A soft buzzing rattled through the chair legs, vibrating her teeth with the familiarity of a dentist’s drill. She squeezed her eyelids closed. Deep muffled voices carried to her ears. What the hell had happened? How long had she been out? With the force of a tidal wave, memories of gloved hands dragging her into a van washed over her. This wasn’t good. If she was still here, that meant Nate hadn’t found her. Did he know she was missing? As upset as he was with her, he wouldn’t just drop the case. Without lifting her head, she took in her surroundings.
Laminate flooring sat beneath her chair, a large oriental rug covering most of it. A huge picture window with the blinds drawn shut took up the wall next to her. Strobe lights flickered beyond it, licking the white slats.
Where were her attackers? She strained her ears again, but the voices were softer than before. She wiggled her fingers, trying to get blood flow back to them, but they remained numb. They must have adjusted her hands behind her back while she’d been out, because in the van they’d secured them in front. Her fingers stretched to the inside of her wrist—they’d changed the restraint to rope instead of the zip-tie. It wasn’t tight. If she could get the feeling back in her fingers, she might be able to work it off. But she’d have to straighten up and take some of the weight off her shoulders. Carefully, she lifted her head. The muscles in her neck tightened like guitar strings. Her breath sucked in and pain shot through her chest. Lord, what had they done to her? Her clothes were still intact, offering a sliver of reassurance.
Now that she was awake, her time was limited. She had to get out. She stretched her neck from side-to-side, taking in her surroundings. The wide-open room was empty, thank God. Cords and wires hung down from the unfinished ceiling, and beer bottles and plates with dried food littered the tables near the sofa beneath the window. With her brain less scrambled, she could focus on the noise beneath her. The constant rhythm of bass and Spanish lyrics settled over her.
She was in a nightclub.
Slowly, life returned to her choked fingers. She made two tight fists, and released them. She repeated the action until strength returned to her muscles. She grasped the rope in her fingers and worked at loosening it. They’d only wrapped it around twice with one simple knot. Hope surged through her. She might be able to get out of it. All she needed was the use of her hands and she’d be able to escape.
Her head swam and nausea bubbled in her stomach from the sweet smelling rag. The bastards must have used chloroform. There were a few of them, three at least. Those odds would be tough. She set her jaw. It didn’t matter, she wasn’t dying here. What the hell did they want with her anyway?
A laugh rumbled in the hallway, deep and throaty. A door closed, shutting off the other voices. Had someone left? If there were fewer men, she’d have a shot at this. She twisted her wrists, willing them to mold together to gain just a few more millimeters of space between the rope and her skin.
A man stepped into the room and slipped his phone in his pocket.
He’d been on the phone, so it was likely he was alone. His grey eyes landed on her. Rage shot through her. His mouth twisted into a smile and he strode toward her. He wasn’t very tall, she’d guess five-foot-ten at most. Short grey hair with a sharply receding hairline topped his head. He wore pressed black slacks and a black polo shirt.
The man that had grabbed her? It was hard to be certain, but his bulky build and height matched. His eyes never left her face, which was a good thing because her hands were almost free. With her back only inches from the wall, she could untie the rope without him catching her—unless he decided to check them.
“Hola, Senorita. You’re probably wondering why you’re here.” His English was broken up between bouts of thick accent. He scooped a chair up, set it down a few feet in front of her, and sat. “You can relax, I don’t want to hurt you.”
Did he think she was stupid? She scoffed, the sound rude and derisive. “Oh, sure. That’s why you chloroformed me and threw me in the back of a van?”
His lips twitched and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. This close, the fine lines in his face revealed their depth. Dark purple colored the bridge of his nose. Aha. It was the same man. Satisfaction swelled in her chest. He’d be sporting more injuries shortly.
He wasn’t very young, probably mid-forties, though his skin was a deep brown with color and damage from the sun.
“Ah, I heard you would be mouthy. Let’s make this quick then, shall we?” He shifted in his seat and pulled something small from his pocket. His fingers closed over the object, concealing it.
