A beep from the security system interrupted her epiphany. She ran to check the monitor. Air swooshed out of her lungs at the sight of Luke’s Ram starting up Jake’s driveway. Saying a silent prayer of thanks, she raced to the front door and yanked it open. It took every ounce of her restraint not to rush into Luke’s arms as he climbed from his truck. Her eyes inspected every inch of him, settling on the bandage across his forehead. Did the cut hurt? Had he needed stitches? Guilt washed over her.
“Hey there. Got a cold brew for a thirsty guy?” Luke called.
“Told you so,” Sean muttered behind her.
She jabbed her elbow backward into his belly and savored his grunt of surprise.
When Luke reached the doorway, she couldn’t hold back any longer. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him hard.
“Um, I’ll get that beer for ya,” Sean said, chuckling as he walked away.
“Miss me?” Luke asked against her lips.
“No.”
He pulled back to study her. “No? Then why the big greeting?”
“I was scared for you, afraid something would go wrong.”
“Okay. I guess that’s as good as missing me.”
“It’s better, you jerk.” She planted her lips on his again.
This time he groaned and deepened the kiss while he held her tightly against him with his good arm.
“When you two are finished, we have work to do,” Jake said.
She whipped around, but he wasn’t there.
“The guy has lots of eyes and ears,” Luke whispered, grinning and shutting the door before wrapping his arm around her waist again. “And he’s right. There’s work to do.”
Right now, she didn’t care. Yes, it was her kidnapping mystery he was trying to solve, but what she wanted more than anything was to return to the guesthouse—which had started to feel oddly like home—and make love. For the rest of the day. And night. “Luke, I want…”
His smile faded, and he turned serious. His gorgeous blue eyes searched hers until she thought he was trying to see into her heart. Let him. I don’t care what he learns.
Sighing, he looked away and gave her a squeeze. “Me, too, but we’ll have to wait.”
She swallowed her disappointment like the strong, independent woman Sean said she was. “Yeah, sure.” But she leaned on Luke as he ushered her to the kitchen.
Sean was waiting with four cold Coronas. “I think a celebration is in order.”
“Can’t celebrate for long,” Jake said as he joined them. “The news wires have already picked up the story.” He accepted a beer and used a remote to turn on the TV mounted on the wall.
A reporter announced the breaking news that Ms. Elle Bradley of Washington, DC, had been kidnapped again, apparently by the same person, while in a rural area of San Diego County. He also indicated no details were available. Jake changed the channel, and the same vague report was repeated.
Elle could only stare as photographs of her with Richard at various high-society events flashed on the screen. Luke stiffened beside her.
“You’d think they could use a picture of me releasing the results of one of my award-winning investigations instead of this nonsense,” she muttered.
“They broadcast the same photos when you were kidnapped the first time,” Jake said.
“Then I wouldn’t be surprised if my mother had a hand in the selection. She worships all the meaningless society stuff and has albums full of pictures to prove it.” Familiar resentment flared and darkened her mood.
Sean snorted. “Okay, what’s next, bro? This is your show.”
Luke released her and swallowed a long swig of icy beer before answering. “We need to get Elle ready for a staged photo to text and—”
“I can get myself ready,” she stated with more of an edge than intended. She ignored Luke’s puzzled expression. “What look do you want?”
“Like you’ve been roughed up…just a bit. Messy hair. Smudged mascara. Smeared lipstick. Red mark on your cheek from a slap. No blood, though.”
“You sure? I could slit my wrists if you think it would be more effective.” Crap, where did that come from? What’s wrong with me?
Was she angry about the TV photos dredging up unpleasant memories of her mother and Richard, of her pampered lifestyle, of her superficial life that would never include Luke? Was she fed up with the violence? Was she tired of people getting hurt because of her? Or was she simply sick of it all? Her eyes stung, and she blinked away tears.
All three men gaped at her.
She squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and stared back.
