His part of the conversation included patches of silence interspersed with words of encouragement. He repeated the message that was sent in the package, and then he said, “Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.” At the conclusion of the call, he stowed the phone in his pocket. “Everyone is settled. Olivia, Sean’s aide, has him under control, and Beth promised to rest.” He bowed his head. “Thank You, Lord, for their safe travels.”
When he didn’t raise his head, Lela stole a quick peek at him. Eyes closed, worry lines dissolved, at peace. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d experienced such serenity. Concentrating on the road, she tried to block Jay’s prayer out of her mind. Did he really believe God had protected his sister and her family?
A half dozen miles flew by before Jay opened his eyes.
Lela had to know. “Who is Beth casting her anxiety on?”
He chuckled. “I quoted from the Bible. First Peter chapter five, verse seven. It’s Beth’s favorite Scripture. I reminded her of the words.”
Bombarded by warring thoughts, Lela jerked when her phone rang. Caller ID named Bowen Bodine. She activated the hands-free device. “Hey, boss.”
“Where are you?”
“Five miles from the border.” A quick check of the trip gauge verified her estimate.
“Good. I sent agents Manny Hernandez and Pamela Young to the Davenports’ home. I want at least one IRO operative there at all times until we resolve this situation. Fifteen minutes ago, they reported that Beth received another video. Chuck is in San Diego—they had him hold a copy of today’s newspaper—and his captors let him talk this time.”
Shooting a quick peek at Jay, she asked, “How’d they get him across the border?”
Jay spluttered out a spray of soda. “Chuck?”
She nodded and handed him a box of tissues.
Bowen continued. “We don’t know.”
“Any ransom demand?”
“No.”
“Then it’s personal, as we surmised,” Lela said.
“Most likely. You need to get here ASAP. Manny said Chuck’s message included a peculiar command to Sean. See if you and Jay can figure it out.”
“Will do. One more thing, does Manny have a weapon for me?”
“Yes. I told him to take an extra pistol. I knew you’d want to be armed.”
Lela ended the call and merged into one of the lines of cars at the border. They inched forward, a breeze from the open windows stirring the hot, dry, August air through the cab. Ever on duty, she studied the vehicles around her, noting details, checking out drivers. A pickup four cars ahead, two lanes over, caught her eye. Old, green.
The hairs on her neck stood to attention like boot camp recruits. She gorilla-gripped the steering wheel. Her line of vehicles moved three yards at most. She could almost see the driver in the truck.
Jay noted her interest. “What’s going on?”
Without taking her hands off the wheel or gaze off the vehicle, she pointed with her chin. “I saw a green pickup like that at the ranch.” She rocked her body back and forth as if that would make the cars ahead of her move.
They did. She stopped a fraction of an inch from the sedan in front of her and glared at the driver of the pickup. “Turn this way. Come on, hombre. Turn.”
He must have heard her plea. The driver stuck his head out his window and pointed to the border guards.
“It’s Javier.”
13
Loud voices outside his room alerted Chuck to company. Still woozy from the concoction he’d been forced to swallow earlier, he squirmed on the bed.
A bolt grated in its slot. The door swung open.
Bound wrists and ankles thwarted his attempt to sit.
“Boss wants to see you.” Victor untied the ropes while Harry stood guard at the door.
The men dragged Chuck between them through a connecting bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen where they shoved him into a chair at the small, round table.
Odors of stale coffee and cigarette ash filled the room.
His ankle throbbed, but he couldn’t reach it. Instead, Chuck rubbed the chafe marks on his wrists and scanned the room. Blindfolded when brought in that morning, he now inventoried escape options. Not the barred window over the sink. The only viable exit was a half open door through which he spied a scrubby yard. A carving knife collection on the counter might prove useful. If he—
Harry slapped the back of Chuck’s head. “Don’t even think about using them.” He snatched up the knives and left the kitchen.
The door burst open and Walter Ferguson stormed inside from the backyard. Chuck’s breath caught in his throat. How could his old friend be involved in a kidnapping? The grim line of the man’s mouth indicated something amiss in his world. Not a good sign.