“You tell me what you want with Carlos Santiago, and I won’t peel the skin off your face.” He spoke casually, but light sparkled in his eyes. The soft swish of metal snapped her gaze to his hand. A switchblade. Her throat clenched and the blood drained from her face. She wet her lips, her breath coming out in sharp frantic puffs.
Don’t show your fear.
Had Hector set this up? She set her teeth. That would be the most likely scenario. Hector would try to get the truth and present the evidence to Carlos to regain the respect he’d lost. She narrowed her eyes and squared her shoulders. He might think he had the upper hand by restraining her, but he hadn’t tied her feet. Stupid move. The rope was loose and had slid down the palm of one of her hands. She just needed a few more minutes…
“Who are you?”
He made a tsking sound with his teeth and shook his head. “Sorry honey, I’m the one asking the questions.”
“Why?”
The heels of the chair scuffed against the floor, and he stood. He turned his back to her and paced the small space between them. Her fingers eased the last loop of rope around her wrists off. She held it tight in her hands. If she dropped it, he would see that she had gotten out. Her eyes skimmed the room. She could take him no problem, but she might need a weapon if she couldn’t dislodge the knife from his tight grip.
Her eyes landed on a small metal table with chairs in the corner of the room. On the top rested her shoulder bag. Yes! If she could take this guy out, she could grab her purse and call Nate.
He stopped in front of her. His free hand toyed with the end of the sharp blade, as he inched closer.
“You’ll figure it out soon enough. In the meantime,” he said, a salacious grin splitting the worn leather of his cheeks, “I’m going to enjoy getting you to talk.”
He reached the blade out and lifted the hem of her shirt with the tip of it. Her abdomen curled in, and she sucked in a breath through her nose. His tobacco stained teeth flashed at her and he grinned widely.
“You ready to talk, Maddie?”
Her teeth slammed together in a snarl. “Go to hell,” she breathed. She shot her foot out, catching him in the groin. His hand jerked, and the blade caught her below the belly button. Pain seared across her stomach and a cry sounded from her throat. She leapt to her feet as he sucked in his breath, his hand clutching his balls.
“You’re going to pay for that, puta.” His face contorted with rage and sweat trickled from the redness at his cheeks. He straightened, the knife poised and ready in front of him. Maddie smiled and took one swift step toward him. She spun into a heel kick and caught his forearm with her foot. His hand loosened like jelly and the knife skittered across the floor.
He clenched his hands into fists and charged at her. She stepped back, grabbed his wrist, and propelled him to the floor. He hit the laminate and air wheezed out of his lungs. Maddie leapt on his back and twisted his arms behind him, then secured his wrists—only in a better knot—with the ropes he’d used on her.
“You won’t get away. Go ahead and run, my men will be back any minute and we’ll find you.” Blood trickled from his temple and a large scrape adorned his elbow.
Maddie grunted and gave the ropes one last tug. She kicked the knife out of his reach, strode across the room, and picked up her bag. She lowered her focus
from her bag to her loose-fitted T-shirt. Blood stained the material at her belly. She eased up her shirt and winced. It wasn’t bad—just a lot of blood. She lifted her purse to her shoulder and walked toward the hallway. A long flight of stairs met her and she bounded down them toward the door at the bottom. A side door sat next to the exit, likely the entrance to the club.
She had to get ahold of Nate. Had they lost Carlos? Dammit. He could have already made the exchange and she’d missed it. God, she hoped someone had stayed on him.
She reached for the old metal door and her hand closed over the warm knob. She pushed against it gently, but it swung out from under her and she stumbled outside. Hard hands grasped her shoulders and hefted her to her feet.
Nate! He’d found her.
She smiled and straightened. Then her gaze landed on the deep V of his shirt. Dark hair spiraled between the gaped material and her stomach plummeted.
Carlos!
