by Tiffany Snow
Duh. Dumb question. Hadn’t he just said they were sleeping together? Wasn’t that the definition of “affair?” But he bit his tongue when he replied, mindful of the fact that she was in the company of a cold-blooded murderer who for some unknown reason, hadn’t hurt her. Yet.
“It would seem so.”
“That must have been him that I heard in the hotel room,” she said.
Now she was putting the pieces together. He could only hope she kept her wits and didn’t panic. “Right, which is why you have to leave. Now. I found an account in Grand Cayman that belongs to Ryan. It’s recently received over five million dollars in deposits. In case you’re not aware, they don’t pay enlisted men that kind of money.”
“But why would he kill Ron and Stacey, Kade?” she asked. “Or come after me? He’s JAG, not a SEAL. They would’ve laughed in his face if he’d been the one threatening them.”
True. “Because before he was JAG, he was CIA.”
“What?” she squeaked. Kade winced. “But…but that’s not possible.”
And she was losing it.
“I’m on my way,” he said, glancing down at the speedometer. Pushing ninety in a thirty-five. At least traffic was light. “Ryan’s neck deep in this shit. Get out of there. Tell him anything.”
“Okay, I’m downtown, at—”
But she was cut off, and the next voice on the line was most definitely not Kathleen’s.
“I’m sorry but Kathleen can’t come to the phone right now,” Ryan said. “She’ll have to call you back later.”
Kade clutched his phone so hard, the metal bit into his fingers. “You lay a finger on her, and I personally will make sure it’s the last thing you ever do.”
“Tell Kirk that if he wants to see her alive again, he should make sure he loses this case,” Ryan said, then he hung up.
Panic burned a hole in his gut, but Kade ignored it, instead pushing the accelerator down even further. He was still over fifteen minutes away. His one hope was that Ryan wanted to use Kathleen for leverage. Hopefully, that meant he wouldn’t hurt her. The signal was still coming from her phone and it would continue to do so, even if he turned it off.
Kade just hoped he hadn’t left it behind.
He drove like a madman, weaving in between cars and into oncoming traffic at a suicidal speed. The thought occurred to him to call Blane, but that would take time away from trying to get to her, and he couldn’t afford that.
He was only five minutes away when his phone rang again. It was an unknown number. Maybe it was Ryan, wanting to talk terms.
“Yeah,” Kade bit out.
“Help me!”
It was Kathleen, breathless and terrified.
“What’s happening?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. Her voice shook. “They shot Ryan.”
“Who? Who shot Ryan?”
She was sobbing now. “I don’t know! His head just exploded. And now they’re after me.”
Kade could tell she was close to hysterical, and hysterical people didn’t last long when someone was after them. If he could just get her to calm down for four more minutes…
“Take it easy,” he said. “Breathe, Kathleen. Keep it together. I’m coming for you.”
But she didn’t reply to him. Instead, she said, “God, Frankie, you scared me!”
Kade frowned.
“Frankie?” he heard her say, the relief now edged again with fear.
“What’s going on?” Kade asked. “Who the fuck is Frankie?”
But she either didn’t hear him or couldn’t answer, because all she said then was “What? What do you mean? No!”
The line went dead.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Kade’s Mercedes squealed to a stop in the parking lot of the restaurant. He slammed it into park and didn’t bother to close the door as he vaulted out. He was inside seconds after that.
“There was a girl in here,” he said to the maitre d’, “just minutes ago. She left with a man.”
The guy frowned at him, giving him a once-over. “I’m sorry, sir, but we have lots of couples coming and going.”
It took a tremendous amount of self-control not to wrap a hand around the man’s neck and shake the information out of him. Kade bit back his frustration. “This girl is hard to miss,” he said. “Long hair. Reddish-blonde. Petite little thing. Big blue eyes.”
At his description, the man’s expression cleared. “Ah, yes,” he said with a nod. “Very polite young lady. She and her escort left nearly ten minutes ago, I believe.”