Appearing confused and hurt by her outburst, Luke grimaced and refused to meet her gaze. “Thanks, but that won’t be necessary,” he replied brusquely and moved over to lean against the counter next to Sean.
She wanted to take back her ridiculous words. But it was too late.
She waved off the Corona Sean held out to her. “I’ll go get ready in the guesthouse. Shouldn’t take more than ten minutes since blood isn’t required.”
* * *
“What the hell was that about?” Luke asked.
Sean clapped him on the back. “Elle was real worried about you. And the violence is probably getting to her. She’s not used to it. Remember how she reacted when I hit you earlier?”
“Yeah.” He frowned and gingerly touched the bandage on his forehead. “You didn’t have to enjoy it so much.”
Stone laughed. “While Elle’s getting ready, let’s decide on the text we…you want to use.” He pulled a sheet of paper and the kidnapper’s phone out of his pocket before he sat down at the kitchen table. The others joined him. He smoothed out the creases in the paper and pushed it to the center for all to see. “In the left column are examples of Whitaker’s and his boss’s texts. Once I reviewed them, I could see the system was simple. On the right, I’ve listed…my suggestions.”
Luke slanted a glance at Sean, who arched his eyebrows. Stone seemed to be acknowledging Luke’s lead role in the sting, probably totally uncharacteristic for the guy.
Sitting a little taller, Luke scanned the left column first. “Looks like Whitaker warned his boss each time by texting how long before he was going to call. If it was acceptable, the boss responded with just a K within a few minutes. If not, Whitaker received a text with a different time or no response at all. Right, Stone?”
“That’s how I interpreted it.”
“Makes sense. Can’t take a call from your hired kidnapper in the middle of a meeting,” Sean quipped.
“Let’s keep this as simple as possible, too. We’ll use this one and add Elle’s picture,” Luke said, pointing to the first text in the right-hand column. He leaned back in the chair. “Obviously, we can’t imitate Whitaker’s voice and actually talk to his boss. But the second communication must have more impact than just another text, so we’ll have Elle talk.”
“Seriously? You think she can handle it?” Stone asked, scowling. “After…you know…”
“Yeah, I do. Hell, she escaped from her kidnapper when she was naked. That took a lot of guts.”
“True, but this is different. What do you want her to say?”
“How about ‘Help, he’s going to kill me this time’?”
Three heads whipped around.
Elle stood at the patio door. Her silky brown hair was tangled and messy, her T-shirt torn. Mascara was smudged and streaked under her eyes. Her left cheek was bright pink, her lipstick smeared. Her beautiful hazel eyes were watery and red-rimmed. Luke suspected the latter wasn’t faked.
“Let’s do this,” she said too loudly. She closed the door and strolled across the room. “Where do you want me?”
“Standing in front of a completely blank wall,” Luke explained. “Got a spot like that, Stone?”
“In the hallway, next to the bathroom.”
Elle marched out the kitchen door, leaving the men to follow.
Luke’s shoulders sagged. Maybe Sean was right about the violence, but Ell
e also seemed angry. At him? At the situation? At the kidnapper’s boss? What could he do to make this easier for her? Unfortunately, no good ideas came to mind. Feeling like shit, he grabbed Whitaker’s phone and hurried down the hallway.
She was already in position, slouching against the wall as though exhausted. “I guess I shouldn’t smile.”
No one responded.
Luke snapped the picture, and the other two men peered over his shoulders at the result. Elle refused to look.
“It’s kinda…grainy,” Sean complained.
“It’s a burner phone. We’re lucky it even has a camera,” Luke said.
He brought up the contact number and then typed 15m? just like the kidnapper had done numerous times. With a mixture of dread and anticipation, he hit send. When he glanced up, everyone’s expressions mirrored the same emotions.
Now, the waiting began.
The tension was so thick that the ring of Luke’s own cell phone startled everybody. Sean gave a nervous chuckle, and Elle stomped off to the kitchen.
