Last Chance 05 - Second Chance

by Christy Reece

  Oh God, don’t let him get away. “No!” Keeley screamed.

  He reached the parking lot and ran toward the open side door of a white van. Keeley took a leap and sprang toward him, her arms outstretched. Once again she felt the brush of his jacket on her fingertips. He pulled away sharply and Keeley felt herself falling. Pain slammed into her as she smacked face-first onto the concrete pavement. On the edge of consciousness, the last sound Keeley heard was the cry of her daughters screaming “Mama!”

  Wes glanced in his rearview mirror at the two sleeping kids. Seeing them with their arms wrapped around each other for comfort and warmth kind of tugged at his heart. They’d been so upset he’d given them orange juice laced with Valium to calm them down. They’d fallen asleep almost immediately. Had he given them too much? Maybe he should check and make sure they were still breathing.

  Damned if he needed anything else to go wrong with this job. He had two kids, hopefully alive, but no woman. The bitch had double-crossed him; the grab hadn’t gone down like he’d instructed. The email he got on his BlackBerry just seconds ago indicated that as far as she was concerned, the job was finished: “Your money’s at the P.O. box. Get out of town and don’t come back.”

  Like hell.

  Wes turned down the gravel path to his cabin. The first thing he needed to do was get off the road. He’d paid Fletch the money he owed him for his help, though not as much as Wes had promised. Hell, even if the setup wasn’t right, the bastard should’ve been able to grab Keeley.

  Since Wesley was the larger of the two men, he’d decided to be the one to nab the kids. Squirmy kids, even young ones like these, could be a pain in the ass to carry. He’d thought Fletch could handle the woman, though. That’d been his only job. In Wes’s estimation, if a man couldn’t take down a woman, he wasn’t much of a man. Stupid prick.

  Wes parked in front of his cabin and turned the ignition off. Twisting around, he eyed the unconscious kids, and then reached out a hand and touched the pulses at their necks. Yeah, both still beating. At least that was one thing that hadn’t got messed up.

  Weird that they were twins when they didn’t even look related. One had blond hair; the other one had black hair … the color of her mother’s. The dark-haired one would be going to some people in Georgia. He’d found somebody who was willing to pay five thousand more than what the Florida people had promised. Fifteen thousand had a nicer ring to it than ten.

  The blond one was going to bring him almost double what the dark-haired one had. With the hundred thousand he’d gotten for the grab, he was going to be sitting pretty for a long time.

  First, he had a call to make.

  Wes pressed a key on his cellphone. She answered on the first ring in that haughty voice he hated. “I told you not to call me.”

  “You’re going to pay. Nobody double-crosses me and gets away with it.”

  She laughed. The bitch had the nerve to laugh at him!

  “I did pay you. With that kind of money, you can find plenty of women to do anything you want. And I got what I wanted. We’re even.”

  His teeth ground so hard his jaw ached. “We ain’t even and you know it. I’ll be back. You’re going to get me what you promised or else.”

  He ended the call before she could say anything else. Wouldn’t matter what she said. He wanted what he wanted. And he had wanted Keeley Fairchild for years.

  In high school, she’d been focused on other things, never dated. Not that he’d ever asked. She wouldn’t have anything to do with him or any of the other boys who’d panted after her. She was always too serious, had her head in a book, or was busy practicing for track. But her body … Wes hardened at the mental image. Keeley’s hot-damn body was the kind boys dreamed of and men salivated for.

  After high school, he’d tried a few times to get her to go out with him, but she’d always turned him down. She’d always been nice about it, though, and he figured she was just shy. Then what’d she do but up and marry that rich bastard Stephen Fairchild. Whatever good feelings he’d had about Keeley had been lost. Most everybody knew Fairchild couldn’t keep his pants zipped. Wes figured Keeley had gotten what she deserved.

  Things were different now. Fairchild’s ass was ashes, and Wes had been dreaming and salivating way too long. When he got back to town, the waiting would be over.