“Did you see where they went?”
The man shook his head. “I’m afraid not.”
Suddenly, they both heard a scream from outside. Kade had his gun in his hand before he hit the door.
A family was standing in the parking lot. A woman huddled with two small children and a man who stood in front of them. They were all staring at something. As Kade got closer, he saw the body of Ryan Sheffield lying on the ground. His head was a pulpy mass of blood and gore. The family seemed frozen in shock as they stared.
“IMPD,” Kade lied as he pushed past them, but the family got out of his way.
Kneeling down, he examined the wound, then the damage to the truck where it seemed the shooter had missed. Low on the door, he must’ve been firing at another target. Kathleen, Kade guessed.
But where was she now?
Holstering his gun, Kade pulled out his phone. The GPS was still active and heading away at a rate of speed that said she was in a moving vehicle. He hurried to his car.
“Wait!” The maitre d’ had grabbed onto his jacket. “You’re leaving?”
“I’m in pursuit,” Kade said. “Call 911.” Shaking off the man’s hold, he got back in his car and shot out of the lot.
The guy was headed back toward downtown. Kade dialed as he drove, sending through his Bluetooth so he could watch the screen for Kathleen’s signal. When Blane answered, Kade didn’t sugarcoat it.
“Kathleen’s been kidnapped.”
Blane didn’t waste time on shock or stupid questions. He’d had enough training as a SEAL to leave emotions aside and just deal with the facts.
“When?” he asked.
“Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago,” Kade replied. “He’s got her in a moving vehicle, headed southwest.”
“Who is he?”
“Unknown.” Kade gave Blane a brief rundown on what he’d found out about Ryan Sheffield and how he’d taken Kathleen. “But then she called me, said she needed help, that someone had killed Ryan and was trying to kill her.”
“She called you.” It was a reiteration of fact, but edged with something else. Maybe Kade had been wrong about Blane being able to leave emotion aside, because he sounded surprised and angry.
“Yeah, she called me,” Kade retorted. “Does it fucking matter who she called? The point is, the bad guy has her, and if he killed Sheffield, then someone else has a dog in this hunt that we don’t know about. Ryan wanted to use Kathleen as leverage. I don’t know what this guy wants.”
“She called him Frankie?” Blane asked.
“Yeah. Has she mentioned anyone by that name to you?”
“Not a word.”
Kade glanced at the tracker. “They’re heading into downtown. Lots of people and places, but the tracker is working.”
“You’ve got a tracker on her?”
Oops. “Thought for sure I’d mentioned that,” Kade muttered.
“You didn’t.”
“Don’t get all pissy. It’s coming in pretty fucking handy right about now,” Kade said. “You’re welcome.”
Then the signal was gone.
Kade stared at the screen in disbelief. “No.”
“No what?” Blane asked.
Kade restarted the app, waiting for it to zero in, but it showed nothing. Kathleen’s signal was nowhere to be found.
“I lost her,” he said. His voice sounded strangled to his ears.
“You what? You lost
her?” No mistaking the fury in Blane’s voice now.
“The GPS stopped transmitting,” Kade said, thinking furiously. “He either destroyed it, or they went somewhere the signal can’t reach. A basement maybe, or someplace with concrete walls.”
“Your tracker can’t reach from a basement? It’s not much of a tracker then, is it.”
Blane’s bitter anger set Kade’s teeth on edge. “I didn’t know she was going to be kidnapped,” he bit out. “Just meet me at my place as soon as you can.”
“Why? What are we going to do exactly? You have no idea where she is.”
“I don’t know, but I’ll think of something.” Kade ended the call.
He was on his computer when Blane came through the door, still in his suit from work.
“Anything?” Blane asked, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it onto another chair.
“I’m searching for anyone she might’ve known with the name Frank or Frankie. People working at the courthouse, other law firms in the area, the bar, tenants of her apartment complex…” He trailed off. “But so far…nothing.”