No, no, no. His beady eyes stared down at her and his fingers dug into her shoulders. His face twisted into a snarl and his eyes raked over her, meeting her gaze. Her heart beat in her chest like a caged hummingbird. Fire shot from his emerald irises, and color crept up the neckline of his black T-shirt.
“Hello, Maddie,” he breathed. He turned her in his arms, gripping her wrists behind her back and shoved her through the door and up the stairs. Hector trailed behind them, his footsteps heavy. Her mind turned in a million circles as she opened and closed her mouth.
She had nothing. And the battered man upstairs would only further weaken her case. Dammit, she hadn’t gotten the chance to call Nate. Her stomach curdled. She wouldn’t let them restrain her again. If it came down to that, she’d take them all.
She swallowed. She had to think of something to talk her way out of this.
Chapter 23
Nate stepped out of the elevator and dropped his phone into his back pocket. He scanned the main floor for Ashley’s short raven-headed form. Where the hell had she gone? Only a few people meandered around the deck; everyone had probably gotten off an hour ago when they’d docked. He bit his teeth into the side of his cheek. Maddie had tried to get ahold of him this morning and he’d been too damn hungover to hear his phone. The memories from last night still set fire to his veins but at the end of the day, she wasn’t safe until this case was done.
A dull throb had started across his forehead. He hated not knowing where Maddie was, and the fact that he’d been wallowing in self-pity made it worse. Dylan and Ashley would have kept sharp tabs on her though.
God, he needed caffeine like a motherfucker. Screw it, he’d get his own coffee and call Ashley. Maybe she’d forgotten something and had gone back upstairs. A hand closed around his elbow, whipping him to the side. He turned and dropped his gaze. Ashley’s face was as white as a sheet, her brown eyes dark with panic.
“She’s gone, Nate!”
His pulse slowed to a dull roar.
Maddie.
His forearm bunched and he ripped out of her hold. He snagged her shoulder in his fist.
“What happened?”
Her lips trembled. “Dylan just called. He was tailing them and someone pulled her into a van. He said it happened so fast—he’s trying to locate the vehicle now.”
His blood drained to his feet. A dark mist closed around his vision, making his head swim. Carlos had been playing them. He’d known she was an informant and now he was going to kill her. Or worse.
Cold sweat collected at the back of his neck and his hands closed into hammer-like fists at his sides. When he got a hold of that sonofabitch, he was going to break every bone in his face. If he so much as touched a hair on her head…
He forced away the quicksand of panic that threatened to swallow him up. He couldn’t crumble now. He towed Ashley back into the elevator and jabbed Dylan’s floor number. They had to find her. He pulled his phone back out of his pocket and dialed Dylan. He answered on the second ring.
“Hello?” Hesitation laced Dylan’s voice. Nate’s hand tightened on the phone. He could count on one hand how many times Dylan had been rattled.
“Where are you?” His words came out clipped. Part of him wanted to lay into Dylan, but that wouldn’t do Maddie any good. Later, after they found her, he could kill him. It wasn’t all Dylan’s fault. If he hadn’t licked his wounds last night, if he had woken up on time, this never would have happened.
Dylan gave his location. “I wasn’t far when they snatched her, but the streets are so crowded I couldn’t catch up. I’m trolling the area now, but there’s so many fucking white vans.”
The elevator stopped and the doors glided open. “I put a tracking device in her encrypted phone a while ago. You’ll have to walk me through using the system so I can locate her.” He’d be able to figure it out himself, but Dylan was much faster and it would save time for him to help.
“Did you catch a plate number?”
Ashley pulled the key to Dylan’s room out of her purse and slid it in the lock. She shoved the door open and he followed her inside. Some kind of air freshener hit him in the face and stung his nostrils. One glance around showed Dylan had cleaned up. He slanted a glance at Ashley—she wouldn’t pick up after Dylan. He must have been so morbidly embarrassed by the slop lying around that he’d picked up when she was here.
“I couldn’t make out the middle letter, but I got the rest.”