  First things first … get rid of her brats. Other than getting a nice chunk of money, the only satisfaction this job gave him was the knowledge that the bitch would be pissed he hadn’t dropped the kids where she’d told him to go.

  Wes snorted. Like he was going to take orders from a woman.

  Once he took care of his transactions, he’d lay low and enjoy his rewards for a while. Let the bitch get comfortable, think he’d forgotten about her. He’d be back and show her that nobody double-crosses Wesley Tuttle and gets away with it. She’d either pony up the other part of the bargain and get him the woman or he’d be announcing to the world just who was responsible for Keeley Fairchild’s misery. Wouldn’t the good citizens of Fairview be surprised?

  two

  Six weeks later

  Last Chance Rescue headquarters

  Paris, France

  Fury vibrated in every step as Cole shoved open the door to his boss’s office. Noah McCall was sprawled in his chair, that cool, implacable expression firmly in place.

  “Damn you, McCall. Why wasn’t I told?”

  Other than the tic in McCall’s right jaw, the man didn’t move. Cole forced several deep breaths to quiet the roar of fury inside him. Teeth clenched, he spoke softly. “I want this case.”

  Reining in the rage wasn’t easy; anger felt more natural than breathing. Being pumped full of supercharged steroids, along with a bunch of other shit, for almost a year will do that to a man. It’d taken months of detox and meditation before he felt his control returning. Now it took only a few seconds to calm the roaring beast inside him. Besides, if there was one man who didn’t give a damn about having someone pissed at him, it was McCall.

  His boss didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t know which case. He raised his head slowly and waited a palpable second before saying, “Eden and Jordan are on it. I don’t need you.”

  “I don’t care who you’ve got on it. I want in.”

  McCall shook his head. “You haven’t finished up the job in Mexico.”

  “We got the doctor … he’s the one we wanted the most. I left Dylan in charge. The few that are left have been targeted … he’s got plenty of backup to take them down. If they still need help after I rescue the kids, I’ll go back.”

  Unmoved, McCall shook his head. “I’ll keep you informed. Give you access to all the information we have, but I’m not going to—”

  “This is a courtesy call, Noah. Whether you put me on the case or not, I’m working it.”

  McCall leaned back into his chair, his black eyes assessing. “FBI’s been all over it. It’s over a month old and the trail’s gone ice-cold. Keeley Fairchild called me right after it happened. We’ve been on the case from the beginning.”

  Cole ground his teeth to keep from snarling. Getting more pissed with McCall for not telling him wouldn’t accomplish a damn thing. His boss would have assigned the people he believed were the best operatives to get the kids back.

  Personal issues could screw up an op. Cole was more than aware that he wasn’t the best person for the job. Staying objective would be critical. Didn’t matter. Objectivity for this family had gone out the window a long time ago. If it was the last thing he did, he was going to get those kids back to their mother.

  If fury should be directed at anyone, Cole was more than aware that it should be directed at himself. It was his failing that something had happened to the Fairchild children. He’d chosen revenge over protection. While he’d been rounding up the assholes who’d tortured him, he’d failed at his one major responsibility—keeping Keeley Fairchild and her children safe. The knowledge of that failure burned through him like acid. He woul
dn’t screw up again.

  “I have to be on this case, McCall.”

  “Eden’s developed a special bond with Keeley Fairchild. Jordan’s got a good relationship going with the investigators. You go in and that might disrupt the balance. Let them handle this. Either one could single-handedly bring in those kids. If the children are still alive, there’s no doubt they’ll get them back. I’ll keep you updated on all the progress.”

  He couldn’t argue the point. Eden and Jordan Montgomery were the best of LCR. No question. But that wouldn’t stop him. “Doesn’t matter. I want this case.”

  McCall stared long and hard, then asked quietly, “Have you thought about the cost to yourself?”

  Cole snorted. That was the least of his worries. “I don’t have anything left to lose.”

  McCall’s eyes flashed. “Don’t say that. You have a lot of people who care—”

  Cole waved an impatient hand. “You know what I mean. Eden and Jordan are more than capable, but they have a lot to lose if something goes wrong. I don’t.”

