Diamonds and Spurs [The Callens 9] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Melody Snow Monroe

  Many questions assaulted her all at once. “How did you find me?”

  “We’re the FBI, ma’am. We have access to every database. No one can hide.” He looked over at her. “Next time, don’t use your maiden name.”

  Damn. If she’d known someone who made fake birth certificates and fake driver’s licenses, she would have used his services.

  “What do I need to do?”

  “Pack a bag and come with me. We’ll drive to Denver. You’ll be home by tomorrow night.”

  If it would end this nightmare, she’d go. She didn’t want to ever see the bastard again, but if she could help bring him down, she would. He’d hurt too many people. “I’ll be right back.”

  The agent placed his hands behind his back and straightened his shoulders as if he was used to standing for hours. As she headed down the hallway, footsteps sounded behind her. Vince followed her into Cam’s room, where she kept her clothes.

  He clasped her shoulders. “You want me to come with you?”

  She kissed him. “That’s sweet, but I’ll be safe with the dark protector out there. You heard him. I’ll be home by tomorrow night. Now that Sharon is in jail, I’m good.”

  Vince pulled out her suitcase, and she packed a few things. A court appearance required she wear something dressy. Unfortunately, she’d given away all of her suits. She had a nice pair of black slacks that would have to do. Once she had her overnight gear packed, Vince carried her suitcase out to the living room.

  He tugged her into an embrace. “Call me when you get there.”

  “I will. Give Cam a hug for me.”

  He cocked a brow. “I’ll tell him you said good-bye.”

  She smiled. “That’ll do.”

  The special agent had parked right outside the front door. Vince leaned against the doorframe, looking glum. As the FBI agent drove off, her heart sank.

  They pulled onto Millers Way and depression hit. She didn’t want to leave here, even for a day. “When did Craig get arrested?”

  The man accelerated. “I’m just a courier, ma’am. I wasn’t in on the investigation. I couldn’t say for sure.”

  She leaned her head back. She should be thrilled Craig was going to get his due, but only melancholy filled her. He’d been a nice man at first. She hadn’t wanted for anything, yet she had nothing. Life wasn’t about riches but rather good friends and fulfilled ambition.

  She debated calling Candy to see what was happening with the spa, but she bet her friend would be running around in a panic, trying to tie up loose ends. Mandy would probably see Candy at the trial.

  Unfortunately, once Craig was proven guilty, the spa would close, and so many good people would lose their jobs. Candy needed the income.

  Maybe she could convince her friend to move to Intrigue. She could picture it now. Candy would open a spa for the rich and famous. Sam mentioned there was a local spa, but she yet to visit it.

  The agent stopped once at a drive-through, but she wanted nothing. That might have been a mistake. Her stomach now grumbled.

  As they approached Denver, bittersweet memories filled her. She loved to ski, loved to ride, and enjoyed the art community in the city. Maybe after all this was over, she could find a way to visit and maybe even bring Charger back to Intrigue. That thought alone brought joy.

  She hadn’t given much thought where she’d stay. Most likely the FBI would put her up in a hotel near the courthouse. Then an idea surfaced. “Is there any way you can drop me off at one of my friend’s house? She can drive me to the courthouse tomorrow morning.”

  “No, ma’am.”

  No, ma’am. The man couldn’t get any sourer. Enough was enough. She extracted her cheap burn phone from her purse to call Candy. The driver lifted it from her fingers and placed it on the other side of him.

  Indignation ripped up her spine. “That’s my phone.” All of the recent events came tumbling down on her, and her patience left.

  “No calls. Think of it like being in a jury.”

  That made no sense. She folded her arms over her chest. Debating with this moron seemed to be useless. Once she made it to the hotel, there’d be a phone in the room. She’d contact Candy from here. Or maybe she should talk with Lisa. Her friend was a lawyer and could tell her what to expect in court tomorrow.

  They were on the interstate and passed the exit for downtown. “Where am I staying?”