Blane shoved his hand through his hair, pacing the floor behind him. “It can’t be someone she’s known very long, or she’d have mentioned it to me,” he said.
Blane’s cell rang and he pulled it from his pocket. Glancing at the screen, he stopped in his tracks and raised his gaze to Kade’s. Their eyes met in mutual understanding.
“It’s her phone,” Blane said.
“But maybe not her.”
“Keep him talking,” Kade said, swiveling back to the computer. He began typing, running a trace back from Kathleen’s cell company to what tower was closest to her current location.
Blane answered on speaker. “Kat, where the hell are you?”
“I have her,” a male voice said. “I thought you m-m-might want to s-s-say goodbye.”
He sounded young, younger than Kade would have thought, and the stutter was very pronounced.
“Who is this?” Blane asked.
“The man who’s going to k-kill K-K-Kathleen. Then I’m going to k-kill you and K-Kyle. Do you want to listen?”
Kade’s fingers faltered at the keys.
There was silence on the phone and Kade could hear Blane’s harsh breathing as he stood behind him.
“No! Stop!”
Kathleen, yelling. Then a scream filled with pain, abruptly cut off.
“Kathleen!” Blane yelled. “What the fuck are you doing to her?”
“She will pay for what she is,” Frankie said.
The coldness of his voice sent a chill through Kade. He’d dealt with murderers before—hell, he was a murderer—and they all had that same note in their voice where you just knew there’d be no hesitation and no regret for their actions.
The trace was nearly complete, narrowing it down to two towers.
“I am going to hunt you down and kill you.”
Blane’s icy words echoed in Kade’s ears. And if he doesn’t, I will, Kade silently vowed.
“I’m going to shoot her and let her bleed like my father bled. Then I’m going to burn the hair she’s so proud of. Then if she’s still screaming, I’ll cut her throat.”
The stutter was gone now, the voice was one of a madman. A lunatic. And that lunatic was going to kill Kathleen, maybe within moments.
“No, please.” Kathleen’s strangled plea filled the room. Neither Blane nor Kade moved. They didn’t speak. They just listened.
The feeling of utter helplessness was one Kade hadn’t felt in years. It nearly drove him mad, hearing her beg for her life, and him, unable to do a damn thing about it.
“Any last words, Kat?” Frankie sneered.
Kade had a wild, insane hope that she’d say something to him. Anything. Even if she just said his name—
“Can you hear me, Blane?”
Kade’s eyes slid shut.
“Yeah, babe, I can hear you,” Blane gently said.
“Blane…his name’s Frankie. He’s driving a city cab, about five seven, twenty years old, hundred fifty pounds, clean shaven—” They heard the crack of metal against bone and Kathleen cried out in pain.
“Kat!”
“Time’s up,” Frankie said.
A gunshot sounded and the air Kade breathed froze in his lungs, choking him.
Kathleen screamed in agonizing pain. It tore through Kade worse than anything he’d ever known. In that moment, he had no doubt that if he could have, he would’ve given his life in exchange for hers.
“I’ll see you soon, Kirk.” There was a clatter, then the line went dead.
Neither of them said anything, and Kade knew they were each taking a moment to steel themselves against the panic and rage they both felt.
Kade spoke first.
“The trace was near where the GPS signal disappeared,” he said at last, hardly able to recognize the sound of his own voice. “I couldn’t get any closer, and it sounds like he destroyed the phone, so there won’t be any more signals.”
“But she gave you information,” Blane said. “He’s twenty, five seven, drives a cab.”
A memory struck Kade. “Holy shit,” he breathed.
“What?”
“I know this guy. I met him. One of the cab companies I looked into when Bowers disappeared. There was a kid. His name was Frankie.” He’d struck Kade as odd at the time, but with nothing else to go on, he’d ignored the feeling.
Kade pulled the company up online, then called their listed number. A moment later, he’d hung up and turned to face Blane.
“His name is Franklin Randall Wyster. He moved here a few months ago.”