  Noah McCall’s hard-eyed stare had intimidated many—Cole wasn’t one of them. He knew the man too well. Noah’s first responsibility would always be to the victims, but that would never negate his concern for his operatives.

  “You think sacrificing yourself is going to get these kids back?”

  “I’ve been on plenty of rescue missions and didn’t get killed. I don’t plan on dying on this one.”

  “You didn’t plan on getting captured and tortured either.”

  “I screwed up. It won’t happen again.”

  “We all screwed up, Cole. Not just you.”

  Cole held back his automatic denial. Everyone felt so damned guilty for what he’d gone through, but it’d been his stupid-assed decision to go into that warehouse without backup. There was no one else to blame, but if it got him on the case, he’d use what he had to.

  “There’s no one more motivated than I am to get those children back to their mother.”

  The flicker in his boss’s eyes told Cole he’d scored a point. Seeing that, Cole stiffened his spine, shut down his conscience, and went for the kill. “You owe me, Noah.”

  In spite of his determination to feel nothing, a slash of pain ripped through his head at the guilt in his boss’s eyes. He’d lied. McCall didn’t owe him a damn thing. He’d saved Cole’s life years ago by giving him an opportunity and purpose few could. Noah McCall was the most decent man Cole knew, but if pushing this particular button got him on the case, he’d push the hell out of it. He had no choice.

  McCall gave a curt nod. “Fine. I’ll give you all the intel. You can work it from here or Florida. Another set of eyes can only help. I can—”

  “No. I’m going to South Carolina.”

  “Dammit, there’s no reason to meet the woman.”

  “I’m not in the habit of running from my demons.”

  “Are you going to tell her who you are?”

  “There’s no reason to bring her more pain. I’ll be another LCR operative working to find her children. What’s done is done.”

  “Here’s all the intel we have.” McCall slid a thick folder across his desk. A telling gesture. He’d known Cole was coming and had been prepared. “Police report, interviews, investigators’ notes. FBI has been extraordinarily cooperative. They’ve allowed Jordan to sit in on all of the interviews. And Eden’s been Keeley’s shadow. I think having Eden there has helped the woman about as much as anything. From the sound of it, she has few friends in Fairview.”

  Cole took the folder and dropped into a chair in front of the desk. He’d take the file apart tonight when he was alone. Right now, he wanted more than what the papers in his hand would reveal … he wanted a gut feeling. Noah’s take on the situation would give him important insight. The man had overseen more rescues than all his operatives combined.

  “I know her parents are gone. Doesn’t she have any other family?”

  “No family other than the children … and her in-laws.” Noah’s tone indicated antipathy.

  “In-laws not like her?”

  “From what we can tell, the sister-in-law’s a good friend. Mother-in-law sounds like one of those witches Samara reads to Micah about.”

  “Wicked stepmother type?”

  McCall’s mouth lifted. “Yeah. Without the poisoned apple.”

  “What’s her problem?”

  “Not sure other than Keeley wasn’t good enough for her son. Elizabeth Fairchild has made no secret of how she feels. Did her best to have Keeley blamed when Stephen Fairchild was abducted. Local law’s a bunch of idiots, and since she apparently has them in her pocket, they tried to charge Keeley without any real evidence. FBI stepped in and stopped them before it went that far.”

  Guilt skewered through Cole. Bad enough that her husband had been killed, but to be accused of that crime only added to her pain. Through no fault of her own, the woman had suffered tremendously already. Even more incentive for him to find her children.

  “What about the kids … there’s been no ransom demand?”

  “No.”

  His gut twisted. “Hell, it’s been too long.”

  McCall’s grim expression was an acknowledgment of what they both knew. The lack of communication for that length of time meant dire consequences. If the kids were even alive, they’d probably been sold. And there were all too many places for that kind of transaction to take place. Those children could be anywhere.