  He pulled something out of his pocket, looked at it, and shoved it back in. “We’ll be there shortly.”

  When he exited as if going to her old home, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled. Her stomach churned and her pulse raced. “What’s going on?”

  “Just calm down.”

  The man turned into her subdivision. “Stop the car. I want to get out. I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going to testify.” Every alarm in her brain was blaring. Something was terribly wrong.

  She grabbed the handle. Jumping out of a moving car would probably kill her, but she’d feel better knowing she could escape.

  The agent kept his gaze straight ahead. She tugged on the handle, but it didn’t budge. Panic invaded every muscle.

  “There is no escape, Mrs. Clairbourne.”

  Oh, shit. Reality struck. “You’re not really with the FBI, are you?”

  He pulled down her street. “No, ma’am.”

  Think. Her mind refused to engage, and she reacted. Mandy jerked on the wheel, and the car swerved. Her goal was to run into another car or something hard to attract attention.

  The man elbowed her. Pain sliced through her. He jerked the car back on course and she slid to the other side of the seat, hitting her head on the window. Tears brimmed.

  The man jetted up her old drive and slammed on the brakes. He got out. She had to escape. This time when she tugged, the door opened. She jumped out and ran.

  “Stop or I’ll shoot.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Well, well. My wife returns.” Craig leaned over her, his eyes almost glassy.

  The fucking bodyguard was in the corner with the same gun pointed at her. “What do you want?”

  His chin tucked under. “Is that any way to greet me? You’ve been gone so long. I’ve missed you, honey.”

  He was delusional. “We’re divorced, or don’t you remember?”

  The slap came out of nowhere. The blow caused her head to twist, and an ache the size of Colorado crippled her. Her eyes watered.

  “Would you like a drink?”

  He’d probably lace it with another sedative. At the moment, being out cold would be preferable to being in the same room with the insane man.

  “Yes. Thank you.”

  Her whispered response seemed to calm him. This time he didn’t use the best crystal. He opened a new bottle, poured her a glass, and handed it to her. She gulped down the contents.

  “Easy there.”

  “How did you find me?” The answer to that question might give her a lot of insight.

  The fake FBI man claimed to have access to databases. Craig did not.

  “Someone found a photo of you with a bunch of photographers on their Facebook page.”

  Crap. Rana’s photo.

  Craig removed the glass from her hand and refilled it. This time she wouldn’t be so quick to drink. Keeping her wits was a must.

  “Have you actually been arrested for fraud?”

  His eyes darkened, and his hands clutched his glass of scotch. “Yes. Did you have anything to do with some found e-mails?”

  Those were the ones Vince had turned over to the real FBI office. Did he know they came from her? “No. I’ve been in Wyoming the whole time.” Her heart pushed against her ribcage.

  Surely, he could detect the lie. On the other hand, Craig never paid enough attention to notice anything other than her appearance.

  He dragged over a dining room chair and placed it a foot in front of her. He straddled the seat backward. She hadn’t seen him sit like that in years. Perhaps he was trying to appear harmless. />
  “I want you to consider not testifying against me. After all, five years of marriage must be worth something.” Each word came out slow and even as if he was using all of his control not to hit her again.

  Her cheek throbbed, but her stomach churned more. She weighed her answer. “I have nothing to tell the court. What do I know? You kept me in the dark.”

  His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Precisely.” He stood and nodded to the bodyguard.

  The man stalked toward her, removed the glass in her hand, and jerked her to a stand. His bruising fingers dug painfully into her arm. “What are you doing?” She jerked a glance at Craig.

  “Making sure you keep your promise.”

  The prick to the back of her arm shot fire into her veins. Seconds later, her eyes rolled up in her head.

  * * * *

  A knifelike pain shot into her eye and jackhammers pummeled the back of Mandy’s head. Heat stifled her. Taking a deep breath made her chest hurt. Christ. She rolled to her side and tried to sit up, but her hands were tied together, preventing much movement. Using her fingers, she followed the rope to her bound ankles.