Luke dug the phone from his pocket. Holmes. Shit. Reluctantly, he put the cell to his ear; but before he could say a word, the FBI agent attacked.
“What the hell happened, Deputy Johnson?” Holmes sounded like he wanted to come through the phone and strangle him.
“Good evening to you, too, Special Agent Holmes.”
“Skip the bullshit. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in?”
“More than I think and less than you hope.”
“Huh? Never mind. How did that asshole get his hands on Ms. Bradley again?”
“I just spent hours answering those kinds of questions for the Sheriff’s Department. I suggest you get a copy of my interrogation from them.”
“I already tried. Lieutenant Tanner wasn’t cooperative.”
“Wonder how he got that attitude.”
“Cut the crap, Johnson. The woman is in serious danger. How the hell did it happen?”
“Hey, I admit this is all my fault. I let my guard down, and the bastard got the jump on me. By the time I came to, he was gone and so was she.”
“You let your guard down? That doesn’t sound like you.”
“You don’t know me.”
Holmes grunted. “But I saw the way you looked at her.”
Luke’s gut twisted. “What? When?”
“Well, the first time was at the hospital when you were ready to take down a federal agent to protect her. And again yesterday, when you brought her to the rendezvous with Carmichael.”
He tensed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Holmes. Besides, weren’t you asleep on the job last night?”
“You dropping her off and signaling Carmichael that you’d be watching him were the last things I saw before… Damn. That asshole’s gonna pay big-time for drugging me.” A long silence followed.
“Holmes, you still there?”
“Yeah. The more I think about this, the more it doesn’t smell right. I swear you would’ve sacrificed yourself to stop the kidnapper from taking her.”
Luke gulped. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m alive and well, so you’re wrong.”
The agent barked a laugh. “Johnson, you’re so full of shit. I don’t believe a word of your story. Tell me what’s really happening.”
“Those sleeping pills must still be messin’ with your brain. Take another nap.” Luke disconnected. Well, hell. Holmes knows something’s up. Who would the agent tell and what would he do about it? A loose cannon was a liability they couldn’t afford.
“What’s going on with your favorite FBI agent?” Sean asked.
“He’s pissed and suspicious. Doesn’t think I would’ve…lost Elle.”
Stone shrugged. “I agree with Holmes. Smart man.”
Luke narrowed his eyes. “It wasn’t real, so it doesn’t matter.” At least, he hoped it didn’t.
In his other hand, the kidnapper’s phone buzzed. He glanced nervously at Sean and Stone before checking the screen.
All it said was K.
Chapter 32
Game on,” Luke said as he marched into the kitchen with Sean and Jake trailing behind him.
Elle’s stomach churned with dread. Her next role was crucial to convince Whitaker’s boss that his minion had kidnapped her again. And, more importantly, the person had to believe she was in mortal danger this time. Could she pull it off?
“We’ve only got ten more minutes. Are you up for this, Elle?” Luke asked.
“Of course,” she said with more confidence than she felt. “Have we agreed on what I’m going to say?”
“Your suggestion sounded good to me. Better idea, anyone?”
Sean and Jake shook their heads. Neither would meet her gaze, and both looked worried as hell.
“Okay. Just say it naturally, even if it’s a little different. It can’t sound rehearsed. Whoever the boss is, you have to convince him that his kidnapper really has you scared to death,” Luke coached her.
“Fine. I got it. Now what?”
“We wait…nine minutes.”
She needed some space, so she forced her suddenly rubbery legs to carry her into the family room. Hopefully, the beautiful view of the pool and the hillsides beyond would calm her nerves because her insides were on fire.
From behind, Luke wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head. “If there was any other way, I wouldn’t ask you to do this, babe. You understand, right?”
She rested against his warm, muscular chest. “Sure.”
“Are you pissed at me about something else?”
“No. Why?”
“You’re angry. Did I upset you?”
She sighed. “Not you, Luke. All of it. I want my life back.”