  Cole forced his mind away from the harsh reality to get more facts. “How’d it go down?”

  “Keeley Fairchild watched a man take the children. Fought like hell to prevent it.”

  “Watched?”

  “Yeah, she was within a few feet of catching up with him and fell flat on her face. Another man tried to grab her … she got away from him, but suffered a broken wrist and a concussion.”

  Cole stiffened. “They tried to grab her along with the kids?”

  “Yeah. That’s why Eden’s sticking so close to her. She may be in danger as well. And it’s one of the reasons no one’s surprised there’s not been a ransom.”

  “One of the reasons?”

  Propping his arms on his desk, McCall leaned forward as he explained. “The kidnappings seemed odd enough … what with two kids taken and what happened to her husband. About a week after they were nabbed, the emails started.”

  “What kind of emails?”

  “Not your normal wacko stuff … though those kinds of creeps do seem to come out of the woodwork when things like this happen. These comments are targeted and constant, with only one apparent purpose—to hurt Keeley.”

  Cole held up the folder. “Copies in here?”

  Noah nodded. “FBI is keeping the emails under their hat for now, along with the information that she was almost taken, too. As far as the media knows, it’s a kidnapping, not a personal vendetta. Press doesn’t need more fodder.”

  “Media circus?”

  “It was for a while. They’ve backed off since there’s been no developments.”

  “So what’s your take?”

  “The woman’s definitely got an enemy. Whether the emails are being sent by the kidnappers is less clear. They make no mention of the kids … where they could be, why they were taken, no admission of guilt. Just very pointed and cruel remarks toward her.”

  “So it could still just be some sick creep who gets off on hurting those who are already hurting.”

  “Possibly. Thanks to her mother-in-law, Keeley isn’t the most popular person in town. Could be one of them.”

  “The whole town dislikes her?”

  Even though it was intentional, Cole cursed his lack of knowledge of Keeley Fairchild. His goal had been to make sure she stayed safe. Finding out personal information about her was a line he hadn’t wanted to cross.

  “Elizabeth Fairchild owns many of the businesses in Fairview and most of the land in the county. She’s got the money and the influence to control the vast majority of
the town’s employment. Apparently they stay in her good graces by ostracizing Keeley.”

  Cole clenched his jaw. Getting involved in small-town dramatics would be pointless. Still, hearing how Keeley Fairchild had been treated in her own town didn’t sit well with him.

  “Any reference to the husband’s abduction in the emails?”

  “No, nothing about him. Just remarks about what a terrible mother she must be to lose her kids. The writer knows exactly where to stick the knife to do the most damage.”

  “How many FBI are on the case?”

  “Seven when they started. It’s dropped to one. Honor Stone … you’ve worked with her before. You remember?”

  A vague mental picture of a pretty, freckle-faced woman with a no-nonsense attitude and compassionate green eyes flashed in his mind.

  When Cole nodded, Noah continued, “She’s worked well with Eden and Jordan but I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s reassigned soon.” He lifted a shoulder. “They’ll still work it, of course.”

  Noah didn’t need to add the obvious. The FBI would continue to work it, but there were hundreds of other missing-persons cases they were working, too. Fortunately, Cole had two things the FBI didn’t have. Time and total focus. He would never give up until those kids were found.

  “Where’d it happen? Her place is like a fortress. Hell, the wall that surrounds her property would stop ninety-nine percent of the population.”

  “The park. She took the kids for a picnic. An older couple close by called the cops, but their description was as vague as Keeley’s. Masked men, white van, no tags or identifying features.”

  “FBI have any suspects?”

  “No strong ones. That’s what makes it so damned frustrating.”

  “Two abductions in two years in the same family,” Cole muttered. “No way the two aren’t related. Somebody hates Keeley Fairchild enough to take her husband and then her children.”

  McCall blew out a sigh. “Question is, who?”

  “What’s your gut say?”

  “No one was ever fingered for hiring the husband’s abduction.” McCall’s gaze narrowed on Cole. “You still think it was someone Fairchild knew?”