  “You bastard.” After further investigation, she found the rope was attached to a pole.

  The basement was encased in near darkness. Had it not been for the lit streetlight in front of house, she’d have been blind. Craig had her drugged for a reason. If she believed him, he wanted her out of the way while he had his hearing—if there was a hearing. She had no reason to believe anything she’d been told though. The FBI man was a fake, and Craig seemed to have lost touch with reality.

  Her mouth was sand-dry and she needed to pee. The basement floor was hard cement. Her ass and hip hurt. Mandy scooted to the pole. Sitting up would help her think. Her eyes began to adjust to the darkness, and faint light bounced off her old white washing machine Craig had promised to give to charity.

  There had to be a way to get out. No one used the basement except for storage. Their maid never came down here. Vince and Cam wouldn’t miss her until tomorrow when she didn’t show up. Damn.

  If she thought it would do any good, she’d scream. Most likely, Craig would send down the fake agent and he’d drug her again. She closed her eyes and pictured the basement in the daytime. There had to be something she could reach to cut these ropes. He would have to use hemp instead of smooth cotton. It sliced her skin with each change in position.

  For a second she allowed herself to remember the nice velvet ropes the men had used before they fucked her silly. Her heart ached to think of not seeing them again. Her throat clogged and she swallowed. Self-pity wouldn’t get her out of there.

  Aha.

  The rope had to have an end somewhere. If she could reach it, she might be able to untie herself. There were two exits out of the basement. One was through a slanted double door at the top of three steps. Craig kept it bolted from the inside. Unless she had a key, that exit wouldn’t work.

  There was a set of stairs that led to the kitchen, but most likely he’d have locked that door, too. The basement had two windows a foot from the ceiling. If she had something to stand on, she might be able to break the glass and climb out.

  All of her plans for escape were based on her getting loose. Once more she fidgeted with the rope, trying to understand the configuration. After an hour, she discovered the end of the rope was tied about five feet off the floor. Unless, she suddenly became the world’s greatest contortionist, she’d never reach the end. Her wrists and ankles both sat close to the floor.

  Mandy slumped down. For the next few hours, she analyzed and discarded a dozen options. In the end, she decided the only way was to be the best actress she could. After all, she’d fooled Craig for months. If she didn’t vomit first, perhaps she could convince him she wanted to come home and be his wife again.

  * * * *

  Cam tossed his cell on the coffee table. “Still no answer. I don’t like it.”

  Vince jumped up and disappeared into the kitchen. The refrigerator opened and Vince returned with another beer. Nine in the morning was too early even for Vince to drink, but perhaps he needed something to calm him.

  Vince waved the bottle. “We need to go to Denver.”

  Cam had thought of that, but there were too many obstacles. “Call your FBI man, Mitch Henley. He’ll know if there was a hearing scheduled for Clairbourne yesterday. Maybe the trial was delayed and Mandy had to stay over another day.”

  “Shit. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  Vince jogged toward his bedroom. He returned a second later with a piece of paper. He called the FBI office. “This is Vince Callen.” Vince explained to Henley about the special agent who came by for Mandy. “Can’t you get a warrant or something? Thank you.”

  Vince disconnected and shook his head. “The guy who came here? A fake. Fuck me. I should have called in his credentials.”

  “You said his badge looked legit. You had no reason to call.”

  “If you’d have been here, you might have questioned the subpoena.”

  “Maybe.” If he’d been here, he would have followed her in his car. “What’s done is done.”

  “We need to go and pound on that bastard’s door. We know he’s responsible.”

  He liked that Vince was so proactive. “What did Henley say about the warrant?”

  “It could take a few days. He’s not sure he has enough evidence.”

  As much as he wanted to rant, Henley might be right. “It won’t do any good to put blame on the FBI. Let me toss a few things in a case and we can go.”

  “Bring some extra things for Mandy. No telling what shape she’s in.”