“Hey, boss, where are Javier and Stoner?” Victor asked, leaning against the counter.
“They’re stuck in border traffic. Should be here in thirty, forty minutes.” Walter straddled a chair across the table from Chuck. “Mr. Davenport, I recently had a long conversation with my boss. Uh, he’s not too happy with your lack of cooperation.”
Mr. Davenport? Their previous working relationship meant nothing.
Before Chuck could respond, Walter pounded the table. “You said you’d cooperate once your family was safe at home. You demanded to speak to your kids. Your family is here in San Diego, and we let you talk on the last video, but so far—”
“I am cooperating.” More like biding my time.
Heavy steps announced Harry’s return to the kitchen. He hovered over Chuck, causing his skin to crawl.
“But you’ve given us nothing. So,” Walter jutted his chin toward the thugs. “I’ve been given permission to intensify our interrogation.”
Victor thrust a fist into his palm and grinned. “Nothing I’d like more.”
“When can we start?” Harry cracked his knuckles.
“Wait.” Chuck attempted to stand, but Harry pushed him down. “Please, I’ve told you already. I don’t have any records.” His swollen lips and aching jaw made it hard to form words. He eyeballed one tormentor, and then the another. “Come on, guys. Why are you doing this? Whatever your boss is paying you, I’ll double it. Who is he anyway? Did he also work for me? Victor, Walter, please. How many times do I have to apologize for firing you?”
Tapping the stained wooden table, Walter smirked. “I was reprimanded for being too easy on you. This is your last chance. If you don’t tell us what information you have, we’ll be forced to nab Sean. You’ll talk then.”
“No. Please don’t. You…you know about his behavioral issues. How difficult it is to handle him.” Chuck searched Walter’s face for an iota of sympathy. “Remember the time you attended the company picnic and Sean—”
“Don’t remind me.” Walter narrowed his eyes. All semblance of the friend Chuck had known vanished. “We have ways of making people behave.”
Knots formed in Chuck’s gut. He prodded his temples. What had they made him drink? His thoughts swirled in and out of reality. How long could he maintain the charade of ignorance? One thing he knew for sure, he’d tell them what they wanted to know before they laid a finger on his son. But in the meantime, he had to keep them guessing. Although he believed Walter’s threat, he prayed IRO operatives would decipher his coded message on the video, which in turn could lead to his rescue. Bone-weary, he lowered his head and braced himself for more abuse.
Instead, Walter said, “We’ve seen the photos on your cellphone, Chuckie, but I remember your obsessive tendencies to document everything.”
Right. But you won’t get your hands on my notes. Chuck pawed at Walter’s hands. “Please. Let me go.”
“Quit whining.” Walter snatched his hands away. “You are one useless piece of flesh.” His flint-hard voice thundered in Chuck’s ears.
He gave up trying to reason with the man.
Plink. Plink. Plink. Water dripped into the metal sink. The refrigerator hummed
. Harry’s cigarette breath wheezed. Time froze. Lightheaded and weak, Chuck sagged in the chair. Now what? He didn’t have long to wait.
Walter lunged forward, snatching the front of Chuck’s T-shirt. His punch landed square on Chuck’s jaw, sending him reeling backward to the floor.
Mercifully, darkness descended.
14
The green pickup edged forward and stopped at the checkpoint. Behind the wheel of Lela’s pickup, Jay’s gaze darted from the sedan in front to Lela on foot in the next lane where she cautiously sneaked behind vehicles to get closer to Javier. Jay pressed the gas pedal then braked.
Lela reached inside her vest and straightened. No gun in her holster. She’d left that with Smitty to return to their IRO contacts in Mexico along with all the other weapons and equipment they’d borrowed.
Jay’s phone beeped.
Not now. He checked the screen anyway. Kate. He hesitated. Staring at Lela and the green pickup, Jay tapped the ignore icon and slid the phone back into his pocket. A jingle seconds later indicated a voice mail.
The sedan in front stopped.
Jay jammed on the brakes.
