by Terri Reed
He considered holding her suitcase hostage. Instead, he helped her out to the curb, where a black town car sat waiting.
The driver jumped out and came around to take the suitcase and stashed it in the trunk.
Carter wanted make sure the guy was legit. “Let me see your license and registration.”
The driver paused with confusion on his face. “Excuse me?”
He heard Rachelle give a little sigh. He didn’t care. She was going to be safe no matter what it took.
“Carter.” She put a hand on his arm and allowed the driver to slip back into his seat.
He faced Rachelle. A desperate sensation curled through him. She let go of him to put her hand on the rear passenger door handle.
He stopped the door from closing. “Rachelle, this is crazy. Tell me you aren’t going back to your apartment.”
She gave him a droll look. “Of course not.”
“Are you going home to Georgia?”
Letting out a beleaguered sigh, she shook her head. “No. I’ll be at The Elms. It has a twenty-four-hour concierge, state-of-the-art security and I have a room high up.”
“I should go with you,” he said.
“You have no shoes on.”
“Give me five minutes to put some on.”
She tugged on the door. “Carter, just please let go.”
He didn’t want to let go. Deep inside he never wanted to let her go. And the realization nearly took him to his knees.
“Call me when you get there,” he insisted. “And check in frequently.”
“I will. Thank you for all you’ve done. Keep Ellie safe.”
“Of course.” His stomach clenched. He wanted to reach out and cup her cheek, to smooth away the worry from her brow. His kept his hands at his sides. “Be careful.”
“Of course.” She gave him the smile she used on him when she was convincing him she knew what she was doing, or her boss when trying to get the assignment she wanted. Carter realized the truth behind her smile: false bravado. Was she trying to convince the world, or herself?
Yet here she was, making the brave choices anyway.
And he had no option but to let her. He couldn’t compel her to stay. He had no say in her life. Short of begging...
“Please reconsider. We can put you in a safe house somewhere else. I can’t protect you if you run away.”
“I’m not running away. Don’t you understand?” Her voice rose. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to your family because of me. If you can arrange a safe house then I’ll go there but until then—” Her lips firmed and steel entered her eyes. She tugged on the door again.
He released the handle and she shut the door. The car rolled away, disappearing around the corner.
Would he see her again?
And his heart ached with the knowledge that he was well on his way to unwittingly falling for Rachelle.
Guilt swamped Carter and he lifted his eyes heavenward. “Lord, I don’t understand. How can I allow her into my heart?”
He never understood how it could still beat inside his chest since the day Helen died. He’d been living for Ellie and Ellie alone. Now there was somebody else he wanted in his life. But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t dishonor the woman who had given birth to his daughter.
He turned to head back into the house and found his father standing on the porch. “You let her go.”
The accusation was like a slap. “I had no choice. I couldn’t hold her hostage.”
“Do you know where she’s going?” Alex asked.
“Yes. The Elms.”
“On the Upper East Side? I know the place. It’s in a good neighborhood.”
“But she’s alone and unprotected. I have to arrange for a safe house.” He swiped a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’ll call the hotel security and make sure they are aware she’s in danger.”
“Both are good ideas,” his dad said. “But more importantly, did you tell her how you feel?”
“How I feel?” Carter moved past his father toward the staircase. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Alex grabbed him by the arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Don’t try to deny it. I know you too well. You love that young lady. But you’re just too bullheaded to face the truth.”
“I am not in love with Rachelle. I can’t do that to Ellie. I can’t betray Helen.” He needed to build up the walls around his heart once again. To protect himself from pain.
Alex put his hand on Carter’s shoulder and turned him so they were face-to-face. The porch light shone on his dad’s face, revealing the compassion in his expression. “Son, Helen would want you to be happy. She would want Ellie to be happy. Rachelle makes you both happy.”
Carter shook his head in a futile attempt to protest what his heart already knew. Ellie loved Rachelle, and he could if he allowed himself to. “But there’s no future for me with Rachelle. There just can’t be. I’m not ready to let her or anyone else in, Dad. What if something happens to her?” His voice cracked, and he jerked out of his father’s grasp. He ran for the staircase leading to his apartment as if he could outrun the truth of his fears.
“Love is worth the risk,” he heard his father say. “Excuses will only leave you lonely.”
* * *
The next day Carter’s stomach hurt, and acrid worry chomped through him as he sat at his desk. Rachelle had called when she’d reached the hotel and had given him her room number as promised. He expected her to check in this morning but so far hadn’t heard from her, which caused his blood pressure to rise with every passing second.
Last night, he’d talked to the hotel security and they seemed competent. Still, he didn’t like the idea of her alone and vulnerable even for a short time.
He’d spent the past hour arranging for a safe house, which was taking longer than he’d expected, much to his frustration. Jumping through red tape was like eating shards of glass. Nothing was within his control and he hated that he couldn’t speed up the process.
From his office doorway, Noah called out, “Miles Landau has been spotted. Everyone is gathered in the conference room.”
Carter’s heart rate tripled. Finally, if they could get Landau, Rachelle would be out of danger.