“When his family brought the suit against Kyle,” Blane added. “Of course. He said on the phone that his dad had died. His dad was James Wyster, killed by SEAL forces on a raid into Iraq.”
“Looks like there’s more we don’t know about the Wysters,” Kade said, hitting the print button on his computer. “Here’s a news story on an honor killing a couple of years ago. Frankie’s fifteen year old sister.” He handed the papers to Blane. “The father and son were never prosecuted.”
“So the family’s Muslim, the dad changes his name to Ahmed el Mustaqueem, and he flies off to Iraq to fight for the other side,” Blane said. “He gets killed by SEALs, then his family sues for wrongful death since he was technically an American citizen and non-combatant.”
“And it seems Frankie was anxious to take matters into his own hands, killing everyone involved with the case and his father’s death,” Kade added.
“Including Kathleen,” Blane finished.
Their gazes met in mutual understanding and dread.
“Where would he have taken her?” Blane asked, stepping closer to peer over Kade’s shoulder.
Kade swiveled in the seat to face the computer screens, pulling the map from one monitor to center on all of them and zooming in to where he’d last seen the GPS.
“It could be anywhere within this radius,” he said, outlining the block with his mouse. “Unfortunately, this is heavily populated, so it’s a little like a needle in a haystack. But hey, if you want to start busting down doors and searching, I’m in.”
“We can’t do that,” Blane said. “Someone would call the cops and we’d get arrested.”
“You want to call the cops anyway?”
“No. We have no proof except our word that he’s involved, and it’ll take too long. Kathleen doesn’t have that kind of time.”
The reminder made Kade’s stomach churn. “I’ll start running through real estate records,” he said, “see who owns what. If one of the places is abandoned or for sale, he could be there.”
“How long is that going to take?”
“Don’t you think I’m going as fast as I can?”
Blane shoved his hand through his hair again. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m going to head that direction, so you can just call me when you know and I’ll already be there.”
Kade heard the sound of Blane slipping his
Glock from its holster and the ammunition clip ejecting as Blane checked the rounds before slamming it home again.
“Okay,” he said. “Just wear a vest. This lunatic wants to kill you, and I hate funerals.” He didn’t look up from the screen. Kathleen was already in serious danger, perhaps dead or dying. Kade didn’t need Blane to die tonight as well.
“All right,” Blane said. “Call me when you find something.”
Not if, but when. His trust that Kade would come through was daunting and Kade hoped it wasn’t misplaced.
“Will do,” he said. He heard Blane leave through the front door, but his concentration was already back on the information scrolling down his screens.
It took too many nerve-wracking hours for Kade to find the right house, and he was only able to do so because he’d cross-referenced the owners of the properties with recent airline passenger lists and saw that one house was currently unoccupied due to the owners being out of the country. That’s the address he told Blane on the phone, and that was the address he was currently breaking into.
Blane had taken the front while Kade was approaching from the rear. The guy may or may not be alone, so he crept silently down the empty hallway.
Someone cried out and Kade froze.
Kathleen.
Backtracking, Kade peered around a doorway into the kitchen and that’s when he heard him.
“Kirk. Did you c-come looking for your whore?”
It was Frankie. His back was to Kade and he had a hold of Kathleen. Relief flooded Kade. She was still alive.
Moving soundlessly, he stepped into the kitchen, his gun held out in front of him and aimed at Frankie. But he couldn’t shoot him. The bullets might go right through and hit Kathleen.
“I’ll k-k-kill her first, then I’ll kill you.”
He was talking to Blane, who stood beyond Frankie, his weapon trained on him. Kade knew Blane could see him, but he didn’t given anything away, not even so much as a flicker of his eyes in Kade’s direction.
“You can’t get both of us,” Blane said. “You shoot her, I kill you.”
Frankie laughed “S-s-stalemate.”
“I’ll put down my gun—”
“No—” Kathleen protested before Frankie yanked her backward, cutting off her words.