With the aid of a cane, the elderly driver climbed out and raised the hood of his vehicle.
Lane dividers stood like sentries to the left and right. “Great. We’re stuck.” Jay turned off the ignition and watched Lela’s movements.
Border officials talked with Javier and his passenger and did a cursory inspection of the undercarriage and the truck bed.
Lela dashed up to a guard a short distance away, and careful to keep her back to the green truck, pointed to the vehicle. Her exaggerated arm movements indicated her frustration.
One of the officials with Javier held the leash of a German Shepherd and waved the pickup through.
Lela stomped her foot and planted her hands on her hips.
The guard shooed her away like an annoying fly.
Flinging her arms in the air, she marched back and yanked open the door to her truck.
Jay crawled over the center console and hid his grin by looking out the opposite window.
Lela slammed her door, grabbed the steering wheel, and growled a string of Spanish too fast for his comprehension. She scowled. “Sorry, but that…that man made me angry. You’d think male chauvinism wouldn’t be so prevalent in the twenty-first century.”
With the mirth deliberately wiped off his face, Jay turned. “What did he say?”
“He wouldn’t let me show him my credentials, let alone explain my concerns.” She pointed to the sedan in front. “How long has the car been stalled?” She withdrew her phone from her vest pocket. “I must call Bowen and give him Javier’s license plate number.”
“I’ll see if I can help this guy.” Jay opened his door, not certain Lela even heard him. Definitely one-track minded.
The driver of the sedan accepted Jay’s offer of assistance and explained the engine spluttered and died, and when he’d tried to restart it, nothing but a clicking sound.
“It might be your battery.” Sure enough, Jay spied a loose connection. “These cables can jog lose over time, especially if the battery is old. Do you have a wrench or pair of pliers?”
“Sure.” The man opened the trunk and produced both tools.
Jay tightened the connection. “Try it now.”
The man struggled in behind the wheel and turned the key. The engine roared to life. “I’ll see my mechanic as soon as I get home. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Jay closed the hood and handed the man his tools.
In Lela’s truck, he wiped his hands on a wad of tissues from the box on the console. Imaginary steam no longer hissed from Lela’s ears, but the reddish tinge to her face indicated her aggravation. Heeding his father’s advice to leave a simmering fire un-stoked unless he wanted full-fledged flames, Jay fastened his seat belt and held back his questions.
Their line of vehicles chugged forward.
Lela drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. “That guy told me to go home and play with my dolls.” She thumped the center of the wheel hard enough that Jay feared the airbag might deploy. Nonetheless, he kept silent. No way did he want her anger directed toward him.
“I understand we have no authority here, but you’d assume he’d want to help me catch a kidnapper.” Lela accelerated with a jerk then stomped on the brakes.
Jay lurched forward, and his seatbelt locked.
“Sorry.” She clasped her hands in her lap. “You witnessed the confrontation, yes?”
“Yeah.”
“I tried to stay out of Javier’s field of vison. Didn’t want to give him any reason to suspect I knew of him and the others. Did I succeed?”
“From my vantage point, I’d say that he was not aware of your beef with the guard.”
“Good.”
When they reached the checkpoint, the guard in question joined the others and ordered Jay and Lela out of the truck.
Jay observed her and held his breath. By her crimson hue, she was probably fuming. Don’t aggravate the situation.
The patrol dogs found nothing suspicious, and the officials allowed Lela to drive through.
By the time they neared the Davenport mansion in La Jolla, Lela’s temper had cooled. Intrigued by the petite fireball, Jay had attempted to hold a civilized conversation with her. He learned she grew up in Los Angeles, but the family had moved to San Diego before she’d started high school. She had two younger brothers, two younger sisters, and her parents had been happily married for thirty-one years. Almost all those details were provided in short answers. Since she didn’t volunteer any additional information, he shelved other questions for a more appropriate time. Including divulging the piece of evidence he’d secreted in his pocket.