Carter rushed to the conference room and squeezed in between Tony and Reed.
“We’ve had Miles Landau under surveillance,” Noah said to the group. “Today he was seen entering the warehouse in Flushing. I just now received word that a detective from the Brooklyn precinct leaned on one of his confidential informants and discovered a way into Landau’s crew. The CI’s cousin or something. He says Miles has been ranting and raving about a reporter.”
Carter’s heart froze for a moment, then pounded in big painful beats. The property he’d purchased after he’d served his sentence from the first time Jordan had sent him to prison. Clearly he’d resumed his illegal activities, but he has mostly been obsessing over some reporter...
“He has to be talking about Rachelle.” She obviously hadn’t given up on doing her own investigating into Miles while at the Elms. “We have to pick him up before he finds her.”
“We will,” Noah told him. “Unfortunately, he sent thugs out to take care of the problem.”
Carter slammed his hand on the conference room table. “How do they know how to find her?”
“I have no idea,” Noah told him. “We’ll bring the whole weight of the NYPD down on his head. But first we have to get to Rachelle before he and his minions do. I’ve sent local officers to her location.”
Carter was already heading out the door. “I’m heading there now.”
* * *
Rachelle sat at the desk in front of the window of her twenty-fourth-floor hotel room. She was safe so high up, and the view of the city in the distance was spectacular. There was a watchful doorman and video sec
urity cameras everywhere.
Though she missed the Jamesons something fierce, she’d made the right decision. Now there was no chance Ellie could be hurt because of Rachelle.
This time in isolation had given Rachelle an opportunity to finish and turn in the two articles she’d been working on. Her boss had been very pleased with the story she’d done on the celebrity ball fund-raiser for autism. And for her article about the police dog field trials, she couldn’t help but highlight Carter and Frosty a bit more than she did any of the other dog and officer teams. They were local heroes and she wanted to make sure everyone knew it.
With both of the stories in the can, she turned her mind back to Miles Landau. She looked at the information on her laptop computer screen. She had found more information on Miles’s company. MiLand, Inc. held stock in a trucking company. One that supplied heavy hauling trucks like the one that had tried to crush them on the Queensboro bridge.
Tapping her fingers on the desktop, Rachelle wondered aloud, “What are you up to, Miles Landau? What do a warehouse in Flushing, a boat and a trucking company have to do with Chief Jordan Jameson’s murder?”
The hotel’s desk phone rang and she froze. No one would call her through the hotel’s system. She checked her cell phone on the charger. Three missed calls from Carter. She’d left the ringer off.
She snatched up the receiver and said, “Hello?”
“Why aren’t you answering your cell phone?” Carter’s terse words were accompanied by the sound of a siren.
“Sorry. The battery died this morning. And I forgot to turn the ringer back on. I turn it off at night when I go to bed.” Dread gripped her in a tight vise. “Did something happen? Ellie?”
“Ellie’s fine. However, Miles Landau knows where you are. We have to get you to safety. I’m on my way to you now. Almost there. But local officers will be arriving shortly.”
Her stomach dropped with trepidation. She stood and paced. “How did he find me?”
“I don’t know. What have you been doing that would draw his attention?”
A pang of dismay made her wince. “I’ve been searching through more public records.” She removed the thumb drive she’d used to back up her work from the laptop and shut the device down. “He owns stock in a trucking company that serves the whole Eastern Seaboard.”
“You know how dangerous he is. Why do you insist on pursuing your own investigation?”
She could feel the reprimand through the phone line. “You can’t tell a zebra to change its stripes,” she told him. “I’m a reporter and I am going to find out why Miles Landau wants me dead and how he’s connected to your brother’s murder.”
She thought about the phone call she’d made earlier. Better to come clean and face his wrath over the phone rather than in person. “So I—uh—called the trucking company Miles has stock in posing as a potential client. I asked the woman who answered about their fees, potential routes and drivers.” She looked around the room for a place to hide the thumb drive.
“Is that all?” The exasperation in his tone reached through the line and tweaked her conscience.
Pulse thumping in her veins, she grimaced as she attempted to drag the desk chair beneath the air vent in the ceiling. The phone wouldn’t reach. She paused to say, “I asked if I could speak to Miles Landau.”
He groaned. “They could have called the number back and found out where you were staying.”
“I realize that now,” she said. “Hold on.” She put the receiver on the desk so she could put the chair under the air vent, then stepped up and slid the small, silver memory stick through the slats. She jumped off the chair and picked up the receiver.
“Rachelle!”
Carter’s frantic yelling pierced her ear. “Here. Sorry, sorry. I was hiding the backup of my computer.”
“There’s a street fair blocking off the road,” he told her. In the background she heard music and voices. “We’re on foot. Just minutes away. Haven’t the local officers arrived?”
“They haven’t,” she said, the edges of panic closing in on her. “I’ll put my shoes on and meet you downstairs.”
“No! Stay put. Wait for me.”