His arms stiffened. Then he let go of her and stepped back. “I know. I’ll do my best to get your life back to normal ASAP.” He turned and walked away.
She watched him disappear into the kitchen. Had he misinterpreted what she’d meant? She shook her head to clear it. Now was not the time to get distracted by what ifs and maybes.
Blinking back tears and grappling with her conflicted emotions, she returned to staring outside. She resisted the urge to count off the seconds until she had to perform.
All too soon, the three men walked into the room.
“It’s time, Elle. You should sit down,” Luke said calmly.
She nodded and followed him to the couch. Sean dropped into a chair, and Jake leaned against the wall a little farther away.
“Ready?” Luke asked.
“Yes.” She tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry.
Luke placed a warm hand on her arm as he dialed the kidnapper’s cell. He activated the speakerphone, and the whole room listened.
When the call was answered, the person didn’t speak.
Luke nodded at Elle.
“Help me,” she pleaded, her voice raspy. “Please help me. He’s going to kill me this—” She stopped abruptly when she heard a faint sound at the other end.
Her heart pounded faster. Her throat tightened, and she couldn’t breathe. Time stood still as she listened.
Luke motioned for her to continue.
She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was an anguished cry.
* * *
Luke immediately disconnected, tossed the phone on the coffee table, and pulled Elle into his arms. He didn’t understand what had happened, but she sobbed uncontrollably. He stroked her hair and whispered, “It’s okay, babe. You did great. Real natural.”
“It’s him,” she managed between sobs. “It’s him.”
“Him who?” he asked, but she didn’t answer.
Finally, she lifted her head and looked into his eyes. “My father. Whitaker’s boss is my own father.”
Luke frowned. “How do you know? He didn’t say anything.”
“The clock. I heard my great-grandfather’s clock in the background. It’s really loud; you can hear the chimes all over the house. Father wa
s probably in his study with the door closed, but I still heard it.”
“Holy shit,” Sean hissed.
Stone slammed his fist into the wall.
“I-I can’t believe it. Why…how…could he do this to me?”
“I don’t know, babe.” Luke signaled the other two men to leave the room. As he wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb, he searched for what to say and then sighed. “Elle, are you sure you want to…finish this? It could mean your father goes to jail. For years.”
The pain in her eyes broke his heart. He could only imagine the disappointment, the agony, the outrage she was feeling. A father was supposed to protect his children at all costs. Harlan Bradley had violated the most important parental responsibility. How would Elle cope with such a devastating betrayal?
She exhaled emphatically and sat up straight. Sniffling, she brushed the hair back from her face. “Todd Whitaker—as awful as he was—died because of what my father did. I can’t turn away and pretend nothing happened.”
“We can stop the sting and let the FBI figure this out. I know they will eventually.”
“I wish I could just walk away and leave it to others to clean up the mess Father caused. But that’s not me, Luke. I finish what I start. And, in a way, this is part of my BLM investigation. My father may or may not be the only person behind my kidnapping, but lots of people are involved in the Alpha and Omega Mining deal. If the deal is crooked, those responsible need to be exposed.”
“Are you sure you’ll be okay with your dad going to prison?”
“I love my father. Someday, I might even be able to forgive him. When things get rough, I’ll just remember the terror I felt day after day, lying naked on the bed, as Whitaker jerked off beside me. If my father was willing to put me through that torture, I can handle putting him in jail.”
Chapter 33
Saturday night, approximately forty-eight hours after Elle’s fateful phone call, Jake Stone surveyed an ostentatiously ornate room inside the Vanderbilts’ opulent mansion in Washington, DC. The enormous space was crowded with people “dressed to kill.” Inwardly, he cringed at the repugnant old joke from his CIA days when he attended similar functions in foreign embassies to stalk his prey. Tonight, he was definitely stalking, but he hoped there would be no killing.
Only Obsession (Rogue Security Book 3) Page 26