Ilsa, the Davenports’ housekeeper, directed Jay and Lela to the sunroom overlooking the back gardens where Beth reclined on a white wicker chaise longue. She held out her arms. “Jay-Jay.” Swollen, red-rimmed eyes greeted him.
“Beth, honey.” He knelt beside her, one hand on her shoulder.
A faltering breath. “Do you know about the latest video? Chuck looks terrible, but at least he’s alive.”
“Yes, we know he gave Sean a message. How are the kids? How are you? Are the two IRO agents still here?”
Choosing a wicker armchair close to Beth, Lela sat.
Beth sighed and set her feet on the floor. “We’re doing better. The girls have been real troupers. Even Sean has settled back into his routine. Bless Olivia. What would I do without her?”
“And you, Bethy?”
“I shouldn’t have taken on so much right after my surgery. If I…” Her voice caught on a sob.
“Don’t go there.” Lela placed her hand on Beth’s forearm. “This was not your fault. If you hadn’t taken a family vacation, Chuck might have been kidnapped here or at his office. His abduction was meticulously planned.” She rose. “We need to see the video. Bowen wants our analysis.”
“Right.” Back to reality. Jay held out his hand. “Let me have your phone, Beth.”
“That won’t be necessary.” The heavily accented words caught Jay’s attention. He pivoted as a short, well-muscled man entered the room.
“Manny Hernandez with IRO.” He extended his hand to Jay. A pencil-thin moustache and neat goatee added to the man’s authoritative air.
Brief, firm, no-nonsense handshake. Impressed, Jay studied him as he greeted Lela.
“Hola, mi amiga.” They hugged.
Jay caught the subtle look that passed between Lela and Manny. Were they more than friends? And what about that Smitty guy? Are Lela’s relationships any of my business?
“We have the video downloaded onto our equipment in Chuck’s office.” Manny pointed to the door. “Let’s check it out.”
Jay gave himself a mental kick in the rear, smiled at Beth, and left the room.
In the office, Manny directed them to a computer among other electronic equipment on the large mahogany desk. “We’ve che
cked Chuck’s computer for any information that might tell us why he was kidnapped, but found nothing. Bowen said the license number you provided for Javier’s pickup was stolen off a vehicle in a downtown parking garage. No doubt he’s changed it by now. Anyway, other agents are checking on security footage, et cetera, but so far no luck.”
He tapped a key, and Chuck’s battered face appeared on the screen.
How many times had Chuck been punched? A shudder rippled across Jay’s shoulders. Was Lela right? Even if he’d been at the villa, could he have stopped the well-planned abduction? He dropped into the leather chair, his brother-in-law’s image etched into his mind. Chuck’s slurred words made no sense. Neither did the fact he no longer wore his wedding ring. Chuck never took it off.
Jay turned to Lela and Manny behind him. “I have no idea what he was trying to convey. Do you?”
The agent opened a manila folder and extracted a sheet of paper which he handed to Lela. “We transcribed his message. Beth couldn’t make any sense out of it. For obvious reasons, we haven’t let the children see their father in this state.”
Lela carried the paper to the sofa. “Why did they send the video? To further intimidate Beth?” She sat and crossed her legs.
“That would be my guess. And to make sure she didn’t involve the cops.” Stroking his goatee with his index finger and thumb, Manny cocked his head. “I think it’s unusual that they let him talk.”
“Me, too. Let’s check out his message. We don’t need to see Chuck delivering it again.” She patted the cushions on either side. “Come on, guys.”
When the two men were seated, Lela read the message. “Do what they say, Beth. Don’t call the police. Tell Sean to keep his red sweater clean. And put on his clothes, brush his teeth, stop hitting his sisters, and sleep in his own bed.”
“It doesn’t make any sense at all.” Jay pointed to the words. “Why would he insist Sean follow those commands? Has he lost his mind?”
“Exactly the same questions we have.” Manny’s phone rang. He stood and walked to the far corner to answer it.
“Let’s break it down.” Lela set the paper in her lap. “Since the message was directed specifically to Sean, we must take his disability into account. Would Chuck normally give him these instructions? Would Sean pay attention?”
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