The sound of the hotel room doorknob rattling raised the fine hairs on her arms. Panic squeezed her chest. She could barely breathe. “Carter, someone’s at the door.”
FOURTEEN
“Don’t take any chances—hide!”
Taking Carter’s order to hide seriously, Rachelle dropped the receiver and ran toward the bathroom in hopes to lock herself inside long enough for Carter to reach her. She’d taken two steps when a loud thwack reverberated through the room and the door splintered, the locks popping open. Two men entered with guns drawn.
For a split second, she froze in shock. Then self-preservation kicked in and she darted for the bathroom.
Thug One vaulted forward and caught her with big, rough hands. “Oh no, you don’t.”
Thug Two grabbed her laptop from the desk. “Let’s go.”
Hoping to buy enough time for Carter to reach her, she resisted, kicking and screaming.
“You’re a little wildcat.” Thug One shoved her forward. She dropped to her hands and knees. If he wanted to take her, he was going to have to carry her. Instead, he raised his gun, aiming for her head.
“No!” Thug Two shouted. “The boss wants to take care of her himself.”
Thug One growled and reached out to yank her to her feet. He towered over her as he cursed at her and dragged her toward the door.
In an effort to continue to stall them, she said, “I need my shoes.”
A feral grin spread over Thug One’s face. “You don’t need shoes where you’re going.”
If he’d meant to ratchet up her fear, he’d succeeded.
With his gun pressed into her rib cage, Thug One forced her out of the room and down the hall to the elevator. Her bare toes sank deeply into the surprisingly plush hall carpet she hadn’t even noticed before now. She prayed the doors would open and Carter and Frosty would be there. Her heart plummeted when the car arrived empty. Thug One shoved her inside.
“Why?” she asked as the elevator descended.
Neither man answered.
“Miles Landau is your boss, right?” she pressed.
“Shut up,” Thug Two said.
“Did he or you kill Chief Jordan Jameson?”
The two men exchanged a confused look before Thug Two repeated, “Shut up.”
They reached the lobby and stepped out. Rachelle’s gaze sought Robert, the concierge, but he wasn’t at his post. Dread seized her and tightened her chest. “What did you do to Robert?” And where was the security team? The police officers?
Without getting an answer, Rachelle was shoved out the sliding doors of the hotel. Frantic, she searched the crowd. Half a block away she spied Carter and Frosty pushing their way through the crowded street as they raced toward her.
The squeal of tires jerked her attention to a black sedan as it halted at the corner.
Thug One jammed the gun hard into her ribs. “This way.”
Panicking, she twisted around, her gaze locking with Carter’s. “Carter!”
“Halt! Police!” came his cry.
He released Frosty, and the dog raced forward. Thug One raised his gun. Fearing for Frosty, Rachelle rammed her elbow into his side. He let out a grunt, then wrapped his arm around her body, using her as a shield as he hauled her backward toward the sedan that had pulled up, driven by a third man. Thug Two opened the back door and tossed her computer inside. “Move it! Let’s go.”
Frosty barked and lunged. Thug One jerked Rachelle around like a rag doll, keeping her in front of him. They reached the sedan and the thug climbed in, dragging her with him. Frosty instead latched on to the arm of the other bad guy, snarling viciously and tugging him away from the car as the en
gine revved and the sedan shot forward, taking her away from Carter, Frosty and any hope of rescue.
* * *
Chest heaving with panic and adrenaline, Carter aimed his drawn weapon at the man trying to shake Frosty off his arm.
“Out!” Carter commanded Frosty. The dog released his hold on the assailant and backed up, his tail high and his teeth bared.
“Don’t move,” he yelled at the man.
Carter watched helplessly as the sedan carrying Rachelle away roared down the street with its horn blaring, forcing pedestrians and other cars to get out of the way. The vehicle careened around the corner and disappeared.
With one hand still holding his gun, Carter used his radio to call in the license plate of the sedan that had just kidnapped Rachelle. The dog whined.
“I know, buddy.” They’d failed to protect Rachelle, and he could only imagine the horror of what would happen to her now.
Carter quickly handcuffed Rachelle’s attacker. “Where are they taking her?”
The man smirked. “Lawyer.”
“Tell me.” Carter shook the man.
Frosty growled a warning.
Gaze darting between Carter and Frosty, the man replied, “I said lawyer.”
Several police cruisers screeched to a halt in front of The Elms. Carter had no choice but to pass the guy off to another member of the NYPD, who read him his rights before putting him in the back of a cruiser just as Noah arrived along with several other members of the NYC K-9 Command Unit.
Carter told Noah about the sedan that had taken Rachelle away.
“We have to find her,” he told his brother.
Noah clamped a hand on his shoulder. “We will, Carter. I’ll put out a BOLO.”
“The warehouse,” Carter said. “He’ll take her there.”
“We’ve got the place locked up tight,” Noah told him. “Miles wasn’t there. Apparently he no longer deals drugs but weapons. We rounded up his men and they all lawyered up.”
Just like the other two criminals working for Miles.
“Where are the local officers who were supposed to be here?” Noah asked.