner half-coughed. “The truth will work.”
“You don’t know his family. They’re very conservative.”
“So what. We didn’t do anything wrong,” Emma argued.
“Um,” Conner began. “Can you walk me through what happened?”
“I was at the airport and I got a call. The caller said he had Emma and if I ever wanted to see her again, I’d meet a man driving a black Crown Victoria who’d be pulling up any second.”
“You should have called me before you got into that car,” Emma said.
“I was panicked,” Amelia returned tersely. “So, I get in and he drives off and brings me here.”
“Describe him,” Conner said.
Amelia shook her head. “I can only tell you he was about six feet tall. Maybe one hundred eighty pounds. Very muscular.”
“What did he look like?” Emma pressed.
“He always had on a ski mask,” Amelia explained. “All I know is he had blue eyes.”
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