“Call it in when we’re done.” It would be a long shot that the plate was traceable, but a necessary step. When people got desperate, they got sloppy. He went right to the computers humming on the dining room table and pulled out a chair. Ashley hovered behind him as he put his phone on speaker.
“Will do,” he said solemnly. “Are you at my computer?”
Nate tapped the space bar to bring it to life and a password box popped up. “Yeah, what’s your password?”
Dylan spelled it out, Nate punched it in and the screen came to life.
“I just opened the program—how do I select the device to locate?”
Dylan gave him the next steps, his tone even and subdued. Nate selected the phone number of her encrypted phone and a map filled the screen with the words ‘One moment, we’re working on it.’
He sat back. There was no reason for her not to have her phone. She’d been careful with it, hiding it in the lining of her purse. He couldn’t see her leaving it behind on a day like today. Once the location popped up, they could swoop in, save Maddie, and arrest the sonofabitch. The message disappeared and a soft ping sounded from the speakers.
Device not found.
Nate froze, his gaze riveted to the screen. Terror nipped at him and his vision wavered. Ashley’s sharp intake of breath was the only sound. What? How could that be? He’d put the device in when he’d given it to her. Dylan had tested it out and it had worked.
Ashley’s hand curled on his shoulder. He didn’t look at her.
“What’s happened?” Dylan asked.
Nate moved his tongue, but no words formed. He pressed his fingers to the mousepad to try it again.
Ashley cleared her throat. “It couldn’t be found, we’re trying it again. Enter Carlos’s number after that. We should be able to locate that too.” She leaned across Nate and lifted the phone, took it off speaker and pressed it to her ear. They had a tracker on Carlos’s phone, but since they’d been on the ship hadn’t had the need to use it.
“Get on that license plate now. Did the warrant come through for Carlos’s yacht company?” She paused, listening to Dylan. “Excellent.” She disappeared into the office and came out with the warrant papers in her hand. She came back to Nate’s side just as he finished entering her phone number and hit the search button. Again, the working message popped up. He rubbed the inside of his fingers over his jaw. His stubble made a scratching noise over his callouses, but it barely penetrated his concentration.
Please, locate her. Please God.
A lead weight settled in his stomach. The only reason for the tracker to not locate her was if it was way out of range or the device had been damaged. His muscles tensed. If Carlos had found the encrypted phone, she was as good as dead.
“Park somewhere you won’t be seen and watch. If it wasn’t Carlos that snatched her, someone must have done it for him. If he suspects her at all, he’ll want to question her. In the meantime, we’ll search his business.”
Disgust formed in his stomach. Yeah, he’d want to be there all right, to make her suffer for betraying him. He squeezed his eyes shut, pushing the rest of Ashley’s conversation with Dylan away. A soft ping from the computer snapped his eyelids open.
Device not found.
He typed Carlos’s number in.
Device not found.
The air leaked out of his lungs with the force of a boulder dropping on his chest. Pain exploded through his heart and he curled his fist over his jaw. Every cell in his body told him to move, to run, to hunt, and drag everyone off the street until he found her… but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the screen. All he’d cared about from the moment Maddie called him more than a month ago was to keep her safe. He’d known she was playing with fire, that she wouldn’t stop until she had Carlos behind bars. She was dangerous and fearless, and stupidly, he’d thought he could keep her under control. He snorted. He’d done nothing but get himself caught up in her hurricane of a life, and this time, Maddie—and his heart—would be destroyed.
It was all his fault. Maddie would die because of him and there was nothing he could do, no way he could locate her.
Jesus Christ. What had he done?
* * * *
“Drive.” He motioned Ashley toward the truck he’d just hijacked and climbed in the passenger seat. He couldn’t sit idly. Helplessness curled its icy hand around his soul, taking his life one second at a time. If he kept moving, he could hold on to the hope of finding her. He’d come across Carlos again, and when he did he’d have his own interrogation tactics that would rival those Carlos was known for.
Exposed Page 20