  His gut soured. Hell, it felt like he had a hundred ulcers all rebelling at the same time.

  In minutes, they were out the door. Vince drove. It wasn’t hard to find her address. ZabaSearch was a beautiful site.

  Vince could be a hothead. They needed to have a plan. “When we get there, you just going to barge in and demand to see Mandy?”

  Vince worked his jaw. “Not sure.”

  “Maybe we should enlist Candy’s help.” They could go to Indulgent Spa and tell her what happened. She might even have a spare key to the house.

  Vince looked over at him. “And have two women on the run?”

  He wasn’t thinking straight. “They’ll be expecting us to show up. Clairbourne can’t be that stupid. His goon was in our house. He has to think we were either hiding Mandy or protecting her.”

  “All the more reason to be careful. Maybe the neighbors saw something. Like a screaming woman being dragged against her will into her former house.”

  He doubted it, but they had to check out the property at any cost. Maybe the place was gated and had security cameras on every corner. A firsthand look was a must.

  Finding the home wasn’t hard. It was at the end of a cul-de-sac, which might make it more difficult to sneak around. All the homes were five thousand square feet and up. Lawns were manicured and expensive cars sat in the drives.

  Vince slapped the wheel. “That’s the FBI dude’s SUV in the drive.”

  More proof Mandy was inside. “We can’t just ring the doorbell and announce we’re here for her.”

  “Let’s park a few blocks away and enter via the woods in the back.”

  “How about we wait until it’s dark? I say we check out the spa and find Candy. She might be able to help.”

  “Worth a try.” Vince drove around the circle and headed out.

  Within ten minutes they were at the spa. “Didn’t you get Candy’s number when you went to the investor dinner?”

  Vince slowed. “Fuck me. My brain is trash. Yes.” He pulled out his phone and handed it to Cam. “Call her.”

  Candy answered. When he told her he was a friend of Vince’s, she told him to hang on. Fifteen seconds later she spoke. “You think Craig kidnapped Mandy?”

  “We’re on the way to the spa now. Are you there?”

  “No. The FBI shut it down. I’m at home.�
� She gave him her address.

  “We’ll be there in five.”

  He disconnected. When they arrived at her house, Candy was pacing.

  “That’s her.”

  They pulled in front. Vince got out and gave her a hug.

  Cam motioned to the car. “Let’s talk in here.” He wouldn’t put it past Craig to bug Candy’s house or her phone.

  She nodded and slipped in the back. “How can I help?”

  Cam twisted in his seat. “Can you tell us the layout of Craig’s house?”

  “Sure.” She mentioned the open concept, the fact the bedrooms were upstairs, how the basement door was off the kitchen, and the den had double doors that led to the lawn in back.

  “You don’t have a spare key by any chance, do you?”

  She shook her head. “You might look around the planters in front. People often keep a key outside.”

  “I know the Clairbourne’s are rich. Is their house alarmed?”

  “Yes and no. There is an alarm, but Craig often forgets to set it.”

  That didn’t help. “You worked with Craig. Is he the violent type?”

  Candy’s glance to the side told him all he needed to know. His nails dug into his palms.

  “He hit her. But only once.” She glanced up. “He owns a gun, though. That much I know.”

  “Shit.” Cam handed her his card. “Call me if you hear anything.”

  Candy grabbed his wrist. “Save her. Please?”

  She slipped out and disappeared inside.

  Vince put the car in drive. “Now what?”

  “We wait.”

  * * * *

  The sky was clear and the moon half lit. Vince and Cam hid in the marshy preserve behind the Clairbourne home. They’d brought some gear, the most important of which was an infrared scope.

  Cam nudged him. “See anything?”

  “Not yet.” It was a little past ten at night and mostly black behind the house. The front inside lights were blazing. He held up a hand. “There’s movement.”

  “I’m going to check it out.”

  During their interminable wait today, they’d purchased earbuds and communication devices, like the kind bodyguards used. When it came to saving Mandy, they weren’t going to leave anything to chance.